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viennakarma · 3 months

Text

Something you paid for

Fernando Alonso x Reader

Summary: Two years into the best relationship of your life, you find out that Fernando thinks you don't love him. But it get worse and you realize the whole world think of you as gold digger.

Word count: 5.7k

Tags: female!reader, established relationship, slut shaming, reader is confused, fernando is even more confused, miscommunication, cursing, a bit angsty, hurt/comfort, soft smut (almost not there), happy ending, not beta read

Relationship: Fernando Alonso x Reader

Note: I'm honestly not 100% sure about this story, a had another ending planned but I wanted it to be HEA. I don't know. :(

I'm sorry if it's rushed or full of mistakes. Feedback and opinions are appreciated xx

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It was supposed to be just a pause in your studies. Something quick since your brain was already mushy from studying and writing your research for too long.

So when you picked up your phone, to aimlessly scroll through social media, you didn’t expect to see a new, sudden rush of comments on your instagram page. There were thousands of comments in your last post, calling you a gold digger, and much, much worse. Ever since you started dating Fernando, you had been getting these comments, and in the beginning they were worse but slowed down with time. Now they were on a new high again. Confused more than anything, you went on to try and find out what happened for this to happen all of a sudden. You and Fernando hadn’t gone out together for more than two weeks and you hadn’t been to a race week for a month.

After digging you eventually found out what happened. Deuxmoi posted something that made everyone quickly think it was you.

A lady who’s 12 years younger than her famous Spanish Formula One driver boyfriend, is known for being with him for his money. Many tried to warn him, but it seems like he doesn’t believe or doesn’t care.

Confused, you stared at the post, scrolling through hundreds of nasty, poisonous comments. That wasn’t true. Fernando did give you lots of presents and spoiled you a lot but he did this out of his own want, not because you asked for or demanded it. He was constantly giving you things, especially clothes, shoes and bags, and loved seeing you wearing them. He also gave you an Aston Martin car on your last birthday. He even went as far as getting you a credit card attached to his, for whenever you needed to buy books or go on a shopping spree. You never minded it because you knew he liked it, instead of refusing you were just grateful for his generosity.

You wondered if you should talk about it with him, but deep down you knew Fernando was never one to care for gossip of any kind. And this probably wasn’t even true to begin with, just someone trying to stir the pot. So you just limited the comments in your posts and went on about your day.

A week later you went to the race, it was Silverstone, and the last before summer break. You decided to dress your best, wearing clothes that were pretty and elegant and had been given to you by Fernando.

He always treated you like a princess, he was kind and patient, and always found a way to align your schedules to spend time together. He liked taking you on trips during summer break and to ski trips during winter break. Fernando adored having you around in race weeks, you could see in his face that he was radiant with your presence. And you loved all the gifts and the trips but you especially loved staying home with him, lazing around, making love on the sofa and taking walks hand in hand in his hometown. You loved helping him cook, trying your best to follow his orders and not mess up his recipes.

You walked into the paddock hand in hand, and you kept him company whenever you could. He would keep you around the most, only letting you go when he had meetings or media duties. During that time, you would go back to his room and do a little more of your research, writing your thesis.

You left his room so you could grab a snack and a coffee at the hospitality, but as you passed by a hallway, you heard someone saying your name in conversation. You stopped, leaning against the wall to hear, with a glance, you saw two mechanics talking.

“Seems like everyone tried to warn him, man. But it’s like he doesn’t mind dating a gold digger.”

“Is she a gold digger, really?”

“Man, she doesn’t do anything! She doesn't even work.”

“Has anyone warned Fernando?”

“Everyone.”

You went back inside his driver’s room, sitting down, completely shocked. So that’s what people thought of you? You knew people on the internet talked about it, but they were strangers so you wouldn’t allow yourself to mind because those people didn’t know you. But the people in the garage? They’ve known you for almost two years now, you were always kind and polite to them, even going as far as bringing them cookies and donuts as thank you for welcoming you so well.

You avoided crying, it would ruin your makeup, and Fernando would notice it very quickly. So you just sat there, numb. Thinking about how everyone believed you were with Fernando because of his money and nothing else.

When Fernando found you again, before he had to go get ready for the race, he noticed you were a little down.

