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#dropping a one shot later
hiyoriddle · 1 year
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MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYBODYYYYY!! NAMAMASKO PO
Zenzen chigatta kachikan de sawaide minai?
TOKUBETSU na yoru nara naosara sa
(Come on our side!)
Isshuu mawatte iwatatte ii kamaiyashinai
Hora, kokoro ga hareru ya
Merry Christmas, everybody!
Everybody!
pls give wonder game mv outfits 🙏 I HOPE EVERYONE ENJOYS THEIR CHRISTMAS TODAAAAAY
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alcetryx · 2 months
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it’s 4am I’m sleep deprived and I’m sorry
BUT IMAGINE
tav gives astarion a magical blood vial necklace after persuading astarion not to ascend (permanently sealed so he can’t have a lil sip) so he can know that tav is okay wherever he goes bc the blood thrums with life (swirling, glowing, humming etc)
one day, while he’s away in the underdark the pendant stops thrumming and coagulates. tav is dead and he descends into madness — tav made his world brighter, without them there’s only darkness and vengeful grief-fueled slaughter.
alternatively if it was durge/astarion, same prompt but I could see astarion descending into madness to avenge durge from who/whatever killed them. Bhaal haunting astarion’s mind with horrific images of durge being slaughtered every moment he tries to rest, making him the perfect assassin to do Bhaals bidding, making him a pawn through his grief
Bestie I wrote about 5,000 words of this on my lunch break are you SURE you want this 🥲
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solarspen · 10 months
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Good morning everyone it's the only day of the year that matters
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clownprince · 8 months
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hmmmm hnmmmmmmmm
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thejudgingtrash · 1 year
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Hello…
🧍🏾‍♀️
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she-toadmask · 9 days
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WHO JUST DUMPED 20+ TINY-ASS CYBERVERSE FICS AND INSTANTLY ORPHANED THEM ALL
MOST OF THEM ARE UNDER 500 WORDS WHAT IS THIS
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terashards · 1 month
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I'm never doing another Nuzlocke again after this, my anxiety is through the roof
#tera talk#yes I lead into Tate & Liza with a Manectric in front of an Earthquaking Claydol. yes it worked in my favour#seriously this fight was INSANE & it's a miracle no one died#okay so... the plan:#lead Manectric to one-shot Xatu & Gyarados to Intimidate Claydol to lower Earthquake's power for Manectric#switched Manectric to Grumpig (holding a Sitrus Berry) to tank an EQ & set up both Reflect & Light Screen#by this point Lunatone was out and using Calm Mind over & over (scary)#after Screens were up I switched Grumpig into Flygon & just... BlackGlasses!Crunch + Dragon Rage on Lunatone#basically just focused down on Lunatone & then Solrock#Screens went down as only Claydol was left & you can see it did a considerable number on Flygon (was certain she'd die)#but Crunch getting not one but two SpDef drops basically sealed the game (+ Gyarados' constant Dragon Rages)#I'm gonna be completely honest#if Manectric did not get the one-shot on Xatu#and if Lunatone attacked after three Calm Minds/landed its Hypnosis#then there would've been casualties & I probably would've lost everyone#last time I played through this game (casually) I had Sceptile & Whiscash with Surf & Ice Beam so it was a cinch#didn't really realise until later... oh... I don't have either of those guys on my team this time#I DO have a Barboach in the PC but decided against using them this playthrough as I had Gyarados & Tentacruel#though truth be told they all cover eachothers' weaknesses really well. Water Type slaps in this game I'm ngl
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perlelune · 3 months
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NDA | Coriolanus Snow
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When you get hired as a nanny for President Snow and his wife's firstborn, you’re beyond thrilled and grateful. But quickly, the perfect facade melts, revealing the ugly truth of what actually goes on in the Snows' house.
Warnings: NON-CON, Capitol! Reader, Innocent Reader, Cheating, Coercion, Blackmail, Power Imbalance
This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.
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Your worried eyes track the frenzied glide of the woman’s quill over the notepad. You squint, hoping to discern some of the words she’s scrawling that way, but they are indiscernible…just like the stone-cold expression of the bespectacled woman on the other side of the desk.
She catches you trying to peek. Your heart jumps.
As her sharp green gaze zeroes in on you, you clear your throat and shift in your seat.
She puts her quill down and twines her fingers.
“So what do you think sets you apart  from the other applicants?”
You chew on your lip. When you arrived to offer your candidature this morning, you naively believed you’d be early. Instead, you were forced to join the tail end of the massive waiting line stretching far outside the Snows’ estate. It didn’t hit you before that moment, how prized the position is. Each of the women and girls you saw radiated excellent breeding and impeccable manners. Many probably attended the University and could double as a tutor if the need presents itself.
This isn’t your case. Your parents left you and your brother Laertes with nothing when they suddenly passed away in a rebel bombing. You couldn’t blame them. This wasn't the plan. Who plans on dying and leaving their two children to fend for themselves?
Still, you now have a list of bills the length of your arm coupled with a massive mortgage to pay every month. And as Laertes’ sole caretaker, you must ensure you can afford to send him to University once he completes his education in the Academy.
Circumstances denied you that chance. Despite being of university’s age, you couldn’t afford the cost of tuition and had to drop out as soon as you got accepted. You want better for your little brother.
So as soon as you heard the news that President Snow and First Lady Livia Cardew were in search of a nanny for their son Martius, you jumped on the opportunity to apply. You rose before the sun, rummaged through your mother’s closet to find her best dress, and hailed a car to come here.
It’s a long shot, of course. You’re not as polished and impressive as some of the other women. You’re also noticeably younger. But the wages promised alone compelled you to take a chance despite the odds being unfavorable.
Fiddling with your hands, you meet the woman’s impassive stare head-on.
“What sets me apart?” You mull over your answer. You could paint a false, august portrait of yourself, your skills and your accomplishments. Or try to at least.
But what would be the point of pretending to be someone you’re not only to be found out later on? So you elect to tread the path of honesty.
“Nothing,” you say. “But I’m a hard worker. A very hard worker. In fact, I already have three jobs, one at a bakery, another as a clerk in an antique shop and I assist Fabricia Whatnot at her boutique sometimes.” Panic quivers inside you as the woman quickly jots something down on her notepad. You swiftly specify, “...But I’ll quit all of them if I get the position, of course.” You lick your lips as knots tie your stomach. “I can learn everything there is to learn on the spot. I love children, and…” You trail off, gaze traveling to your lap as you muse if you should reveal more. Your fists clench as you add, “I have a little brother who’s a few years older than Martius, and I’m really hoping I get this opportunity so I can give him the life he deserves.”
An unnerving quiet occupies the air. The wait is agony, your nails digging painfully into your palms. The jagged drumming of your heart bleeds inside your ears as she studies you.
Eventually, she leans back in the velvet chair, her face betraying no thought or emotion.
“You’re dismissed,” she says.
Your heart plummets to your feet. You shakily rise, dispirited as you drag your heels towards the door. You steal a glance above your shoulder. The woman’s attention has already drifted away from you as she shouts for the next applicant.
You sourly exit the office. You try to swallow your dejection as you note how many women are still waiting in line, each of them likely more qualified and experienced. It’s obvious you tanked the interview. Shoulders slumping, you take resigned steps through the elegant, palatial hallways of the Snow’s mansion. You get lost in admiring the crystal and gold chandeliers hanging from the high ceilings. There isn’t an inch of the house that doesn’t scream excessive, unattainable wealth.
You take your time soaking it in. Chances are you’ll never step foot in such a place in your lifetime ever again.
Distracted, you don’t notice the person in front of you before it’s too late. You bump straight into a hard, inflexible body. 
The sudden collision threatens your balance.
Fingers coil around your wrists as you stagger back, preventing your impending collapse onto the marbled floor.
As your attention drifts skywards, your jaw drops at who fills your vision.
“P-President Snow, my deepest apologies, s-sir,” you stammer, flames licking your cheeks.
As if you didn’t make yourself look dimwitted enough before, you now carelessly crashed into the leader of all of Panem. Just when you thought the day couldn’t possibly get worse.
You take him in. It truly is him. Shock fills you. 
 Tall and dazzling in a crisp white shirt and crimson vest that hints at his lean physique beneath the clothes, his signature blond waves slicked away from his face, he looks every bit the important figure that he is.
The flickering TV screen you own at home doesn’t do him justice.
A gentle smirk unfurls on his lips.
“It’s quite alright. I’m not made of sugar,” he jests.
“No…you’re not, your highness…majesty...I mean sir.”
Your blunder expands his smile. His cerulean gaze drags over your frame.
“Are you here for the nursemaid position?”
“I am, sir.” You unleash a deep exhale, his inquiry tossing salt on the fresh wound. The interviewer clearly wasn’t impressed by your less than stellar performance. Maybe you should have tried to mimic the way the girls with whom you attended the Academy behave more. They carry themselves with such confidence, wading through the world with the certainty of their destinies being secure, bereft of hardships unlike district dwellers.
You envy how carefree they get to be. Everyday you wake up worried you’ll come up short on a bill and you and Laertes will be forced to leave your family home. No matter how diligent you are at work, there never seems to be enough money to sustain the two of you. Even with three jobs, you’re barely eking out a decent living for you and your little brother. Many times, you’ve gone to bed hungry just so Laertes would not.
You don’t even realize tears have filled your eyes to the brim until a handkerchief is daintily pressed into your cheeks.
Flabbergasted, you blink up at President Snow. 
“Thank you,” you exhale, stunned by his kind gesture.
“What’s the matter?” he asks.
You search his eyes. Genuine interest lights up his pellucid blue orbs.
Without much thought, you confess, “I just don’t think I did very well with my interview.”
As he scrutinizes you in silence, cocking his head sideways, embarrassment rushes through you.
Words anxiously leave your lips in a tremulous string.
“God, I’m so sorry, spilling my problems to you as if you’re not an extremely busy man, sir.”
He shakes his head. “It’s quite alright. And do not count yourself defeated, sweetheart.” Your pulse stutters when he bends over you to whisper, “You may have left a stronger impression than you think.”
He nudges the pocket square between your hands. It’s still damp with your tears. You gape at it in awe. President Snow’s initials are elegantly etched in the left corner of the fabric.
“Here. Keep it. Though I’d much prefer it if you didn’t cry.” He pauses, studying you. “Girls as lovely as you never should.”
His words send your heart into a frenzy. For a while, you’re too stunned to move. You then shake yourself back to reality, noticing you’re now staring at the empty space where he used to stand. He’s gone. You look ahead. He’s already miles away from you, wrapped in conversation with who seems to be an assistant of his. 
Your thumbs press against the soft fabric of the pocket square. Cheeks ablaze, you hold it to your nose. It smells like roses, the same delicate scent that wafted from him a few minutes ago. Your back prickles. You pivot and are astonished to find the envious glares of some of the applicants still waiting in line zeroed in on you. Self-conscious, you rush to continue your exit, fleeing away from the hateful stares. 
As the outside gates come into sight, you can’t suppress an elated smile. It’s not everyday someone meets President Snow and receives such a gift from him. Shoving the handkerchief in your pocket, you vow to place it somewhere safe and always cherish it. 
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When you return home, your brother’s already sitting in the living room, his tiny brows scrunched in concentration and his nose buried in his books. Your stomach sinks. Everything you did today was for him. You can’t help but feel you missed out on a huge opportunity, one that’d have changed the course of his life forever. You glance around at the apartment. The walls are crumbling. The wooden floors are creaking. The pipes in the kitchen have been leaking for weeks, a measly bucket you must empty every morning the only thing preventing a flood. And at night, the pitter-patter of rodents’ paws resonates from the ceiling.
Every inch of your family home is in dire need of repairs.
Unfortunately, every penny you earn goes into rent and food, meaning the house falls apart a bit more everyday. Perhaps one day, you and Laertes will awake beneath the rubble of what’s left of your childhood home. Nightmares of that sometimes keep you up at night.
“How was the Academy today?” you chime, rummaging through the kitchen cabinets. Worry twists your chest. There isn’t much left. You’ll need to make do with cabbage and whatever other veggies are left. Perhaps you could toss in some leftover dried meat and make a stew.
“My teacher signed me up for advanced trigonometry,” your brother announces.
You close the cabinet and beam at him.
“Oh, that sounds hard. I’m proud of you.” It doesn’t exactly surprise you. Laertes’ always been exceptionally smart. Even his teachers noticed how gifted he is from an early age. Unlike you, he breezed through middle school and now the Academy.
It’s why it’s crucial you make sure he can go to the University. A mind like his shouldn’t be wasted.
You brother shrugs, exuding nonchalance.
“It’s fine.”
You rush to him. You wrap your arm around him playfully and hug him in his chair, pulling his cheek like when he was little. You know he hates when you do that but you can’t help teasing him a bit. It’s your duty as a big sister after all.
“Don’t downplay it. My little brother’s a genius.”
He wriggles his way out of the hug, rolling his eyes. 
“Stop it.”
You head back to the kitchen and fire the stove.
“I’ll make you something,” you say, smiling at your brother.
His brows knit. “Make something for yourself first.”
You nibble your bottom lip. You truly hoped he wouldn’t notice, how much smaller than his your portions are. But he’s growing; he needs it. Much more than you. Besides, how can he focus at the Academy and be the brilliant boy he is supposed to be with a growling stomach? You won’t allow it.
“Laertes…”
He shakes his head, his expression firm.
“No. You always do this. This time, we split whatever is left.”
Heaving out a resigned exhale, you nod. You whirl to resume preparing dinner.
You gather a boiling pot from the overhead cabinet and place it on the stove. With the ease of practice, you begin chopping vegetables and tossing them into the pot. You add spices and water. The mouthwatering aroma quickly fills the kitchen. Pride swells in your chest. Your cooking skills have improved so much in the last year since your parents passed. You now manage to bring flavor to the blandest of meals. 
Once the stew’s ready, you pour a portion in each bowl, putting just a little more in your brother’s and praying he will not notice.
You place the steaming bowls on the table and take a seat opposite him.
“No books at the dining table,” you admonish, mimicking the exact tone your mother used with your brother. Admitting defeat, Laertes sighs and sets his homework aside. The tiny victory tugs your lips skyward.
He tells you about his day at the Academy while the two of you eat. You’re delighted to hear he’s making a lot of friends and he’s at the top of his class for most science subjects. He’s struggling a bit more with his poetry and ethics classes, but you encourage him by reminding him he can just ask the teacher for extra assignments to keep his grade up.
“I interviewed for a new job today,” you reveal, stirring the spoon in your bowl while waiting for your brother to eat more of his food.
“How did it go?”
“Well, it pays really well so I’m hopeful.”
The hope dancing in his eyes makes your chest ache. You don’t have the heart to tell him you made a fool of yourself today. You may not be gifted like your brother, but you want him to know he can rely on you at least.
Pursing his mouth, he looks down at his stew.
“That’s great. It’d be good if you didn’t have to work as much.”
Your smile falters. “Don’t worry. I have everything under control.”
“Okay.”
His dour tone stirs your concern. You wish you were better at hiding things from him, making his childhood as normal as possible. But your brother’s twelve now, and that’s old enough to sense when things are wrong.
He rises from his seat. You frown as you note there’s still food left in his bowl.
“Finish your plate before going to your room.”
Annoyance pinches his features but he still picks up his bowl and hastily guzzles down the remainder of his stew.
“Happy now?” he says, wiping his mouth.
“Yes. Very,” you cheerfully respond.
He gathers his books and strides towards his room. 
Your voice rises.
“Don’t stay up too late to study, okay? I love you.”
“I…love you too,” he mumbles.
You bask in the moment as you clean the table. Thankfully Laertes is still at an age where he says it back. One day he might not. So you must cherish every instant. Every conversation, every hug, every ‘I love you’. Because it could all vanish in a second. You learned that the hard way a year ago.
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The day of the interview recedes to the back of your mind as you keep living your life. Work is harrowing, as usual, but you tend to your tasks as best as you can. Your arms ache as you knead the dough in the back of the bakery. You give yourself a second to wipe the sweat off your forehead. It’s been a hectic afternoon. There’s a massive pastry order for some Capitol heiress’ birthday due tomorrow. So you’ve been racing between the front desk and the kitchen in the back. A baker called in sick today, leaving you with twice the workload.
You know it won’t take much to crash into your bed and fall asleep tonight.
To make matters worse, the day hits its nadir when you get your pay that day. You peer inside the envelope for the umpteenth time. An anxious chuckle peals out of your lips. 
“I’m sorry I don’t want to complain, but…this doesn’t match the hours I put in.”
The owner scratches the back of his neck, a contrite expression etched on his face.
“I’m sorry too. With the new taxes imposed by the Capitol, I had to cut your salary.”
Slack-jawed by the news, no word leaves your mouth as you stare at him. He sighs.
“If it’s a problem, we can find someone else-”
“No, no,” you interrupt, blinking in panic. “Please, I need this job.”
He acquiesces and you’re forced to thank him despite feeling cheated. You actually scaled back your hours for your other part-times since this one paid more. What a waste. 
Dispirited, you return home. As you give the driver a bill for the fare, your insides wrench. Every bill counts. Perhaps you’ll need to walk back home from now on. The streets of the Capitol are notoriously dangerous but you can’t see any other way to save your dwindling wages. You already know you’ll need to request an extension for rent this month. How will you pay it, however?
You suppose you’ll have to figure it out. You always figure it out.
These are the somber thoughts swaying in your mind as you check the mailbox. 
Bills. Bills. And more bills. Your already sour mood plummets even more. But a slim, silver envelope sticking out from the pile corrals your focus. Curiosity surges inside you. It looks fancy and there’s a wax seal with the Capitol’s symbol keeping it shut. You rush to open it, heart fluttering in strange anticipation.
You unfold the neatly folded letter inside. As you read the words, you gasp, dropping the letter. Still trembling from shock and excitement, you bend to pick it up. 
You take a deep slow breath before reading it again. 
This time, a squeal escapes from your lips. 
You read it many more times to make sure your eyes aren’t just conjuring wild fantasies. 
After a while, you realize they aren’t. It’s true. 
Holding the letter to your chest, you toss yourself on your bed and kick your feet excitedly. 
You then place your palm on your forehead. In disbelief, you beam at the ceiling. 
Somehow…you’ve been hired to work for the Snows. You actually got the job. 
Perhaps there is light at the end of the tunnel.
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You fidget before the iron gates, smoothing absent wrinkles on your skirt. It’s one of the best outfits you could find on short notice that wasn’t moth-eaten or visibly overworn. You pray it’s enough. You let your gaze wander. The Snows’ estate truly is majestic. The lush gardens. The beautiful architecture. You feel a little small as you admire the mansion.
Remembering yourself, you pivot to the man who drove you there. You fish inside your pocket for a bill and hand it to him. He stares at you blankly from the driver’s seat.
A weary sigh ripples behind you.
You turn, your eyes widening. It’s the woman who interviewed you that day. She wears the same stern expression.
“You don’t need to pay him,” she explains, dismissing the man with her hand. He nods and drives away. “He’s your assigned driver. He’ll pick you up each day and take you back home.”
“Oh.” You offer your hand. “Nice to meet you…again.”
She gives you a lengthy onceover, completely ignoring your gesture. Then she motions at you to follow her. You let your hand fall to your side. Heat blooms in your cheeks. Perhaps, you were too enthusiastic just then. Straightening your spine, you try your best to keep pace with her quick strides.
“I’m Pandora. I supervise most housekeeping duties for the president. I’ll show you around the estate. Then you’ll meet the young Master.”
She gives you a tour of the mansion. You’re even more amazed than last time though you try to suppress your awe and not stare excessively. She shows you the garden as well. The sea of snow-white roses makes your head spin. She specifies that the only part of the house that is off-limits is the west wing of the mansion, as these are the First Lady’s apartments and she must have rest and quiet.
She ends the visit by taking you to the nursery. A smile spontaneously finds its way onto your lips. A toddler plays with his toy train on the floor. With his blonde curls and bright blue eyes, he bears a striking resemblance to his father.
“That’s him? He’s so cute,” you whisper. Even the stern woman’s expression thaws a little as she looks at the child, softening ever-so-slightly. You send her a questioning glance. She gives you a nod of approval. 
You approach the boy and crouch in front of him.
“Hi. You’re Martius, right?”
He lifts his head and beams at you. You’re immediately endeared. Again, his smile reminds you of President Snow. You suppose one could probably take over the world with a smile like that. 
You turn to Pandora.
“Is his mother around? I should probably introduce myself.”
Her face pinches. “Mistress Livia has been unwell as of late. She is not to be disturbed today as she is quite tired.”
“Of course.” Your lips squeeze shut for a few seconds but curiosity gets the better of you. A question burns on your lips, one that nagged you ever since you got the job. It slips out before you can think it through. “Is this…Is this why the president and his wife require a nanny? The First Lady is sick?”
Pandora glowers at you. You flinch as she steps further inside the room, her searing tone like a whip.
“You are here to do your job, and nothing else. Mistress Livia’s health is no concern of yours. Do you hear me?”
You rise on shaky feet. You forgot yourself.
“I-I understand. I’m sorry I asked.”
“This reminds me. You have to sign this,” she says, handing you a pen and clipboard. A thin stack of papers are attached to the clipboard. The front page spells ‘Non-Disclosure Agreement’ in bold letters at the very top. You scowl as you flip through the pages.
“What’s that?”
“It’s a contract, one signed by every one of the President’s employees.”
“I don’t understand most of what’s written here…”
A frustrated exhale peals from her lips.
“I’ll make it simple for you then. For the duration of your employment here, nothing you see or hear must ever leave this house. You are here to care for the young master, that is all. Nothing else should concern you. Is that clear enough?”
You swallow thickly. It doesn’t sound hard at all. Discretion is essential in every job, isn’t it? But the way Pandora makes it sound, you’d assume there are bodies buried beneath the Snows’ estate. You’d laugh if her death stare weren’t so disquieting.
You peruse the contract, perplexed by most of the legal mumbo jumbo filling the pages. None of it rings any bell. You understand the gist of it however. You must preserve the president and his wife’s privacy. While you don’t know the specifics of the first lady’s condition, her public appearances have been few and far between in the last few years.
She used to be the envy of every woman in the Capitol. Beautiful, young and married to the dashing President Snow.
She was a fairytale princess come to life.
Then their son Martius was born. And when they held him up from the balcony of their mansion for all of Panem to gaze upon, they truly seemed like the perfect family.
Until one day, Livia Cardew simply…vanished.
She was noticeably absent from all the events of the season, some she even hosted herself. Tongues wagged of course, rumors and wild theories spreading like wildfire. 
But no one knew the truth of what had happened to her.
The matter seems delicate. You promise yourself not to bring it up again.
You click the pen and scribble your name at the bottom of the very last page.
“I’ve…never signed a contract like that before starting a job.”
Pandora lets out a wry chuckle.
“Well, you’ve never worked for President Snow.”
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As promised, you quit your two other jobs to focus solely on Martius. You’re hesitant at first. Your departed parents taught you never to put all your eggs in one basket. And it’s exactly what you’d be doing by trusting the Snows. But when you receive your first paycheck, long before the end of the week, every qualm you had fades. It’s more money than you’ve ever had, more money than you expected. Rent isn’t an issue anymore. Neither is food.
Besides, gifts keep coming from the estate. Clothes mostly, for both you and Laertes, but also jewelry, perfume and other fancy things you don’t need. Overwhelmed by President Snow’s generosity, you try to send some of it back, but you don’t have the heart to return everything when you see your brother’s happy face when he opens his wardrobe one day.
You’ve caught the self-conscious glimpses he casts at his classmates sometimes, when not wearing the Academy uniform. Their clothes are always brand new and custom, perfectly tailored while his are stitched back together by your clumsy hands whenever they fray at the seams. You’re not a seamstress but you’ve always done your best. But you know your best doesn’t compare to the access and privilege those kids have.
Other than those blessings, your time with Martius has been a breeze. Only hazy memories of your brother as a toddler linger in your mind, but you don’t recall him ever being as sweet and calm as the little boy is.
It hardly feels like work, caring for the small child. You spend the day playing along with his games, reading stories to him and, as the day nears its end, the two of you feed the ducks in the massive pond behind the mansion. He even gives them names and gets upset when they fight with each other. 
“Lily doesn’t like James anymore,” he whispers to you one day, a sullen pout scrunching his tiny features. 
“And why is that?”
“I think she’s angry that he steals her food.”
You chuckle and ruffle his golden locks. The little boy always has a story for everything he sees. At all times, his world must make sense. So if he cannot find a reason to explain what fills his gaze, he’ll weave a tale that matches it. His stories are each more wild than the other and he sometimes utters words you’ve never heard a four year old use.
But you surmise it is expected from the son of the president. When he isn’t with you, the little boy is often with his private tutor. Even at his tender age, the importance of manners and eloquence is impressed upon him.
Martius tugs at your skirt when you make your way to the door. You look down. His blue eyes are pleading. 
“You’re leaving again?”
You heave out a long exhale. The little boy wasn’t so clingy before but with your bond growing, he’s been expressing more sadness from watching you go at the end of every day. 
You hunker down to his level.
“My little brother’s expecting me.”
His forehead puckers. “Stay…”
“I told you before, Martius. I have a brother. He’ll miss me if I’m not here.”
“Okay,” he mumbles, giving a begrudging nod. Tears already swim in his eyes though. Panic flows through you. You didn’t want to upset him. You pick him up and bounce with him in your arms to try to soothe him.
“Oh, no. Don’t cry, sweetie.” He buries his head in the crook of your neck, nearly squeezing you to death when he wraps his arms around your neck. His loud, tearful sobs swell in the room. “Hey, it’s okay. I’ll see you tomorrow like always, okay? So I need you to be brave for me.” His grip on you loosens as he sniffles. You put him down and the two of you pinky promise that you’ll return. Your heart twists at the sight of his tear-stained little face. 
You give his hair one last affectionate pat before rushing outside. If you stay, he might throw another tantrum. No matter what, you can never get mad at Martius. He’s just a child. In the absence of his mother, he’s bound to grow attached to any woman filling a role adjacent to hers. You loathe that you’re taking those moments from the first lady. Though it pleases you to have a steady job and spend time with the sweet boy, it feels wrong that she isn’t there. She should get to see her baby grow up. She should hear his inane ramblings and eccentric stories.
As time wears on, you’re dying to meet her and tell her about Martius. Is she truly so sick that she can’t even see him for a mere few minutes? You’re itching to break the rules and visit the west wing of the mansion. Sometimes you hear blood-curdling  screams and wailing coming from the dark halls but you never dared venture through them. You know that if you did, Pandora would crucify you.
Laertes’ well-being matters more than your curiosity.
Humming absently, you halt in your tracks in the middle of a hallway. Confusion has you blinking. A peculiar noise bounces faintly against the walls. Your gaze drifts sideways, where the noise seems to come from. You’re clocking out. Whatever’s going on in the house isn’t any of your business at this hour.
But what if someone needs help? What if it’s something bad? You’d feel awful if you learnt something happened the next day and you pretended to ignore it. So you gingerly approach the wall. Your fingers graze the tapestry covering it. 
Your eyes widen when the wall moves, a tiny crack forming in it.
Your eyes bulge. It’s an ajar door, you realize. A secret door one wouldn’t notice if they weren’t aware it was there. Light spills from the slight opening.
Confining your breath, you bend over the crack in the wall to get a glimpse of what’s behind it. 
The vision crowding your sight makes the blood in your veins freeze. 
President Snow rutting into a maid with his pants down to his ankles. His usually neat blonde locks are tousled, a few damp curls kissing his forehead. His massive cock glistens with the girl’s essence, disappearing into the girl’s spread lips over and over again. Her body is bent over the railing of the bed and her maid outfit is bunched around her hips, exposing her ass, the flesh trembling with each of the president’s harsh, pointed thrust.
Each time he snaps his hips he draws a broken moan from her. One of his hands is around the back of her throat while the other’s on the small of her back. He grunts low in his throat as she clenches around him, thrusting into her even faster than before. 
The obscene sound of their coupling rises, coalescing with the feral grunts spilling from the president’s mouth. In that moment, he’s not the poised gentleman you’re used to seeing, he is an animal in rut chasing his high.
A shocked exhale escapes your lips. Your hand flies to cover your mouth. President Snow’s head snaps up, his gaze landing straight on you.
Your heart slams against your ribcage.
You jump back from the door and push the secret door closed. You dart across the hallway, determined to find the exit as quickly as you can. You don’t glance back, your steps hasty and panicked. 
Pandora was right. It’s best not not to hear or see anything, to become a tomb in which secrets are buried.
You can only hope he didn’t recognize you through the tiny crack in the door. 
Though you’re shaken to your core, you continue your work as a nanny. You still need money. You may have set aside everything you made thus far, but it will only sustain you and your brother for a month or two. Besides, you’ve already handed in your resignation for your other jobs.  The positions have likely been filled. You can’t exactly show up out of the blue and ask for your former job back. 
No. So you convince yourself that it’s alright. You have a good thing going anyway. You’re making more than you hoped. The child is happy. You’re happy. All is well. Or it would be at least.
…If you could conjure the memory of President Snow railing into the maid far away from your mind. 
You want to forget it, bury the moment so deep in the abyss of your thoughts, it can never be unearthed.
But it isn’t so easy. Because every time your mind wanders even a little, you see him again. Skin glistening with sweat and blue eyes alight with lust. The image is tattooed into your brain. 
You wonder if the first lady knows. Perhaps it’s why she’s hiding away. The weight of her husband’s indiscretions may have grown too heavy to carry. It sours your heart. President Snow seemed so kind, good and noble. He was nice to you. You still have the breast pocket he gave you tucked away in a drawer. You loathe to think he’d do that to his wife. No woman deserves this.
You lift your head when your name is uttered. You get to your feet. Adrift in your thoughts, you didn’t realize Pandora was in the nursery. 
“Yes?”
“The president wants to see you in his office.”
Dread wrenches your gut. It’s exactly what you feared. Does he know? Did he see you? Your pulse picks up. What other reason would there be? He never summoned you before.
“Really, why?”
“He didn’t say, but I’m assuming it’s to congratulate you.”
Befuddlement wrinkles your forehead. “Congratulate me?”
Pandora heaves out a weary sigh. “Well, you’ve done much better than we thought,” she begrudgingly admits. “The young master smiles all the time.” She rolls her eyes. “Even if we must deal with his tantrums when you leave.”
A sliver of pride flutters through you with her admission. Pandora made her doubts about your capabilities plain and obvious from the beginning. It gladdens you that you may have changed her mind a little. 
“I’m sorry.” 
“It’s fine.” She turns to him, the ghost of a smile playing on her lips. “It’s a small price to pay for his happiness.”
Your smile vanishes as she adds, “Now let me escort you to the president’s office. He doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”
Swallowing the lump in your throat, you trail behind her. The entire trek to the president’s office, your stomach’s in knots. You keep wondering if it’s the day you’ll lose your job for being too nosy. You should have walked past the noise. You shouldn’t have peeked. 
You inhale a lungful of nerve as Pandora opens the door to his office and frees room for you to enter. Your clammy hands wrench in your lap. He’s sitting behind his desk. You stagger further inside the room as he motions for you to sit in the chair on the other side of the desk. He looks the same as the first time you stumbled into him, disarmingly handsome in an impeccable shirt and pants that flatter his long legs.
A sharp contrast to the version of him that has plagued your thoughts lately. 
His sky gaze follows you as you take a trembling seat.
“Are you settling in well?” he asks.
“Hm, yes,” you stammer, anxiously twining your fingers. “It’s pretty much the perfect job. I get to be around a cute child all day.”
“I hear my son is very fond of you.”
You bashfully dip your head. “He’s very easy to like. He’s such a good boy, sweet, kind, and curious. You and your wife are raising him well, sir.”
He hums in thought. “I can’t take much credit for that. I’ve tried my best to carve out time for Martius…but work’s kept me busy. As for Livia...” He lets out a humorless chuckle. “Well she isn’t quite herself these days.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
He places one hand under his chin, scrutinizing you. You try not to twitch beneath his stare, your insides tight with dread.
“Hm, it’s strange,” he states after a minute that goes by like an eternity.
Your head rises. “What’s strange?”
“A girl like you.” His lips drag upward. “Sweet, nurturing, beautiful. Shouldn’t you be married already?”
Your lips part in astonishment. This isn’t the line of questioning you expected. “I-I’m not.”
“No fiancé?”
“No, sir.”
“A lover then?”
Warmth rushes to your face.
“No…”
He laughs, mirth dancing in his cobalt orbs.
“You must pardon me for being so forward but I simply find it astonishing. No suitors? It’s hard to believe since you’re so lovely, sweetheart.” He tilts his head. You shift in discomfort, his attention making you feel see-through. “I mean, a husband would have made your life easier than it’s been thus far, wouldn’t he, dove?”
A long exhale flows from your lips. “I’ve had offers, after I graduated from the Academy. There was even this boy, he was so kind to me.” The memory draws a small smile from you. “He proposed. I’m sure he’d make a great husband, but…”
“But…”
Your mouth dries.
“I know it’s probably naive and unrealistic but I want to marry for love, that great, life-changing love, like in those romance novels my mom used to love, not money or status.”
His eyes twinkle. “Or financial stability?”
Shame gathers in your chest. You know it sounds silly when uttered aloud. 
“I know, I’m an idiot.”
“No, you’re not. It’s sweet that you still believe in love.” He appears lost in a faraway memory, his gaze hazing over with remembrance. “I used to believe in it too. I used to think, ‘Who needs wealth and success and power when love conquers all?’”
He chuckles but it’s bereft of amusement. 
“Really? What happened then?”
His gaze locks with yours. 
“I grew up.”
Confused, you frown. 
“But aren’t you and the first lady in love?”
Another laugh bursts from his chest.
“God, you’re sweet.” His tone lowers to a dulcet whisper. “It’s like none of the world’s ugliness has gotten to you yet.” He reveals matter-of-factly, “My wife and I hate each other.” His smile widens at your flabbergasted expression. “Always did. It’s best that way, more…efficient. Of course, there was a time, when we had…passion.” He licks his lips, something you can’t pinpoint flickering in his gaze. “But not anymore. She’s far too gone for that.”
He rises from his chair. You stiffen as he circles the desk, making slow steps towards you. 
“Which is why I must…satiate my needs wherever I can,” he mumbles, fingers lurking under your chin, forcing your eyes to fall upon him. “Do you understand my meaning, dove?”
“I…yes.”
Discomfort flares within you. Tension hangs in the air, so heavy it clogs your airways. 
He cocks his head, lips slanting crookedly.
“Do you really? With that innocent look in your eyes, it’s hard to tell.” His thumb sweeps over your shuddering bottom lip. “Men have needs. And am I not a man, sweetheart?”
“Y-Yes you are, sir.”
He bends over you to whisper in your ear. “You saw everything that day, didn’t you?” Your heart stops.
Flames lick your face as you bow your head. “I-I didn’t see anything.”
His warm breath ghosts over your earshell.
“Liar,” he mumbles.
Your pulse quickens.
He leans back and nudges your chin upward.
“Since my wife fell sick, I’ve been very lonely. And sometimes…” He looms over you, crowding your space as you peer up at him, fingers squeezing the arms of the chair. “I need something soft and warm to forget that feeling.”
President Snow slowly falls to his knees in front of you. His fingers find your thigh, starting to creep under your skirt. A devilish glint sparkles in his cobalt gaze. He finds your center, pressing the sheer fabric into your folds. You gasp. He chuckles at your reaction. He starts teasing you through your panties, tracing your slit and dragging over your tender bud. Your breath hitches as the air around you grows hotter. You grow slick beneath his finger, your thighs shaking as tingles bloom on your flesh.
“Sir…” you whimper, tears welling up in your eyes.
He pushes further inside you, adding another finger, and you unleash an audible breath. You try to close your thighs. He places his other hand on your knee to keep you open for him.
The air in your lungs grows thinner as he rubs your core through your soaked panties. The friction is a delicious torture. Pleasure pools in your belly causing your face to burn with shame. You’re getting embarrassingly wet with President Snow’s attention.
“I just want a little taste,” he murmurs, his deep timbre bleeding lust. “Just one time and it’ll never happen again,” he promises fervently as his lips graze your ankle. You find some relief when his fingers disappear from your drenched center. But your respite is ephemeral. He slips his hands under your ass and tugs at your panties.
Panic widens your eyes. Cheeks ablaze, you pull at the material between your legs with both hands. But he’s stronger than you and effortlessly drags the fabric along your legs. A wicked smile plays on his lips as tears glisten in your eyes. It’s soon down to your ankles. You squeal when the president yanks the panties off your foot, tossing them aside. Cool air sneaks beneath your skirt, swirling over your bare folds.
Hands over your knees to keep you spread, his wolfish gaze sweeps over your glossy folds. 
Your skin heats, embarrassment gathering in your chest. You’ve never been this vulnerable and exposed in front of anybody before.
“Please, President Snow, s-stop…” 
“But you’re dripping, sweetheart,” he states smugly, sinking a finger inside your weeping core, as if to make a point. Your breath hitches. He takes his finger out sluggishly. You clench when he grazes one of your sensitive spots. “Just as sweet as I expected,” he hums, obscenely licking your essence off his long digit.
Without a warning, he buries his head between your thighs. A sharp exhale leaps from your mouth. His cool tongue traces a wet trail over your folds. President Snow traces maddening patterns over your swollen bud causing your eyes to roll back.
You card your fingers through his silken platinum locks, hoping to push his head away. But the delightful sensations grow too overwhelming. You unravel beneath his sinful ministrations, your limbs twitching as the thread of your thoughts comes loose.
Your grip on his hair weakens. Your belly tightens, your chest rising and falling rapidly. 
You jolt as his tongue flickers over your tender heap of nerves. 
“P-President…” 
He purrs against your folds and the vibrations rock through your core. You squirm in the chair. Your thighs quake. Your vision dims, your mind blank as waves of pleasure swaddle you in their tide. Protests scatter on your tongue, replaced by wanton whimpers and moans.
Electricity ripples through your spine as you cry out.
Bliss engulfs you and your legs turn liquid. Shame swirls in your gut as your juices coat his tongue. He drinks your nectar, elation rumbling in his chest. 
When he lifts his head, you hardly recognize him. The feral glow in his gaze chills your blood.
There is no time to collect yourself, realize what just occurred, as the blonde gathers your limp frame from the chair and places you on his desk. Documents and papers are flung to the ground as he grabs your thighs and presses his throbbing hard-on against your cunt. 
He hastily unbuttons his pants, freeing his hard length. He fists his cock and guides it through your wet entrance. Your back arches, the sudden intrusion robbing you of air. He reaches the hilt of you in a few seconds, giving you no time to accommodate his thick girth. You collapse over the desk, weak whimpers leaving you as your walls are stretched to their limit. He drags out of you, his pupils flaring as they trace the motion of his length in and out of you. Coriolanus leans over you. He snaps his pelvis into your hips, each of his thrusts tearing tearful moans from your throat.
When you turn your head, hot tears flowing down your cheeks, he grabs your chin so you’re forced to meet his lustful stare. Bracing himself on the desk, he reaches between your bodies to pinch your swollen clit. He plucks at your soft bud until you shatter around him with a sob. His throat bobs, a look of sheer bliss flitting across his face when you clench around him.
“I’ve been dying to fuck you the minute I saw you,” he confesses, trailing soft pecks over your collarbone. A sinister chuckle peals from his lips. “The way you looked at me with those sweet, innocent eyes…it made me rock-hard.” He tilts your chin towards him, his thumb skimming over your parted lips.
Satisfaction glimmers in his eyes as they flick over your prone form.
“You should thank me. Those boys at the Academy wouldn’t know what to do with a girl like you…” His cock twitches inside you. Sticky warmth spills from him, painting your walls and dripping past your hole. Drops of his seed leak onto the desk. A throaty sigh pours from President Snow’s throat as your cunt flutters around him.
His teeth nip the skin of your neck.
“...But I do.”
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After what occurs in his office, you hope to avoid President Snow. Those hopes are swiftly dashed however. President Snow lied to you. It doesn’t happen once. In fact, you begin to lose count of the actual number.
Every time the president finds a little spare time, he summons you.
Sometimes you end up bent over the desk in his office as he pours the frustrations of the day into your warm hole. Sometimes he prefers you sprawled on your back in one of the multitude of luxurious beds in the mansion while he devours you as if you were his very last meal. And at times, he grows even more impatient and simply shoves you against a wall before ravaging you.
More than once, a maid or footman has walked in on the two of you, and you’ve had to swallow your shame and embarrassment.
As you’ve come to learn, the entire staff is aware of Coriolanus Snow’s insatiable appetite and none of them seems to care.
You feel sick, desperate, trapped in something twisted and awful you never signed up for.
But how does one say no to President Coriolanus Snow? The entire Capitol yields to his every whim. And you are the same. Here to bow and smile and lie back whenever he demands it.
You long to focus on your job, to care for Martius and nothing else. Whenever the boy looks up at you with those innocent blue eyes, eerily similar to his father’s, your stomach wrenches. You pray he never comes to learn what kind of man his father is. You wish he’d stay just as kind and sweet as he is now.
Those are the thoughts drifting through your mind as you watch Martius play with his toy trains. Your eyes wander towards the window. Outside, orange and purple hues are bleeding into the sky, the afternoon nearing its end. Your stomach coils. It’s during times like these that President Snow often seeks you out. You’ve tried to run away from him but it’s all a game to Coriolanus, and he always delights in chasing you through the hallways.
Your brows crumple as you note that Martius has stopped playing. He drops his toy and rushes to your side. Confounded by his behavior, you’re on the cusp of asking him what’s wrong…but your gaze follows what caught his attention on the other side of the room.
You fall silent, your eyes rounding in shock.
“Martius. Come here, my love,” says the blonde woman in a white robe and nightgown, her arms wide open.
Time stands still for a few seconds. It takes you a while to realize who stands before the door. She looks so different, more ghost than woman, her glassy blue eyes hollow and sunken. But her likeness is unmistakable. Even with her graying, limp tresses and ashen complexion, you recognize Livia Cardew. The president’s wife.
You bolt to your feet. Arms still open, Livia takes slow steps towards Martius.
“I’m your mom, sweetie. Don’t you remember me?”
The little boy’s fists clutch your skirt as he hides his face against your leg.
“You’re not my mom.”
A stricken look twists Livia’s features as she shrinks. As if her own son just drove a knife through her heart. Your chest twinges. While her abrupt appearance is a shock, you can’t imagine how she must feel. You place a hand on Martius’ back and try to nudge him forward.
“Martius. It’s the First Lady, your mother. Go on, hug her,” you urge softly.
He shakes his head, tears filling his eyes as he hides behind you even more.
You’re stunned. Has it truly been that long?
“Martius-”
You don’t get to finish your sentence, Livia lunging at you, her eyes wild with fury.
“You! This is all your fault,” she hisses. She points at you and scoffs, “You’re his new whore, aren’t you?” Her mouth wobbles as she grips her head. “First you take my husband, now my son.”
Martius begins to sob. His loud cries overlap with his mother’s frantic yelling. You cover his eyes, tossing Livia an apologetic look.
“First Lady, I never meant-”
Before you can explain yourself, she grabs a nearby vase and smashes it. White roses scatter on the floor. Stomping all over the petals and broken glass, she collects one of the shards and races towards you. Terror numbs you. You freeze as Livia aims the shard at you, scarlet droplets dripping on her nightgown as she squeezes her fist around the glass.
Your eyes shut as you wait for the inevitable strike.
You shiver, waiting still.
But it doesn’t come.
“Livia, darling, that’s enough. It’s time for you to sleep and take your medicine.”
The familiar sound of Coriolanus’ voice causes your eyes to snap open. 
You watch him restrain a struggling Livia. She curses at him, fighting him with all her might. It’s a painful spectacle. 
“No, don’t touch me!” Other staff members rush into the room. It takes several people to hold Livia down, colorful expletives pouring from her mouth as she punches and kicks whoever comes close. “You’re killing me! You bastard! Give me my son back! Martius! Martius!”
The child trembles against your skirt, his tear-filled gaze stuck to the floor.
Eventually someone manages to stick a needle into Livia’s neck. She instantly goes limp, arm still reaching for her son in her last conscious second.
“Take her away,” Coriolanus instructs.
The first lady’s flaccid form is dragged out of the room. Still shaken by what you just witnessed, you don’t move a muscle. President Snow approaches you, worry swimming in his blue orbs. 
“Are you alright, dove?” He cups your cheeks, his brows crumpling as his gaze settles on your neck. “I’ll have Doctor Gaul look at you. She has an ointment for that.” He caresses your cheeks, smiling. You gape at him. How can he smile at a time like that? “It won’t even scar. I promise.”
You graze your neck. Your fingers come away bloody. Oh. Livia nicked you with the shard but you didn’t even feel it. Perhaps adrenaline numbed you to the pain.
“Dada,” Martius chimes, lifting his chubby arms.
Coriolanus’ face warms as he picks up his son. He tosses him in the air and catches him. Martius giggles through his tears.
“My sweet boy. That was very scary, wasn’t it?” he says, balancing his son on his hip. Martius nods and wipes his nose. Coriolanus flicks his cheek, beaming at him. “Don’t worry, son. The scary lady won’t bother you anymore in a few months.”
A wave of ice blows through your veins. You wonder why the president uttered those words with such certainty. Like a promise. Or a prophecy. Almost as if he knows exactly when the grim reaper will come knock on his wife’s door.
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The next day, you hand over your resignation to Pandora. Her expression is skeptical as she gauges the manila folder you give her.
“This is for the president,” you announce.
She unleashes a deep exhale. “You should reconsider, sleep on it.”
You almost laugh. Sleep on it? You can hardly find rest, the picture of a disheveled Livia Cardew crying out for her son haunting your nights. Whatever befell upon the poor woman, you wouldn’t be surprised if her husband somehow had a hand in it. It broke your heart, seeing her like that, her own son unable to recognize her. You also despise the role Coriolanus forced you to play in erasing her memory.
All of it feels wrong. 
And most of all, you don’t want President Snow to use you to satisfy his lewd desires anymore. He took all your firsts, all the moments that should have been beautiful, and made them a nightmare you have to relive every time he touches you.
You respected him; you admired him. Now you can’t be in his presence without dread whispering through you. What will he make you do this time? How will he make you small and powerless again?
“I can’t…I can’t do this anymore. He can hire someone else to care for him.”
Pandora purses her lips and shakes her head.
“It’s really not that simple. The president has developed…a fondness for you.”
You bristle. “I have to go back home. Laertes is expecting me.”
“You won’t like what comes next, trust me.” Her gaze narrows. “No one leaves the president.”
Ignoring the shudder elicited by her daunting words, you pivot and make a beeline towards the exit. Pandora’s voice echoes down the hallways.
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
Depleted, you glumly make your way to the gates. You enter the car that takes you back home everyday. Your thoughts wander as the Snow’s house grows smaller through the car window. You were thrilled when you got this job. It felt like kismet after the year you and your brother had. A rainbow after the rain. A slice of hope.
How it all went to hell so quickly. You’re still reeling from it. You’ve no idea what you’ll do next. The only thing you know for certain is that you will not step foot into the Snows’ estate ever again.
The car suddenly halts. You bump your head into the passenger’s seat. Wincing, you grip the sides of your head. As you retrieve your senses, you look around. You stopped.
You toss a questioning look at the driver.
But before he can respond, the car door opens and you’re yanked outside. Two pairs of strong arms drag you away from the car.
You take in the blue uniforms of the men. Terror pulses through your blood.
Peacekeepers.
Noting the guns at their sides, you stop trying to resist. There’s no fighting against them, ever. They are the Capitol’s fist and carry the President’s will. You don’t stand a chance. In fact, you likely never did. You slump in their grip, despair thrumming inside you.
They escort you to a black car with tinted windows. Your pulse soars. You’ve only ever seen one individual step out of this car.
The peacekeepers toss you inside and slam the door shut.
Your fearful gaze rises to him.
He casually sits in front of you, his eyes narrowed.
“You disappoint me, dove.” He lets out a weary sigh. “After everything I’ve done for you…you try to leave me. I thought you were smarter than that.”
You twine your hands, sputtering, “I-I’m not the right person for this job, sir.”
He slides his fingers under your chin, tilting it upward.
“Oh but you’re perfect. My son loves you. You’re sweet, dutiful and most importantly…” He smirks. “You are mine. Mine to hold, spoil and fuck whenever I please for however long I please.”
The prospect fills you with dread. He wants you to be his toy again, submissive, available whenever he pleases.
“Sir…”
His jaw ticks, his hold on your jaw tightening.
“Wouldn’t it be wonderful if your brother could attend the University, free of charge? A bright young mind such as his, I believe he deserves it.” His blue eyes twinkle. “Instead of, let’s say…end up in a District, his name chosen as a tribute in the next Hunger Games.” Your heart sinks to your feet. “That’d be awful, wouldn’t it? So cruel…” he mumbles, stroking your trembling bottom lip.
“No, please,” you beseech, tears swelling in your eyes. Your brother’s all you have left in the world. Nothing can happen to him. 
Coriolanus fondles your cheek, the tender gesture a sharp contrast to the wicked words rolling off his tongue.
“It’s all up to you, then, dove. As long as you behave, I’ll give you the world. But if you act like a little brat again…” A threat lurks in his soft tone, a glint of madness swaying in his cobalt orbs. “I really don’t know what I might do.”
Chills dance over your spine.
“I promise to never do it again,” you blurt out.
He pulls out a square from his breast pocket. It’s identical to the one he used the first time.
But a lifetime seems to have passed since that moment, the world now so different from what you imagined, and the man before you…even more so.
“Good girl,” he lauds while swiping away your tears. 
He shoves the pocket square back in its place. Coriolanus then beams at you as he starts unbuttoning his shirt and undoing his pants.
“Now, I’ve had a long, exhausting day. So how about you get on your knees for me and make it better with that sweet mouth of yours, dove?”
5K notes · View notes
ichorai · 11 months
Text
snow spider ; miguel o'hara.
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pairing ; miguel o'hara x spider!reader (gender-neutral)
synopsis ; you were the ice to his fire—and miguel was burning for you.
words ; 4.4k
themes ; fluff, slight angst
warnings / includes ; set before the events of atsv, descriptions of injury/violence, cursing, a bit suggestive, mentions/appearances of other spidey characters, ben being a dramatic idiot, peter & may being adorable, cameos of magneto and doc ock, miguel is down so bad, can you guys tell i'm also in an asoiaf phase ? (winter is coming !!)
a/n ; there will be a part two set during the events of atsv !!
main masterlist.
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You were Miguel’s seventeenth recruit. The first of your name. The first that wasn’t a Peter Parker, or a Jessica Drew, or a Ben Reilly. 
When Miguel dropped into your universe, one rife with crime and tragedy, stricken by a never-ending winter, he fell into a large pile of snow. 
“Damn it,” he whispered through chattering teeth, brushing off the frigid frost clinging to his suit and glancing around the iced-over city. There were sparse few people littering the streets, hovering over trash-fires and clutching rumbling stomachs. This was certainly a stark contrast to Nueva York—the universe looked dead, almost. A ghost town, frozen over into nothing but a glacial artifact.
Before Miguel could start forward to look for the Spider of the universe, a sticky web shot out from seemingly nowhere, binding his hands together. Ah. It seemed that you’d found him before he could find you.
“You’re not from here. I can’t smell the winter on you,” a voice echoed, saturated with curiosity, edged with caution. A second later, you materialized in front of him, clad in a white suit, sharp silver lines running over your form. On your chest was a spider, a pale snowflake engraved into its abdomen. Miguel stared at you with wide eyes. “Who are you?”
A beat of silence. 
“Your universe is cold,” was all he could think of saying, still caught off-guard. 
You took a step back. “My universe…?”
After clearing his throat, he shook himself out of his reverie. “My name is Miguel O’Hara. I’m from a different universe. I’m here to recruit you into my team to help keep the multiverse from collapsing.”
You shifted, muscles still tense. “How do I know you’re telling the truth?”
Lifting his wrists, Miguel twisted a hand and used his sharp claws to cut himself free of the sticky bonds. “Let me show you.”
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It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Miguel wasn’t supposed to like you this much. You were just meant to be another recruit for the Spider Society… maybe a close work companion, or a trusted friend at best. 
But as he watched you dart in and out of visibility, your suit only but flashes of white and silver, he couldn’t help but marvel at how easy it was to work with you. How much he genuinely enjoyed working with you, spending time with you, listening to you laugh at his stiff quips. And he really thought he was being subtle about it, but Jessica had already picked up on Miguel’s keen interest in you, always teasing him about having a crush on another Spider.
It wasn’t a crush, though. No, Miguel just really liked your work ethic.
Right?
“Heads up!” you yelled, swinging forward and using the momentum to kick an incoming car barreling right in his direction. The metal doors caved in beneath the power of your strike, veering to the left just in time to miss him. 
The two of you were taking down another anomaly that’d cropped up, one of the several dozens in only the past week. This anomaly, however, wasn’t the regular neighborhood villain they’d usually get, but instead an omega-level mutant: Magneto. 
Shards of metal rained down around you, but you were quick to deflect by thwipping out large, sticky webs to catch them before they could impale you. 
“This guy manipulates metal, Miguel!” you yelled. “Cuffs won’t work on him!” 
Another large metal pole rocketed straight for you, but Miguel dove towards you, yanking you out of the way.
“Thanks!” you told him, a bit too wound up to notice his large hands tightly wound around your midriff. “Can you distract him for me?”
Nodding wordlessly, Miguel shot out several glowing, synthetic webs in quick succession to momentarily blind Magneto. You used his shoulder to launch yourself upward, turning invisible in mid-air. 
Before the man could realize what was happening, you yanked his protective helmet off, landing a calculated strike to the back of his head. Immediately, all the bits of metal floating in the air came plummeting to the ground, and Magneto went limp in your hold. You swung down to the ground, coming back into view. 
“You’re gonna have to alert one of the Spiders that we need a metal-free cage for him,” you told Miguel, a bit breathless. 
Okay, a lot breathless. There was a sharp sting on your side—a broken piece of metal must have grazed you during the fight.
Miguel wound an arm around you to help you walk, concern festering within his chest at the sight of crimson staining your once-pristine white suit, his other hand dragging an unconscious Magneto by the scruff of his collar. With a tap of the watch, a portal opened up, flashing a multitude of bright oranges and purples. 
Back in his universe, Miguel was quick to hand Magneto over to a few Peters, telling them to be careful not to get any metal near him. You pulled off your mask and squeezed Miguel’s bicep in gratitude when he shifted his hold on you, ensuring that you wouldn’t put any weight on your injured side. Even exhausted, you were beautiful. Miguel remembered the first time he saw you without your mask: the entirety of his linguistic vernacular went flying out the window and he was left embarrassingly spluttering out a long string of incoherent sentences. You were patient with him, beaming wide and nodding emphatically, even though none of what he said had made sense. 
Yeah, alright, fine. Miguel had a crush. It really wasn’t a big deal (it was a very big deal). He’d be damned if he’d ever admit it to Jessica, though—that woman would never let him live it down.
Several Spiders waved hello to the two of you as you hobbled by, and you could only give them a winded half-smile in return. Some of them asked if you were alright, noticing the blood on your suit, but you reassured their worries away, “I’m fine. Miguel’s got me.”
A rush of protectiveness fell over him, and he clutched onto you all the tighter, hurrying to make his way back to the base. There were a few Spiders hanging around the control panels, chattering amongst themselves, and Miguel gave them a quick scan to make sure things were going smoothly since his departure. Once everything seemed to be in order, he finally tugged you into a more secluded room, helping you sit on a table as he grabbed the first aid kit. 
“Sorry,” he murmured, ripping off his mask as well. His dark hair was disheveled, sharp brown eyes softening with guilt. “I got distracted during the fight.”
“Hey, it happens,” you replied warmly, fingers lifting to pat his cheek. The feeling of your cold skin pressed up against the blistering heat emanating from his cheeks made a shiver dance up his spine. “We’re alive, and we got the anomaly. Everything’s fine.” 
“But you’re hurt.”
“I’ll heal.”
With careful, fleeting touches, Miguel drew back the ripped fabric of your suit to inspect the gash in your side. He cleaned away as much blood as he could, murmuring gruff apologies every time you flinched. The guilt worsened when he began deftly stitching up your wound—it didn’t go past his notice when your face twisted with the pain, and you bit your lip in a fruitless attempt to keep the sharp agony at bay.
“You did good out there, Y/N,” he said, desperate to distract you. “What was it like being the Spider in your universe?”
You spared him a loose grin, appreciating his attempts to keep you entertained. 
“Tiring,” you admitted, fingers digging into his shoulders when he began another stitch. “I mean, I’m sure you’ve heard the same story a million times by now. I was a scientist, trying to find a way to reverse the never-ending winter. I was bitten by a radioactive winter-spider… the only kind of spider left after our world iced over. I, uhm… I lost my uncle. My mom, shortly after. She was captain of the police force.” 
There was a long pause. It was obvious that you weren’t too keen on divulging all the details just yet. Your eyes watered with the memory, a glimmering film of tears warbling over your lower lashes, and Miguel gently patted your knee in understanding, silently reassuring you that you didn’t have to tell him everything.
You drew in a deep breath. “I realized I had powers—I had all the abilities of a spider, and I could turn invisible, and withstand the cold much more than before. I was known as the Snow Spider. A lot of people died from the frost. I couldn’t save them. I tried to help as much as I could, but it was just never enough. And then… I met you.” A smile graced your expression, one that sparked life into Miguel’s heart. “I moved from just helping my city, to helping the entire multiverse.”
Before you knew it, Miguel was tying off the last stitch, biting the thread short with his sharp fangs once he was done. You murmured a sincere thanks, placing your palm flat against his chest, feeling the quick thrum of his heart slamming against his ribcage.
If you noticed how his pulse seemed to kick up a notch with your ministrations, you didn’t say anything. For that, Miguel was grateful.
“There you go. That’s a brief summary of my life story. It’s only fair if you tell me yours.”
The man met your gaze, irises dark and warring with conflict.
“What’s there to say? I got powers, just like you. I lost people, just like you. I built the Spider Society… and then I met you.” The last bit was said as he nudged you gently, and he offered you a tentative smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes.
Hesitant, you lifted your hand, softly grazing your knuckles against his cheek. Icy was your touch, but it felt nice—almost addicting. He found himself leaning against your hand, shutting his eyes as he exhaled.
“You’re a mystery, Miguel,” you murmured, leaning forward to press a chaste kiss to his cheek as thanks for patching you up, before sliding off the table to stride away. Miguel watched you go with a lump in his throat. “Luckily for you, I like mysteries.”
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“How long has that been a thing? I haven’t noticed because I’ve been too busy thinking about my… miserable past,” sighed Ben, coming to stand beside Jessica, the two of them watching Miguel follow after you like a lost puppy, face uncharacteristically mellowed with an undeniable lovesick expression. 
“It’s not a thing,” she replied with an amused scoff. “Not yet, at least.”
You halted what you were doing and turned around to grin at Miguel. “Look, I stitched my suit back together. It’s good as new!” 
His dark, molten eyes gleamed with affection. “It looks great.” He caught sight of your web-shooters, fixed against the base of your hand. “I still can’t believe you need those.”
“Well, I can’t believe you have spinnerets embedded into your skin. I can’t tell if I’m more grossed out or curious to know more,” you shot back, taking his hand to inspect his wrist with narrowed eyes. “What other kind of powers do you have?”
With a roguish grin, he bared his teeth, sharp fangs drawing out. 
“I can never get over those. They’re kinda intimidating, but in a cool way.” Before you could stop yourself, you tacked on, “And really fucking hot.”
Heat crawled up his neck. He stared blankly at you. “They’re poisonous.”
Still, you smiled at him, all sweet and flustered. “Hm. It’s a shame, really. I definitely would’ve asked you to bite me if not for the venom.” Neither of you were quite sure if you were joking or not.
Miguel was certain he was going to combust into flames. “I can still bite you without injecting the poison into your system. It’s a voluntary response.”
To his surprise, you burst into a fit of laughter. Gods, he was absolutely smitten with that sound. The way your nose wrinkled, the side of your eyes creased, the shaking of your shoulders as you chuckled… it was all too much for Miguel.
“Don’t tempt me with a good time,” you warned.
“Oh, I can do much more than just tempt,” said the man in front of you, making your laughter taper away into silence. 
You studied him for a moment longer. Before you could say anything, both of your watches beeped simultaneously. With one more amused huff, you patted his shoulder, brushing past him and pulling your mask over your face. “Come on, mister. Anomalies to catch, universes to save… we can continue this conversation later.”
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The months pass by in a blur. 
You were wrangling back another Doc Ock anomaly, having webbed up all his metal tentacles, easily tossing him into a temporary laser cage with a sweet smile. The villain was spitting obscenities, going on and on about the power of the sun in his grasp, how you’d ruined everything for him. 
“You’ll pay for this!” he yelled, slamming his fist against the glowing barrier. 
“Sorry, Doc,” you said with a mild grin. “I’ve met around a dozen of you, and so far, you were the most compliant. That makes you my favorite!”
You saluted him with a wink, before turning on your heel and striding away. It wasn’t long before Miguel found you, falling into step with your stride.
“Look at you, taking on anomalies all on your own,” he murmured lowly, nudging your side with his elbow. “Good job.”
With a scoff, you pulled off your mask, regarding him with an expectant gaze as you leaned forward, so close that your nose nearly brushed against his. He could feel the cold frost of your breath blow over the heated planes of his cheeks. “Well, then, Mr. O’Hara, wouldn’t I deserve a reward?”
The vampire-spider only flushed at your words, mouth falling open and shut as he struggled with a rebuttal. 
Your laugh, soft and tinkering, made his heart nearly seize within his chest. Still chuckling, you shoved away from him, saying that you had to get back to your universe to make sure everything was still in order there.
As you made your way out of the room, using your watch to portal through to your wintry hellscape, Jessica appeared out of nowhere beside him, one hand on her heavily pregnant belly, and the other cocked upon her hip. 
“God, you really can’t be more obvious, can you?” she asked.
Miguel spared her a glance, snapping out of his reverie and standing up straighter. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Everyone knows you’re in love with the Snow Spider. And don’t you deny it—I know a liar when I see one.” She watched Miguel frown, but didn’t bother protesting her claim. “Yeah. That’s what I thought. Tell them, you big grump. Y/N deserves to know.”
Before he could reply, Jessica was already hastening away, yelling over her shoulder that she had to go to the bathroom because the damn baby was kicking against her bladder again.
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Jealousy was not an emotion Miguel was well acquainted with. Ever since he witnessed an entire universe crumbling away in front of him, he was careful not to get too attached to anything. To anyone.
But he did. He grew attached to Jessica, who was his most trusted friend, always giving him the best advice and always available to lend him a helping hand. Though he’d never admit it, Miguel was also rather fond of Ben and his obnoxious penchant for his dramatic tragedies. And, most obvious of all, he was undoubtedly very close to his best soldier, Lego Peter.
Then there was you.
It infuriated him—the way you’d smile around him, give him the most fleeting of touches, always pleasantly cold, leaving prickly goosebumps in your wake. You would offer him an affectionate nudge and a myriad of teasing compliments that made his stomach want to fold in upon itself. But Miguel tried not to think too much of it: you were a generally kind person, with many of the Spiders in the society taking a certain liking to you. It didn’t go past his notice that you’d caught more than a few romantic eyes. Every time a Peter or a Ben would openly flirt with you, he could feel himself bristling, bile rising within his throat.
Again, Miguel wasn’t used to feeling jealous. He wanted to be the one cooking dinner for you, holding you in his arms, kissing you, touching you—
To his relief, you never paid them much mind, often politely declining with a poorly-forged excuse of having to return to your universe.
It was nearly a year since you’d first met Miguel when you were at Headquarters, holding a babbling Mayday as she crawled all over you. You laughed when she climbed up onto your shoulders, slipping down into your hands with a gleeful coo, blue eyes bright and wide. With gentle hands, you brushed her messy ginger hair away from her face. 
“She doesn’t look like you, huh?” you asked Peter B. Parker. “She must be a carbon copy of her momma.”
“A good thing,” admitted the man beside you, muffling a yawn as he dug the heels of his palms into his sleep-deprived eyes, adorned with dark bags. “Wouldn’t want her taking after her old man, now would I?”
“Why not?” you asked, amusedly watching when May shot out a web from her tiny shooters, swinging away to clumsily scale a nearby wall. “I think you’re very handsome. Trust me, the sleep-deprived look is very trendy right now. In my universe, at least. Nobody can really sleep well with the never-ending cold we got going there.”
Peter gave you a loose smile. “You know what, you’re right. Dad bods are making a comeback. By the way, did I tell you about my coin collection—”
Before Peter could finish what he was saying, your watch beeped noisily, and Ben’s slumped hologram appeared over your wrist. “Y/N, I’m glad you’re here,” he said. You had to hold your tongue not to retort that he was the one that’d called you. “I need you to come comfort me and hold onto my strong, muscular arms as I tell you about my gruesome past.” The pale image of Ben flickered as he flexed his biceps. 
You rolled your eyes to the side. Ben had become a close friend during your time with the Spider Society, nearly inseparable after you’d saved his life from an Electro anomaly once. That man was quite the emotional one, he was.
“I’ll be there, just give me a minute.” 
“Bring me one of those Spider-burgers, will you? Extra ketchup and no p—”
You tapped at your watch and his hologram disappeared before he could finish his request. With a mild wince, you glanced at Peter. “You wanna come with me and listen to Ben dramatically mope for an hour? I’ll treat you and May to Spider-burgers, because it looks like I’ll have to stop by there, anyway.”
“I would, I really would, but I gotta put May down for a nap,” he said with a sympathetic slant of his lips. As if on cue, the baby fell back into Peter’s arms, yawning widely. Bouncing her up and down, Peter absent-mindedly remarked, “Make sure Miguel doesn’t catch you being all sweet with Ben. That guy is crazy about you. Hah, he’d lose his marbles!” 
You blinked.
“What?”
Peter froze, realizing what he’d just said.
“What?” he parroted.
“No, uh, what did you say, about Miguel being…”
“Nothing! Huh? I didn’t say anything.”
“Yes, you did. I heard you. Peter, what are you saying? Miguel is—?” 
Sheepish, Peter scratched the back of his head. “Oh, wow, would you look at the time!” Peter pulled down the sleeve of his pink bathrobe to mimic looking at the watch. He hastily stepped away. “I have to go. I didn’t say anything. Bye! I’d love a Spider-burger with you another time! Bye! See you later!”
You watched in bewilderment when the older man swung away with his baby in his hands, muttering out a long string of panicked curses under his breath.
Miguel was crazy about you?
After a few seconds of deliberating your next move, you shot out a web and swung away, heading to Miguel’s private office, where you knew he would be buried in figuring out a solution to the influx of new anomalies. Surely Ben would be alright with you showing up a bit late (he wouldn’t, but you had more pressing matters at hand).
“Hey, Miguel,” you greeted with a soft voice, slipping inside after knocking twice. “Hope I’m not catching you at a bad time.”
The man offered you a warm grin. “Never a bad time with you. What’s going on?”
“Well, I just… I had a rather interesting talk with Peter B,” you started, striding across the office until you stood just in front of his desk, with Miguel on the other side.
He tilted his head. “Was it about that collection of coins he lost to an anomaly? He needs to get over that.”
“I—what? The poor guy lost his coin collection? He’d been working on that for years!” Shaking your head, you mindfully got back on track. “Well, no, that’s not what we talked about.”
Dark eyes narrowing, Miguel crossed his arms, deadpanning, “What did he tell you?”
There was a rather mischievous hue to your expression that Miguel misliked. Slow and deliberate, you stepped around the desk, fingers dragging along the smooth top. You stood so close to him that your chest was only a hair’s breadth from his—if he were to take too deep a breath, the two of you would be touching by now.
“Hm… Peter accidentally let slip that you have feelings for me. Is that true, Miguel?” The way his name rolled off your tongue nearly made him choke as his brain short-circuited. 
“I… I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, echoing the exact thing he had said to Jess a month ago. 
You studied him, gaze dragging from his stiff face, to his tense stature, and back up again. It may have been a trick of light, but Miguel could swear he saw your eyes linger on his lips. 
With a hum, you leaned even closer. He could hear your heart thrumming now, a steady, strong beat—which completely juxtaposed against his own rapid pulse, drumming loud within his ears. Up this close, he could smell your perfume, see the flecks of color within your pretty eyes, notice the way your lips quirked up with a sweet smile. Even whilst teasing him, you made sure that you weren’t overstepping any bounds, giving him ample time to step away if need be.
“Oh,” you said, feigning confusion. Your hand rested upon his clavicle, nails lightly dragging down his neck. A sharp thrill struck down Miguel’s spine at the sensation. You were barely touching him, for God’s sake! “So you wouldn’t mind if I… go ask Ben out for dinner?”
A beat of silence. Miguel’s brows knitted together.
The next words were susurrated as you dipped forward to nudge your nose along his neck, pressing a cold whisper of a kiss along the underside of his jaw. “Or if I… I don’t know… if I invite him to stay at my place for the night?” 
Of course, there was no real weight to your words. Ben was simply a good friend, but damn if you didn’t enjoy the way Miguel’s eyes twitched.
Finally snapping, a low growl rumbled within his chest, his hands shooting out to grab your waist. You were cold to the touch, the ice to his fire, as his fingers curled over your back, shoving you up against the wall behind his desk. As if on instinct, your hands came to clutch at his broad shoulders.
You smiled, wide and triumphant. You’d finally broke him. 
“I’m going to kiss you now,” he gruffed, staring deep into your eyes to make sure you were alright with this. The last thing he wanted to do was make you uncomfortable. From your gleeful expression, Miguel could see that you were just the opposite. 
“Oka—mmph!” 
His lips slanted over yours, warm and rough, yet cold and soft at the same time. It was a kiss of starkly juxtaposing contrasts, heavy with months and months of unspoken yearning. His large nose brushed against your cheek, angling his face to kiss you harder—deeper. 
When one of your hands slithered up the back of his neck to tug at the roots of his dark hair, he sighed against your mouth, breaking the kiss to lean his forehead over yours.
“He was right,” said Miguel.
“Who was?”
“Peter. I do have feelings for you.”
You kissed the corner of his mouth, nudging your nose against his sharp cheekbone. “Really? I would’ve never guessed.” He surged forward to kiss you again, relishing in the way you just about melted into his touch. “If it wasn’t obvious already, I really like you, too.”
At your admission, Miguel beamed, loose and hesitant. “You still planning on asking Ben out to dinner and having him stay over at your place, then?”
You tapped a finger onto your chin, pretending to have a good, long think about it. “Give me a good reason to stay, and I won’t.” At Miguel’s slightly crestfallen expression, you patted his cheek, quick to say, “God, Miguel, I was just kidding. Ben and I are good friends. You and I, however… I wouldn’t exactly call you a friend—”
His lips met yours again, stealing the rest of your words from you. 
When you smiled into the kiss, he smiled back. It was a bit too early for love, sure, but Miguel already knew he was in too deep to back out.
He was falling in love with you. 
The thought terrified him to no end, but he merely kissed you harder, and clutched you all the closer to him.
12K notes · View notes
shotmrmiller · 5 months
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I'm your only situationship.
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A/N : yall i stayed up til 324 am writing this. I felt like if i went to bed still only having it as a thought and not on 'paper' thats unacceptable. If i gotta think about this then so do yall! it was also supposed to be a small one shot but it got wildly out of hand im not sorry.
18+ MDNI
TW: typical smut, EXPLICIT mmkay im talkin clutch ur pearls explicit.
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
Simon had finally come home from a grueling 6-month mission. All he wanted was some Kentucky bourbon with you at your favorite seedy bar. 
Once he was home, Simon cleaned up, put on a black clinical mask, and sent a text to you to meet him there. As he finished his first glass of the night, a rather attractive young woman approached him, asking if she could buy him a drink. 
“Isn’t it supposed to be the other way around, lovie?”
“Not at all. This is after all the 21st century. I’m simply asking— wouldn’t want any missus at home getting upset.”
“There’s no one at home for me, lass.”
“Well then, how about you get yourself another glass, my treat, and we’ll see where this night takes us?” 
He slightly nodded —he’d never say no to a free drink— and as she left to order a drink, he took his phone out to text you again.
“C’mon, pet. I’ll cover the tab. Too good f’me, now?”
His phone vibrated a minute later.
“I can’t today, Si.”
“Why not? I know you don’t go out on Sundays.”
As the young woman came back, drinks in hand, he lifted the screen to read your response.
“I’ve got a dick appointment~ It’s been a year and then some and I’m gonna claw at my walls if I don’t get a fix ASAP.”
Simon goes tense— soft blues hardening to a silver and he’s gripping his phone so hard it might crack. He pulls up your contact and calls you within seconds.
“Hiya, Si!” 
“What the fuck is a dick appointment?”
“Oh,” you giggle. “I forget you older folk don’t know ‘bout that. It’s just a one-night fling. No commitments or nothin'.’ Exactly what I need right now.” You don’t tell him that the reason you’ve practically regrown your hymen is that when you’re best friends with Simon, every other male in existence pales in comparison. 
“Anyway Si-, he’s getting here in like an hour-”
“No.” And hangs up. 
The young woman who’s casually rubbing his bicep and shoulder gets practically flung off of him, as he gets up off the bar stool so fast it’s falling back with a loud clang, and he’s yanking his leather jacket on and pulling on his leather gloves so hard they’re about to become fingerless—
“Hey! I thought you didn’t have a girlfriend?!”
One gloved hand gripping the front door, he turns his head slightly to her and says, “Pet, with how good I’m gonna fuck her, she won’t even have to ask to know she’s mine.”
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
You’re standing in the bathroom with your liquid eyeliner in one hand and phone in the other, staring at the ended call screen. ‘Weird,’ you think, then shrug and put the phone down. ‘Maybe the call got dropped.’
You finally complete the look with your false lashes when there’s a very hard knock on your door. You frown as you look at your phone screen. ‘7:14 pm’. You know the guy said at 8 and you’re in one of Simon’s big shirts he always forgets and your hair is still tied up in an oversized pink and white polka dot scrunchie— The pink leopard print booty shorts you’ve got on will suffice. 
The second time there’s a knock it’s even louder. 
“Jesus Christ, I’m coming!” 
You open the door and say, “I’m sorry I took so long, I—”
Simon flies past you, with a rough shoulder bump and you turn to look at him and he’s almost sprinting to the bedroom, slamming the door open—
“Simon, what the fuck? What’re you doin—”
“Where is he?”, he snarls.
“Who?! Are you talking about my date? He’s not getting here til 8! And why’re you slamming doors in my apartment like you pay my rent?!”
You see Simon deflate immediately at the important part of your answer and chooses to ignore the rest as he takes off his jacket and walks to your hall closet to hang it. Closing your door and locking it, you growl out,
“You need to leave. I haven’t even finished getting ready. I promise I’ll—”
“No, pet.”
“Will you quit interrupting me! Simon, I swear—”
“Pet.” 
You’re holding a scream behind your teeth, about to rip the hair out of your scalp when you see Simon take one loop of his mask off from around his ear and then the other. You gape. You’ve seen Simon without his mask— that isn’t the reason you can no longer find your voice. It’s the way he put his gloved middle finger in between his teeth and pulled it off so sensually. You can feel your cheeks and ears radiate heat from just seeing the tip of his pink tongue. Christ, you’re down horrendously.
You open your mouth to say something, anything, to distract yourself from the fact that you’re getting wet over an interaction so chaste when Simon is touching your ass, giving it a hard squeeze, before moving down to the back of your thighs and lifting you up. You startle at the movement and throw your arms around his neck out of habit, hoping he won’t drop you in the move to your bedroom.
He presses you against the wall with his hips, then grabs both of your ankles from behind his lower back and hooks the back of your knees over his forearms. Simon noses your jaw and starts grinding his clothed erection deliciously hard over the definitely wet spot on your shorts and growls out, 
“If you think,” grind “that I’m gonna allow My,” grind “Girl,”  grind—and you whimper in his ear,  “get fucked by some little cock two pump chump,” he gives a forced chuckle, “you must be daft, pet. Or maybe you’re doing it on purpose, eh? Trying to get my attention? Well, you’ve got it now. “ 
He moves his face to hover his lips over yours— you can lightly smell the bourbon he drank earlier— and he whispers, “You ever like this and I’m around, you come to me. And if I’m away, you wait for me like a good girl and when I come back I’ll give this,” he taps your pussy over your shorts, “greedy little cunt all the cock it can take.”
With a shaky breath, you nod before he kisses you, his bourbon-flavored tongue curling against yours, and you’re moaning into it because you’ve wanted this for too long and he’s finally touching you. Curling your fingers into his ash-brown hair, you move your mouth to his neck, to the right of his adam’s apple, took a bit of skin between your teeth and sucked. 
Simon hisses, dips his fingertips into your flesh hard enough to bruise, and all but yanks you off the wall to toss you onto your bed. 
You yelp as you bounce from the force of his throw— you’re still bouncing on the bed when Simon grabs the waistband of your shorts and knickers to pull right off, which you’re grateful for because the grey knickers you got on aren’t what anyone would wear for a first, second nor third impression.
Simon grabs both of the back of your knees with one hand,  goddamn bear paws, you think, before you feel his tongue in between your lips— so warm and wet and fuck, you needed this, needed him— and he flicks his tongue up and down on your clit. He sticks his long middle finger into you and it goes in without resistance, you’re slippery, drooling over his wrist and finger that’s curled up into the rough patch of nerves against your gummy walls, that he’s pressing into, over and over. God you’re about to come, your legs shake in his one-handed hold and you’ve got a white knuckle grip on the forearm you’re sinking your nails into—
Simon pulls away. You were so close, your eyes start watering because he can’t possibly be this mean to you but then you see him shove his tongue in between his middle and ring finger, eating up your nectar when he says, “The first time I’m gonna make you come, it’ll be on my cock. I want to see the frothy white cream you're gonna leave at the base.” 
You’re nodding hysterically at this point, anything for him to make you come, anything for him.  With a twirl of his index, he’s telling you to get on all fours. Scrambling, you turn over and arch your back— resting your head on your forearms— and you feel his calloused palms run down from your spine to your ass cheeks before he gives it a spank. 
“You have a condom?” 
You shake your head and you mewl out, “No, but I’m clean.”
“Good. I don’t want anything between us.”
You arch your back further, pressing your ass further into his hips when you hear his belt buckle clank and zipper open. Simon brings his palm to your other cheek, reddening it. 
“Fuckin’ hell, pet. Look at you spread out for me.” 
You feel warm velvet over steel over your slit before he slowly pushes inside, not all the way but about a little over half of his length, remembering that your g-spot is a little closer to the front. Fast, relatively shallow thrusts hitting your spot with almost clinical precision have you reeling, your orgasm about to break you, mind and body. Hands tightening painfully, you shatter— loud, high-pitched whines, ringing in your ears and pussy pulsing around Simon’s thick girth— and god, Simon doesn’t stop thrusting. He keeps the same smooth rhythm and you’d think he’s unaffected by the tight vice your pussy has him in— but you hear him, low, deep groans and a tighter grip on your hips telling you otherwise. 
He pulls out to bend over your back, completely covering it, and he murmurs in your ear, “I hope you didn’t think we were done. My girl wanted a fuckin’, now she’s gonna get it.” 
He takes off your pink, silly scrunchy and you see it around his tattooed wrist before he grabs your hair into a makeshift ponytail and is leaning back up and forcing your back to arch under his pull. You feel his leg at the height of your hips— propped up, foot flat on the bed and knee bent and the other straight on the floor and all you can think of is how this man is gonna kill you with his cock. 
Simon snaps his hips forward, fist full of hair pulling back,  stretching and filling in one strong thrust, bottoming out. He gives you no reprieve, no time to get used to how fucking deep he is, and sets an intense, firm pace that has you feeling a pinch below the navel every time his hip bones slap against your ass, balls to the clit and you love it. Every pinch in your lower belly has your pussy making a squelching sound and you can’t help yourself— you reach underneath your body to feel how split open you are with two fingers, encasing his cock and feeling the skin drag with them as he pulls out.
That has him hissing air between his teeth, he’s about to come but doesn't want it to be over so he pulls out, and opens your cheeks to spit in your furled hole, before pressing in with the pad of his thumb, and you’re almost screaming. He moves back a bit further to spit in your pussy, not that you need it— you’re drenching the sheets underneath you— and now he’s spearing you with his tongue before curling it, getting your juices pooled on it before coming back up, lips smacking, and he grabs your hair in his ponytail and now he uses his other hand to curls his fingers and palm over the front of your throat and that's all it takes for your vision to darken and arms go limp but he’s again, fucking you through your orgasm and this time you leave a creamy white ring at the base of his length. 
“Oh, fuckin hell.” He groans out and it sounds desperate and you know he’s close.
“Come in me, Simon. Please fill me up, I promise I’ll keep it all in.”
He gives a strained chuckle and says, “Pet, I can barely pull out of a driveway much less this tight little cunt.” He squeezes your throat hard, strands of hair popping out of your scalp and his cock feels massive, the pinch in your stomach feels like a cramp from how deep he is and he lets out a low drawn out moan that lasts 3 thrusts— and then there’s warmth filling you up, so much so it leaks from the sides of where you two are connected. Simon lets go of your hair and you fall face-first onto the bed, exhausted. Defeated. Back properly broken. You officially know what it’s like to get fucked within an inch of your life and you love it. 
He pulls out slowly, with a hiss from both of you and with one hand on your left cheek, he spreads you to look at your stuffed hole.
“Fuck. I love seeing me drip out of you.” 
You’re about to tell him to sod off when the doorbell rings and the both of you stiffen and lock eyes. With a mean snarl, Simon grabs a towel from your bathroom and his mask before stomping his way to answer the door, pink obnoxious scrunchy still on his wrist.
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
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ssahotchnerr · 2 months
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👉🏼👈🏼 is it ok to request a fic where jack starts trying to take care of the reader the way he sees his dad does? like maybe hotch is away from a case and reader gets sick or sad or idk, so jack takes it upon himself to be there for reader? like maybe he even starts referring reader with the same pet name hotch calls her? tysm!
like dad does
aw 🥹 cw; fem!reader, established relationship, mentions of sickness, fluff <3
you awoke with a gentle start; a trail of cold water trickling down the side of your face, pooling vaguely in your ear.
likewise, a more concrete sensation was set on your forehead - a cold compress. most likely a washcloth, and one that hadn't been wrung out too much at that.
but it was relieving, a delightful contrast from your burning forehead.
"oops," a small mumble came directly from your left ear, as well as a soft exhale of a breath. "sorry."
"jack?" you muttered, rather drowsily. you forced your eyes open, finding jack's sweet, concerned face beside you. "what're you doing?"
"i'm taking care of you." he explained softly, his tone so nonchalant as if it were the most obvious and simplest thing in the world. he reached forward, adjusting the top of the blanket that was draped overtop you. "like dad does. he put the washcloth on you yesterday, you 'member?"
he was right; you were on day two, maybe three? of a nasty bout of the flu. quite honestly you didn't know what day it was, they all blurred together, and your scattered sleep schedule didn't help. you offered him a nod.
"thank you." you gave him a small, closed mouth smile. if it weren't for the germs, you'd reach out to touch his cheek. you sat up a bit from your position in bed, your voice hoarse. "where is your dad?"
"a meeting."
your eyebrows furrowed, the facial movement burning your sinuses. "he's home?"
jack nodded, "he's in his office, but he said it might take a long time. so that's why i'm helping you feel better."
his face brightened a bit, as if a realization struck him. he reached into his pant's pocket, retrieving a few cough drops he had shoved in there, dropping them onto your blanket covered chest.
"i'm sorry i can't make you soup." jack apologized, solemnly as his shoulders dropped. "but i'm not allowed to use the stove."
your face softened, the weak smile resurfacing. "that's okay bud, don't worry. you can help dad make some later when he's done, how 'bout that?"
he nodded enthusiastically, before hoisting himself onto your bed.
"hey no no no, i wouldn't," you protested gently, your heart also melting at his action. "i don't want you getting my germs."
"if i get sick i get sick." that's the same thing aaron had said, multiple times, when he insisted on getting into bed with you earlier. jack scooted somewhat close, staying mainly on his father's side of the bed.
"and if i get sick, i don't need to go to school."
you laughed softly, but finding yourself too weak to argue, you did the only thing you could - go right back to sleep.
it was restless; you were in and out of slumber, and could roughly process jack getting up here and there - solely due to the distant sensation of the washcloth leaving and returning to your forehead, dampened once more.
and once aaron's meeting had ceased, he went in to check on you, and was pleasantly surprised, and touched, to see jack accompanying you.
you were out, with jack diligently watching over, while also keeping himself busy - his sketchbook and colored pencils were scattered amongst the bed.
"how's it going?" aaron asked him from the doorway, the door producing a sharp creak as he pushed it forward a tad.
"good. i brought cough drops, the washcloth, and made sure she got lots of rest. just like you did." jack continued to draw as he spoke, before his head shot right up. "can we make soup?"
"sure buddy," aaron nodded, a tinge of pride pulling at his heart. he tilted his head towards the hallway, and jack immediately scrambled off the bed. "c'mon."
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lipringlrh · 19 days
Text
HE DOESN’T WANT ME WHEN HE’S SOBER.
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summary: lando’s your best friend but seems to like you when he’s drunk. but then again, he seems to like everyone when he’s drunk.
pairing: lando norris x gn!reader
wc: 1.5k
The music was too loud but Lando was so close that he didn’t need to alter his volume - he was talking at the perfect volume that only you could hear him. Each sentence was getting lower, deeper and quieter, but your own mind made him louder, filling up every space in it with replays of him. He was engrossing. He was all you could think about.
He almost dropped the cup in his hand as he took the final step closer, not that the cup would've mattered to him, his only concern would’ve been making sure you stay dry. Still, your throat turned dry at the little distance between you both; at the prospect of what was surely about to happen.
His free hand drifted to your jaw, holding it so delicately and manoeuvring your face gently to face up at him at the perfect angle for him to kiss you. When it was just right, and he could no longer remove his eyes from your lips, not even for a second, his hand moved to the back of your head, holding you in place.
He leaned down, oozing out confidence despite the absolute fear inside of him, and rested his forehead against yours. You had closed your eyes, expecting him to kiss you, but you opened them again when you realised he wasn’t, pulling away only slightly due to the hand on your head preventing it further.
“Lan,” you breathed, your tone showing everything that you weren’t saying, “What are you waiting for?”
His eyes were closed and he was breathing heavily like resisting kissing you was the hardest thing that he’d ever done in his life. “I’m just making sure you want this,” he paused, opening his eyes and flicking them between your eyes and your lips, “Do you want this?”
“Yes,” you responded instantly, your desperation being evident from miles away. He held back a chuckle and instead revelled in the fact that you wanted him just as much as he wanted you. “Please, Lan.”
“So polite,” he whispered, his voice low and hoarse. He titled your head again, bringing you impossibly closer. You could feel his shirt against your chest and his breathing on your face - there was no going back and you both knew it.
He was going to kiss you, he was leaning down, too slowly for your liking but it was happening and so you weren’t complaining. You felt a ghost touch against your lips - the slightest feeling - but it was there before being harshly ripped away in an instant.
“Mate! I’m going now, congrats on the podium,” Carlos said after walking up to Lando from behind, a hand on his back, the other one shaking his hand.
“Congrats on your win, more like it,” Lando replied, a half smile on his face, trying to be as genuine as possible and not show his annoyance that his moment was ruined.
Carlos looked towards you, about to share a goodbye with you, before noticing your dazed look and shifting between you and Lando as he noticed what was happening. “Shit- sorry, man- carry on, I’ll see you later, yeah?” he said, not letting either of you reply before wandering off, towards the door.
You both stood there frozen for a while, not speaking or moving, just staring into each other's eyes, begging the other for an answer.
Quickly, Lando had given up and stood up straight, looking into his cup and swirling what was left around. “I’m getting another drink, do you want anything?”
“No,” you said, barely audible and no longer looking at him or in his general direction. If you hadn’t shook your head as you spoke, he wouldn’t have known what you said and he really didn’t want to get into an awkward cycle of asking you to repeat yourself a few times before he finally heard you.
“I’ll find you,” was all he said as he left. You watched him as he cut through the crowds to the bar and ordered a drink and a shot, downing the shot the second that he got it.
He turned around and scanned the room, briefly meeting your eyes. You could tell he was debating whether to come back or not but you didn’t know what he decided as he began to stand up, so you made the decision for him and walked away to the side of the club, hopefully weaving through the tides of people enough that it would take a while for him to find you.
You ended up in one of the back corners of the club, pushing yourself into the wall so that people could squeeze past you and so you could people watch better. You were busying yourself giving strangers names and storylines, trying to distract yourself from whatever just happened, or could’ve happened, when you almost threw yourself to the floor in shock from a sudden hand waving in front of your face.
“Don’t jump - I was just trying to get your attention. I called your name a few times,” Alex said. You turned to look at him, slouching right next to you against the wall.
“Sorry, loud music,” you replied. It wasn’t a lie, the music was loud, but you could barely hear it over your thoughts whirring anyway. You watched Alex grimace and shake his head, somehow knowing it wasn’t the music distracting you.
“I saw,” he hummed as you took in a sharp intake of breath.
“I don’t-”
“You kissed him, finally, then what happened? Why are you all alone?” he questioned, his eyes scanning the place for Lando, knowing he’s not usually the type to leave you alone in places like this. He could tell you were upset and confused, and he needed to get to the bottom of it in order to work out whether he’d need to drive his car into Lando’s during the next race or not.
“No- he almost kissed me. Again. Carlos interrupted and he left. He left, Alex. Asked if I wanted a drink and left,” you spat, a mixture of uncertainty and anger clouding your voice. Why did he leave? He started it and left knowing exactly what was happening whilst leaving you with nothing - it was unfair.
Alex sighed. He wasn’t happy with Lando but knew what he felt for you and ultimately wanted to give him the chance to tell you without any mistakes.
“Maybe talk to him about it. He might just be unsure of where you’d like it to go-”
“He called the shots, Alex, he does it whenever he’s drunk, I don’t think he gets to be the confused one,” you sighed, looking at your feet. Alex paused and tried to think of another way to give Lando another chance to tell you how he feels without ruining it.
“Maybe talk to him when he’s sober. He’ll-”
“He doesn’t want me when he’s sober,” you whispered but wanted to scream. It hurt you to say it but you felt like it was true. Alex felt his breath hitch and his heart ache to scream at you that Lando does want you.
“That’s not right. Who wouldn’t want you?” he could see how it was affecting you and wanted nothing more than to make you feel better, but his train of thought was abandoned when he saw your body recoil into the wall in disgust.
He followed your eyeline to find Lando towards the middle of the room, kissing some girl that you had never seen before. He was leaning into her as if he’d die if he let go, and his hand was on the same place on the back of her head as it was on yours.
“Oh,” Alex said, not really knowing what else he could do. He was furious and wanted to mortify Lando in front of everyone in the room.
“Yeah, oh,” you repeated sarcastically. Your knees felt weak and your eyes were on the brink of bursting - it was impossible to hide if you tried. “I’m going to go home,” was all you could get out, your voice choking on every word.
You tried to convince yourself that you weren’t upset and rather you were disgusted but you couldn’t after the image of Lando sucking some other girl's face was plastered in your mind and you shed tears the whole way home. Lando didn’t know - in your mind he didn’t even care but as you were crying to Alex and Lily in an uber, he was looking for you everywhere. But as it hit him, the guilt and weight of what he’d done, and the realisation that you must’ve seen, he prayed that you’d let him explain, like he did every time this happened, whilst you would tell yourself, again, that you meant it this time; that he was too late.
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chuluoyi · 6 months
Text
✎ treasure
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- gojo satoru x reader
the strongest sorcerer meets his match in his petulant son, who inherits his six eyes and is having trouble with them
genre: taking care of your son with dad!gojo, fluff/comfort
note: AAAA i love this waaay too much!😭 this brilliant idea gave me baby fever so bad came from an anon who so energetically dropped by my askbox, thank you! and seeing this artwork by Yoon in twitter definitely gave me more ideas too!
a part of gojo's love entries
series masterlist | oneshot masterlist
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"No!"
"Why? This helps—"
"That's ugly! I don't want to look ugly—like you!"
Satoru blinked in utter disbelief, and you broke into the most satisfying fits of laughter. In front of him, standing tall and sullen and very much like him was his own son, now barely five years old.
Your boy mentioned that he had been experiencing discomfort in his eyes lately, which also caused him to become dizzy. And Satoru attempted to persuade him to use a blindfold like he did because it was effective.
However, as we can see, his son didn't take his suggestion well at all. His bright blue eyes, ones your husband passed down, bore an intense glare aimed squarely at him.
"I..." Satoru sputtered, his eyes twitching. The sight was comical as no one had ever managed to elicit such a reaction from him. And no one ever considered him an unattractive person too! "I'm not—"
"You are!"
Once again, you let out a triumphant cackle, and this time your husband shot you a glare. But you didn't care. All those years of tolerating his antics had paid off. His son had finally put him in his place!
When he was a baby, you thought your son was Gojo Satoru incarnate. He was the spitting image of him—with all gaits and expressions too. And you had worried if he would turn out to be just as much of a menace as he was.
But apparently, life has other sweet plans because like you, he was a relatively calm boy, diligent, and didn't like to make a fuss. Satoru argued that it was definitely in his genes—claiming he had also been a sweetheart when he was a child, but you couldn't quite imagine him being remotely as reserved as your son.
That aside, the cause of this hilarious exchange did actually make you worry a bit.
"Look, I know it probably looks odd," Satoru gestured at the blindfold in his hand, but your little boy still didn't seem convinced by the pout he displayed. "But it will help you, I promise. If only you would—"
Oh, but it was almost like karma because besides his appearance, the other trait your son inherited from your husband was his strong sense of winning.
His face reddened from sheer indignation, and he once again screamed, "I don't want to! I'll just cover my eyes with—" he took a nearby napkin and pulled them over his eyes, "—this!"
Satoru sighed in annoyance, and you decided to jump in. Crouching down next to him, you gently pried the napkin from his hand.
"Papa just wants to help you, okay?" you reasoned, cupping his plump cheeks. Gods, he used to be this round thing in your and Satoru's arms and now he was already this big. "He uses it everyday and he has no problems, see?"
"But it doesn't look good..." Your son drooped his head in disappointment, and you could feel Satoru rolling his eyes beside you, evidently miffed at the thought of him being less than good-looking.
Parenting is challenging, especially when your husband still holds onto some of his childlike tendencies. So you decided to end the discussion here.
It was later at noon, while you were in the kitchen preparing lunch when you heard your son's scream and something crashing. Your heart was in your throat as you rushed to the backyard, only to see something that made your heart lurch even more.
Your sweet boy was wailing on the ground, clutching his head, and Satoru—
His expression was as horrified as yours if not more, as he ran and caught your son in his arms, pressing him tightly against his chest as if shielding him from the sun altogether. "Shit. Hey, hey—buddy, you okay?”
Satoru lifted him up and carried him inside. You were right beside him as he settled on the sofa, gently hushing your son, who was still shaking and had his eyes covered against his chest.
"M-My head..." your son whimpered, tears streaming down his chubby cheeks. "...h-hurts..."
"It's okay, it's okay..." he murmured, caressing the child's hair in a soothing manner, and it reminded you so much of what he would do to you in the early mornings. "I've got you now, nothing’s going to happen to you. Hang on a little longer, yeah?"
You felt warm tears threatening to well up in your eyes at the sight. It was heart-wrenching to see your son in such torment, and the way your husband was consoling him deeply touched you. It served as a poignant reminder of just how many years had passed from when Gojo Satoru was still that brat who used to mess with you during high school.
Soon, your little boy's breathing became even, and he went to sleep in Satoru's comforting embrace.
You looked at him while biting your lip, undiluted worry in your voice. "What should we do? He's been experiencing pain often lately..."
Satoru really wanted to wipe that expression from your face, but with his precious child clinging onto him for dear life, even he didn't have the heart to.
"Don't worry, I'll be with him," he assured, a plan already forming in his mind. "If he hates blindfolds that much, then I'll get him some pairs of glasses just like the ones I have—for kids. We'll start with that."
Bearing the weight of his clan's revered eyes was a heavy burden, and honestly, he would prefer it if none of his children had to inherit them. After all, he went through it all too as a child—the manifestation of the six eyes' powers marks the beginning of life as a sorcerer. The perilous world he was still trying to keep away from his son.
Nonetheless, he would be there for him every step of the way. It was what he vowed to himself on the day he was born. He wouldn’t let anything befall him—or you.
You had calmed down after hearing his plan, and as you gazed at your precious boy’s innocent face in his protective grip and the gentle pats he gave him, you suddenly found yourself in a mischievous mood once again.
"Heh, quite the doting papa, aren't you, Satoru?" you winked, a teasing smile on your face. You could have sworn his cheeks slightly flushed as he retorted:
"Hmph. He is my personal little body warmer, after all."
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lisired · 2 months
Text
wish i never
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pairing: Jaehyun x (f) reader
genre/warnings: smut, angst, debatable morals, unprotected sex, brother’s worst enemy, forbidden love, mark’s dad is a cop for the sake of plot, mentions of drugs and drug-related death
summary: Your brother, Johnny, hates Jaehyun and has never told you why. Although you intend on leaving it alone, unforeseen events thrust you into a forbidden love affair with Jaehyun. In between hookups and stolen kisses, you have to bury your feelings for Jaehyun around your overprotective older brother.
word count: 27.2k (listen… i don’t know anymore okay)
a/n: this one lowkey kinda hit different for me cause i’ve had a forbidden love and it broke me. you can kinda tell by how long this is lol ya girl went all OUT. as always, feedback is appreciated!
“Absolutely not.”
“Dude, come on,” Mark whined. 
“Hell the fuck no,” Yuta barked firmly, crossing his arms. “The last time we gave you shrooms, you texted Johnny to ask him where your phone was.”
“And?”
“You texted him from your own phone,” Yuta deadpanned. 
You snickered. Your best friend and drugs were an infamously egregious combination. Mark Lee sober was already full of shit, but Mark Lee high on whatever substance he could get his hands on? Indescribably bad. You couldn’t think of a word to even explain it.
Mark gestured over to you. “But you gave her drugs.”
Yuta grimaced. “First of all, don’t say that too loud. Johnny will kill me. Second of all, she can actually handle her shit and what can I say? She's a loyal customer.”
You added, “Plus I’m not doing fucking shrooms. Yuta just deals me weed. If Johnny ever found out I was doing anything else, he would have a fit.”
Mark huffed something under his breath about how shrooms were the softest of soft drugs there were, not that it would’ve helped his case. 
Your lips curled into a grin as you joked, “Why don’t you just chug Jeno’s notorious punch and call it a night? That’s what I’m gonna do.” 
“I’ve actually got plans with a chick who’s been dying to chug my notorious punch. I’ll be back later. Save me a drink, dude,” Mark said, grinning from ear to ear at a text message on his screen. Probably from the aforementioned chick that was begging to blow him, or so he said. 
You pretended to wince, but gave him a high five in celebration. “Aye, aye, captain,” you chirped, saluting him. 
After Mark made a break for the stairs, you abandoned Yuta to make a beeline for the drink bar. There was no such thing as a party with some of your boys without drugs and alcohol. Your brother was an overprotective nuisance, but even he knew it was impossible to keep you away from your shots and the occasional marijuana.
Plus it would've been hypocritical as all hell, so he let it slide. Not that you wanted to press your luck with something harder. On some nights you were a little drunk and a little high, and it brought out the worst in you. You were certain all of Johnny's friends kept blackmail worthy videos of you doing the unspeakable and you were content with never knowing what all those fuckers had on you. The embarrassment would be enough to kill.
You clocked one girl dry-heaving in the corner on the way and it was all the discouragement required to make you reach for a can of beer instead. To your surprise, it seemed like somebody had a similar plan, their hand coincidentally dropping on the same one. 
"Oh, I'm sorry. You can have it…," you trailed, glancing up to make eye contact with nobody less than the devil incarnate.
Ricky looked surprised to see you, though you weren’t sure why. If Jeno was throwing a party, you were bound to be in attendance. “What up, baby? Long time no see.”
“Ricky, you lost the right to call me that the second I caught you with your pants to your ankles in a closet with what's-her-face.”
More importantly, you were frankly surprised to see him there. Your stupid ex was many things, none good, and his audacity? It was out of control. Part of you wanted to commend him, because it took guts to show his face around your side of town after you yanked his trousers down in front of everyone and their mother. 
And yet he took that retort in stride. “Baby, how many times do I have to tell you that I’m sorry? It was a mistake and I’ll never make it again.”
“You’re absolutely right,” you replied, bobbing your head in agreement. “You’re a sorry motherfucker and you’ll never make it again, because we’re done for good.”
But Ricky just couldn’t take the hint that you were so fucking over anything that had to do with him and crept closer, continuing darkly, “Don’t you know you’re nothing without me? Nothing!”
Having surrounded yourself with enough drunk and high people countless times, it was obvious that Ricky was under the influence, which made him extremely capricious. He looked a grand total of two seconds away from reaching out and seizing you by your arm. 
Your eyes darted across the room for anybody you knew, but it was difficult when dancing bodies obscured them from your field of view. Yuta had probably wandered to snag more drug deals, Mark was getting his dick wet, and Johnny and Taeyong were nowhere to be found. 
You were about to resign yourself to the fact that you were positively out of luck until you heard a deep baritone ask from beside you, “Do we have a problem over here?”
It took all of two seconds to recognize its owner. Jeong Jaehyun, sang the little chorus in your head. Your brother’s worst enemy. The beef seemed more than a little one-sided, but you didn’t ask questions. For whatever reason, the mere mention of Jaehyun’s name made your brother tense. 
It was clear that Ricky was sizing Jaehyun up and he snapped with potent venom, “Who the fuck are you?”
“The host’s cousin,” Jaehyun said, looking tall and foreboding, as if he was daring somebody to challenge him. “And you are?”
“The love of her life.”
You didn’t know how he could confidently lie like that, though you wouldn’t be surprised if he wholeheartedly believed it, which was downright terrifying. You learned the hard way that this boy was as self-centered as they came. 
Jaehyun took one look at you, and the glaringly obvious discomfort on your face, and replied, "Yeah, I don't think she wants to be around you. If I were you, I'd get the fuck out of here and never come back."
Ricky chuckled. "And if I don't?"
Jaehyun shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. "Fuck around and find out," was all he said. His lips were drawn into a line and his gaze was fixed to your ex's idiotic face with a lethal stare. Not to mention Jaehyun had a couple of inches on him, which made you resist a satisfied little grin.
Obviously, Ricky wanted to stay and claim you as his pretty property, but even the lack of inhibitions didn’t hinder his judgment at that moment. Like any wise person would, he made a beeline for the closest exit. It was common sense that Jeno and his associates were not to be fucked with. 
Your shoulders relaxed when Ricky was gone. If anything, he had gotten off easy. He was lucky that you had no clue where Johnny was. You were positive he would’ve knocked the sense out of him, if he had any, which was debatable. 
“Insufferable prick,” you grumbled under your breath. Then, you glanced up to Jaehyun, who, to your surprise, was already looking at you. “Thanks, Jaehyun. I don’t know what he would’ve done if you weren’t here.”
Jaehyun still looked a little pissed, but your words seemed to make him soften. “You don’t have to thank me for that. It’s basic human decency.”
“And some people don’t even have that,” you replied, intending for it to be a joke, but it came out a little more melancholy. 
If Jaehyun noticed, he said nothing about it.
Before he could even if he wanted to, something stitched your brows together and you mentioned, “Hey, I didn’t know Jeno was your cousin.”
“Me, neither.”
It took a second for that to settle in, but once you finally understood, amusement broke the confusion tensing your face and your lips parted in laughter. Jaehyun joined you. His bold-faced little white lie saved your ass, but ironically, that wasn’t what you were focused on. 
It was those deep, adorable dimples on both of his cheeks that somehow made him even more handsome. 
Instantly, something in you chided, Bitch, don’t check him out. He’s your brother’s worst enemy. You’re out of your goddamn mind if you think you’re getting laid tonight just because he’s playing nice.
“I should go,” you said after a minute, finally grabbing a beer. “Thanks again. I really appreciate it.”
You escaped before Jaehyun could tell you not to thank him. His eyes were fixed to your back, following you until you were obscured completely by partygoers. He knew you were Johnny’s sister, but damn, you were kinda cute. 
At least for now, Jaehyun wouldn’t play with fire. Johnny almost kicked his ass one time and he wasn’t exactly keen on getting his ass handed to him. 
You were half tempted to stop by Jeno’s room to check if any of the guys were passing a blunt around in there, but the last time your curiosity got the better of you, you accidentally walked in on Jeno shirtless with some half-naked girl. Not a sight you wanted to relive, so you kept downstairs. 
Your eyes scanned the living room for any familiar faces, but it was difficult to tell if anybody was there. There was a gigantic crowd dancing to Kiss Me Thru The Phone and you chuckled at a certain memory of Mark drunk-singing along to the lyrics. 
“There you are,” came a familiar voice beside you. Your gaze flitted to Johnny, whose face was stitched with concern. “Taeyong told me that he saw you with Jaehyun. You good?”
“I’m fine,” you hollered over the music. “Just heartbroken that Mark abandoned me to get laid.”
Any other time, Johnny would’ve laughed, but his lips were pressed into a solid line. “Have you had anything?”
You rolled your eyes and exhaled a breath. “Just the beer in my hand, Johnny.”
He studied your face, as if he was attempting to figure out whether or not you were telling the truth, but ultimately decided to believe you. “Listen, I just wanna look out for you. You’re my little sister. If anything were to happen to you...”
“Mom and Dad would kill you and dump your body in the woods for bears to find. Yes, I know,” you groaned exasperatedly, cutting him off. “I get it, Johnny. But I need you to get that I’m not a little girl anymore.”
“If you were a little girl, you wouldn’t be here and we wouldn’t give you weed.”
That comment wasn’t even worth a roll of your eyes. You took a sip of beer and ignored it. 
“Why were you around Jaehyun anyways?” Johnny asked. It was obviously the question he was itching to ask. Probably wanted to make sure Jaehyun wasn’t making any advances. 
The memory of your bastard ex getting uncomfortably close to you after reaching for a drink he clearly didn’t need, raising his voice at you in a way no woman should ever accept, made you shudder. “Ricky decided to try and win me back. If you can even call it that.”
Johnny immediately perked up in anger. “What?”
“Relax. Jaehyun already took care of him. That’s why he was there. Nothing more, nothing less.”
“I swear to god, I’m gonna kill that son of a bitch,” Johnny hissed, looking a total of five seconds away from giving someone a piece of his mind. 
“Ricky, or Jaehyun?”
“Does it matter?”
You shrugged. Your lips parted to ask why he hated Jaehyun in the first place, but you cut yourself off. There was a reason why you didn’t ask him months ago. Johnny might’ve been overprotective, but that was because he was your brother and he loved you. When he was ready, he would tell you. 
The night dragged on. This one was a little more boring than usual, but that could’ve been chalked up to you still being shaken up about your encounter with your ex. You almost considered what would’ve happened had Jaehyun not been around to intervene, but your mind dared not wander there. 
Part of you wanted to know where he was camping out at. Surely, he had to be around here somewhere, but you weren’t going to look. Especially not with Johnny on high alert. He was being extra careful, wanting to be there in case your ex was crazy enough to return.
You listed what you knew about Jeong Jaehyun. For one, he was fine as hell. That was undeniable. Secondly, he was lowkey, which was why you essentially knew nothing about him other than the fact that he was drop-dead gorgeous. 
Sure, he made an appearance at these parties every now and then, but most of the time he kept to a tight-knit circle of friends and if they weren’t there, there was no way in hell he was coming. Sometimes his roommates’ threw parties at their house, but he rarely went downstairs, preferring to linger in his room doing fuck knows what. 
You honestly couldn’t blame him. People sucked. Most of them, anyways. 
Only one day later, you were gripping an overlook, peering down at little critters splashing in the lake from the bridge above. For a long time, there was nobody there to join you other than your little nonhuman friends. You liked coming here every now and then to clear your head. It was your safe place, your happy place. 
The sky was cloudy but there was only a nine percent chance of rain this afternoon, thus you weren’t too worried. You needed to go somewhere. Home was too isolating, but everywhere else was too open. 
You could be happy here. There were no entitled assholes or overprotective brothers around to get on your nerves every five seconds. It was only you and the gifts of nature. 
And somebody else. 
“I thought that was you,” said somebody from your side. 
Imagine your shock when you turned and saw Jeong Jaehyun jogging towards you. In the fucking flesh. 
It was harder not to check him out this time. The man was practically drenched head to toe in sweat, his very exposed skin glistening with moisture. The shirt he was wearing hugged his chest and it was all you could do not to salivate. 
Rather than continue to rake your eyes up his frame, you asked playfully, “Are you stalking me, Jeong Jaehyun?”
Jaehyun’s eyes twinkled with mirth. God, how come you never noticed how pretty and brown they were? “Actually, I’m surprised. I was cutting through here instead of my usual jog route. The weather looked pretty bad.”
You snickered, crossing your arms. “You didn’t check the forecast before you left the house? It’s not gonna rain. Probably.”
Jaehyun furrowed a brow. “Probably?”
“That guy on the news is an infamous liar,” you grumbled under your breath. 
Jaehyun chuckled. He wiped the sweat from his forehead, coming closer to the railing where you were, but kept a safe distance between your bodies lest he made you uncomfortable. “I told you why I’m here. What about you?”
Your nose got an instant waft of Jaehyun’s scent and it was godly, which was shocking considering he was literally sweating everywhere. “Oh, you know. I come here from time to time to think, or to not think. Depending on what the situation calls for.”
“Really?”
You bobbed your head. “Yeah. Why?”
Jaehyun shook his head. “Nothing,” was what he said, but in reality, he was thinking about how he passed this bridge nearly every goddamn day and never knew if he took a detour, he’d potentially cross paths with a pretty little thing like you. 
You lifted a brow, but didn’t press. 
“Are you… okay?” Jaehyun reluctantly asked. 
You bobbed your head. “Yup, I’m alright. It’s just that Ricky approaching me has Johnny on edge, so now whenever I go out he and his friends are watching me like a bunch of hawks.” 
Jaehyun winced. “Damn. That must suck.”
“I get he’s doing it from a place of love, but fuck, sometimes I just wanna be left the hell alone, you know?”
Jaehyun nodded. God, did he know. And not only because he was an overwhelmingly introverted dude. “Yeah, I know exactly what you mean.”
That caught your attention. “You do?”
Jaehyun scratched the back of his head. “I mean, I don’t have an overprotective brother, but I do have an overprotective mother. It’s sweet and all, but do you know what it makes you look like when you’re on a date with a girl and your mom won’t stop calling you?”
Your lips couldn’t help but curl into a grin. “Aw, you’re a Momma’s boy.”
“This is exactly what I mean,” Jaehyun groaned. 
“No, it’s… cute,” you said, but it was impossible to control the giggles falling from your lips. “Most of the guys I know like that are sweethearts. Johnny, Mark. Maybe you.”
Jaehyun found that amusing. “You think I’m a sweetheart?”
You shrugged your shoulders. “Maybe. I don’t know you well enough to decide, but seemingly, sure.”
“Do you want to?”
“Do I want to what?”
“Know me better,” Jaehyun said, tentative. Almost as if he wasn’t sure what he wanted.
That was the million dollar question. On the one hand, Jaehyun was cute and it most likely wouldn’t hurt to spend a little time together, but on the other, there was the Johnny thing. You groaned. “God, Johnny would have a heart attack if he knew I was with you right now. Maybe even an aneurysm.”
Jaehyun snickered with mischief. “Who said that he has to know?”
That response downright shocked you. You weren’t expecting it from somebody like him, though then again, you knew virtually nothing about this boy and it only made you want to sate your curiosity. “Ooh. You’re trouble, Jeong Jaehyun.”
Jaehyun took that in stride. “I’m guessing you like that.”
Taking a step closer, you started to close the gap between you that Jaehyun had created for your sake. “Hm, you know what they say.”
“I don’t think I do.” 
“It’s always the quiet ones that deal the most damage,” you whispered sultrily, glancing into his gentle brown eyes. 
Jaehyun’s eyes flickered. That caught him off-guard.
Then, you backed away and waved him goodbye. “I’ve gotta go. Later, Dimples.”
Dimples? That was new. Jaehyun was pleasantly surprised by the nickname and he was so stunned that it distracted him from his train of thoughts. 
It was only when you were long gone that he realized that you never answered his question. 
You needed time to think, to decide if Jaehyun was worth potentially losing your brother’s trust. You didn’t know why he hated him, but his less than enthusiastic reactions to him said more than enough. Jaehyun was cute, but you could easily find another cute guy whose bones your brother didn’t mention crushing.
But damn, you were curious. And curiosity killed the cat. You knew one thing, though. You were starting to like Jeong Jaehyun. 
You shook your head, ashamed of yourself. This is really what’s it’s come to, huh?
Jaehyun thought about that exchange on the bridge every now and then for the next couple of days and chastised himself for even making moves on you of all people. She’s his baby sister, you asshole. She’s off-limits. 
Not that it would really stop him, if you let him have you. 
It wasn’t like Johnny had to know. Jaehyun could keep a secret and he assumed that you had a handful of your own. People with strict upbringings tended to have a lot of practice with being sneaky and your situation was close enough. 
He sat on his bed and heaved a breath, playing with a lighter. 
Meanwhile, you were with your boys, listening to them chatter about disgusting boy things but lowkey too curious to abandon your spot on the sofa that was too comfortable for its own good. Nobody liked sleeping on sofas, but you swore you wouldn’t mind on this one. Plus sometimes you’d gotten drunk here enough where you almost dozed off. 
You made a gagging noise when Mark started to talk about his nth blowjob of the week. You weren’t counting, but he definitely was. 
“Your dick probably has so much chlamydia that it’ll mutate into a different variant like Covid,” Haechan teased. 
You grimaced, but you definitely agreed. 
“You’re one to talk,” Mark snapped. 
Haechan nodded, grinning proudly. “Of course, I am. I always wear condoms and get tested regularly. I’m clean as a whistle.”
You shook your head in amusement. “I’ve never understood the saying ‘clean as a whistle.’ Like aren’t whistles actually contaminated from being in someone’s mouth? Now, when you combine that logic with your dick…”
Jeno burst into laughter. Yuta obviously found it funny from the smile on his face and Mark would never miss a chance to laugh at his friend’s expense. 
Haechan dramatically rolled his eyes. “And what about you, little miss? How often do you get laid?”
“Definitely not as often as you guys,” you replied, coming to a stand. Not that you wanted to kiss the sofa goodbye. “I’ll be right back. I’ve gotta tinkle.”
Mark’s nose wrinkled. “You didn’t think that was too much information?”
You almost threw the remote at your best friend, but spared him. There was no way this dude was talking about too much information when he was literally giving you all a play-by-play of his sex life. 
“If it burns when you pee, Mark gave you the airborne strand of chlamydia,” Yuta joked dryly. 
You left too quickly to see Mark attempt to murder Yuta and it was a shame that you had to miss it. There was no doubt that Haechan would exaggerate the moment to make you regret not being there, but right now, you were concentrated on finding the bathroom. 
And of course, it was when you finally made it upstairs through the groups of bodies that you realized you didn’t know where it was. 
You groaned, cursing yourself for being so forgetful. You’d only been here a couple of times and never long enough to use the fucking bathroom, apparently. And you really couldn’t fucking hold it. 
You glanced around the set of doors upstairs, incapable of keeping still. Thank god nobody was here except for you. If I was a bathroom, which door would I be behind?
You set eyes on a random door and said, “Fuck it.” You marched right up to it and knocked none too gently, seeping with impatience. 
To your surprise, it was Jaehyun that opened the door, a pair of headphones slung around his neck. And behind him was a bed, not a toilet. 
Jaehyun’s eyes flickered with shock and he said your name. “What are you doing here?”
“Oh, um, I was kinda looking for the bathroom. I’m guessing this isn’t it,” you said with a little humor, which was remarkable, all things considered. “What are you doing here?”
“I live here, baby.”
“Oh.” You knew that, so the fact that it slipped your mind meant that you definitely weren’t yourself when you had to pee. 
Jaehyun had the audacity to laugh. He opened his door a little wider. “You can use mine. It’s that door over there.”
“Thank you,” you said in relief, immediately darting for the bathroom. 
You were even more relieved by the time you washed your hands and walked back into his bedroom, no longer fighting to keep still. Jaehyun was sitting on his bed where his headphones were now cast aside. God, how loud did you have to be knocking for him to hear you over those?
“You sure were in a hurry,” Jaehyun teased. 
You rolled your eyes, but a little laugh fell from your lips. You wholeheartedly blamed Jeno and his damn poisonous drinks. Sighing in relief, you glanced around Jaehyun’s room. For a boy, he was exceptionally tidy. He had vinyls organized on a shelf. “No girls in here, I see.”
Jaehyun didn’t know whether to be offended by that or not. “What do you think I am, a pimp?”
You snickered. “Nah. I’m just traumatized. Sue me.”
Jaehyun knew better than to ask questions that he didn’t want to know the answers to, so he left it alone. “You never answered my question the other day.”
“What question?” you asked. Obviously, you were playing dumb. You needed every second to think about what your response would be, although you’d had the past forty-eight hours and then some to contemplate. 
Your damn brother was the only thing that stood between you and Jaehyun. 
Johnny wasn’t around this time for obvious reasons. There was no way in hell that he’d step foot in the house of his mortal enemy. He didn’t want you to be there either, but you assured him that you’d steer clear of all things Jeong Jaehyun. 
And it wasn’t as if you had deliberately lied. It (kind of) wasn’t your fault that you didn’t know where the bathroom was. 
“If you wanted to get to know me better.”
You stepped over to his bed, sitting beside him and sighing. “Jaehyun, you know my brother won’t approve.”
“I guess that’s a ‘no’ then,” Jaehyun muttered. 
Your eyes glanced at his handsome face, then his beautiful, twinkling brown eyes, and finally his soft pink lips. And when they flitted so low, there was no looking back. You leaned in and pressed your lips to Jaehyun’s, waiting for him to kiss back, and when he did without hesitation your heart soared. 
His hands flew to your back, eyes fluttering closed. God, he tasted as good as he smelled, and it was more than a little arousing. You made him fall against his mattress, straddling his hips and kissing him even deeper.
The change was welcome. His heart was racing just from locking lips with you and it took him to the sky. He grabbed a hold of your hips, which fit snugly in his palms, and listened to the soft sighs that slipped from your mouth in between the kisses. 
Mark was probably downstairs wondering, Damn, bitch, how long does it take to piss?
You pulled back when a certain groan of his turned you on a little too much to be safe. Jaehyun was secretly disappointed, but he didn’t complain, taking time to catch his breath. “Is that a maybe?”
You giggled and shook your head. “It’s a yes.”
Jaehyun sat up and grinned. He knew what he was getting himself into, but he didn’t care. There was something about you that made him defy gravity. 
Still straddling his hips, you threaded your fingers through his hair and leaned in to whisper into his ears, “We’re playing with fire.”
“Ironically, I thought the same thing,” Jaehyun deadpanned. 
You chuckled. Well, if you didn’t care, and he didn’t care, nothing more needed to be said. You were really doing this. 
Jaehyun realized that he already really liked holding you. You were warm and soft to the touch, and you fit perfectly in his arms. “Have you been drinking?”
“Nope.”
“Did you do any drugs?”
“Not even a little,” you said, raising a brow at the question. Much to your chagrin, it reminded you of your brother’s incessant worry. “Why?”
Jaehyun said without hesitation, “Because I’ve got weed.”
That was exciting. No wonder Jaehyun never came downstairs during his roommates’ parties. The real party was in his bedroom. “Geez, Dimples. What are you waiting for?”
Jaehyun laughed at your enthusiasm and grabbed his lighter off his nightstand. You were flattered when he let you roll and even more when he praised your technique, which took years to develop. Thank god for your experienced friends. 
The high had you hyper aware of everything. Jaehyun’s whole room smelled like him, to no surprise. As he said, he lived there, fuck’s sake. But it was pleasant and you were honestly forgetting that you even promised to return downstairs.
The guilt and pressure of keeping secrets from Johnny was heavy on your back a few moments ago, but after the marijuana settled in, you relaxed into Jaehyun’s side. He didn’t seem to mind. Maybe it was the tree getting to his brain, but his hands got a little bolder, too. 
And it also only enhanced your curiosity. “Do you do this often, Jaehyun?”
“You mean invite girls into my room to talk and smoke?”
“Yeah.”
Jaehyun took a drag and exhaled into the thick air of his room. “Eh, not really. I’ve had girls in my room before, obviously, but it never really lasts.”
You weren’t surprised. Any girl could see that Jaehyun was handsome as all fucking hell and you didn’t expect him to be a total sexless loser. Matter of fact, if he told you that he was a virgin, you doubted that you’d even believe it. 
“Maybe you haven’t met the right girl then,” you suggested coyly. 
Jaehyun chuckled. “Maybe.”
It was way too soon to ask if he thought you were the right girl, so instead you settled for asking where his interests lay. “What exactly are you looking for?”
Jaehyun knew the answer to that question in perfect detail because he’d thought about it countless times, being his typical hopeless romantic self. This was a boy that dreamed of finding his miss right before he went to bed. He was a simple guy. He wanted picket fences and kids. Perhaps a puppy. 
But maybe it wasn’t all too simple. Jaehyun wasn’t searching for a housewife. He wanted someone to go to random old shops with and look at vintage items together. He wanted someone that didn’t draw a lot of attention, but liked to go outside and explore. Money be damned. Thanks to his mother, he had ample cash, but no one to spend it on. 
Jaehyun hummed, pretending to think about his answer. “Guess.”
You threw him a look. “Are you serious?”
Jaehyun bobbed his head eagerly, lips curling into a mischievous little grin. “I’ll tell you, but I want you to guess first.” 
You sighed and glanced around his bedroom for clues, and fortunately enough, there were plenty. “Vinyls from the nineties. You’re an old soul and you want someone who fits your vibe. You smell like expensive cologne, so maybe you want someone to wine and dine, but you definitely want to be comfortable.”
Jaehyun said nothing, but you could tell that he was listening. 
You looked at the pictures of him and an older woman framed on his nightstand and continued, “You want the type of girl you can take home to your mother. And your mother wants the absolute best for her son, so she raised you to have high standards.”
“You’re good at this,” Jaehyun muttered. 
“I’m nowhere close to being finished,” you said, grinning from ear to ear. “Judging from the souvenirs on your shelf, you like going to different places, so you want someone curious and adventurous in nature. Appreciative and respectful of different peoples' cultures.”
Jaehyun was only smiling at this point. It was kind of funny and spooky being read like this. 
“You’ve searched for love and haven’t found something that feels right, so now you keep girls around for a good time, not a long one. And you love a damsel in distress, I think,” you said, concluding your investigation. 
“Wow,” was all Jaehyun said. 
Though you already knew the answer, you pressed your lips into a smile and asked, “Am I warm?”
“You’re on fire,” he replied, wondering how in the hell you got all that just from looking at his bedroom. “But how did you know?”
“That you love a damsel in distress?”
“That I’ve looked for love and gave up on it.”
You almost rolled your eyes. You couldn’t believe he was seriously asking that question. “No offense, but you scream hopeless romantic. Plus you’re hot. You know your worth and what you want and I doubt it’s meaningless sex.”
Jaehyun had this melancholy look on his face for the briefest of seconds, but it disappeared so quickly you could’ve imagined it being there. 
“I don’t think you gave up, I think you took a little pause. You know she’s out there, and when the time’s right, you’ll know.” Then, you abandoned the sadness and quipped, “But you’re also a guy, and guys want sex.”
Jaehyun chuckled, but you had somehow penetrated his mind. You had part of him figured out and he didn’t know what to do with that. It was too soon to get too deep. 
You exhaled contentedly, but the marijuana had you thinking. You could’ve been wrong about Jaehyun. You had definitely been wrong before. 
There was this tension in the room now that neither of you were equipped to handle. As standard when he was fooling around with a girl, there was a piece of him that wondered if it could be the real thing this time, but he didn’t want to get ahead of himself. 
It wouldn’t have been the first time. 
Jaehyun gave you back the blunt. “What about you - what are you looking for?”
“Who said I was looking?” you asked with obvious amusement. 
That shattered Jaehyun’s former thoughts of possibly wifing you up one day. Of course you didn’t intend on dating the dude your brother hated. It would’ve been a very unconventional relationship. You could keep him around for fun, but it would have to end sooner or later. 
So Jaehyun contentedly resigned himself to the fact that you would pass, just like all the other girls he brought up to his room, and decided he was fine with that. Maybe he had high standards, but you’d forgotten to mention the part that they came with moderate hopes and low expectations.
That way getting hurt was borderline impossible. 
Then, Jaehyun started to grin like an idiot and reminded, “You said that you think I’m hot.”
“I literally said that ten hundred hours ago,” you groaned, exhaling a puff of smoke into the air. 
You cried out in shock when he grabbed your hips and pulled you back onto him again, but instinctively leaned into his shoulder. Jaehyun was (usually) humble, but anyone who thought he didn’t know he was hot was a fool. “Am I hot enough to kiss?”
Your lips tugged into a smile, and rather than directly answer his question, you went in for a kiss, holding the blunt away from his face so that he wouldn’t get burned. Jaehyun effortlessly matched your rhythm and it was dumbfounding how he could be so excellent of a kisser. 
You spent the better half of the night passing a blunt back and forth with Jaehyun, kissing and talking in between (featuring some inappropriate touches). Jaehyun was so fucking easy to talk to, the topics were boundless. Neither of you opened up much outside of your relationship goals and lack thereof, but you still got to know each other a little better. 
Jaehyun loved music from r&b to jazz to soul, though you could’ve guessed how passionate he was after one look at his vinyl collection. He was flirty sometimes, but soft-spoken and very gentleman-like and he never once proposed for the two of you to have sex. Plus he was a bit of a goofball. 
To say nothing of the fact that he could play the guitar. You didn’t know why, but that somehow made him even more delightful. 
It was pleasant to be in the presence of a guy that was simultaneously attractive and respectful.
Because it was far too late for you to drive yourself home when you finally started to get sleepy, he let you steal his bed and slept in the room of one of his roommate’s that was never home, according to Jaehyun. 
Jungkook was what he said his name was. Apparently he basically lived full-time in his girlfriend’s apartment and Jaehyun didn’t know why he still paid rent, but he didn’t complain. It was going to be a sad day for his bank account when Jungkook finally moved out. 
And that left Yugyeom. He was the one that threw all of the parties. You asked Jaehyun last night why he rarely came downstairs during those parties and his response was, “I don’t like the attention.”
Morning had come loudly as ever. Birds chirped outside, singing sweetly. You stretched your arms above your head and yawned, unable to ignore the dark curtains that effectively kept the sunlight out. 
The first thing you did was let a little light in. And the second thing was remember how you spent last night, memories of marijuana and laughter, and flirtatious behavior hitting you all at once. It seemed that Jeong Jaehyun was a promise of fun. 
Grabbing your phone, you headed down the stairs and breathed a little in relief when you saw Jaehyun already awake, waiting by the toaster. “Good morning, Dimples.”
Jaehyun turned when he heard your voice and the smile that spread across his lips was instantaneous. “Good morning, beautiful. How did you sleep?”
“I should’ve known that your bed would be as cool and collected as you are,” you quipped, rubbing your arms. It was colder without Jaehyun’s blankets to help strengthen the temperature. 
Jaehyun shook with mirth and it was a sight you wanted to see more often. 
“I could’ve slept on the sofa,” you said without complaint. “The party was over by the time we called it a night and it’s the most comfortable sofa I’ve ever put my butt on.”
“It goes against everything I believe in to let you sleep on a couch when there’s a perfectly functional bed upstairs.”
“Aw, what a gentleman,” you replied, coming to stand at his side. “I drew the curtains in your room open, by the way. I don’t know how you live like a damn vampire.”
“What’s wrong with living like a vampire? Vampires are cool.”
“I don’t think Vampires need Vitamin D. Humans do,” you retorted, arms crossed. 
Jaehyun’s lips curved into a stupid little smile that reeked of mischief and you instantly knew where his thoughts were before he even said anything. 
You rolled your eyes at his silliness and told him, “Whatever you’re about to say - don’t.”
Bagels popped out of the toaster and the sight of food made Jaehyun forget about his previous shenanigans. He set both bagels on individual plates that already had food and said, “I made you something. It’s not much because I’ve gotta go soon, but I didn’t want you to be hungry.”
“Thank you,” you said with gratitude, accepting the plate he handed to you. Plate in hand, you went to sit at the table, watching Jaehyun bring cups over. 
“You’re welcome,” Jaehyun told you gently. “Next time I’ll make you a real full-course meal as a treat.”
You gawked. “You can cook?”
“A little bit, yeah. Why?”
“You just got so much hotter,” you breathed.
Jaehyun grinned. 
The time you spent together that morning was a duplicate of the night before except there were only the lingering overnight highs instead of the fresh ones. You were sad that you had to leave, but Jaehyun had to work and you needed to go home. 
Sitting in your car, you checked your phone for the first time in hours. There had to be a thousand missed calls and unanswered messages from your friends and Johnny. Though it wasn’t unusual for your phone to be on Do Not Disturb, it was definitely strange to not at least tell your loved ones that you were very much still alive. 
You were just so hooked on Jaehyun that it completely slipped your mind to check your phone. There wasn’t a dull moment upstairs in his bedroom and even when it was silent you were comforted by the sound of a vinyl playing quietly on his record player, which you were stunned that he even had. 
You texted your friends to let them know that you were on the way home and called Johnny to get his usual tantrum out of the way before you got there, but it was safe to say that you weren’t expecting to come back to Johnny and Mark waiting for you in the kitchen like two unhappy parents. 
You reached into the cabinet to grab a glass and deadpanned, “Uh oh. Am I in trouble?”
Mark snickered and he looked like mischief. “Very much so.”
Your gaze flitted towards Johnny, who was clearly the more disgruntled of the two, and asked, “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“You look like you had a long night.”
“That’s probably because I did.”
“Did you hook up with anyone?”
You grimaced. “Gross, Johnny. Do I ask you who and what you do with your dick?”
Johnny gave you a look that told you he was serious. 
“No, I didn’t hook up,” you replied, filling your glass with water and hoping to find a way out of this situation so that you could shower and brush your teeth. 
Johnny’s lips were tugged into a frown. This older brother responsibility was far from easy when his little sister made it even harder to check up on her. “I worry about you. Is that a crime?” 
You exhaled a long breath. “You’re right. I should have at least let you know that I was okay and I didn’t, and I’m sorry. I just got… distracted.”
That got Mark’s attention and he butted in dramatically, “Where did you go last night? I was this close to filing a police report, but it hadn’t been twenty-four hours.”
Typical cop father response. That was half the reason why nobody wanted to deal him drugs. Thank goodness he had you to vouch for him. “And what would you do if I was off with a serial killer instead of some hot guy?”
“I wouldn’t be too worried. You’re annoying. They would return you on the front doorstep with a note that said ‘come get your bitch back.’”
You were tempted to roll your eyes, but you noticed Johnny laugh a little and it honestly made you feel somewhat better. He had been painfully uptight lately and you just wanted him to chill for once. 
“I’m gonna go take a shower and brush my teeth,” you announced, discarding your glass in the sink and heading for the stairs. 
Of course, Mark had more insults on deck and didn’t hesitate to ask, “You’re gonna need more than that for all the cum you had to have gargled last night.”
“For the last time, I did not hook up,” you huffed in exasperation, marching up the stairs. “And get the hell out of my house - you don’t even live here!”
You could hear Mark laughing from the overlook. 
A lot of time was spent counting down the hours until you could see Jeong Jaehyun again. You learned that he was not the type of guy to sit around waiting by his phone. This was a busy man with business to take care of and he didn’t have a lot of spare time. 
You didn’t mind, because he spent it talking to you, which was definitely an indicator that he was starting to really like you. With so few hours in a week, let alone a day, it was hard to believe he let just anyone consume the little downtime that remained. 
Jaehyun let you crash some nights at his place when your brother was being a massive thorn in your side. It wasn’t a crime, but it was easy to get away with, all things considered. Yugyeom never bothered either of you and Jungkook was rarely there, so you spent most of the time talking incessantly and getting high. 
Maybe some kisses were shared in between, but nothing more. Jaehyun was content with just getting to know you for now. His usual invitees consisted of one-night stands and girls he hung out with for a couple of weeks, but you were different. You made him think, high or not, and it was rare a girl penetrated his mind so deeply.
And so quickly. It had only been a month, maybe a little longer. He was still afraid of being completely open with you, but the way the two of you touched each other was starting to get riskier and riskier. 
Kisses lasted longer. More than once, he caught himself going after your clothes, but he didn’t want to seem like an animal. You did seem a little eager too, kissing the breath out of him and getting more and more flirtatious, but Jaehyun hated having to guess. 
He wanted you to tell him what you wanted in no uncertain terms. No room for uncertainty. 
Yugyeom knocked on Jaehyun’s bedroom door, which was already cracked ajar, and asked, “Hey, is she coming over tonight?”
“Yes, so please be on your best behavior. No bullshit,” Jaehyun replied, getting a whiff of the trouble that was Yugyeom and wrinkling his nose. 
“Have you guys… you know?”
“That’s a personal question.”
“So you haven’t.” Yugyeom pressed, “Man, when are you gonna tell her you’ve got the hots for her? You know what, I’ll clear the house and leave a bottle of wine out. Light one of your expensive candles. Girls like that shit.”
Like hell Jaehyun needed advice on how to set the mood, from Yugyeom much less. Plus he was none too pleased at being interrupted, especially because now he was thinking about having sex with you and it was doing things to him down there. “I think I know what girls like.”
“Then what’s the problem? And don’t tell me that you haven’t thought about it. We’re both dudes, man. That’s bullshit.”
“There isn’t one,” Jaehyun replied to his roommate honestly. Of course, he had thought about having sex with you. He might’ve been respectful, but like Yugyeom said, he was still a dude. Hell, the words had come out of your own mouth. 
Yugyeom prodded, “Then?”
“I just don’t wanna rush into it.”
Now that Yugyeom could buy. Jaehyun was sentimental like that. When he really liked a girl, evaluating her worth took priority over getting laid. Jaehyun had this wall of ice put up that even Yugyeom had to steadily break through. Ironically, sometimes it felt like he was still on the outside. 
But he put two and two together. If Jaehyun liked you - as in really, really liked you - then that made shit even more complicated. It was no secret that Johnny had it out for Jaehyun and he obviously came to the same conclusion that Jaehyun had; shit getting serious with you was dangerous. 
So Yugyeom left it alone. 
Like clockwork, you were pulling into Jaehyun’s driveway only a few hours later. You discerned that the lot was empty save for your car and Jaehyun’s which more than likely implied that the two of you would be completely alone in the house together. 
Slipping the spare key from under the mat, you unlocked the door and sang after locking it behind yourself, “Darling, I’m home!”
“I’m upstairs,” Jaehyun called out from the second floor, his room door obviously open for once. The benefits of having the house to himself. 
You didn’t hesitate to make your way upstairs, not failing to clock the bottle of expensive wine on the counter when you passed by the kitchen, but you thought little of it when you came through the hallway and slipped into Jaehyun’s comfortable bedroom. “Hey, Dimples,” you greeted. 
Jaehyun smiled at you and waved. His room was dimly lit. The overhead lights were turned off, but the candles on his nightstand were ablaze and there was an old school classic going on in the background. 
The second you came in, Jaehyun set his book aside, giving you his undivided attention. “Come here.”
You wasted no time doing as told, advancing towards the bed and giggling when he snatched you into his open arms for a handful of kisses. Your whole body was soothed from his slightest of touches, at ease in his arms. Jaehyun had quickly become your second safe place. 
God, you had been waiting for this moment all week. Johnny wasn’t on your ass any more than usual, but it got lonely in that house and it was even worse when you found yourself only craving Jaehyun’s company. There was something happening to you and you couldn’t tell if you liked it or not. 
Jaehyun drew back after a minute, taking a moment to breathe and brush a loose strand of hair behind your ears. “Things okay at home?”
“New topic,” you groaned. 
Jaehyun winced. That couldn’t have been too good. 
“You smell good,” you purred, breathing in his scent. 
“You always say that.”
“Because you always smell good.” 
“I just got out of the shower.”
“Without me?”
“You sound like a guy,” Jaehyun said in disapproval. 
You snickered. You had definitely gotten that comment from a boy before.
Jaehyun’s eyes were fixed to your face, taking in how beautiful you were. Damn, it was like every time he saw you, you looked even more breathtaking. 
You couldn’t help but stare back. Jaehyun’s visuals were out of this damn universe and it was borderline maddening he could be this fucking fine. But deeper than that, sometimes you couldn’t help but stare into his dark eyes and wonder what all he was hiding back there. 
It was plain as day that Jaehyun wasn’t the type to wear his heart on his sleeve, especially not when his romantic feelings were involved. In the time that you’d spent together, you had gotten to learn some things about him, but there was plenty that he filtered out as a defense mechanism. 
When you wanted to get closer, Jaehyun shut down, which was totally ironic, because he was the one that asked if you wanted to get to know him. Now you had to fight for it?
Maybe he meant get to know his body and you were oblivious - and you wouldn’t have minded one bit - but if that was the case, you should’ve already had sex and been out of the picture. Yet he was keeping you twice as long as most girls lasted and for no apparent reason.
Sex made things more complicated. If you had sex with Jaehyun right now, and it was good, there was absolutely no telling how that would shift the trajectory of your entire life. But the way he was looking at you right now tempted you to risk it all. 
Your lips found Jaehyun’s again, but the kiss was different this time. It was needier, desperate. It sent heat stretching through every bone in your body and straight between your thighs, and you felt like you were levitating. Your body scorched with desire, hands running down his chest. 
Jaehyun kept up with your reckless kissing very well, but he couldn’t ignore the nature of it and it made him ask himself questions. You were kissing him like you wanted him. Tired of wondering, he pulled back and asked forthrightly, “Do you want to have sex with me?” 
“Isn’t it obvious?” you countered, quickly seizing the opportunity to return your lips to his.
All of this beating around the bush was getting on his nerves and Jaehyun took matters into his own hands. Literally. You gasped when he pushed you onto your back, pinning you onto his bed, and locked your wrists above your head. “I want to hear you say it.”
Now that was sexy as hell and your thighs involuntarily pressed together. “I want to have sex with you.”
That was all Jaehyun needed to hear. He was quick to catch your lip in between his teeth and seal your lips in another heated kiss, taking in your every trembling exhale. You moaned into his mouth, a little too enamored with how good it felt beneath him. 
His hands released your wrists in favor of your waist, testing the waters. You were reactive to Jaehyun’s touches, hyper aware of his hands steadily falling lower, but not daring to touch you too intimately yet. Like he was waiting for something to happen. 
Jaehyun’s eyes sank to your empty neck and something deep in the pit of his gut was set on fire. “Are marks okay?”
Making quick work of his shirt and tossing it over his shoulders, you nodded your head. “Yeah. Johnny will notice, but he’ll never assume they’re from you.” 
It took absolutely nothing else for Jaehyun to connect his lips to your throat hungrily, leaving mark after mark on your skin in an effort to stake his claim to you. And all it did was turn you on further. There was a thudding between your legs, arousal spilling over. 
Little soft sighs and curses slipped from your lips and you could feel the bedroom get hotter and hotter. It wasn’t as if you and Jaehyun had agreed to be exclusive, but you hadn’t been with anyone else in the time that the two of you had been hanging out, meaning it had been over a month since you’d last had sex. 
And it fucking showed. You were aching for more, on top of your natural desire for Jaehyun. If you didn’t fuck his brains out right now you were going to self-destruct.
“Jaehyun, fuck me,” you groaned impatiently. 
Instead, he grinned, too fond of the neediness in your voice and on your pretty face. Jaehyun looked you plain in the eye and said, “I want you to beg.”
You were too gone to roll your eyes, but not too out of it to retort, “Make me.”
“I’m gonna make you beg, alright,” Jaehyun said without question. He made a move for your shorts and tugged them off your ankles, repeating the gesture with your panties. 
The only thing that kept you from being totally naked was your top but Jaehyun didn’t look too concerned with getting rid of it yet. Instead, he focused his undivided attention between your legs, entranced by your glistening core and his mouth going dry with the desire to have a taste. 
You watched the enthrallment on his face with satisfaction. Funny how his ability to conceal his emotions went out the window when pussy was involved. His eyes were dark as ever and Jaehyun’s voice somehow got deeper when he asked, “Will you let me taste you?” 
“Fuck,” you mumbled, sensing that he was about to wreck the living hell out of you. “Uh, yeah. Yes.”
No room for uncertainty. Now that he had your consent, Jaehyun gathered your legs in his hands, tossed them over his broad shoulders, and went to town. You gasped aloud at the first pass of his tongue at your clit and it couldn’t have been further from tentative. 
Of course this man went straight for your sensitive bundle of nerves instead of your slick folds, he knew better. Given how exciting the thought of Jaehyun dicking you down had been, you were already throbbing, but now you were tense and unstill.
There was something about the feeling of his lips sucking and licking at your cunt that made you squirm and cry out in an overwhelming bolt of pleasure. Jaehyun clamped his big hands onto your thighs to keep you pliant, holding them right where he wanted them, and kept eating you out. 
It made zero sense how hot you found every little thing that he did. 
“Jesus, fuck,” was basically all that you could say. With how vigorously Jaehyun was sucking at your bundle of nerves, it was getting borderline impossible to think. 
Jaehyun sure didn’t seem timid. Matter of fact, the way he refused to shy away from in between your pair of legs, doing everything in his power to keep them separated at both sides of his head, said loud and clear that he was a man on a mission to make you unravel. 
Not to mention that he was doing a damn good job. Your ears were hardly even working, the whole world fading to static, the only audible sound being the incessant throb of your pulse quickening by the minute. 
The sheer opposite was true for Jaehyun. His ears were on full alert and he could hear everything from the increasing volume and speed of your breaths plus your soft moans to the gentle rustling of the trees' leaves outside his open window. 
Jaehyun peered up at you, noticed the euphoria tensing your beautiful features, and his lips broke into a wide grin. “How are you doing up there?”
No words would come. It took twice as long to even process the ones that left his mouth. Your eyes were drooping and misty, damp with moisture, and all that escaped you was a befuddled, “Fuck.”
Jaehyun snickered. That was answer enough. “It sounds to me like you’re having a fun time,” he started. “Do you want to cum?”
You obviously heard that and hissed, “Don’t ask stupid questions.” 
“If you want to cum, then beg me for it,” Jaehyun growled darkly. You appreciated the brief lull of peace, but of fucking course, it was that moment Jaehyun chose to press a long pair of fingers into your dripping pussy.
Your back arched and your soft cries filled the air. It felt like somebody had given Jaehyun the blueprints to your body with how he excelled at satisfying you in ways literally nobody had previously. 
The answer was obvious. Jaehyun wanted you to beg? Fuck it. You would beg. 
“Please,” you said, your voice raising a few pitches. “Oh, god. Please make me cum, Jaehyun.”
Jaehyun didn’t make a sound but you could feel his mouth on your cunt again and knew that he was about to take you there.  
And then it came. The mind-numbing orgasm engulfed you in its fury and you were scarred with burns from head to toe, most of it pivoting towards your core. 
Your hands desperately grasped locks of Jaehyun’s soft fluffy hair in an attempt to anchor yourself and you didn’t release him from your clutches until every tremble faded. Jaehyun got so aroused watching you shudder with release that he swore his own mind went blank. 
It took a good minute and a half at the least for your mind to start to clear itself and you sighed pleasantly as the wrath of your orgasm slowly began to die out. You peered down at Jaehyun, blinking a couple of times, and slackened your grip when you realized how tightly your hands were latched to him.
Jaehyun didn’t seem to mind, contentedly watching you try to gather your bearings. “Are you back to earth?”
“Barely,” you rasped, still unable to feel your thighs. 
“Do you want to stop?”
You gawked. “Are you kidding? I still wanna fuck you. If you still wanna fuck me.”
“I still want to fuck you,” Jaehyun said, pulling you in for another hot but reassuring kiss. It was hard to breathe, but so worth it. You slipped your tongue into his mouth and tasted yourself on his. 
Kissing you made Jaehyun feel like he was ascending, but right now it also made his dick ascend and his patience was steadily dissipating into thin air. You could feel his hard-on against your naked thigh and it sent shock waves to your brain. 
I think that’s the best head I’ve ever had, you admitted to yourself, but not aloud. Your dating history wasn’t top secret but you spoke little of it to Jaehyun. Did it matter that all of your exes were scumbags and rarely bothered to get you off?
Except for one. The sex was good, but it wasn’t a fair trade-off for your heart. No man nor his cock was worth your sanity and you told that to yourself every time you engaged with one. 
Plus you just got this weird feeling where nothing or nobody else mattered when you and Jaehyun were alone together. You didn’t think of the various roots of the stresses in your life and calmness was finally an option. 
You didn’t want to ruin that, so you didn’t get too deep. 
But you were hoping Jaehyun was packing enough to be deep inside of you. Fuck that, you had felt it against your thigh. You knew that he was and it was exciting. 
Your voice was weighed down by the thickness of your breaths. “Do you have condoms?”
“Always,” Jaehyun replied, pulling a drawer open on his nightstand to retrieve one.
That was a relief. You had never done it raw before and though you liked Jaehyun, you weren’t sure where his dick had been and what all it had seen. You’d rather be safe.
Jaehyun gently pushed you back onto the mattress and crawled over you, drawing the condom between his teeth while he tossed your shirt and bra halfway across his bedroom, then whispered, “Tell me how you want it.”
“Hard and deep. Deep and hard,” you confessed sultrily, looking him dead in the eye. 
Jaehyun smirked. “That can be arranged.”
You watched Jaehyun shuffle out of his pants and put the condom on, but the bulk of your attention was set on that thick, girthy cock. Your mouth was watering. Maybe some other time you could suck him off, but right now getting it between your thighs was all you wanted. 
It didn’t seem as if he glanced up, but Jaehyun said, “You’re staring.”
“Sorry.”
“No, you’re not,” Jaehyun said. 
You giggled. “No, I’m not.”
The sound faded when you spread your legs apart invitingly and he penetrated you at an excruciatingly slow pace, sinking deeper inch by fucking inch. 
You and Jaehyun made a sound in harmony when he finally filled you to the hilt, grasping your waist and using it as anchor like he was at risk of going dangerously deep if he made one wrong move and never returning to the surface. 
Good thing it was only the two of you. You, keeping quiet when he was this good with his hands and presumably even better with his thick cock? There was no way in hell. 
“Oh my god…,” you whispered, obsessed with the sensation of being filled. 
Whatever you were thinking right now, Jaehyun wholeheartedly agreed. You made his brain grind to a halt and stutter. “Does that feel okay?”
“More than okay,” you told him, because it was the truth. Somehow the pleasure was only spiking. The ecstasy continued to build. 
You looked so beautiful beneath the golden-yellow hue of his lamplight and Jaehyun knew he would be fantasizing about how your face tensed with pleasure for weeks, if not months.
Jaehyun especially liked the way you were tightening around his cock, gripping it for dear life as if letting go simply wasn’t an option. You wound your legs around his hips and helped draw him into yours in spite of knowing it could ruin you, a telltale sign that your desire for more outweighed any rational thinking. 
It just felt so good that it had to be illegal and though you knew that it wasn’t, it was damn near close. 
There was still music playing from the vinyl player in the background that soothed any and all nerves that you could’ve ever had. You took a moment and inhaled deeply, breathing in the musk of Jaehyun and the scent of the candles. 
Your eyes fluttered closed. It was ironic that you were on a raging high even though you hadn’t even gotten around to having your usual fill of marijuana. In legal terms, you were far from inebriated. But according to yourself? You were fiending for Jaehyun and found him lethally intoxicating. 
His weight on top of you. His deep, guttural grunts in your ear between his jagged breaths. His perfect thrusts and the way he stroked you exactly how you wanted, all the while reaping his pleasure from your body. 
It was fucking mind-blowing. 
Jaehyun had a similar thought and it tore a noise out of him. His intentions in inviting you over tonight weren’t to have sex, in spite of his roommate’s attempts at getting him to get laid when he was only trying to break you in, but it was an unregrettable decision. 
“You take it so good, baby,” Jaehyun said tenderly, but it barely scratched the tip of the iceberg of praises he had in storage especially for you. 
Fuck, you wanted to hate how easy it was for him to kindle these rash flames inside of you, but your attraction to Jaehyun became undeniable the second you initiated the first rendezvous. 
You were peering into Jaehyun’s soul, searching his whole face without knowing what you were looking for, and saw the euphoria fluttering his eyes closed and spreading his lips apart just enough for those heavenly sounds to slip through. 
You guessed you found it then, because the tightening in the pit of your gut was at an all-time high and it wasn’t skipping out on the extremes. 
Combing your hands through his hair, you whimpered, “I’m so close.”
Jaehyun accelerated his pace, wanting to take you to the ends of the earth and back. You noticed, because you could feel his hard dick slapping against your hips with a purpose, and you swore to god your eyes rolled somewhere black. 
The end was creeping up on you from behind. You could feel it. Jaehyun could feel it himself, the telltale twitch of his cock indicating that he was pushing his limits. 
“I want you to cum,” Jaehyun growled in no uncertain terms, his tone dominant. “Nice and hard. Can you do that for me, baby?”
“Yes,” you choked out. 
If you were being frank, he didn’t even have to ask. It was impossible to hide the evidence of your impending orgasm, the heightened tremors in your voice and the shakiness in your body were more than enough proof. 
All you could think about was how restlessly you were going after this orgasm and how terribly you needed it like it would fix every little thing going wrong in your life.
Your hands slipped from Jaehyun’s hair to his shoulders to finally his back, raking your nails down the flesh in a set of ministrations that were bound to leave red lines, and you rasped breathlessly, “Finish me.”
The hoarseness of your voice alone could’ve broken Jaehyun but he hung on for your sake, fingertips flitting to your sensitive, swollen clit again because he knew he wouldn’t last very much longer. 
You were even more restless than before and it wasn’t long until Jaehyun granted your wish, your lips parting in a scream and your vision going totally black. Your toes curled into tight bends as you grinded your hips into Jaehyun, milking your release for every damn dime.
Jaehyun could feel you clenching rapidly and repeatedly around his cock and merely seconds after that it was game over. He came with the deepest, sexiest groan you had ever heard before in your life, hips stuttering as his cum filled the condom, and all you could think about was how this could not be a one-time thing. 
The next few minutes were a blur. You only recalled Jaehyun peeling off you to dispose of the condom, the layers of sweat on your naked bodies keeping you connected, and returning to your side briefly. 
Jaehyun scanned you for any signs of obvious discomfort. “Are you okay?”
Your mouth was hanging open, aggressive pants falling from your lips, but Jaehyun’s attention was no longer focused on your heaving chest - it was on you. “No, more like incredible.”
That had Jaehyun in the first half, but he snickered in amusement and relief when you wrapped up your sentence. “Do you wanna shower with me?”
“That’s kinda intimate,” you said, as if that was actually going to stop you. “Hell yeah, I do.”
Jaehyun rolled his eyes, but there was a smile plain as day on his face. You cried out in surprise when he hauled you into his burly arms, hooking one of them under your knees, and carried you into his bathroom. 
Your own individual toothbrush was in there on the sink counter squarely beside Jaehyun’s. It was only right that he let you keep one there, given how many late Friday nights you spent at his house instead of your own. 
Plus some of your clothes were there, tucked into his drawers, but when you returned to his bedroom, you donned one of his shirts that was unsurprisingly oversized on you. 
You sat on Jaehyun’s bed, memories of what you’d just done on his sheets still fresh, and watched him rifling through his vinyl catalog, but because he was shirtless you quickly got distracted by the view you had of his back. 
At least until he turned around after setting the vinyl on his record player, apparently oblivious, and coming to sit at your side. 
There was mischief on your face and you were struggling to stifle a giggle. It was obvious, and Jaehyun furrowed his brows. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Oh, nothing.”
Jaehyun didn’t believe you at all, but he didn’t press. 
You sighed contentedly, leaning into his naked chest. The little voice in your brain was thinking about how he smelled so clean and fresh, and good. Well, duh, she snapped. If you somehow weren’t paying attention, he just got out of the shower. 
But you were definitely paying attention, maybe a little more than you should’ve. It wasn’t your fault he looked like the leading role of every romance book ever. This was a man out of every little girls’ childhood dreams and, more importantly, every grown woman’s wet ones. 
As Jaehyun held you in his arms, you couldn’t help but think, spotting little items in his room that screamed, I come from money. “Jaehyun, is it okay if I ask you a question?”
Jaehyun hummed. You figured he might’ve been close to dozing off, but in reality, he was just captivated by the smell of your hair and hoping it lingered on his pillows. 
“You’re pretty well-off, but you live with two other guys. You’re technically always alone, but you don’t live alone. Why?”
Now that wasn’t what Jaehyun was expecting you to ask him, but you were full of surprises. He took a moment to ponder his answer, finding himself reflecting. “It’s because of how I grew up, I guess. I was the only child, so it was just me and my parents in the house. I guess I kind of wanted to know what it's like to have brothers.”
You made a noise of content. “You’re close then.”
“Yup.” 
You could feel Jaehyun playing with your hair and it made you smile gently.
“What about you and your friends?”
“What about them?”
“What’s the relationship like? Have you fucked Mark?”
You were taken aback, though rather than be affronted, the ridiculousness of that question made you laugh. “No way. I prefer my vagina itch-free,” you quipped. 
Jaehyun chuckled. It was a shock that that kid got around town the way he did, but that was why Jaehyun had to respect the hustle. 
Then, out of nowhere, you got a little sober. “On a serious note, Mark is my bestie and he’s what I imagine having a little brother is like. Johnny really likes him too, so sometimes I’ll walk in on them hanging out without me.”
You didn’t notice the way Jaehyun’s head bobbed along, but he was listening. It was believable. Mark was a social butterfly and impossible to dislike, no matter how irritating. 
And he was only irritating to some. Those who didn’t find him to be a thorn in their side probably wanted him a number of inches deep in their guts. 
You continued, “Yuta is more Johnny’s friend than he is mine, but he’s laidback. Haechan is a little shit but he’s funny as fuck. And you know Jeno is chaotic as ever.”
You were fond of your circles of friends. Most folks assumed it must’ve been suffocating to be the only girl amongst a group of insufferable horny dudes, but it wasn’t half bad. Jeno had tried to get into your pants before, but when you turned him down he took the rejection coolly. 
Mark, like you said, was like a sibling to you and that went both ways. When somebody suggested the two of you hook up, his knee-jerk reaction was to hiss, “Ew!”
Haechan was a slut like all of them but he knew better than to slut himself out to you and Yuta, though you already couldn’t have been further from his type, was one of your older brother’s closest friends. According to Yuta himself, the thought of being in a relationship with you was hilarious. 
Never mind the fact that he admitted he’d actually do it, but strictly for fun. Pissing off Johnny was his full-time job and dating his younger sister? It would’ve been the easiest way. 
You and Jaehyun chatted until you couldn’t ignore each other’s incessant yawns and made the mutual agreement to crawl under the sheets together. A rare Jungkook appearance one weekend forced you into bed with each other and ever since that was how you’d slept. 
Side by side, skin to skin. 
The sun was brighter than ever when you woke up some hours later. You noticed that the curtains were open. And they had been since you likened Jaehyun to a vampire.
Speaking of Jaehyun, he was still sleeping like a rock beside you, completely still other than the gentle heave of his chest as he snored quietly. You crawled gingerly out of bed so as not to disturb his rest, the sight of him still asleep when you stood making you sigh out in relief. 
After a quick wash-up in the bathroom, you headed downstairs for a snack. Your stomach was rumbling and you realized that you hadn’t eaten since you left home. 
What you didn’t expect was to see Yugyeom half-naked in the kitchen though. 
You weren’t sure why. It was his house and if he wanted to walk around like he just went skinny dipping, then he had that right. Fortunately, he was wearing sweatpants, so you were spared from that unsightly picture. 
Yugyeom heard your footsteps and turned. “Oh, hey. Sleep good?”
“I only slept for a few hours,” you confessed, though you felt like you were quite well-rested. “But yeah, I slept pretty good.”
Yugyeom chuckled. “I bet.”
You said nothing else. Yugyeom wasn’t a total stranger, even before you started crashing at his house, but you weren’t close by any means. 
“I didn’t think you’d be here,” you said after a pause, straddling a barstool. 
“I mean, I do live here. Who do you think pays most of the bills?”
“Jaehyun,” you chirped. 
“Okay, that’s fair. Who do you think pays the second most of the bills?”
“You and Jungkook, but it wasn’t always that way.”
Yugyeom threw in the towel, realizing Jaehyun had most definitely had this discussion with you at some point. Then, he started to laugh. Jaehyun was discussing their finances with you? There was no way in living hell. 
I’ll be damned. Yugyeomed sighed in amusement. “You know, you’re the first girl I’ve seen last this long with Jaehyun.”
“Oh?”
“I’m not saying he’s a player, but I thought I’d stop seeing you around here, like, two weeks ago. For a girl to survive a month with him, she has to really crank up his brain. And Jaehyun isn’t easily impressed,” Yugyeom said. 
It was obvious what he was implying and you knew exactly where this was heading. “I’m sure, but Jaehyun and I are just vibing.”
“I didn’t say that you weren’t.”
“Yes, but you think that we aren’t,” you replied, rubbing your arms. It was always cold the mornings after. 
Yugyeom laughed. “No, I don’t. Not right now. I didn't even crack Jaehyun that soon. All I’m saying is Jaehyun is a real gem and I think that you have a solid chance.”
“And you want me to take it?”
Yugyeom was strategically bouncing around, going from subtly planting ideas in your head to making them seem as if they were your own. “Whatever you do with that information is out of my hands and none of my business.”
Your lips parted to speak, but you were fortunately saved by the bell. Footsteps were heard from the hall and Jaehyun emerged from around the corner, voice deep from sleep, “What are you two talking about?”
Yugyeom lied without hesitation, “How handsome you are, of course.”
Jaehyun didn’t believe it for a second, but he stole the barstool beside you and gently nudged your elbow. “You think I’m handsome?”
“Oh, the handsomest,” you deadpanned, but rested your head onto his shoulder. 
Jaehyun let you. At least for a little while, but then he pulled you into his chest and mumbled groggily, “You left me.”
“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your hands tangled into his dark hair. “I’ll stay next time.”
“Good.”
Yugyeom was peering into the fridge, shaking his head, wondering if he was the only one that saw your fate. 
The whole weekend was spent in Jaehyun’s arms, restless. If you weren’t getting high on marijuana and chatting about whatever came to mind, you were dancing to one of his vinyls. If you weren’t kissing each other breathless, you were fucking each other senseless. 
It was two days of whimsical fun, ignoring the world and its insignificant little woes. In many ways, Jaehyun was like your oasis.
You were starting to hate Mondays. They were the days where you realized that nothing was forever, every time without fail. The days you had to finally face the world after a weekend of neglecting its existence. 
Plus you didn’t get a lot of Jaehyun during the other five days of the week, and though you understood your conflicting schedules, it was getting less and less easy to cope. 
Finals week thankfully gave you less time to think about whatever the hell was blossoming between you and Jaehyun. You didn’t want to think about it, because you were well aware that it wouldn’t last. As perfectly as Jaehyun molded into you, there was no piece of him that fit the bigger picture. 
But of course, you were pacing down your school’s courtyard with a bag slung over your shoulder when you noticed Mark’s footsteps catching up to you. “Wanna tell me why Johnny asked me if you’ve been going out with somebody lately?” he asked.
You pretended to be oblivious, keeping your head straight and your steps quick. “Why would he ask you that?”
“Because I’m your best friend and you tell me everything, or so I thought,” Mark hissed.
You groaned, weighing your options. You could keep this private love affair to yourself and let the guilt and pressure split you down the middle, or you could confide in your best friend and hope it took the edge off. 
Pulling Mark behind a tree and scanning your surroundings for unwanted bystanders, you exhaled roughly and said, “Don’t freak out, but I may or may not be sleeping with Jeong Jaehyun on the weekends.”
Mark was understandably dumbfounded by that information and screeched aloud, “What the fuck, dude?”
“I just said don’t freak out!”
Mark shook his head, the total opposite of cool and collected. There was no way in hell he wasn’t going to freak out. “Are you kidding? Johnny literally wants to kill him.”
“God, I know,” you bemoaned, pressing a palm to your forehead. This whole situation combined with the stress of finals was giving you a splitting headache. 
The shock was still evident on Mark’s face, but he seemed to be cooling off. “Shit, dude. This is crazy. Is the sex at least good?”
Your mind was fluttering with memories and it was hard to resist a smile. Getting laid right now would probably fix you. “Jeong Jaehyun may be a scoundrel for whatever reason, but I can reassure you he is not lacking in the sex department.”
Or any department. It was strange that in the weeks the two of you had spent bonding and the like, you had yet to identify a single red flag of Jaehyun’s. Apparently, the weirdest thing about this boy was the amount of pictures he kept of his toes. 
“Oh my god,” Mark gasped. 
“What?”
“That night you went upstairs to pee and didn’t come back,” Mark started, finally connecting the dots and displeased he hadn’t seen the hints earlier. “You were off screwing Jaehyun, weren’t you?”
“Actually, no. I was with him, yes, but we weren’t hooking up then.”
Mark was baffled to very fucking his core. That had to be half a decade ago. This whole time, you were spending your spare time on Jaehyun and nobody knew?
Gripping Mark by the shoulders, you stared into his eyes and said sternly, “Listen. You can’t tell Johnny.”
Your best friend made a face of disapproval, but nodded his head. “Alright. Fine.”
“I’m serious. You have to promise.”
Mark groaned, “Dude, I’m not gonna tell Johnny that you’re fucking Jaehyun. No matter how bizarre and borderline batshit insane that is to say aloud. I promise your secret is safe with me.”
You released his shoulders and a shaky breath, relenting. “Okay.”
“But that doesn’t mean that I approve.”
“Understandable. I can live with that.”
“I don’t see how,” Mark grumbled under his breath. 
You frowned. 
Months flew by. Christmas and News Year were a blur, two events you and Jaehyun spent at separate locations. Your parents were rarely home, but the winter holidays were a period of time that they always made sure to be around for. And Jaehyun paid his family a visit that week. 
But then it was February, and the national holiday that was Jaehyun’s birthday came of nowhere. 
“No way you were born on Valentine’s day,” you remembered telling him a few months back after asking him about his birthday. Jaehyun had groaned, more than accustomed to how this conversation played out. This was far from his first rodeo. 
Though it was rare that a girl made it to actually celebrate his birthday with him. 
Idiotically, you found yourself scorching with nerves that afternoon, overwhelmingly anxious. Your whole body was tense and you paced around your room antsily for hours until it was time to get in your car and head out to Jaehyun’s house. 
You had gotten him a gift and you weren’t sure whether he would like it or not. Then again, you had spent weeks planning what you would give him based on every second of every little conversation you’d shared and you were half confident, half uncertain. 
Jungkook opened the door to leave at the same moment you were preparing yourself to go inside, most likely heading to his girlfriend’s place after spending the morning celebrating his friend’s birthday, and held the door open for you. “Uh, do you need a minute?”
“No. Thank you,” you replied bashfully, catching the door and finally turning inside. 
You took one more deep breath and paced upstairs while gripping the box in your hands so tightly it might’ve broken. 
Jaehyun was sitting on his bed, his guitar in his hands instead of standing upright in the corner of his bedroom as typical, and glanced up when he heard your footsteps. “Hi.”
“Hi, birthday boy,” you greeted. 
Jaehyun was smiling. You had already wished him a happy birthday at midnight on the dot which was a sweet gesture in itself. 
“I, uh, got you something,” you said, mentally cursing yourself for sounding so nervous. 
“I can see that.” Jaehyun set his guitar aside. There was curiosity in his stare, but he whispered, “You didn’t have to.”
“But I wanted to. You’re my… friend,” you told him awkwardly, handing over the gift before it made you say something stupid. “I didn’t know what to get a guy who has literally everything he wants, but I tried.”
Jaehyun accepted the gift box graciously, peeling off the wrap, and said, “Whatever you got me is more than enough, baby.”
You sure hoped so. You didn’t spend the past few weeks stressing over this very moment for nothing. You wanted to give him something thoughtful and memorable. 
Anticipation made your heart sound like thunder. You fidgeted, twiddling your thumbs as Jaehyun slowly opened the box, retrieving a guitar strap alongside a couple of other items. The awe that tensed Jaehyun’s features was authentic and your heart was taut with giddiness when his lips tugged into a beaming smile. 
A few words scribbled onto the guitar strap caught Jaehyun’s attention and he unhesitatingly pulled them closer to his face to get a better look. It was like a little note, but words only you would say. Play me till the end. 
“Wow,” Jaehyun whispered, feeling a thumping inside of his ribcage. “You… I literally mentioned that I wanted one of these in passing.”
“When you talk, I listen.”
Jaehyun’s eyes met yours. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” you murmured, straddling his lap and tossing your arms around his neck. “Happy birthday, baby.”
Jaehyun set his hands at your hips and kissed you restlessly, restraint taking the backseat as he absorbed every bit of your warmth and used it to fuel his fire. Your lips took him to the other side but your hands kept him grounded. 
Things felt different now. Kissing Jaehyun had never not been spellbinding, but right now? The feeling in your chest was indescribably hot. 
But it was dangerous and terrifying. It defied everything you told yourself to be true, and every principle you had laid out. This was deeper than building a relationship with the enemy. It was the intimacy that accompanied trusting another guy with your heart, and fighting the unshakable doubts. 
You had built something of a friendship with Jaehyun. Friends that occasionally kissed and felt each other up and had hooked up more than once. 
But what if you wanted more? What if you were really two star-crossed lovers that couldn’t have each other? What if?
Jaehyun wondered if your feelings had gotten as tense as his were. Months ago, he was telling himself not to get too close to you because of who your brother was and your clear lack of romantic intentions, but no amount of walls he put up could’ve prevented his feelings from getting this deep. 
You wouldn’t tell him even if they had. What good would it have done for him to know that you loved him, but you couldn’t have him? 
When Jaehyun pulled back, he stared into your eyes, not at your lips. “Let’s go make hot cocoa,” he said after a pause.
You blinked in surprise, but Jaehyun was already tugging you along before you could even think. 
The time in the kitchen together was a beautiful mess. You liked randomly bursting out into song and Jaehyun liked dancing, which ultimately turned into him tenderly cradling you there in his arms and mumbling into your ear, the hot cocoa all but forgotten. 
You especially liked the toasty smell of a hot, creamy mug of hot chocolate. It was very Jaehyun-like. The winter seasons in general were reminiscent of his personality, not because he was cold (like some people assumed), but the sheer opposite. 
Jaehyun was the warmest guy that you had ever met, in a way. Anyone who said otherwise didn’t have the privilege of knowing him, but you? You liked to think that you had him all figured out.
Maybe there was a chance you did to an extent. Getting to know him over the course of these long months had definitely shifted your previous perspective. Jaehyun kept to himself because he was afraid of his vulnerability being used as a weapon, but when you broke those stubborn barriers, you saw that Jaehyun was just a guy that wanted a home. 
He had one, metaphorically speaking, but no one to share it between. That was why you used to think he was shy, and why others thought he was cold. Jaehyun wanted to protect the home he’d built for himself and was reluctant to let others in, because he wanted it to be sturdy for the ones he would let stay.  
A hopeless romantic to his core. 
After making sure the kitchen was tidy, Jaehyun led you away to the infamous white couch that stretched along his living room wall. Your favorite spot in the whole house. Aside from his bedroom, of course.
Jaehyun, on the other hand, couldn’t decide. Half of it was littered in a slew of memories of you and his whole bedroom smelled more like you than it did himself now. Picking a favorite would be an impossible choice. 
There was a lull of silence as the two of you sipped from your mugs, but it wasn’t an issue. The silence was always comfortable with Jaehyun, as well as literally everything else about him. 
Though you didn’t notice, the weird thing now was that Jaehyun was less secure. He didn’t make it obvious, but he was remarkably nervous. Jaehyun tried to cloak his nerves when he said, “I kind of got you something, too.”
Your eyes went wide with shock. “You got me something… for your birthday?”
“I mean, yeah. It’s also Valentine’s day and you’re… important to me,” Jaehyun confessed softly, a tiny smile breaking out onto his lips. 
“I am?”
“You are,” he whispered, hurriedly reaching into his pockets for something. Imagine your surprise when he dropped a USB drive into the palm of your hand. “Stick it into your computer when you get home.”
You nodded obediently, sitting it on the coffee table so that it wouldn’t be crushed in your jeans, but your innate curiosity was never satisfied and you asked, “What’s on it?”
“A surprise,” was all Jaehhyun said. 
You hummed. If Jaehyun didn’t want to tell you, you knew it would be pointless to press. 
But you would be lying if you said that it wasn’t killing you. 
Jaehyun knew that. He knew you were a curious individual, because he was drawn to your insatiable need to know. But he didn’t want to be there to see your reaction. Just looking at you made his chest taut and rejection’s brutal fangs still ripped him to shreds. 
At least you couldn’t tell by looking at him. Jaehyun had made sure of that. “Talk to me,” he said, squeezing your hand. 
You smiled, because his hands were warm from the hot cocoa. “About what?”
“Tell me more about yourself. It’s been months, but I feel like there’s still more to know about you. Talk to me about what you love. Your hopes and dreams.”
A little sigh left you. “Where do I even begin?” That was what you said, but you’d already continued without affording yourself any time to pause. “I want to be an orthopedic surgeon. I’m obsessed with anatomy and how our bodies function. That’s why I’ve been busting my ass for grad school.”
That much was obvious. Anybody that saw you on the party scene might’ve assumed you were merely another hopeless college student who only knew hooking up and getting shit-faced drunk, but Jaehyun’s first time seeing you was in the back of a library with a laptop and a heap of textbooks. 
You were a hard-worker and no hangover stood a chance between you and your goals. But you were also just a normal girl who wanted to let loose sometimes. It was the perfect balance. 
Jaehyun was a keen listener. “That sounds tough.”
You fought a groan. “God, yes. But it’s so worth it. It’s my senior year and I’ve been waiting my whole life for med school.”
“You’ve wanted to be a surgeon for that long?”
“I’ve always known who I wanted to be,” you exhaled contentedly. And for that you were endlessly grateful. “What about you?”
Jaehyun shook his head. “No. Not always. First, I guess I had to leave home and do the whole ‘finding yourself’ thing.”
“There’s nothing wrong with that. It’s rare that people are born with an innate sense of who they are. We deserve to live life through trial and error. That’s freedom,” you said.
Jaehyun wholeheartedly agreed. Leaving home to explore his identity might’ve been the toughest decision he ever made, but also the best one. “What about love?”
“What about it?”
“Did you ever dream of that, too?”
You should’ve figured he would go there. It was the essential question. The world of trauma beyond your control. “I used to,” you admitted, somber. “I just haven’t had a ton of faith in it lately. That’s what happens when you grow up, I think. You realize life’s not like the movies.”
Funny how I call you a hopeless romantic when hopeless romantics are anything but hopeless. In spite of the pain and the betrayal, they refuse to accept that they might die alone one day. If anything, I’m the hopeless one. I’ve fallen in love with the one boy I could never make mine. 
Jaehyun frowned for a split second, but recovered quickly. “Yeah, I know.”
You wondered who had hurt him, but chose not to ask. If he wanted to tell you, then he already would’ve. 
“You didn’t ask me,” Jaehyun started. 
You glanced up at him. 
“About my pain,” he continued shortly. “About her.”
“I didn’t think you were ready.”
“Do you want to know?”
“I mean, yeah. Of course, I want to know who hurt you and how that made you who you are. I want to understand you. But only as much as you want me to,” you told him. The truth was that as curious as you were, you were afraid of overstepping. The same way that Jaehyun was terrified of oversharing. 
He replied with total certainty, “I want you to know.”
You swallowed, feeling a lump form in your throat and unsure why. It was his deep, dark secrets being revealed, not yours. Plus you were positive there wasn’t a single person in the county who didn’t know your history with your one and only ex. “Okay. Take your time.”
Jaehyun heaved a shaky breath, preparing himself to share something that he’d never specifically told anyone. “Back home in Seoul, I dated a girl. I was naive and I thought she was the one. But she wasn’t. She only wanted a guy handsome enough to impress her parents.”
You maintained eye contact to let Jaehyun know you were listening. 
Jaehyun continued, “I guess we had different desires in life. She wanted a boy to show off and I wanted a girl who was my best friend at the foundation. We only talked about surface things. I couldn’t be myself around her.”
You nodded. That sounded like the Jaehyun you knew. 
“Then, I found out she was cheating on me,” Jaehyun added calmly, but he still recalled the trembles of anger that wrecked through his body. “And I left her then and there. I dipped. I might’ve been a naive idiot, but I knew my worth. She was my first and my last.”
You were shocked. That you shared the same pain - an unfaithful partner - and that Jaehyun hadn’t had nearly as many other partners as you thought he would’ve. “You’ve only dated once?”
“For me, once was enough to figure out what I wanted in a relationship, and it wasn’t a girl who I could barely trust or be myself with,” Jaehyun said. “I talked to other girls, but like I said before, nothing lasted, and I’ve obviously hooked up.”
Ironically, I’ve been hurt more by girls I never had than a girl that was supposed to belong to me. 
“I harbored resentment for a long time, but what lasted longer was the leftover fear of trusting someone again. I only let people see what I want them to see. And because of that, I’m a little lonely sometimes, but it’s okay.”
“Does it get sad?” you asked quietly. 
Jaehyun shrugged his shoulders. “Maybe, but it’s better than being heartbroken. Anyways, I’ve gotten better about inviting people into my life and having good judgment. Time makes it easier.”
You make it easier, was what he meant, but Jaehyun wasn’t that bold yet. He might have been the one to approach you and attempt to initiate this private affair, but you sticking around was the last thing he expected. And that opened the door for the possibility that relationships didn’t have expiration dates. 
Reading between the lines, you were hoping that somewhere along them he wasn’t hinting about a potential future with you. Jaehyun’s head was in the clouds, but you were grounded below the surface. Because you had already resigned yourself to the fact that you didn’t have a future together.
But of course, that never stopped you from letting him undress you. 
You were hyper aware of Jaehyun’s eyes staring into yours and it was beginning to unnerve you a little. “Is there hot cocoa on my face?”
Jaehyun shook his head with a cute laugh and finally leaned into you for a kiss, obviously done speaking and prepared to show. You let him take you down onto the couch, laid defenseless beneath him, on the edge of surrender. 
You giggled into his lips, pleased at how silly it was that he tasted like the hot drink you’d shared. Your hands were wound through his hair and tugging him closer to you, wanting to be inseparable. You wouldn’t be sated till his soul was tied to yours. 
When it came to your body, you were more than inclined to let Jaehyun dominate you. But your heart was more than you had bargained for. 
Jaehyun yanked at the waistband of your sweatpants and you swore you could sense your heart swelling with the exhilaration of getting laid by the only guy you wanted. You raised your hips, letting him take them and your underwear from underneath you. 
You gasped loudly when his fingers ghosted along the insides of your thighs and unhurriedly traveled to your core, which was throbbing at the barest of touches. Jaehyun made you ache. Your body neglected every thought that didn’t concern him when it longed for him to use it until you were sore. 
Jaehyun sucked a slick pair of fingers into his mouth fleetingly before inserting them inside your pussy, making you verbally respond to the contact with a soft whimper, and stole the sound right from your lips with a hot wet kiss. You only tightened around his digits when he pressed his lips to you and it made his head spin quicker than ever. 
You pulled back and panted, “So, you won’t let me sleep on the couch, but you’ll fuck me on it?”
“It’s seen worse days,” Jaehyun said, muting the sound of his own chuckle when he pressed his mouth to your neck. 
You were torn between a laugh and a moan and the final sound was a breathy whimper of Jaehyun’s name. His mouth felt too good on your neck and you couldn’t forget his hands between your parted legs. Gentleman in the streets, but a beast in the sheets. 
Jaehyun was touching you impatiently. Your exhales were loud and jagged when he pulled back from your stained throat, and Jaehyun couldn’t help but imagine the noises you would make when he was finally seated deeply inside of your pussy that was clenching around his long slender digits. 
Deciding you were wet enough to take his cock, Jaehyun recouped his hand from between your thighs and asked, “You ready for me, baby?”
“More than,” you whispered, disgruntled with the emptiness but consoled by the knowledge that you would be full of him momentarily. 
Jaehyun stepped out of his clothes without hesitation and got a hold of your naked legs, dragging you toward him and leaving no room for empty space. The two of you locked eyes when he finally started to penetrate you and he looked at you with need. But you glanced away. You couldn’t stare into his soul as he captured yours. You couldn’t do it. 
You moaned when he pushed the head of his cock through your entrance and again when it went as deeply as it could enter. The stretch was so mad, but so good. You never knew how closely the pain could be interlocked to pleasure before Jaehyun took you for a spin on his big cock.
Jaehyun pulled out with a disgruntled groan, stealing the pleasure before you could really soak in the sensation. 
You winced your eyes open and asked confusedly, “Why did you do that?”
“I forgot a condom,” Jaehyun admitted bashfully, a timid little glint in his stare. 
“Gee, you sure chose a fantastic time to remember,” you deadpanned. 
Jaehyun looked like he was a little ashamed and it amused the hell out of you. In the heat of your vice-like cunt, he’d lost track of all thoughts other than getting his cock inside. 
You gawked when he stood and you caught an eyeful of his cute butt when he turned for the stairs. “Where are you going?”
Like it was the most obvious thing in the whole world, Jaehyun replied nonchalantly, “To get a condom.”
“Sit your cute ass down,” you told him a bit too assertively. “You can have me raw.” 
Jaehyun looked like his brain short-circuited. “For real?”
You nodded. “Yes, for real, you dummy. Just pull out.”
Jaehyun combed his fingers through his hair and groaned, “That’s one hell of a responsibility, woman.”
You purred teasingly, “Are you scared you won’t be able to do it, or are you scared that you’ll bust too fast?”
Jaehyun’s eyes fell to your gorgeous, spread legs, thickly swallowing the lump in his throat at the mouth-watering sight of you laid bare and exposed as you waited for him to take you. Fuck. Maybe both.
You snickered to yourself. Unbeknownst to Jaehyun, you were on birth control. And you had no intention of telling him right now. You wanted to gauge his restraint. 
Jaehyun didn’t reply, but he did return to the couch to slip between your folds again, and that was even better. Your pussy throbbed tirelessly, missing the way his thick cock stretched you out, and it drew deep grunts from the very back edge of Jaehyun’s throat. 
You could feel every inch of him pressed deep inside your pulsing walls, flush against you. All of him. There was literally nothing to separate the two of you, exactly as you had wanted, only the heat and tightness of your cunt suffocating his cock relentlessly. 
Jaehyun loved how you took him like a fucking champ. You sucked his cock back in like you needed it, like you needed him just as badly as he needed you. Your eyes winced closed and your lips parted as you sang his name in a shrill whimper. 
You were rapt with ecstasy at his long, deep thrusts that took you to the moon. The pain and guilty thoughts disappeared into his slow yet steady rhythm, as if Jaehyun wanted to make sure you could feel every bit of himself that he had to offer. 
Like he was making love to you.
“You’re so beautiful. I’m in love with your body,” Jaehyun whispered gently into your ear, hooked on you.
You moaned, oblivious to the fact that he really meant he was in love with you. When your naked bodies were bursting with heat and satisfaction, meeting each other in a wet collision, all else ceased to matter. 
Jaehyun kissed you again. You swore he stole the pulse right from your chest in that very moment, your heart open to him. His hands were everywhere, tenderly cupping your breasts and thumbing your stiff nipples. This was pleasure. This was elysian. This was all yours.
You were breathless when the two of you separated and the minutes of your lips tangled together felt like mere seconds. God, Jaehyun made you insatiable. As you did to him. The two of you couldn’t get enough, not of the sex and not of each other. It was lethally dangerous to want something as badly as you both wanted one another. 
But you knew that when you laid eyes on him, when you indulged him. You knew that he was endless trouble and yet you crept into his arms anyway like a moth to the flame. 
“God, fuck,” you rasped, throat hoarse from how you were screeching his name. “You make me feel so good.”
Jaehyun was so gentle and affectionate with you, tickling kisses down every bit of your soft skin his lips could access. It was times like these, when he completed you perfectly, where you welcomed the thought that you were made for each other. And only for each other. 
Your mouth was dry, open with every halfway cry of Jaehyun’s name that you could manage. Your skin was damp and sticky with moisture, a thin layer of sweat keeping his skin adhering to yours. Of course, there was a similar glistening sheen dripping down Jaehyun, beading at his forehead and neck. 
It made you lick your chapped lips. This man was abundantly mouth-watering. You wanted to give him anything he wanted and in this sex-induced haze, you knew that you would have. 
Jaehyun noticed your eyes fixated on literally anywhere but his face and it made him chuckle smugly. He craned his head downwards to nibble beneath your ear and groan praises about how perfect and tight you were around his cock. 
You tangled your hands in his hair again, desperate to ground yourself, before sitting them at his handsome broad shoulders. He had no business being this good at touching and fucking you. You were downright ashamed of the noises that left your lips but made no attempts to block the pleasure causing them to slip into the dense air. 
“Like that. Fuck, I’m gonna cum, Jay,” you whimpered, squeezing his shoulders. 
The thought of you releasing around his bare cock made a shudder shoot through Jaehyun and he almost couldn’t take it. You sensed his pace getting a little rougher, as if he was out to get you. Out to finish you. “Look at me,” he growled. 
You did. You didn’t have any other options. Not when it was him bleeding you dry, making your body dependent on his touches.
Looking into his dark eyes, everything stopped. The whole world was set on pause. You almost couldn’t breathe. This was how it felt to fall with no anchor.
“I want you to cum on my cock,” Jaehyun said lowly, rutting into you at a dangerous pace. 
You nodded. You were completely submissive to his desires.
There was a throbbing pressure in your gut that only got harsher with every wet smack of Jaehyun’s hips into yours. You wound your legs around his waist and pulled him into you, wanting to fuse together your limbs. 
Your body felt as if it were on fire. The sweat cooling down your neck, the lack of oxygen in the air. The breaths Jaehyun snatched plain from your lips. It was more than enough to take you out. 
Jaehyun watched as your orgasm finally seized you in its open arms, taking you by surprise. Your abs tensed viciously and you arched into Jaehyun with pleasure, sensing your eyes roll to the very back of your head and your toes curl into taut knots. 
You were still sensitive from your climax but Jaehyun’s pace was absolutely unforgiving, rutting into you mercilessly through your release. The tightness of your pussy drew a thick groan out of his mouth, but he still wasn’t done with you yet. And you were very keen on letting him use your body until he finished. 
Jaehyun relented when you finally started to calm down after coming undone, kissing your cheeks and the corner of your lips as you went almost entirely slack. The only motion in you was the aggressive heave of your chest as you panted for breath. 
You let Jaehyun thrust in and out of you, fighting the overstimulation for his sake. You were content to feel him brushing against your slick walls and hear those breathy grunts. 
Smoothing your hands up and down his burly arms, you whispered, “Jay, baby, keep going. I don’t care how long it takes. Fuck me until you’re done.”
Jaehyun bit his lip to veil a pathetic moan at those words. After he took care of your needs, you were letting him ply you for his own pleasure. You were his vice, his ruining. Your fingers grazed across his back, gathering the droplets of moisture that were beading at the surface. 
You could feel how hot his skin was, burning up in the heat of you. 
Abruptly, Jaehyun pulled out of you and tore you upright, holding his desperate cock in the palm of his hand as he groaned, “Get on your knees.” 
You obeyed without hesitation, meek. Crawling onto the carpet floor, you took him in your palms and stroked his thick girthy cock gingerly, careful not to be too rough. He was victimless in your warm hands, needy and at your mercy, leaving you with total control. 
Then it was game over for Jaehyun when you finally took him between your soft lips, gently easing him to the back of your throat. God, it was a struggle to fit his big cock completely into your mouth, but you somehow managed. You kept your cheeks hollowed, opening them for him to thrust. 
“Fuck,” Jaehyun moaned, head thrown back and eyes winced closed. You knew exactly what needed to be done to finish him off. 
You liked playing with his cock, obviously, but you loved having it in your mouth way more. There was nothing like driving Jaehyun to the cusp of insanity, teasing him with your tongue and hot mouth, plucking those beautiful sounds out of his lips. He lost himself whenever he was inside your throat. 
Jaehyun was in total bliss. Your mouth was no less impressive than your sheathlike cunt for all he knew, your lips wrapping around his stiff cock feverishly without a doubt in your mind that you could make him lose his own, and he almost didn’t want to orgasm yet. He only knew you, and what you did to him. And he was too greedy to want it to end. 
You had this boy all to yourself, wrapped tightly around your fingers with nowhere to hide. And you didn’t have the slightest clue what to do with him, or yourself. 
Aside from pleasuring each other in bed, or on the couch in this case. You were exceptionally gifted at getting him off.
Jaehyun could feel himself approaching the threshold of release and he did everything in his power to fight it off, to keep it at bay, but it was basically useless. He couldn’t even help but fuck your mouth. You were working him too good and he was coming whether he liked it or not. 
You were impressed that he had even lasted this long. Normally, when you let a guy hit it raw, they could barely resist emptying their load into you at the peak of climax. 
Jaehyun ultimately couldn’t control himself anymore and his jaw slacked with a deep, lethal groan as his hips came to a total standstill, painting the back of your throat with a streak of cum. Fuck, it was the sexiest noise you’d ever heard, and it aroused a throbbing between your legs. 
You managed to gulp him down and it was the hottest thing Jaehyun had ever seen watching you swallow his cum like that. He pulled back, a misty gleam in his dark soulless eyes as he collapsed onto the couch, breathless. There was a layer of dew at your lashes and you dabbed at your eyes to wipe them clear. 
Jaehyun looked like he’d just had the ground ripped from underneath him. “You just blew my mind,” he said through jagged breaths. 
You didn’t miss a beat. “I just blew you.”
Jaehyun laughed, shaking the hair out of his face. 
After both of you found your clothes and redressed yourselves, you decided to mention slyly, “By the way, I’m on birth control.”
Jaehyun’s mouth gaped open. “Are you serious? I was scared you might get pregnant.”
“That didn’t stop you from fucking me though, now did it?” you replied, crossing your arms. 
“I wasn’t that scared.”
You snickered. This idiot was a man you wanted to protect with your life, but you knew that you lacked the arsenal. “Besides, at least our baby would’ve had the world’s finest father.”
“And the world’s finest mother. They would’ve been beautiful,” Jaehyun flirted. 
Your cheeks flushed with heat at the compliment and his obvious flirtatious behavior. “I meant that you would’ve been a good dad, but sure. That works too.”
Jaehyun’s eyes flickered in shock. “Why do you think that?”
You shrugged, not thinking too hard about it. You didn’t need to when the answer was right at the tip of your tongue. “Because love itself is your passion. You’re selfless, patient. Protective. And you fight for what you love.”
Jaehyun said nothing. He was mulling over your confession, suspiciously quiet the whole time, but you were so tired that you hardly noticed. Your body was spent and you wanted to go upstairs and climb into his bed. 
You stretched your arms over your head and stood to collect the cocoa-stained dishes in your arms. Jaehyun blinked at the action, and would’ve stopped you to do it himself, but you were already halfway to the kitchen by the time he noticed. 
Jaehyun walked over and pressed himself behind you, draping his arms around your hips and resting his chin on your shoulder. You giggled, enamored with how it felt to be skin-to-skin with him, and when you finished with the two mugs, he reached over your head to set them down in the cabinets. 
You dragged Jaehyun upstairs by his arm to his own bedroom and slipped beneath his silk sheets, but invited him to drape himself above you and rest his head on your chest like you were his fluffy pillow and he was the thick, cozy blankets. 
It was comfortable that way. You liked Jaehyun’s weight on you, so close to you, crushed beneath the pressure. His arms would tangle around you and leave you little room to escape. But you wouldn’t want to leave. 
That was how you woke up sometimes. You used to be afraid that you’d accidentally rouse him and disturb his beauty slumber, but Jaehyun always slept like a ton of bricks. This boy could probably sleep through a hurricane and wake up wondering what happened to his roof. 
You sighed, whisking your fingers through his dark hair and staring at his face. You expected his eyes to be closed when you looked at him, but they were watching you. The ache in your chest was unignorable, unbearable. 
Those long nights and shorter mornings with Jaehyun were all you had, but you wanted something of permanence and you were finally admitting it to yourself. You knew these moments couldn’t last forever and didn’t attempt to deny it, but you were hoping and wishing. 
Smoothing your thumb down Jaehyun’s cheek, you felt a piece of your heart crumble. I can’t have you and I don’t even know why. 
“Jay?” you whispered. 
“Hm?”
You hesitated, brimming with reluctance. A few months ago, you would’ve thought it wasn’t your place to ask, but dammit Johnny was your brother and Jaehyun… meant something to you. This was officially your business. “Why does my brother hate you?” you asked. 
Jaehyun sat up abruptly, surprised. You matched the shock in his eyes, startled by his sudden movements. “You don’t know?”
You shook your head. “No. Johnny never told me. I assumed he would when he was ready, but it’s killing me and I need to know.” Because I can’t make sense of why we can’t be together, but ironically, it makes it easier to justify being here with you right now.
Jaehyun ran his fingers through his hair, looking particularly perturbed. No wonder it was so easy for you to climb into bed with him. Night after night, weekend after weekend. 
You were almost afraid to ask, “Is this going to change my perspective on you?”
“It shouldn’t if you believe me,” Jaehyun said, but the truth was that he wasn’t too confident that you’d take his side. 
You peered up at him expectantly, resting your hand on his back while he sat beside you. You were partly terrified to know the truth, watching him nervously, but god, you were exhausted of being kept in the dark. 
Jaehyun exhaled deeply. He didn’t want to lose you, not before he truly had you, but he knew what he was, and more importantly, he knew what he wasn’t. “You knew Mike, right?”
You bobbed your head, lips parting in surprise at the mention of Johnny’s friend, but let him continue. 
Jaehyun explained, “I’m sure you know, but he was addicted to drugs and it was fucking up his whole life. I tried to help him get clean before he fucked around and killed himself. And he was, I think. That’s what he said.”
You recognized this story. Johnny had said something similar, but it was about his own efforts. You somehow never realized that Jaehyun and Mike were friends. “But?”
“But then he wasn’t clean anymore,” Jaehyun said in the tiniest voice ever. “Last year, at one of Xiaojun’s parties. It came out of nowhere. He overdosed on fent and coke.”
You knew that too. And you hated that Mike was gone so soon, taken by a poison he couldn’t stop once he’d gotten his hands on it. It was heartbreaking. 
“Then some people started to say that I did it, that I gave him the drugs. And I was at the party only a room away when he OD’d, but I swear to god it wasn’t me. But they ran with it anyway.”
You frowned, pausing your hands’ consolations at his back in shock. It was starting to add up now, why Johnny hated Jaehyun. Because he thought he was complicit in the death of one of his closest friends. 
That was when he started to become a tad too overprotective of you and it didn’t take a genius to piece together why, but you never knew it was the reason he loathed Jaehyun and didn’t want you anywhere near him. There were so many nights where you went to parties at Jaehyun’s house and Johnny would ask if you’d done any drugs. 
Because of Jaehyun. 
“God, to this day, I want to punch the bastard that gave Mike that stuff. And if I knew who he was, I’d kick his ass. So, I can understand why Johnny wants to kick mine. But it wasn’t me,” Jaehyun said, sounding broken. 
You blinked, taking it all in silently. You were at a crossroads. 
Though he was hesitant, Jaehyun glanced into your eyes, unsure of what your silence meant. It was killing him. “Please tell me you believe me.”
“I believe you,” you said, because you did. You had no reason to doubt Jaehyun. Plus you hadn’t known him to press his luck with anything other than weed in the time that you’d known each other. 
“Thank god,” Jaehyun sighed in relief. “Does this change things between us?”
You shook your head. “No. I thought you were a good guy before and I still think you’re a good guy now. Nothing is new.”
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
Jaehyun rested his head on your shoulder and mumbled with obvious melancholy, “Trusting me.”
You laced your fingers through Jaehyun’s, squeezing his hand. “I’ll always trust you.”
That warmed Jaehyun’s heart and he sat there wondering what he had done to deserve you. It felt like there was a burden lifted from his shoulders. 
The day went on, bleeding into night. You expected Jaehyun to want to go somewhere to celebrate his birthday, but he reassured you that he was more than content to spend it indoors with you.
Still, it made you a little sad and you tried your best to cloak your gloomy emotions with your affections. You didn’t want Jaehyun to know, but you were thinking about how nice it would’ve been to do something as simple as go out together. 
Reasonably, you were shocked when Jaehyun said, “I want to try out this Japanese restaurant with you next weekend.”
You blinked. “You want to go out… with me?” you asked, making sure you weren’t mistaken. 
Jaehyun nodded, enthusiastic. “Is that a bad idea?”
“What if we get caught together?”
Jaehyun shrugged. “That’s a risk I’m willing to take.”
“Of course it is. You don’t have anything to lose,” you said, but your tone was humorous.
Jaehyun replied without hesitation, “I have you to lose.”
You were sold. Those five words were all you needed to hear.
There was a ginormous beaming smile on your face when you both finally decided to call it a night and you fell asleep with a certain soreness in your cheeks. 
Jaehyun stayed up a little later than you had. Not on purpose, but it was impossible to rest his eyes when he was distracted by your sleep patterns. Your soft snores and the way your hand curled over his stomach. 
It was the sheer opposite of annoying. It was intoxicating. 
He was the one clinging to you when you roused from bed after sunrise. You felt bad for slipping away like a thief in the night, but in your defense, it was daytime and you had to be in your professor’s classroom for attendance. 
After washing up and tossing on a spare outfit you had in Jaehyun’s room for events like these, you scribbled an apologetic note that he would surely find on his nightstand and quietly crept downstairs with a sadness weighing on you now that you had to leave. 
And surely enough, Jaehyun woke up to the note and smiled like a dumbass when he rubbed his eyes and read it to himself. 
Good morning, sleeping handsome. I’m gonna miss you today, but I have an early afternoon class that I have to pass to graduate. You sleep like deadweight, by the way. I had to fight out of your arms and you didn’t notice. See you next weekend. Call me. 
Jaehyun crawled out of bed and headed to the bathroom for a shower, but he could tell that you’d obviously already taken one with a single simple glance, and he was wishing you had invited him to join you. 
Now he sounded like a guy. Which was fair, because he was one. 
You raced home after class ended. Though you had more than enough exams that it would’ve been a good idea to study for, the main thing on your mind was plugging in the flash drive Jaehyun had gifted you, because you still were dying to know what was on it. 
It was safe to say that a song was the last thing you were expecting. 
You froze on your bed, unsure of how to feel. Everything hit you hard. The wistful yet romantic lyrics, the softness of his voice. Jaehyun was pouring his heart out to you, opening up to you about his feelings the best way he knew how. 
There was a ripple of emotions bursting through you. The lyrics were a little too sentimental for you to attempt to convince yourself that this wasn’t Jaehyun’s idea of a love confession. Maybe you’d known all along, but you didn’t want to accept it, because you knew that it wasn’t written in the stars. 
Now you had no choice. 
You sat there and cried. God, it was a beautiful song and that only made the tears drip even harder. You were bemused and overwhelmed. Bemused that he had obviously taken a lot of time out of his busy life to sit there and record a song for you, and overwhelmed by everything else. 
Jaehyun loves me. Jaehyun really loves me, you thought, admitting it to yourself. And it scared you to death, because you loved him too. 
Then the day came for you to hang out at the restaurant. It was the first time you and Jaehyun actually spent time together outside of his house. The meetup on the bridge and the incident at Jeno’s house didn’t count. Those were merely instances you’d happened to cross paths. 
When Jaehyun came up behind you in a back hug while you were waiting for him (you were embarrassingly early), you didn’t jolt or startle, relaxing into his touch without sparing him a glance first. Nobody else would be wearing his sexy ass cologne. 
You didn’t mention the song or acknowledge the obvious romantic tension between you at all, much to Jaehyun’s disappointment. But he knew you definitely took the flash drive back home. It wasn’t on the coffee table when he went downstairs, meaning you had grabbed it on your way out.   
He couldn’t help but wonder if you had listened to it and vividly pictured your reaction, but Jaehyun knew it would be pointless obsessing over the thought if he wasn’t going to ask. 
The truth was that you were conflicted. Your heart wanted Jaehyun, but you were rational and knew it was ridiculous. There was no point in setting yourselves up for more useless heartbreak. 
But you had fun with Jaehyun in that restaurant. You didn’t want to admit it, but it was the closest thing to a date you would ever have with him. You talked and held hands underneath the table like the pair of lovers you hoped you were in another life. 
Your insatiable lovesick heart was aching for more. And the worst part was that Jaehyun was oftentimes right there in your arms but had never felt further. 
It wasn’t until you were unfortunately back home and walking through the front door that you read aloud the text you’d received from Johnny. We need to talk. I’ll be home in an hour. “Well, that cannot be good,” you mumbled to yourself. 
“It isn’t.”
You jolted in alarm. You didn’t know Johnny was home, though it had most definitely been well over an hour. Jaehyun was too interesting for you to even think about touching your phone once. 
Given the familiar less than content glare on Johnny’s face, you fought a groan, wondering what you could’ve possibly done now when you’d been on your best behavior lately. You lilted in the usual tone you used when you wanted to get out of trouble, “Hi, my handsome big brother that I love dearly.”
Johnny, obviously not in the mood, snapped, “Taeyong saw you with Jaehyun today. You wanna explain that to me?”
That was the last thing you expected him to say and the shock was plain on your face. “What?”
Johnny shook his head, unsurprised that you were acting clueless, and though he was furious he tried not to raise his voice. “Don’t play dumb. Are you dating him - fucking him?”
“I’m not dating him, we’re just…,” you trailed in frustration, realizing that you’d been caught. “Shit, yeah. I’ve fucked him and we’re hanging out.”
Johnny blew out a long, exasperated sigh. “I can’t believe this. God, my own sister.”
Tears threatened. At this point, you were desperate. Your whole world was crashing down without warning. You wished you would’ve at least seen the text and braced yourself. “Johnny, please. If you gave him a chance, I think you two would really like each other!”
“I could never like him,” Johnny replied viciously, face tensing in fury as if the suggestion was an affront to his entire existence.  
You approached Johnny, somehow mustering the courage to come near him. “Please listen to me, alright? He didn’t do it, Johnny. It wasn’t him!”
Johnny gawked. He couldn’t believe you were defending Jaehyun and took a gigantic step back, wanting to be nowhere near you. He hissed, “Of course that’s what the bastard told you. Did he give you proof?”
Frantic, you shook your head, and it came to you that you only had trust to back Jaehyun’s claims. “No, but...”
Johnny grabbed his keys and interjected, “Stop. Just stop. I don’t even want to see your face right now.”
Your lips were agape when Johnny stormed towards the garage, full of purebred rage and disappointment. 
After a few minutes, the shock started to dull away and you temporarily regained the ability to function, racing upstairs to your bedroom to be inert. You hated the brutal sting splitting you in half. While your thoughts were on pause and you were consumed by emptiness, it was the one thing keeping you from dissociating. 
Sitting there on your bed, knees pressed to your chest and your arms curled around yourself, you couldn’t even cry. It would come, but right now you were trying to process the pain. And in the meantime, you realized what needed to be done.
Two long days later, you were meeting Jaehyun at the bridge one final time. It took nearly forty-eight hours of gathering the courage to pick up your phone, but you had to let him know it was over. That this was goodbye. 
You ran your fingers across the wooden overlook, taking in nature, but even the peaceful noise of your surroundings failed to soothe your heartbreak. 
The sound of tentative footsteps barely drew you from your own head, and you didn’t want to face your visitor. You knew it was Jaehyun. For more reasons than one. 
Though you couldn’t see, Jaehyun had his hands in his pockets. “Am I late?”
“No, you’re perfectly on time. I got here early. I needed time to think,” you replied with a fleeting glance at your watch. 
Jaehyun watched you with unease, a perturbed thud in his heart making it challenging to breathe. This was bad, he knew, and for whatever reason, that fear that he was doomed was unshakable. “What happened?”
“Johnny knows,” you began, finally whipping around. It was the least you could do, knowing you had to break his heart. “Taeyong saw us together. He snitched. Now Johnny wants nothing to do with me.”
Jaehyun’s heart sank. No wonder you hadn’t texted or called him in two days. Aside from inviting him here, that is. “What now?”
“I can’t see you anymore. Johnny already hates me now. If I keep seeing you behind his back, I won’t have a brother anymore. I can’t live with that guilt. That’s why I’ve been running from it for months,” you said quietly. 
Jaehyun stiffened, like a boulder. “We’re giving up? That’s insane! Don’t let him stop us from being together.”
You recoiled, surprised. “Are you asking me to choose you over my brother?”
“No, of course not,” Jaehyun sighed, combing his hands through his hands as he searched for the right words. 
You desperately wanted to reach out to him, to touch him, but you couldn’t bring yourself to move. “You should be with someone who can treat you the way you deserve to be treated. Someone you can hold and kiss outside without any worries. I can’t give you that, Jaehyun.”
Jaehyun shook his head. “None of that matters to me. I want to be with you. I don’t care what compromises I have to make.”
“Well, I do,” you whispered sullenly, reminding yourself of everything you had to lose. “It was never going to work. You had to know this. We aren’t Shakespeare characters. Hell, even they don’t get to be happy!”
Jaehyun’s chest was taut with pain. It was usually him that had to tell people the brutal reality of unfortunate situations. And this was how it felt to be on the other side?
Fighting the oncoming threat of tears, you continued, “I’ve enjoyed these past months with you and we’ve made special, unforgettable memories together. But enough is enough. We were gonna have to face the truth one day, and that day is today. It was inevitable. I hope that somehow we can still be friends.”
Jaehyun spat, “I don’t want to be just friends. I can’t be just friends with you. Why don’t you understand that?”
Oh, you did. You really, really did. This was hurting you in ways unimaginable and nothing could’ve prepared you for the moment where you had to set Jaehyun free. 
Not even knowing this day would come. 
“I love you,” Jaehyun confessed for the first time, taking some steps closer to you. The gleam in his eyes killed you. 
Those words were like ice in your veins. Your heart stopped beating. For half a minute, the whole world ceased. You shook your head, sensing a vicious pain returning to you. “You can’t love me.”
Jaehyun switched on a dime and hissed, “You can’t tell me how to feel.”
Denial still crept through your blood. Apparently, it was one of your many talents. Jaehyun’s too. “You’re in love with the idea of me. You just want somebody to love again and maybe I made you realize that, but you don’t love me.”
Jaehyun was trembling. You were trying to diagnose him and he wouldn’t stand for it. “Saying that doesn’t make it true.”
You were defiant. You needed it to be true. There had to be some way to get him to let you go and move on. You didn’t want to resort to cruel methods, but you would if you were rendered optionless. 
Jaehyun continued, “You did make me realize that I wanted love again. But I also realized that I could have it all in you.”
Finally pushed past your limits, you shattered and screamed, “Goddammit, Jaehyun - you can’t have me!”
You turned away, hoping he would let you leave. You didn’t want things to end on even worse terms than they already were. 
But you should’ve known Jaehyun would be relentless. He was a fighter. You were what he wanted, what he loved, and he’d damned if he surrendered without a fight. “So, that’s it? You’re just going to walk away?” 
You rooted in place and exhaled loudly, bristling with frustration. “The fuck do you want me to do, Jay? It’s out of my hands.”
“Talk to Johnny - you know that I didn’t do anything!”
“No, I don’t know anything,” you grumbled, crossing your arms tightly. 
That stunned Jaehyun. You didn’t trust him anymore?
Jaehyun laughed, but it was humorless. Needless to say, he was pissed. “Wow. You gave up the fight before it started, before it was over. You never gave us a chance.”
You walked away. You didn’t have the strength. 
Jaehyun kept prodding. You were unbelievable and he couldn’t stand you right now. “I bet this isn’t just about Johnny. I bet him being your brother is just a cop-out so that you don’t have to trust another guy again.”
Now that stung deep. He was hitting you where it hurt, making sure you understood how badly you had wounded him, and you realized there was a chance he was right and you hadn’t even considered it. You whipped around, snapping, “Fuck you. I wish I never met you.”
Jaehyun watched you disappear behind the thick branches, simmering where he stood. God, he resented the fuck out of you right now. You were accepting defeat, throwing in the towel, and he hated you because of it. 
The seemingly endless months of ignorant bliss were washed down the drain all because you didn’t want to be a little more optimistic. You could’ve had it all together, had you not resigned yourself to being unhappy. You were so hell-bent on being realistic that you closed the door on other possibilities. 
Almost the second you burst through the front door, your tears fell after what felt like an eternity of fighting them back. Johnny and your parents turned to face you with alarm when you paraded through the living room, but you ignored your mother’s questions and made a beeline for your bed. 
Johnny didn’t ask. He already knew, and he was only somewhat satisfied that you had done what should’ve never needed to happen in the first place. 
The days of the week started to bleed into each other. You didn’t talk to Jaehyun for obvious reasons. Johnny, the man whose shoulders you thought would always be there for you to lean on, was ironically giving you the cold shoulder. And  Mark wouldn’t understand even if you explained, though you knew he was available. 
Never had you felt so alone. You had no one to escape to. No one who could comprehend or justify the moral dilemma you forced yourself into. I’ve truly outdone myself. I’ve betrayed my brother, baffled my best friend, and lost my lover back to back. That has to be a world record. 
Seven days marked the longest time you had gone without speaking with Jaehyun since the onset of this private love affair. He didn’t call or text you either, which was understandable. Plus it was what you wanted, or at least that was what you used to think. 
You weren’t sure anymore. Cutting him off was the whole purpose of meeting him, but why did it make you feel so isolated?
It wasn’t that long ago that you did it because you thought it was the right choice, or maybe because you thought it would make things better. But it hadn’t. Now that you had effectively shielded yourself from the universe, you were less free and more lonely. 
And time continued to fly by, days of leaving the house only to attend class and coming back to your room only to collapse into sorrow. 
Johnny felt bad. At night, there were a couple of times where he hovered near your door and heard you sobbing, but he was too petty and spiteful to knock or check up on you. You had stung him too. 
The difference was that when Mike died, you did everything in your power to console Johnny. You gave him the space he needed, of course, but you opened the door for him to talk to you if he wanted and lent him a shoulder to cry on. You bought all his favorite snacks and encouraged him to go outside, even if it was just the backyard. 
Now, you were suffering your own loss, one of many but in a different manner. It wasn’t like you were a bereaved wife, but the agony wasn’t any less excruciating. 
Mark came over whenever he had the extra time to spare every week to check up on you, reminding you that you weren’t as alone as you thought you were, but you still didn’t want to confide in him about your emotions. You were afraid he would unintentionally make you feel more stupid. 
You were a little verklempt. Maybe more than. They said time was the healer of all wounds, but with every week spent without Jaehyun’s familiar musk in the air and dreamy voice in your ear, you felt less and less whole.   
What could you have done to keep him close to you, even if it was just for a little while longer? Maybe if you hadn’t ended on such cold, distant terms, moving on would be easier and you would be happier. You could’ve contentedly looked back on the memories of your last time together knowing you had done everything in your control to make it better. 
But you were worried that that was false. You were worried that Jaehyun was right and this ending was premature. 
It doesn’t matter, premature or not. It was going to end either way. There’s no point in delaying the inevitable, you reassured yourself in what you once believed was aggressively honest consolation, but you were starting to question how you could be so certain. 
You told yourself that with the burden of your immoral secrets weighing you down, you and Jaehyun could’ve never been a pair. You knew it wouldn’t last forever. You’d always known. You didn’t expect things to make it this far, but dammit you didn’t expect to have your fun cut short so soon either. 
It wasn’t fair. 
Sometimes you dreamt of what it would be like to hold Jaehyun in your arms without worries, without stolen touches and kisses when nobody was paying attention. 
You sat in the nook at your window, curled up into yourself, thinking only about Jaehyun. If it wasn’t for the stupid secret that unraveled far too damn quickly, maybe none of this would’ve ever happened. Maybe I would have you, with nothing to lose. Nothing to fear.
Fuck, you should’ve been happy. Given how unlucky in love you were, you doubted that you were intended to ever be happy. You hadn’t smiled in an eternity. But Jaehyun made you feel your peak of happiness, as if you had never been more euphoric with anybody else. 
More than once, you had been in love, but never like how you were in love with Jaehyun. Why did things have to become so complicated for the both of us? Why did reality hit like a fucking freight train?
If only you never fell for Jaehyun, never even gave him the time of day, then you wouldn’t be hurting. Your heart was being tortured. 
It took another day of stumbling into the kitchen with dark eye bags after yet another sleepless night of sobbing into your pillows, and Johnny ignoring your existence altogether while he poured himself a mug of coffee, but it finally occurred to you that you couldn’t relive this agonizing cycle over and over. 
You were sick of the pain and the dread. The insufferably cold distance when his bedroom was right down the hall from yours. You were sick of sniveling until you had no more tears left to weep, until you felt totally empty. 
Something had to give. 
To your surprise, and luck, Mark called you a few minutes after you strolled back into your room wordlessly, devising a plan you loathed yourself for not thinking of earlier. “Hey, bestie. Talk to me,” he said. “How you feeling?”
“Like judgment day came early for me, I guess,” you mumbled into the phone, collapsing onto your sheets. 
Mark sighed roughly. “Damn. I was hoping you would feel a little better this week. Johnny said you’re the world’s biggest hermit and it’s kinda depressing.”
That shocked you to your core, but you tried to play it off. “Oh, Johnny’s been talking about me?”
“Well, yeah. I’ve obviously been checking up on the both of you on the regular, and neither of you really wanna open up to me, but Johnny has less of an issue talking about you. Man, he still cares. He’s your brother.”
Your heart was sore. You wished he would tell you that himself. In your own home, to your own brother, you felt like a stranger. 
Tears burned your eyes, but you fought them and lilted playfully, “Oh, my beloved bestie…”
Mark knew that tone and interjected, “Fuck.”
You fought a tiny laugh and continued, “Would you mind doing your best friend a teeny tiny little favor?”
The suggestion alone sounded like bad news and Mark was questioning what he was about to get himself into, because no matter what came out his mouth first, you were his best friend. Of course, he was going to tell you “yes.”
Mark huffed, “Jesus. Ease up on the mischief. Johnny still wants to beat my ass too, you know? He asked me if I knew you were boning Jaehyun and of course I couldn’t lie. I’m a man of God.”
Because you didn’t feel like disputing that statement, you ignored his speech entirely and asked knowingly, “Your dad’s a cop, isn’t he?”
“I don’t like where this is going.”
Your voice was maybe a little hopeful. “Is there a way that he can look into the investigation of Mike’s overdose?”
Mark knew exactly why you were asking and even he was ashamed he hadn’t thought of the little plan. There was a brief pause before he said, “I’ll call you back.” And then he hung up. 
You were a little tense sitting there on your bed waiting around for a phone call. Not because you were worried about Mark not doing it, which would be ridiculous because you both wanted what was best for Johnny. It was because you were scared of not having a solution.
Deciding it would be useless to sit around antsily, you took a well-deserved nap after a restless twenty-four hours of no sleep. It would only do you good. Even if Mark didn’t have the answers you wanted, your grades would thank you.
Sleep came easy. Though they weren’t Jaehyun’s, it was nice and peaceful bunched beneath your blankets. You flipped your pillow over to the side that wasn’t stained with tears and let darkness take the wheel. 
Johnny peeked inside your room after an hour or two, wanting to talk to you, but when he saw you comfortably snoozing in your bed and obliviously clinging onto a spare pillow for dear life, he backed away and shut the door. He knew you needed the rest. 
You jolted awake when your phone started to ring vehemently beside your head, cursing yourself for not turning on Do Not Disturb before immediately remembering why you didn’t, and quickly lifting the phone to answer gruffly, “Hello?”
“Good news,” Mark started, sounding suspiciously chipper. “I had my dad pull some strings. And you’re gonna wanna hear this.”
Sitting up, you exclaimed in an impatient whisper, “Well?”
“Jeong Jaehyun is not a suspect, for one. There were witnesses that confirmed him giving Mike his fix was impossible. But for two, the case reopened a few months ago and they’re literally about to bust the guy that did it. They’re waiting on a warrant. You’ve got great timing,” Mark said. 
You rubbed your eyes in disbelief. “What the hell?”
“Isn’t this good news?”
“Yeah, it is,” you whispered, too shocked to know how to feel. You didn’t think the stupid plan would really work. “Thank you, Mark.”
Mark was quick to reassure you, “You don’t need to thank me. You’re my best friend and Johnny is like my brother-in-law in some weird way. See, that sounds weird. Anyways, when do you plan on telling him?”
You laughed at his rambling, but hummed when you thought about his question. “Uh, would today be a bad time?”
“The sooner the better.”
You sighed in relief. Then, you donned the loveliest tone you could muster, and asked sweetly, “Will you come with me please? I think your presence will really help.”
Mark retorted, “Should I bring the entire police force too?”
You rolled your eyes and begged, “Come on, Mark. You’re my bestie and I need you. He’s more mad with me than he is with you and plus you have the benefit of a credible father.”
“I was already on my way,” Mark chirped, jiggling his keys loudly before hanging up. 
You giggled. What would you do without that boy? He was your ride or die. 
Fifteen minutes later, Mark was pulling into your driveway and hopping out of the car. You let him in, locking the door behind your best friend and embracing him in the biggest hug of his life. You needed the comfort to wean off your nerves. 
The last thing you expected was for Johnny to come trudging down the stairs within the very next minute. 
You released Mark, turning to your brother, and you and Johnny said in unison, “Hey, I really need to talk to you.”
Johnny blinked in surprise. It almost seemed like he was mirroring you. Mark snickered to himself, mumbling something about you two obviously being related, but Johnny was chill and said, “You can go first.”
You heaved a breath. It was a shock that Johnny deliberately chose to speak to you for the first time, presumably without the intervening influence of your parents’ rebuttal on your behalf. “I don’t know how to say this, but first I wanted to tell you that I’m really sorry for sneaking around with Jaehyun behind your back. It was a really shitty thing for me to do.”
Johnny nodded along, listening. 
“But I fell in love with him,” you said without hesitation. “And I’m not going to ask you to accept us or anything. That’s your choice. But I thought there was something you should know that’s bigger than Jaehyun and I.”
Johnny looked tense, but he encouraged you to go on. “Okay.”
It felt like the whole world was watching you with Johnny’s eyes carefully set on your face, but you didn’t let it stop you from continuing, “It really wasn’t him that gave Mike his supply, and yes we have proof. Mark’s dad not only confirmed it wasn’t him, but they’re working on getting him into custody.”
Mark nodded, standing right behind you. Like he was vouching for you the same way you’d vouched for him all these years. “It’s true, Johnny. It wasn’t Jaehyun. It was some random shady dealer that preys on addicts at these parties. He has a track record.”
Johnny’s eyes flickered. “It really wasn’t Jaehyun?”
Mark shook his head. “He’s innocent, dude.”
Johnny fell silent for a long time. You could see him stiffening, penitent. “I don’t know what to say,” he whispered. “I feel like shit now.”
You snorted. “Don’t do that to yourself. Please. I’ve felt like shit enough these past few weeks for the both of us.”
“About that,” Johnny began, getting whiplash. The look on his face was gentle, remorseful, and he hated himself for being anything else to his sister. To the last person that deserved his misplaced frustration. “I wanted to tell you that I’m sorry for freezing you out.”
“Johnny…,” you trailed. 
Johnny shook his head. He needed you to let him say this. “I know you’ve had a rough few weeks, and though I haven’t exactly been pleased with you, you’re still my sister. The least I could’ve done was ask you ‘how are you doing?’ but I couldn’t even be bothered.”
You sighed loudly. That was true. And you’d be lying if you said it didn’t rub salt in the wounds. 
“I haven’t done a good job at showing it, but I care for you. You’re my only sibling and let’s be honest, I don’t think I’ll be getting another one,” Johnny said lightheartedly. 
You snickered. Damn right. You knew your parents would vehemently agree if they were here. They couldn’t be happier that all of their kids were adults. Well, maybe if you moved out. 
Johnny breathed in some air. A lot of mistakes had obviously been made on both parts and he was ready to put it all behind him. “I guess what I’m trying to say is that I forgot to do what was more important. Be your brother. And I’ll apologize for the rest of my life until you forgive me.”
“No need. I forgive you right now,” you whispered, simpering. 
Johnny stood there like a dumbass, hesitant. He didn’t feel like he deserved your forgiveness and would be spending the next weeks repairing his relationship with you, doing whatever it took. 
You took the lead, starting reluctantly, “Listen. I know Mike’s passing has been hard on you, Johnny. That’s why you want to protect me and everything else you love in your life, but I’m an adult. You need to let me take care of me.” 
A cloud of melancholy hung over Johnny and it wouldn’t leave. The grief was still fresh, as if Mike had died yesterday. 
You stepped forward, placing a hand on Johnny’s shoulder. “And you’re my big brother. I’ll obviously still give you a call when I’m going through a rough time. But you have to respect that I’m my own person.”
Johnny nodded. “Yeah, I know. I’m sorry about all that too. I’ll be better.”
“I will too,” you said, because the truth was that it was time the two of you started making efforts. 
Johnny grabbed you in his arms and pulled you into a gigantic bear hug. You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him close, and breathed easier in relief as weeks worth of wounds vanished. 
Wincing your eyes closed, you let yourself be content in your brother’s loving embrace for the first time in a while. You needed this. 
You could barely feel yourself breathe when Johnny started to hug you so tightly you thought he might accidentally squeeze the life out of you. “Alright, chill, Johnny. I think I might die,” you wheezed.
Johnny released you with a chuckle. You gasped for breath, shaking your head. Though the bone-crushing hug was appreciated nonetheless. 
Mark was content to be in the background and cheered in awe, “I’m so proud of you guys. You overcame your differences and reunited like real siblings. I knew it would happen eventually, but dude, this is refreshing to see.”
You nodded in agreement. One less broken relationship. But you had another one to salvage before it was too late. 
Then, Mark remembered Johnny was none too thrilled that he was complicit in you getting away with your sneaky little secret and asked, “Yo, Johnny, are we good?”
“No.”
Mark gawked. 
“I’m kidding,” Johnny said with a teasing lilt. “We’re good, man.”
Mark exhaled in relief. “Thank god.”
You smiled to yourself. You were happy, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was missing from your life. 
Johnny clamped a hand onto your shoulder and said, “Go get him.”
You gasped, but you didn’t question how he knew. He just did. It was a sibling thing. “You mean it?”
“Yes. You said it yourself. You love him, and I have no reason to come between that anymore. You deserve to be happy after dating asshole after asshole,” Johnny told you (sort of) kindly. 
You snickered, and grabbed your keys from your pockets. “Pray for me. He’s not gonna be thrilled.”
Johnny shook his head, disagreeing. “Yeah, he will. Tell him that I’m very sorry, but the threat to kick his ass still stands if he fucks with you.”
“I’ll be sure to let him know,” you deadpanned, heading for the door. 
The drive to Jaehyun’s house was inexplicably anxious. You could still think, but every thought went by at the speed of a thousand miles per second. And it didn’t help that you were overthinking the entire situation, dreading the endless amount of “what ifs.”
For fuck’s sake, you didn’t even know if he would be there. You were showing up unannounced, uninvited. What if he had already found another woman to keep him company in your forgettable absence?
Then, you were at his front doorstep. And you had no time to vividly imagine every possible scenario, because Jungkook answered your knocks and you could only barely see inside. 
You politely greeted him in a small voice and asked, “Can I come inside?”
Jungkook’s eyes narrowed and he didn’t waste any time in snapping, “Why should I let you in after you broke my friend’s heart?”
“Because I’m sorry and I want to set things right with him,” you said, matching his lack of hesitation. 
Yugyeom hurried over and took the lead, widening the door for you to enter and whining dramatically, “Oh, god. Please come in. Fix him. Do your womanly magic and bring him back to life. I’m sick of his brooding ass.”
You wanted to laugh, but you hated the thought of causing Jaehyun all this suffering. If it was anything like the kind you’d been through lately, you knew he was in a tough spot. 
Thanking Yugyeom, you made a beeline for the stairs, rushing up them like Jaehyun would somehow know it was you approaching them and slip away before you could get the chance to apologize. 
You knocked on Jaehyun’s door, but you guessed he really wasn’t expecting you to come over, because he shouted exasperatedly, “Jesus, Yugyeom. Fuck off.”
“It’s not Yugyeom,” you called back. “It’s me.”
All you could hear was silence. Then there was a shuffle, and a few moments later the door clicked unlocked and Jaehyun was standing before you in all his glory. “What are you doing here?”
“I walked to talk,” you replied timidly, struggling to maintain eye contact. 
Irritated, Jaehyun huffed, “We already had a conversation.” Though the truth was that he was glad you were here, standing in front of him again. He was borderline miserable without you in his life. 
The reminder of your final exchange with Jaehyun made you wince in shame. “I know, but I wanted to apologize. Won’t you at least hear me out?”
Jaehyun turned to return to his bed, reminding sharply, “You’re the one that walked away. I was willing to at least try to make us work, but you didn’t even want to do that.”
“Because I thought it would be useless,” you admitted, giving chase and shutting the door behind yourself. “But I don’t anymore. You were right. I should’ve fought for us and I regret not doing it earlier.”
Jaehyun might’ve acted like he wasn’t listening, being totally dismissive, but he definitely noticed your specific use of language. “You said ‘earlier.’ What do you mean?”
You had a beaming smile on your face as you admitted, “I mean, I talked to Johnny about us. I managed to get him to listen to me and proved your innocence. Thank god Mark’s father is a cop.”
Jaehyun softened. “You did all that? Why?”
“Because you’re worth fighting for,” you whispered tenderly, looking at Jaehyun like he was your entire universe. 
Jaehyun was so close to accepting that he would never have anyone look at him that way again. After a heartbreak, the feeling of being unlovable always loomed over his head and you were no different. But dammit if he wasn’t tired of the doubts. 
Tentatively, you came towards Jaehyun completely, sitting beside him on his mattress that you missed almost as much as you missed him. “I didn’t mean it, when I said I wish I never met you.”
Jaehyun almost laughed. That was the least hurtful thing to leave your lips. “I know. You were upset. And you had every right to be.”
You frowned, suspicious of how calm he was. You half expected him to lash out. “Stop being understanding.” 
“If you’re expecting me to be angry, I can’t do anything for you. I’ve already spent the past few weeks in that stage of grief.”
You blinked. It was as if he could read your mind. “Where are you at now?”
Jaehyun was totally indifferent when he told you, “Bargaining.”
“Funny. Me too,” you sighed. If only you had been more open-minded, you could have spared you and Jaehyun all this worthless misery. 
You noticed that Jaehyun said nothing, but he looked a little in his head. And he was somewhere up there, scolding himself for letting him be a fool for you, then thinking, I couldn’t resist loving you. Sue me. 
The emotion was finally surfacing on his face. You could see all of it now. The distress and the love and the heartache. You smirked, thinking to yourself, He’s my little damsel now. 
The grin on your lips was fleeting and it disappeared by the time you grabbed Jaehyun’s hands in yours and he peered down at you in surprise. “I’m sorry,” you told him softly. “I thought you were crazy and hopeless for thinking we could be together. Now, I see that you didn’t want to quit until you’d exhausted your resources. And I forced your hand. I’m sorry.”
Jaehyun squeezed your hand. “It’s okay. I understand where you were coming from. You were trying to make things as painless as possible because you genuinely thought we didn’t stand a chance against fate.”
“And somehow I made shit ten times more painful,” you murmured, ashamed. 
“Like I said, I understand where you were coming from,” Jaehyun said, being gentler than he should’ve. 
You shook your head. That meant nothing. “But do you forgive me?”
Jaehyun gazed into your pained eyes. It still broke him, but he was starting to lick the wound clean. Things were changing. “Yes. I forgive you, baby.”
Your heart softened at the pet name. You never expected to fall for Jaehyun. Not Jaehyun or his precious smile and adorable face. Not the little things he’d say that made you feel as if you would burst with love. 
But you did fall for him, and all those little things that made him himself. And you didn’t want to be without them ever again. 
“I’m tired of loving each other behind closed doors. I want to be seen with you. I want to go to museums and look at really abstract paintings that you’ll tell me are meaningful for whatever reason. I want to explore the city with you and visit shops I’d never think to go to otherwise.”
Jaehyun was sporting a beaming smile. “You said you love me.”
“I haven’t said it before?”
Jaehyun huffed, “No. Not even once.”
You held his face, cradling it just shy of yours, and confessed, “Then, I love you. I love you. I love you so much, Jaehyun. I don’t know what to do without you.”
“I love you too,” Jaehyun said, leaning in to mumble the tiny confession into your neck, and reminded of how desperately he craved the warmth of your skin. 
You were grinning so hard your cheeks were hurting. 
“Don’t leave me ever again. Don’t ever let me go. Never,” Jaehyun instructed you sharply, and although it was partly muffled, you heard him loud and clear.
“I won’t,” you told him, kissing his forehead. “If you play me that song you made me on your guitar.”
Jaehyun blinked up at you in surprise. “You liked it?”
“I think I’ve cried to it, like, a million times,” you admitted unabashedly. 
Jaehyun’s jaw went slack for only a split second, then he quickly recovered and leapt up to grab his guitar from its resting position in the corner of his room. 
A smile danced onto your lips as he held the guitar, strumming to the beautiful song he’d written with only his insurmountable adoration for you in mind, and the pining nature of the lyrics made you realize that the yearning was over. You were Jaehyun’s. And Jaehyun was yours. 
Losing Jaehyun, one of the few people you loved depthlessly, was like losing the last person you had. You didn’t know how to be without him. And you didn’t have to learn, because you never would be without him again. 
You watched him attentively, beaming from ear to ear, taking in his beautiful smile and soft voice, and familiar heady cologne. And you thought to yourself, There’s nothing to dislike about this guy. 
2K notes · View notes
kaciidubs · 2 months
Text
Ass or Tits?
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❣ Summary: The question of 'ass or tits' never truly mattered when you had a group of men who loved all of you. ❣  ❣ Word Count: 6.4k ❣ Warnings: Poly! OT8 x Reader, smut, humor, fluff, light Dom/Sub dynamics, creampie(s), squirting, cum play, referenced after care ❣  ❣ Female! Reader [No use of Y/N] | You/Your pronouns ❣  ❣ Additional Tags: Usual first name + pet name references for the members, Reader is referred to as Baby, Mommy, Miss, Princess, Good Girl, Bunny, Bub, Kitten, Jagi, Noona, lightly edited ❣ Stray Kids Masterlist ❣ General Masterlist
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“Hey, Hyune?”
The artist hummed as he sketched away at his desk, “Yeah?”
“What do you like better, ass or tits?”
He froze, dropping the charcoal pencil as your words ran through his head on repeat.
“Your ass or tits?”
There was no way he was about to get caught in an infamous partner discourse, not after years of being immune to other futile debates brought on by a certain freckle-faced fairy.
You scoffed out a laugh, rolling onto your stomach from your resting place on his bed, “I mean, I’d hope you’d be talking about my ass or tits, Hyunjin.”
Hyunjin whipped his head toward you, eyebrows pushing to his hairline, “W-Well how am I supposed to know!?  This is one of the questions every person dreads! You’re expecting me to pick one or the other on one of my favorite people in the world? What then? Are you going to ask me ‘acrylic or charcoal’? Because I’ll have you know, those are two very different mediums and-”
“Hyunjin, baby - it’s just a question!” Stifling a chuckle, you shook your head, “It’s not like I’m going to ban you from sex if you pick something I didn’t expect - I’m just curious, you know? All of you have different preferences and even though after two years I can kind of make a good guess, I wanna hear it from the sources.”
His shoulders relaxed, visibly slumping in his chair and running his cleaner hand through his short hair, “You’re stressing me out, muse! Why didn’t you lead with that?!”
You rolled your eyes, “I’m so sorry, my little drama queen - now, pick!”
Dark eyes scanned your figure, his head cocking to the side and if you looked closer you could’ve seen the gears turning in his brain.
“Mm… Tits.”
“I knew it.”
“Wha- What’s that supposed to mean?! Are you calling me basic?”
“No, my prince, I’m calling you predictable,” getting off of the bed, you walked toward him and pinched his cheek lovingly, “you grope Changbin’s chest like it’s your job, and there’s rarely a moment your hand isn’t on my chest when we’re cuddling. Now, go wash up - we’re meeting in Chris’s room.”
With a quick kiss to the crown of his head, you walked out of his room with your phone in hand, thumbs typing away in your group chat.
|❣️: Chris’s room asap 💋
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“So… Is there a reason why we were summoned? To Chan’s room, no less?” Minho hummed inquisitively, picking up a small souvenir from the eldest’s dresser and turning it in his hands.
“If this is an intervention about League, I swear I didn’t mean to yell that night - I honestly didn’t think anyone heard me!” Came Felix’s whine of defense, already making himself a home on the California king bed, “Seungmin was throwing the game on purpose and I was losing against this stupid-”
“That’s crazy.” Seungmin gaped, faux shock on his face as he purposefully rolled on top of the Aussie, a muffled groan getting caught in the midst of it all. “I told you not to put too much trust in me!”
“Lixie, hate to break it to you, but this definitely isn’t an intervention, but we’ll come back to that point later.” Clapping your hands, you took in the rest of the members who either piled onto the bed, doubled up in Chris’s computer chair, or stood against the door frame. “Anyways - I called you guys here because I have a question!”
“I’d peel a pineapple for you if you asked.”
The room went silent as all eyes shot to Jisung who was currently seated in Minho’s lap, a triumphant smile on his pretty lips.
“I… No, Jisung, it’s not that question, but I’ll remember your answer when I do ask.” Willing away the confused looks sent your way, you cleared your throat, “The actual question is; which do each of you like better - my ass, or my tits?”
The room broke into an uproar, various voices speaking over one another as some questioned the validity of the question while others argued their respective points.
“Noona, you really think we can just pick one thing to like about you?”
Minho scoffed, “I can - her ass, easily.”
“Oh… Shit, you’re right.”
“Jeongin?! Weren’t you just saying you couldn’t pick?!”
“Hyung, that was before I was reminded of how her ass looks in her pajama shorts - you can’t tell me that’s not the hottest sight.”
“I can because I chose her tits!”
Felix laughed, holding his hand up for an air high-five, “I was gonna pick her tits too, Jinnie!”
“This is the stupidest conversation I’ve ever heard,” Seungmin mumbled, throwing an arm over his face, though it did nothing to cover the redness of his ears.
“Bunny, you know you’re more than just your body parts, right?”
You nodded enthusiastically, “Binnie, I’m well aware - I’m just asking for the fun of it, it’s nothing deeper than that!”
Changbin hummed, fluffy curls shifting with the movement, “In that case, I’m team ass - it’s just so cute and round and-” He lifted his hand, squeezing the air as if it were your ass cheeks with a dreamy sigh, “-god, I love it.”
“Okay but, what if we can’t pick?” Jisung piped up, a soft pout puffing his cheeks, “There’s no way I can just choose one - look at you, you’re fucking sexy, Jagi!”
“The oral fixation says boobs, Han, there’s no way out of it.”Felix deadpanned from his place on the bed, his head turned to nail the man with a mischievous glint, “Trust me, I know.”
The latter’s eyes flicked to your t-shirt, tracing the outline of your breasts in the loose fabric with ease. “Yeah… Yeah, you’re right - her tits are amazing.”
“Alright, Chan and Seungmin, you two are the only ones left - make your choice!” Hyunjin demanded lightly, gesturing his hand toward your body from his seat next to you, “Tits or ass? Ass or tits? Which one is it?”
“I’m not playing this game,” the youngest of the two mumbled, his position unchanged.
“Oh, come on, Seungmin! She said it herself, it’s just for fun, she won’t take any offense to what you choose,” Felix prodded, wiggling his body next to his boyfriend, “and we won’t make fun of you if you pick something we didn’t expect.”
“Yeah, puppy,” reaching down, you threaded your fingers through his black hair, “whatever you pick is fine with me, and if anyone makes fun of you for it, they won’t get anything from me for a week.”
That roused a small chuckle from him as he moved his arm, looking up at you with soft eyes, “Really? You think you could go that long?”
“For my Seungmin? Of course. Now, which is it, baby?”
His lips quivered, struggling between forming words and keeping his solitude until he finally murmured, “I like your thighs.”
“That wasn’t even an-”
You quieted Hyunjin with a glare, “Finish that sentence and that’s the only thing you’ll be finishing near me, Hwang.”
“Aw- I wanna change my answer, her thighs are fucking amazing too!” Jisung all but wailed, practically having a full on meltdown, “When you’re eating her out and she wraps them around your head like earmuffs - they’re so warm but you can’t hear her moans when she does it so it’s just a horrible, beautiful curse!”
“No changing your answer, Sungie, you’re still team tits.” 
Now, all the attention was directed to the only one left; Chris, still leaning against the doorway of his room with an embarrassed flush on his face - nothing preparing him for this conversation that pulled him from the sanctity of his laundry run.
“Well, Chris? What do you like?” You had to bite your lip to keep from laughing, knowing full and well that everyone already knew what their boyfriend would pick.
“Ah- You’re seriously going to make me say it?!”
“Come on, Chan, we all said ours, no matter how obvious,” Changbin sent a side eye in an unbothered Minho’s direction, “some of ours may have been.”
The eldest sighed, dropping his head before bringing it up once again, “I like your ass, baby.”
Scoffing, Felix crawled across Seungmin to get closer to you, “I don’t understand how you guys can pick her ass over these,” his hand quickly found home over one of your breasts, gently squeezing the mound over your shirt and earning a shocked gasp in return, “like, how could you not want to suffocate in them?”
“Especially with how sensitive her nipples are?” Hyunjin chimed in, claiming your other breast with his larger hand, jiggling and watching the ripples from your shirt in response.
“Oh my god- The sound she makes when you suck on them?” The bed dipped with a new weight, Jisung making his way onto the bed, causing Jeongin to crawl over and straddle Seungmin. “You guys are seriously missing out.”
Changbin groaned, “It’s not like we don’t like them, we just love her ass more, there’s a difference, Ji.”
In the meantime, you couldn’t help the small sighs of pleasure escaping you as the duo continued to fondle you over your shirt, Jisung taking the hem into his hands.
“Can we, Jagi?”
You nodded happily, “You can, Sungie.”
Hyunjin and Felix pulled back as he lifted your shirt up and off, tossing it off the edge of the bed without a care in the world - why would he, when your tits were on display for him and the men that admired them?
“Why don’t we all take the chance to really admire our favorite parts about you, my muse?” 
Hyunjin’s sultry voice easily floated through the air, the hidden implications more than enough for the atmosphere to ignite with lust.
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“Are you ready, angel?”
You blinked up at Felix with dazzling eyes, a small smile tugging at your lips, “Of course, Lixie.”
In the background, you could hear the familiar sounds of panted breaths and the rustling of clothing, but you wouldn’t dare to turn your head from the scene in front - or, rather, above you. 
Hyunjin took the role of straddling your torso while Felix and Jisung kneeled at the sides of your head without even a hint of the clothing that once covered their bodies.
“Innie, can you pass me the lube?”
Jeongin broke from Seungmin’s lips with a groan, narrowing his eyes, “Why can’t you just spit on it, Hyung? I’m kind of in the middle of something here.”
“Because I asked you to? If I felt like spitting I would’ve done it already,” Hyunjin spoke matter-of-factly, catching the glimpse of Jisung guiding his dick into your mouth from the corner of his eye, “don’t be a smartass!”
“Smarta-”
The youngest was unceremoniously flipped onto his back, the black haired singer reaching into the nightstand and tossing over a bottle of lube with a huff.
“Seriously, it was never that big of a deal, you brat.”
Snatching up the tube, Hyunjin wasted no time in squeezing a generous amount between the valley of your breasts, humming out a small apology when you jumped at the cold gel on your skin.
“Forget what I said,” Jisung moaned softly, watching the way your cheeks puffed and hollowed with each drag of his cock, “your mouth is my favorite part.”
Pulling off of him with a pop, you pumped him with your right hand and tossed him a teasing smirk, “You’re still team tits, Sungie.”
Turning your head, you eagerly welcomed Felix’s dick with an eager tongue lapping at the precum beading the tip before taking him in one fell swoop.
“That doesn’t take away from the fact that your mouth is fucking amazing, sunshine.” Felix groaned, bringing a hand to cup your cheek as he lightly thrust into your leisurely bobs.
“Especially for the fact that we’re here for these.” Hyunjin’s lube covered hands squeezed your breasts around his length, the swells positively shining as they sandwiched his cock in an unparalleled warmth.
It wasn’t long until an unplanned rhythm was found between the four of you; alternating between blowjobs and handjobs for the sunshine twins while a certain artist busied himself with a simple rhythm of humping your chest.
In the meantime, Changbin managed to swap positions with Minho for the chair, sitting the second eldest in his lap and littering slow kisses paired with sharp nips along the length of his neck while he watched the show before them.
“Chan, you’re not going to just stand there the whole time, are you?” Minho mused with a raised eyebrow, noting the way the eldest hadn’t even moved a muscle from his spot near the door.
Chris hesitated for a moment before shaking his head, “No, but I’m doing laundry - I don’t wanna get sidetracked and forget about it in the wash, you know?”
There was a disinterested hum followed by a huff he knew all too well, and he found himself pushing off of the doorway with a breathless laugh.
“You have such a way with words, you know that?”
Smirking, Minho shrugged, “I know, it’s a talent.”
Standing in front of the two - and inadvertently blocking the once flawless view - Chris planted his hands on the armrests of the chair before leaning down to catch Minho's lips in a slow kiss, just to part a moment later to do the same with Changbin over his shoulder.
“A-Ah- Tighten your hand a little, Jagi.”
“You have hands,” Hyunjin panted, licking his lips as he watched his pink tip repeatedly disappear and reappear, “help her out- fuck, Lix…”
The blond hummed against his neck, licking at a blossoming hickey, “‘M sorry, just feels so good.”
“Hyune, move your hand a bit.”
Abiding the request, Hyunjin slid his hand to the outer swell of your breast while Jisung licked his fingers before easily finding their way to your nipple, gently rolling the nub between his finger and thumb.
The moan you let out was instantly muffled by Felix’s cock, which in turn made him grit out a shivering groan, “F-Fuck, I’m gonna come soon.”
“M-Me too,” Jisung nodded frantically, eyes trained on the way his hand enveloped yours as he fucked your fist, “gonna paint those pretty tits of yours, Jagi.”
It only took a handful of strokes before Felix was drawing from your mouth with frantic breaths, Jisung slipping from your soiled hand to take over the rest of the job as they both aimed for your chest.
“God, look at how gorgeous they look wrapped around Jinnie’s dick.”
“They were just made to have a dick between them, huh?”
You groaned helplessly, bringing your hands to cover Hyunjin’s and squish your breasts together more, “C-Come on, show mommy how much you love her tits.”
If there was one thing to get them to fall, it was that title - and, like a harp string being plucked, they both came with a sharp gasp and a guttural groan, cum spraying across your breasts and a few drops even landing on your fingers.
Hyunjin shivered above you, eyebrows drawing together with the silver eyebrow piercing catching the glint of the light.
“I can see you’re close, Hyune,” squeezing his hands lightly, you watched as Jisung and Felix flocked to him, hands wandering his chest while lips danced along his shoulders and neck, “come for Miss, my prince, make a mess of me.”
A choked moan fell past his lips as his hips stuttered before he lifted himself onto his knees and came against your breasts, his cum joining the mess of the other two with ease and creating an intricate pattern of white along your skin.
Jisung dipped down to lick a fat stripe through the cum, collecting as much as he could onto his tongue before pulling Felix in for a beautifully messy kiss above you - then repeated the process with Hyunjin, leaving you in a state of horny awe.
“Seungmin, you’re up next.” Felix called happily, swiping his thumb along your breast before presenting it to your lips and watched as you eagerly licked it clean. “You’re so kinky.”
You stifled a laugh, giving the pad of his thumb a soft kiss, “You’re one to talk.”
The trio moved away to make room for the thigh connoisseur, watching as he untangled himself from Jeongin and shuffled between your legs - your pajama shorts and underwear having already met the same fate as your t-shirt moments ago.
“I… I don’t think I’m gonna last long,” he mumbled quietly, a strawberry blush turning his ears as he nudged the leaking head of his cock against the plush of your inner thigh. “Might’ve pushed it a bit too close with Innie.”
“That’s more than okay, pup,” reaching your hand out, you grabbed the lube before handing it to him, “if it bothers you, you can always have a round two later, okay?”
Seungmin nodded dutifully, taking the lube from you while tapping your legs, prompting you to lift them both and lean them on his chest; pouring a generous amount of lube in the palm of his hand to coat around his length.
With a bit of maneuvering, he had both of your calves resting on his right shoulder with his dick nestled in the tight space between your thighs and just above your pelvis - if you focused hard enough, you could feel the heat of his balls against the lips of your pussy.
“M-Mm, fuck…” Wrapping his right arm around your legs, his left hand went down to grip the outside of your thigh, squeezing the flesh as he jutted his hips forward with a quiet moan.
You watched on as he fucked your thighs in quick, sharp thrusts, brown eyes fogged and unfocused as he began to chase the high that was undoubtedly close.
“Good puppy, my good puppy - love my thighs so much, hm? Maybe one of these days I should get you to hump one, would you like that?”
You could clock the faint twinkle in his eye from a mile away, catching the subtle pout of his lips as his body rocked against yours without rhyme but with the sole reason of finishing.
His blush now crawled across his face, tinting the apples of his cheeks as his eyes found yours, “Really?”
Humming, you flexed your thighs, “Really, pup, I’d love to watch you ride me.”
He whimpered, blunt nails digging into your skin as his head dropped to nip at your ankle, “W-Want that, bub - want it so bad.”
“Then it’s yours, Minnie. I’m all yours.”
The next thrust forward had ropes of white streaking up the length of your stomach, breathless moans hidden behind firmly pressed lips as Seungmin shook against your legs, tensing and shaking with each wave until he finally relaxed with a shaky breath.
“You okay, pup?”
Nodding, he gave you a soft smile, “Yeah, but you better not forget your promise.”
You laughed, accepting a kiss to your ankle as a parting gift as he moved away from you and into the arms of a lounging Hyunjin - the comment of him being “disgustingly sweaty”, and Hyunjin’s response of “Then get off of me!”, not going unnoticed in the process.
Turning your gaze to the ceiling, a knowing smile grew on your lips, “Do I even have to ask who’s going next?”
“Nope!” Sliding into view came your darling bread, a smug grin on his lips as his face hovered over yours, “You don’t even have to guess, I’m already here.”
Bringing your hand to his jaw, you lightly scratched your nails under his chin, “Of course you are, maknae - so, how do you want me? Doggy style? Reverse cowgirl? Some secret third position I have yet to learn?”
Judging from the sparkle of his eyes the instant the second option left your lips, he had his decision already cut out and you laughed at his inability to be discreet.
“Alright, I guess this is to make up for slacking on leg day, isn’t it?”
Jeongin rolled onto his back, watching as you straddled him with ease, “You’d have to ask Changbin Hyung about that, Noona - you were the one who suggested it anywa- ah!”
You didn’t need to waste time in teasing yourself as your hand wrapped around the base of his cock, lining it up with your severely neglected pussy before sinking down in one fell swoop - a satisfied moan leaving your lips.
“O-Oh god, maybe this wasn’t a good idea…”
“Oh? And what makes you say that, baby?”
Of course, you already knew the answer judging from the way his calves tensed, his toes curled and - less externally obvious - the way his dick twitched inside of your warm walls.
“Noona, please-”
“Have a little too much fun with Minnie, huh? Got yourself all excited while you were waiting?” Clicking your tongue, you rolled your hips teasingly, “I bet you were touching yourself while Seungmin was having his turn, weren’t you, baby boy?”
He whined, tossing his head back with a groan, “Just- Just give me a minute, I swear I’ll last!”
Humming, you waited a few seconds before shaking your head, “Sorry, Innie, if you come early then that’s just how it is - just lay back and enjoy the view, okay? This is what you wanted, remember?”
With no other choice, the sounds of your joined moans soon filled the room as you rode him with one goal on your mind.
“Fuck, look at that view…” Neither one of you were aware of Changbin’s sudden presence beside the bed as he leaned beside Jeongin, basking in the sight of your ass jiggling with each bounce. “I’ll never get over it.”
“I-” Jeongin whimpered, short huffs of breaths escaping him, “T-This is the first time-”
“-she’s ridden reverse cowgirl?! IN-ah, what were you waiting for?!”
“It’s not that he was waiting,” you laughed breathlessly, though the clench of your pussy earned a moan in its wake, “he was just too excited to try everything else that normal positions were at the bottom of his list.”
“What a shame, wasting his chance like this.”
Lifting your head, you were now met with the sight of Minho directly in front of you, keen eyes unblinking as he took you in with a smirk.
“Is it a waste, Min?” Slowing your bounces to languid strokes, your head tilted prettily to the side, “I’d like to think of it as an introduction to what future chances would be like.”
This time, his smirk reached his eyes, brown irises sparkling with amusement, “You naughty kitten.” His hand cupped your cheek as he dipped down to steal a kiss, nipping at your bottom lip in the process.
You preened at the sensation, but the moan that followed came from the firm grip on the swell of your ass cheek, the hand and the pressure stemming from two different forms of familiarity.
“See? What did I tell you?” Changbin smirked, squeezing his hand over Jeongin’s to tighten his grip on your ass, “You can watch all you want, but the real fun is in touching.”
The younger groaned out a desperate sound, “‘M g-gonna-”
At the hint of his confession, you forfeited the feeling of Minho’s lips on yours for the opportunity to go back to bouncing on Jeongin’s dick without abandon, fisting the sheets to distract from the unyielding burn in your thighs.
“-a-ah- p-please- N-Noona, oh god, I-” He cut himself off with a choked gasp, hips canting as his orgasm took him by storm.
A hum of satisfaction vibrated past your lips as his warmth filled you, stilling to spare him the overstimulation for the time being. “Feels so good baby, you never disappoint.”
Once the incessant twitching of his cock died down, you lifted yourself off of his lap, shivering at the sensation of his load slowly seeping out of you and dribbling back onto his spent dick.
“So,” you breathed, looking between the two men currently surrounding you and shooting a glance toward Chris, “who’s next?”
The answer to that question was a very smug Minho, excitement thrumming through your veins as he nodded his head toward the edge of the bed - the silent command leading you to find yourself to where you currently were now.
“Minho!”
Your nails clawed at the sheets, the mattress rocking along with your body as the black haired man fucked into you like a man possessed.
“It’s only fair that someone gives you your first orgasm of the night, kitten,” he drawled, thumbs digging into the small of your back as he held you impossibly tighter, “why wouldn’t I make sure that it’s me giving it to you?”
Your body couldn’t decide between attempting to run away from his powerful thrusts, or submit yourself to the fiery pleasure that hoped to consume you, until you felt the warmth of his hands sliding up your back, past your shoulder blades, and along your forearms.
Like a slab of clay for him to mold, he maneuvered your arms behind your back and pinned them with one hand, the other going back to its home on your hip as he aimed long, precise thrusts to a spot he was well acquainted with.
The side of your face melted into the mattress, tears of pleasure blurring your vision, as any sound you’d hoped to make dissolved into hiccuped breaths and encouraging mewls.
Minho grunted, clenching his jaw as he felt the telltale signs of your orgasm begin to shine through, “That’s it, kitten, give it to me.”
Your legs trembled, pussy fluttering and clenching with each passing second until your body tensed with a cry of his name falling from your spit-shined lips.
He welcomed the new wave of arousal coating his dick and adding to the already sloppy glide of your cunt, wet slaps sounding through the room as he fucked you through your high with a breathless chuckle.
“There it is.”
Grip tightening on your wrists, his hips met yours a number of times before he pulled out with a gasp, jacking himself off with his free hand and coming along the curve of your ass and thighs - much to your delirious chagrin.
“Why…?” You whined breathlessly, wiggling your hips for further emphasis - not that he needed it.
Minho released your wrists to land a swift smack to your unsoiled ass cheek, a satisfied smile curling his lips from the squeak you let out. “Because I wanted to - you still have two people to fill you the way you wish, kitten, let’s not get too greedy, hm?”
There was a slew of giggles and chuckles from the onlookers, and you tried your best to send them your best glare, though your efforts were in vain as you felt a pair of hands caressing your thighs.
“Get up on the bed for Binnie, bunny.”
You obeyed with no hesitation, already knowing which position you would be set in for the remainder of the session as you turned to tuck a pillow under your chin, bringing your knees up and out to sit your hips high in the air and dip your spine into a fine arch - pretty and presentable.
“God,” Changbin groaned, scrambling to fill in the space behind you as fast as he could, “I’ve been waiting so long to get you like this, bunny, you would not believe.” His firm hands instantly went to cup your ass, spreading your cheeks further and sucking in a breath at your glistening hole. “So fucking pretty…”
“Binnie.”
Your insistent, warning whine hadn’t fallen on deaf ears, and he wasted no time in notching the fat head of his dick to your fluttering walls.
“Alright, bunny, deep breaths for me.”
Of course, you already knew the drill, having grown custom to the mind numbingly delicious stretch only he was capable of giving you, but the reminder never failed to stir the swarm of butterflies in your stomach.
With a deep inhale, your slow exhale was followed by him sinking past your walls, each inch slowly stretching your cunt around his girth.
It wasn’t long until he was fully seated inside of you, and with warm hands kneading the flesh of your ass, he drew his hips back before snapping them forward, punching a moan from the depths of your lungs.
Even if you were still tingling with the aftershocks of your orgasm, you were still begging for more with each whimpered moan and choked gasp as your body seemed to melt deeper into the arch you had set.
“Look at you, can’t get enough of us, can you?” Changbin goaded, though his tone was soft and warm, “It’s okay, we can’t get enough of you either, bunny.” He lifted his hand to slap the swell of your ass, before gripping the flesh, “You and this ass of yours.”
A shiver shot down your spine as his hand slipped, his thumb caressing the inside of your cheek and just barely grazing your asshole - a temptation that had shown its face among a few of the boys before, but was never fully dwelled on by them nor yourself.
“I’m curious, bunny,” he hummed, slowing his fast thrusts for laxed, deeper ruts, “would you ever let one of us use this other pretty hole of yours?” Sliding his hand further, he pressed his thumb against the tight ring just enough to burn the fantasy into a possible reality, “Would you let Binnie fuck this pretty ass?”
You nodded frantically, your hands gripping onto the poor pillow below you, “Y-Yes! Yes! I-It’s all yours, Binnie - want it so bad!”
His signature, triumphant laugh filled the room as he tossed a glance to his boyfriends, “Hear that? I get first dibs.”
“You can’t just ask her questions like that!” Jeongin groaned, a stern pout set on his lips, “She agrees to anything if you fuck her long enough!”
“Yeah, how else do you think Felix managed to stay up late enough for his Apex tournament that one time?”
“How am I always being brought up here?!” The blond scoffed as he lightly shoved Hyunjin, crossing his arms over his lithe chest, “But, I mean, yeah - three orgasms can get you a pretty good deal.”
Jisung hummed inquisitively, before narrowing his eyes, “But did you win?”
“He won,” Minho huffed, a smirk curving the corners of his lips, “and he gave her head the next morning, I could hear her moans from the kitchen.”
Muted thumps of the headboard began to grow in frequency until a low groan interrupted the riveting conversation - Changbin hunching over your body as his muscles tensed, shivering while he filled you with his seed.
“God, fuck,” he hissed, rolling his hips against yours while your walls fluttered around him, clenching from the orgasm that was just moments away. “You’re too good to us, you know that, bunny?”
You huffed out a breathless laugh, stifling a moan as his hands massaged your lower back out of its arch for a moment of respite, “I-I’ve been told once or twice,” turning your head, sultry eyes landed on the final man of the hour, “but you guys are worth it.”
Chris flushed under the heat of your gaze, just barely catching Changbin’s teasing “Don’t break her back, Chan.”, as he climbed onto the bed and took the space previously occupied by the rapper.
“Think you can stay in this position one more time, baby?” He mused softly, caressing the warm skin of your back before gliding his hand down to the curve of your ass.
Without answering him, you spread your knees and tucked yourself into a deeper arch, wiggling your hips to further entice the man behind you.
“Yeah,” Seungmin chuckled, lazily crossing his arms over his chest, “he’s blowing her back out, it’s over.”
As much as you wanted to turn your head to respond, your train of thought flew out the window as you felt the bed dip slightly, before the pressure of Chris’s blunt tip nudged against your cunt, bumping against your clit tauntingly.
“Alright, princess,” he breathed, dragging the tip along your slit, “why don’t you give them a show for daddy, hm?”
This time, your reply came in the form of an elongated moan as he sunk into your heat, the stretch coming with ease after Changbin’s size, yet the length making your toes curl.
“Oh, god-”
There was no opportunity for a pause, not when you were miles beyond prepped and ready; the orgasm Minho previously gave you, paired with the second one Changbin gently guided you toward yet kept from tipping over, leaving you with a bubble that was ready to burst within minutes.
“F-Fuck, daddy,” you keened, pressing your hips into his own in feigned hopes of getting him impossibly deeper, “please, please fuck me.”
Chris ran his tongue over his bottom lip, eyes glued to the way your pussy wrapped around his length, as he nodded, “Hands, baby.”
A shiver of excitement shot down your spine and you complied almost immediately, using the pillow to keep your head propped up as you worked your arms behind your back, the warmth of his hand easily finding your wrists and pinning them.
With you set up to his liking, he slowly pulled out just about halfway before driving his hips forward with force, the added balance of his right foot planted on the bed adding to his power.
He was definitely going to blow your back out.
It didn’t take long for him to find the perfect rhythm, nor did it take long for the room to be filled with your high pitched moans and gasps, and the slap of your ass against his thighs - the ripples slowly, but surely, turning your limbs to jelly.
“Our perfect girl,” he gritted out, the grip on your hip and wrists tightening marginally, “letting us admire you for the beautiful gem you are - take turns with this gorgeous body of yours.”
It wasn’t news that they were constantly in awe of you, with and without your clothes on - you were the brightest star in their night sky, you were the puzzle piece they finally found to complete their lives separately and together - and they never failed to remind you of how loved you were.
“But, you know you’re so much more than that, don’t you, princess?” Chris tilted his head to catch a glimpse of your face, eyes fogged and unfocused, lips parted with endless moans tumbling through, “You’re so much more than just your body to us.”
“C-Chris!” You managed to choke out between a whimper, his loving sentiments paired with the unyielding strokes of his cock to your deepest, sweetest parts turning your brain to mush, though your body responded in the best way it could.
He hissed at the telltale clench of your walls, a shiver running down his spine as he nodded mindlessly, “Already? It’s alright, baby, you can come for me - don’t hold back, yeah? Give it to me - give it all to me.”
Your body reacted faster than your mind could at his command, your orgasm barrelling toward you at a speed that had your hands balling into fists; every muscle in your body tensing and clenching until the thread snapped with one more well angled thrust. Mouth falling open with a silent scream, the only sound you were able to hear was your own heartbeat as your vision went white.
The first thing to return to you was your hearing, the muffled thumps of your heart fading out into loud, heavy pants - though you knew for a fact that breathing wasn’t just you. The next sense to return was touch, the slightly damp sheets underneath you grounding you back to reality as your eyes fluttered open only to land on an unexpected face.
“Sungie?”
“Jagi, if I swap to ‘Team Ass’ can you do that for me, too?” Jisung’s face was ripe with blush, though his eyes were wide and wild with lust that had your abdomen clench almost painfully.
Furrowing your eyebrows, you frowned lightly, “Do what?”
“You squirted, muse,” Hyunjin murmured beside him, awe laced in his tone, “that was so fucking hot.”
Oh.
It wasn’t until you went to move your arms that you realized Chris was still keeping you pinned - and a second later you realized he was still inside of you.
“Channie?”
“I-I’m okay, I-” Relinquishing his hold on you, his hands instantly went to your hips, thumbs tracing nondescript shapes against your skin, “I just… I need a minute, ‘m sorry.”
“No, no, baby, it’s okay, take your time.” Working yourself onto your hands, your lower back eternally grateful for the relief, you took a quick scan of the empty room, “Where’d everyone else go? Did I genuinely pass out?”
“No - honestly, you were only out for like, a minute, but after you, uh, came, we started the aftercare checklist.” Hyunjin’s hand reached out to wipe away a hint of saliva at the corner of your lips, “Hannie and I are on talk-down duty, Felix is running you a bath, Jeongin’s getting you a washcloth, Seungmin is getting you water while Minho’s starting on dinner, and Changbin is getting the laundry Chan was too fucked out to get himself.”
“I’m not fucked out,” the eldest groaned as he lazily turned his head toward the artist, “it was just a really intense orgasm, alright?”
With enough energy worked up, he pulled his hips away from yours as his softening dick slipped from your pussy, a shared hiss of overstimulation escaping you both in the process.
“Holy shit… Intense is a fucking understatement, she’s dripping so much.”
You bristled at Jisung’s words, though you could feel the reality of the situation currently oozing its way down your clit and undoubtedly landing against the stained bed sheet.
“Fuck, it’s like a river… Am I allowed to be jealous right now?”
“Han, please.” Chris groaned, embarrassment evident in his tone, “We get it, I come a lot, but I really don’t know what you have to be jealous about.”
Ducking your head with a barely contained laugh, you shook your head before meeting Jisung’s stare, “Next time, you’ll be the one almost folded in half and stuffed like a Thanksgiving turkey, okay?”
“I got the water, but it’s gonna cost you-” Seungmin stopped in his tracks as he rounded the bed, his eyes locking onto the mess between your legs, “What- You turned her into an overstuffed twinkie!”
“Seungmin!”
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toxicanonymity · 7 months
Text
EVERY INCH 3.
4.4k words, m!ghostface x f!reader
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Every inch 🔪 Every inch 2
SUMMARY: Ghostface watches you and calls you. He gets bored, and one of your friends gets killed. You try to swear ghostface off, but he stalks you. You want revenge. A/N: THANK YOU for all the love. Masked Ghostface, inspired by canon gfs & night walks. HC who you want. Enough recap in the first paragraph to read as a one shot. WARNINGS: I8+ noncon p in v, exhibitionism, voyeurism, gun play, choking, degradation, slut shaming, drugs, creampie, noncon breeding, phone sex, masturbation, knife play, a modicum of canon-typical plot/violence. Gf calls himself daddy. DEAD DOVE. NO USE OF Y/N. Starts in GHOSTFACE POV.
You aren't doing yourself any favors by thinking about him every time you get off. You should get on tinder. Go on another date. Get a boyfriend. But there's too much now. You've got a video of him whimpering with his cock out after you had your way with him, and a picture of him with cum all over his robe a minute later. And then there's the mirror pic he took in your bathroom. He's behind you, holding you naked in front of him.  There's a look of arousal on your face, and you must be so ashamed, but you keep coming back to look at it every night. . .and you're not the only one. 
Ghostface air dropped it to himself right after he took the pic. You should really be more careful with your settings. And your blinds, and your curtains. But you don't wanna be more careful, do you?  You've got everything the cops could need to put him away. You even had his DNA, and you kept it to yourself. Allll to yourself. And you’d like to have more of it, wouldn't you? It's fascinating, really, how bad you want his cock. 
You haven't heard from him in weeks, but he still comes by every once in a while.  He sees your neighbor check in on you, and you keep looking at the time on your apple watch until he leaves.  He sees you try on your slutty Halloween costumes– your backside looks best in that tight ass nurse dress, but god damn, your tits in that pleather.  What a pretty pussy you are. Meow.  He sees you get dressed for bed, and just in time. 
You check your phone and glance out your bedroom window before you take out your vibrator.  Ghostface takes out his cock and lifts his mask to spit on it. This is his season, you know. You must think about him all the time. Every time you see one of those phony Stab costumes. Every time you carve a pumpkin.  He lets you get a head start building to your climax. God damn, you want that cock, and you do an awful job hiding it when you see the call from a restricted number.  You look at your phone, biting your lip, and let it ring for a few seconds before you wet your lips and answer it. But you don't say anything.  Ohh, playin’ hard to get, are ya?
Ghostface admires the stiffness of his cock in his hand and strokes it while he watches you try not to speak first.  It's quite the game of chicken–at least a full minute of silence. He breathes heavier as he strokes himself, and then he hears the buzz of your toy. 
"Mmm, good kitty."
"What do you want?" Your breathing is heavy, too. 
"Wanna know how bad ya want this cock."
"Is your cock all you think about?"
He breathes a laugh. "That'd make two of us, wouldn't it?" 
You scoff, still touching yourself, teasing your clit with your vibrator.  
"Yeah that's it," he pants, and you arch your back. "Come for daddy."  You come so fast it's pitiful. 
You're easy. Too easy. He's getting bored. 
You're a bad, bad girl, and he wants to find out how bad. You know, he's never much cared for your "friend" Marla. He suspects you don't either, based on the way you tense at her hug in the bookstore.
—-----you-------
A DILF cop comes by your house. Must be new to the force since you've never seen him. You're used to them checking on you. The COP asks if he can come in, probably trying to be thorough,  you think.  But he asks you to take a seat, and he sits down next to you on your sofa.  When he has trouble meeting your eyes, your pulse quickens. 
He knows. He must know somehow. He knows you're a sick fuck who has phone sex with ghostface and gets off to his dick pics every night. Maybe he even knows you fucked him. He might even know you forced him. You're blanking on excuses if they find the photos in your phone. The cop leans forward and his biceps strain the short sleeves of his tan uniform.  He wrings his large, veiny hands as he turns his head to look at you.  Finally, his big brown eyes meet your gaze, and he tells you, "He's back. Got a crime scene down the block"
The relief lasts about ten seconds, and then you don't have to feign your horror. The blood rushes from your head to your pounding heart. You foolishly thought his killing days might be behind him. 
"Officer. . ." 
"Call me Javi."
"How do you know it's him, Javi?" You challenge him. 
"You really wanna know?" He raises his eyebrows at you. 
"It's him, sweetheart." He puts a big, warm hand on your upper back, then slides it up to squeeze your shoulder. "Got someone who can stay with ya?"
You take a few seconds to answer, then whisper, “yeah.” 
"Well, if not . . . " he sighs and leans way back on the sofa to reach into his uniform pants for his wallet. "Got a pen?" 
He writes his personal number on a business card and leaves it with you.  As you let him out the front door, sirens are wailing. 
Later, you see the crime scene online. Marla isn't just dead, she's stabbed, slit, and bled dry. The water runs red in the fountain you pass every day on the way out of your neighborhood.  A needed reminder of the sicko you’re dealing with. 
Over the next few days, you delete the ghostface photos and the video. You get a call from a restricted number and don’t answer it. You get a text from an unsaved number: don’t tell me you thought I changed. 
You delete it. When you’re leaving the neighborhood one day, you spot Javi in an unmarked car. When you get to your destination, you text him “why are you following me?” 
Like a boomer, he calls you instead of texting back.  You don’t answer. Then he replies, “Why don’t you have company? You shouldn’t be alone.” 
You send back, “If I have company, will you leave me alone?”
“I can give you some space, sure. But I have a job to do.”
“And what’s that?”
“Keeping you safe.”
—--
You’re not going to let ghostface control your life. You don’t know what would happen if you ran into him now, and you try not to think about it, although you do find yourself going into the trash folder on your phone to look at what you deleted. You make plans to go out with friends. It’s the first weekend of October, and there’s a huge Halloween festival. You put on your nurse costume.
An hour before your friends arrive, your doorbell rings. You look at your app and it’s Javi. Well, this is awkward, you think as you finish pulling up your black, thigh-high fishnets. You answer the door and let Javi in, trying not to let your eyes linger on the way his arms stretch his sleeves. You decline to sit down. 
“Look, if you’re gonna go out, you should carry this,” he says, then looks you up and down and his gaze lingers on your cleavage. You clear your throat. He swallows and gives a subtle smile like yeah so what?  “Gonna wear a purse?” he asks. 
“Wasn’t planning on it.” You roll your eyes. 
You reluctantly change into the cat costume and wear a bat purse. You go out with your friends and everyone gets way too drunk. Your friend Sam gets in an altercation after a frat party, and your other friends have to restrain her and walk her home. You’re tired and you don’t want to deal with it. You insist you’ll be fine since you’re armed.  You decide to walk a couple blocks before you order your ride home so you can wait somewhere with more people around. 
—--ghostface—-
You filthy little slut. Are you enjoying yourself? Ignoring him, playing hard to get, acting like you’re not flattered, then teasing him, prancing around Woodsboro looking like a handjob costs $20. Walking alone through an alley – you really are a dumb bitch, aren’t you? 
Ghostface knows where you’re headed. He’s seen you take this route before, so he gets ahead of you and waits.  He’s vaping in the shadows behind a fire escape in the alley. When he hears the click of your slutty boots, he hits send: a dark alley? lmao. He hears the ding on your phone and the click of your heels slows down right before you reach the fire escape.  no point running, he sends. Then he brings the vape pen under his mask and sucks in a mouth full of smoke, and your phone illuminates your face and your eyes widen.
—--you—--
The alley smells like weed. You’re reading the texts when ghostace appears from behind the fire escape, coming at you with his robe flowing behind him.  He only has one glove on. His gloved hand grabs your throat and he pins you to the wall. You choke and gasp for air. He tilts his mask and a small amount of smoke billows out of the dark mesh at the top of his long, black mouth. He eases up on your throat only to move his hand to your jaw and tighten his grip, squeezing your cheeks to keep your mouth open as the smoke billows thicker and closer. His mask is only an inch from your mouth. You close your eyes and breathe in, and as he releases the smoke into your mouth, your clit throbs.  You've got butterflies in your chest, being close to him again. You cough. 
"Good girl," he says as he relaxes his grip on your jaw.  Then his knee nudges your purse out of the way and wedges your thighs open. 
“Bet ya miss me more than Marla, don’t ya?”
If only he wasn’t right. There’s a fire burning in the pit of your stomach just being close to him. But Javi will probably be here any minute, and you need to put up a fight so they won't be onto you. You abruptly knee ghostface in the groin. He grunts and falls backward only slightly. 
"Bad kitty." He takes you by the throat again as you try to fight back. “Bad, bad girl.” He hasn't brandished his knife, but you know he has it. You can't get your gun out quickly enough. You look at your phone and it flies out of your hand as Ghostface grabs your wrist. 
He lets go of you and picks your phone up off the ground, then walks away, robe trailing behind him as he disappears into the night.  
You try to follow him, but he loses you. The audacity–he shotguns you, gets you all riled up, takes your phone, and leaves you, just assuming you won’t do anything about it. Assuming you’ll chase him. You think about the fountain scene. You think about him leaving you. Rage eclipses your desire. If you see him, you might actually shoot him.  Now all you have is your metro card to get home, and luckily you’re close enough to the train station.  
–-
Scattered groups of drunk college students stumble around, bicker, and laugh. 
The train doors are open and you jog to make it in time, just barely squeezing in before the door closes behind you.  The car is full, but not packed. A Freddy Kruger makes room for you, and you stand with your hand braced on the pole. You get a message on your apple watch, meaning ghostface must be in bluetooth distance. 
always wanted to see you on the pole. 
You look behind you, and there he is, sitting at the back of the car.  You should run, but you’re gonna get your phone back at the very least. There’s too much damage he could do with what’s on it.  As the passengers finish unloading, you discreetly open your purse and put your hand on your gun, then set your sights on ghostface, who’s manspreading and sitting back.  The only other company in the back of the train car is a Michael Myers who looks to be passed out drunk. 
You take out the gun and turn the safety off as you approach ghostface in your slutty cat costume. He pulls back his head and cowers in an exaggerated oh, i’m scared move. He stays quiet, for once. 
“My phone,” you tell him. 
He looks around, pretending like he has no idea what you’re talking about. 
“Now,” you order and put your finger on the trigger. He takes a phone out of his pocket, but it’s not yours. 
“What the hell’s wrong with you,” you ask. The train jolts and you’re propelled onto him.  You brace yourself with your free hand on his strong shoulder, and when you feel his hard muscle, butterflies swarm to your core. If he isn’t going to offer up your phone, you’ll have to find it yourself.  You press the muzzle of the gun into his neck, through the fabric of his mask. He freezes. You reach under his robe and pat him down, finding nothing in the front pockets of his jeans. You should check his back pockets, but first you grab his crotch while you’re at it and laugh when he’s semi-hard. 
“Cock’s the only thing you’re good for, and this is what you’ve got for me?” His mask tilts down, watching you grope him.  You savor the feeling of control. “Worthless,” you spit.  Desire bubbles between your thighs as you feel him harden in your grip. Fuck it, you’re gonna take him one last time. You don’t want the last memory of all this to be him dominating you in your bathroom. You wanna go out on top. You fumble with his button and zipper with your free hand, then command, “Take it out.” 
He tilts his mask at you, then looks behind you as though seeing who’s around. 
“No one’s looking,” you mutter. “Stop fucking around.” You hold the gun to his neck and he urgently takes his hard cock out. You reach down for it. It’s thick and warm in your hand. “Don’t feel half as big as ya look on camera,” you tell him. “Pretty sad.” You spit in your hand and reach for his cock again. “So desperate for my attention,” you mock him. “You’ll do anything, wont ya?”
This is fine, you tell yourself, You’ll tell the cops he forced you, and then you’ll even have his DNA, and they can catch him, and this can all be over. . .after one last ride. 
You put your knees on the seat on either side of him.  You hover over his cock and use your free hand to run the head through your dripping folds, then you sink onto him and bottom out with ease. His cock twitches against your walls, and a shiver races down your spine. Your nipples harden, visible even through your pleather top.  The sheer arousal pisses you off.  He feels too good. A man like this doesn't deserve to be so good at dicking you down, without even trying. Without doing anything.  You move up and down him, and he does exactly nothing. He knows it gets you off. You hate how full he makes you feel. You resent the incomparable pleasure that will linger in your mind, in your whole body, for days. Maybe forever. 
He moans soft enough that the voice changer doesn't pick it up. You wince at the sound of his humanity. 
Something comes over you. “Shut the fuck up,” you tell him as you bring yourself down on his cock again. . “I don't wanna hear your voice." You raise yourself up. "I don’t wanna know who you are." You roll your hips into him.  "I don’t fucking care. I don’t care about you at all," you bite, fucking yourself on his cock, dripping wetter and wetter.  You keep degrading him as you fuck him.  "You’re nothing to me." In your lower belly, a climax is building.  "You’re a faceless cock. Always have been.” He sits motionless as you ride him harder. Maybe it was the weed, but you can’t get enough.
When the train reaches the next stop, you tug down your dress as much as you can and sit still on his cock. You hide the gun between your bodies.
Your watch dings with a notification–an unsaved number. 
how's the 🍆
A shadow eclipses you from behind, and you hear the snap of a picture. Your face goes ice cold. 
"Oh you're a reeeeeal bad girl, aren't ya?" The real ghostface says behind you. All the hair on your body stands up, and your heart pounds as you look at the costume in front of you. The lack of gloves, the quality of fabric, the jeans under it. The cock of a stranger twitches inside you and the gun shakes in your hand. "What the fuck," you mutter. You start to get off the man, but the real ghostface slams you back down on him. 
"Oh don't stop now, kitty. " 
He holds you down on the man's cock. "Lovin’ this Halloween special. sure he is, too. Ain't ya, buddy?" 
"What the hell’s goin' on," the man mutters in a regular voice.
You’re about to berate the man for deceiving you. "You let me,"  then you feel the heavy weight of the gun in your hand and stop short, shame rushing into every blood vessel of your body. 
"Better finish what ya started," the real Ghostface says. "A happy customer won't snitch, right brother?"
When you don't move, Ghostface says, "god damnit," then squats down and wraps his arm around you. "Do I have to do everything?" He lifts you up a little, so the man's cock almost falls out, then drops you back down. He lifts you up and down the man's hard cock, and it's horrifically erotic having Ghostface fuck you on another man's dick. The real Ghostface cock is hard against your back. 
Ghostface adjusts his grip and grabs a tit as he forces you up and down.  The man’s Stab mask tilts down, watching his cock disappear into you again and again. Your lips part, and a moan slips out. 
"Oh, you filthy, filthy girl," Ghostface chides. 
"Shut up," you snap as Ghostface sheaths the man’s cock with you again. 
"Gonna cum for him, pumpkin? Milk his cock?"  
No, God no, this random guy can't cum inside you. Your body stiffens and you shake your head no.
"Oh, c'mon, kitty." 
"No," you whimper.
Ghostface sighs in exasperation and one of his arms leaves your torso for a moment. Then he points his knife at the man you're riding. "Ten seconds." 
Ghostface holds the knife to your throat as he keeps manhandling you on the guy's cock, counting down, "ten," he lifts and lowers you, "nine," stuffing you with the man's cock, "eight,"  and he's only at "seven," when the man flattens his back and arms against the subway seats and shudders as he lifts his hips into you. Ghostface forces you down, and you cry, "no," drowned out by the man's groan as he cums.  You moan at his pulsations. It's sick, disgustingly hot, getting pumped full of this stranger's cum on a subway car with Ghostface holding a knife to your throat. Your spine arches and you begin to convulse, milking the stranger’s cock just like Ghostface told you to. 
"Hellll yeahhh." Ghostface gropes your tit. His cock twitches against your back. He addresses the stranger, "She's hot for a serial rapist, right?" as he lets your weight fully down onto the man. He lets you push yourself off the man, and ghostface holds you by your neck so you won't run.  As the man's cock flops sloppily onto his open jeans, Ghostface tells him, "now get the fuck outta here." The man in the ghostface mask is still zipping up his pants when Ghostface adds, "this one needs a real big cock." Then Ghostface asks you, "don't ya, pumpkin?" And takes the man's seat. 
The train comes to a stop and as the man scurries out of the subway car, he warns other riders not to board the car. He’s removing his mask as the train pulls away, but you don’t get to see him.  Ghostface takes the man's seat and hikes up his robe, revealing his pj pants.  He takes his cock out and manhandles you onto his lap.  You hover. You're not about to hop on his dick, but let’s face it, you’re not gonna put up a fight, either. You're tired. You're confused. You're horny as hell. There must be something in that weed. 
Out the window, everyone is staring as the train slowly pulls away. 
Ghostface hikes your dress all the way up and stares between your legs with the stranger's cum seeping out of you.  
"Look at this mess," he catches the cum with the flat of the knife, cool against your folds. He slowly drags the knife toward himself, then angles it up toward your mound. Then he takes the knife off you.  He wraps his hand around your ass and the handle of the knife rests against your skin.  “Now sit on daddy’s cock.” 
He lifts you onto his cock. He hesitates with his tip notched at your entrance, and you twitch with need. Then he pulls you down, and his thick cock stretches you – a pleasant, easy stretch – as you sink onto him. He's bigger than the cock you just had. 
"What's my favorite movie?" He asks, then begins to move you on his cock. He holds you still. You're dying for friction. "Strangers on a train," he answers for you, and you ignore him.   "Hitchcock's overrated,” Ghostface says. “Now I've got my *own*.” Great, he took a video, too.  This is bad for you, really bad, but all you can think about is the big, hard cock inside you.  He's still not moving, and neither are you.  Your clit is throbbing. You begin to rock your hips as the train slows down . 
Ghostface slaps your ass with his bare hand. "Made for the screen, baby." His hips begin to move under you, finally. You close your eyes, feeling his thick shaft pump in and out of you, sliding with ease through the other man's cum. "Sure can take a cock."  He feels so fucking good.  Why did he have to kill again? Why can't he just fuck you? God his cock feels good. "Bet ya coulda taken us both," ghostface says and his cock twitches inside you. "Ohh, fuck." The train stops. He puts down his knife and takes the gun from you. "Yeah, this hole could take two, no problem." His crude words are making you throb more. You feel people watching from the train window, and your face is hot, but you can't get enough of this cock. "Maybe that's what this filthy cunt needs. Two cocks." Your walls twitch around him. "Ooohhh, like the sound'a that, don't ya?"  You feel an orgasm building in your gut. "Hell yeah, dirty girl."  
The train leaves the station again. “Maybe next time I’ll bring a friend.” he brings the gun to your face. He prods your cheek with the muzzle. Then nudges your lips open and you groan in protest. 
"Give it a kiss, pumpkin'"  You pull your head back and turn your cheek. Your heart is beating out of your chest. Your vision is blurry. Your body is dizzy with pleasure and adrenaline. Ghostface gives up on putting the gun in your mouth. He drags the cool metal down your face, around your neck, to your back, then keeps dragging it down. Then he slouches down in the seat and adjusts your angle on top of him, pulling you tighter against his chest. 
His massive, ungloved hand lifts your ass cheeks out of the way and spreads you wide. He brings you upward, letting most of his cock out, then you feel the cool metal at your dripping entrance. He wedges the cold muzzle of the gun into your pussy right alongside his cock. "Yeah, take it, kitty." 
You groan as he pulls you down on his cock and the gun. What has he done to you? Why is this so hot? "Yeah, knew ya could take two cocks." To your horror, you find your hips rocking. "Fuck yeah," he growls. The barrel of the gun is cool against the back wall of your cunt, and your hole is squeezing his cock tighter now. He wriggles the gun around in a circular motion against his cock. "Ohh yeah."  The train speeds up. "Hold on tight," he warns. He begins to manhandle you on his cock and the gun. You're on the edge. Your asshole tightens and tension swells in your core. 
"Fuck," you whisper. 
He feels it. "Yeah, that's right." You hold your breath. "Cum for me, pumpkin, or I'll make you into pie." Your climax overtakes you and you wince as you clench around the gun and his cock. 
"Goooood giirl," he says with your body jerking around his. "There's daddy's little slut." Wave after wave hits you and your cunt squeezes him and the gun.  He holds you tighter against him and lifts you enough to slide the gun out, leaving your exhausted cunt looser around him. “Yeah, plenty’a room for two.”  You're still having aftershocks. They're not fading, like another one could build. You reach for your clit. "Needy, needy cunt." You rub yourself and he rocks you on his cock until you cum again. 
"Hell yeah," he moans when you clench around him.  Then he erupts inside you with a groan. His cock pulses against your walls as his warm spend mixes with the other man's. "Yeahhh." His cum goes on and on. "Fuck, yeahh." 
As soon as he's finished coming, he pulls you off his lap. He tucks his cock back in his PJs. The train rolls to a stop. 
He pats your lower belly.  “Won’t know who's the father," he chides, "but at least ya know who's daddy."
-
-------------------
Now that you know what happens, it's a solid re-read. Especially when reader is degrading him 😭 lmk your thoughts when you come back to reread too, it's not weird lol.
THANK YOU FOR READING. If you want another one, reblogs make all the difference!!! I appreciate comments, too. 🖤🖤🖤 but reblogs get other people to read it which helps a lot, no matter how small your blog. It also affects the algorithm. If engagement is good, that helps guarantee a next one. If it "flops" compared to the first two, that's discouraging.
if you liked this smut, check out raider Joel meanwhile.
Also BTW gasolinerainbowpuddles is responsible for giving me the kink of degradation about unknown paternity starting with the fic liquid gold which is amazing.
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