“You should not study so hard on the weekends, princesa.” He muttered, hugging you from behind and leaving a gentle kiss to your neck. Of course, he would think you were just tired.

“You are absolutely right, mi amor,” you smiled a little, turning around so you could hug him properly, “do you have time for a little kiss?”

“Even two,” he joked.

You ended up sitting on his lap, making out like two teenagers, until someone knocked on the door, calling Fernando to go get ready.

“Hey, good luck, yeah?” You said, kissing him one more time then kissing the back of his hand, “I love you.”

You watched the race from the garage, feeling self conscious now that it seemed like everyone thought you were leeching off of Fernando.

In the end, Fernando got P3 which was a great result and you celebrated wildly, proudly watching him get on the podium.

After his post race meetings, you met him in his room.

“Let’s go out to celebrate! Dinner is on me!” You hugged him, mood better now than before.

You and him ended up going out for dinner, at a high end restaurant, dressed to the nines. It was fun, you listened to Fernando talking about the race, then he asked you what you thought about the race.

Before dessert, you went into the bathroom to retouch your makeup and freshen up. When you came back, your tiramisu was already there. You and Fernando shared the dessert, laughing to each other.

When the waitress came, you picked the opportunity.

“Dear, can we get the tab please?”

“It’s already taken care of, Madam.”

Your smile faltered, and you looked at Fernando as she left. He was smiling like he couldn’t hold it in.

“Fernando! I said dinner was on me!”

“Why would I let you pay, princesa?”

“Because you got a podium today! As a celebration!” You whined, upset. Fernando pulled your chair, until you were right beside him and he kissed your cheek.

“I like paying for you, Hermosa,” Fernando stood up, offering you a hand, “come on, you can treat me right in our hotel room, what about that?”

You smiled as he pulled you away, but something still nagged at your brain.

You and Fernando took the private plane back to Madrid after the date, because he had sponsor meetings over the week, and you honestly wanted to sleep in your bed. The trip was quick, and while Fernando took a nap, you tried studying, but your mind kept going back to being called a gold digger.

Deep down, you really wanted to talk to Fernando about it, but you were unsure if he could fix this in any way. What could he do? Make a post on instagram saying hey, my girlfriend isn’t leeching off of me as most you think!? You did live with Fernando, for six months now, and he paid all the bills and the house was his. But he also gave you many many gifts.

When you got home, putting your bags inside the closet, you two just changed into sleepwear, ready to doze off.

Then Fernando opened his bag and grabbed a small box.

“Oh, I had forgotten! Got you a present last week in Austria!”

He handed you the box, and with your heart beating fast, you opened it to a beautiful vintage watch. It was gold, delicate with a beautiful bracelet. There was a lump in your throat as you stared at the piece.

“You didn’t like it? It’s ok, princesa, I’ll get you another one,” he said, with a gentle smile.

“I don’t need another watch, Nando. You gave me this one not even a month ago,” you raised your wrist, showing him the brand new one he gave you.

“I want to give it to you. It doesn’t matter,” he shrugged.

“And I don’t want it,” god, you didn’t want to sound so ungrateful, but how could you tell him that his presents felt like something else now? “You have to stop giving me so many presents,” you said, trying to put into words what you were feeling.

“But that’s how I won you over, why would you refuse my presents now?”

Something about the nonchalance in his voice made you stop, stomach dropping. That’s how I won you over? That’s how he believed your relationship came to be? That’s why he thought you were together?

“What did you say?” You paused, suddenly turning to him, it felt like a punch to the throat, “You- you believe I’m a gold digger? You believe it?”

Fernando walked up to you, putting both hands on your waist, a soft smile gracing his face.

“Amor, you know I don’t mind spending my money on you. Quite the opposite, I love to spoil you.”

You stood there, speechless for a couple of seconds. Then you snapped out of it, pushing his hands off you.

“That’s not what I asked!” Your voice sounded louder, you tried to regain your composure, “people talk a lot, the press too, but you know the truth, right?!”

“I’m a rich man, I like providing you with the luxurious lifestyle you lead. I don’t care that you enjoy my money.”

His words made it so much worse. It made you nauseous, the idea that all this time, he’s been thinking of you as a gold digger, as someone who’s only with him for his money and for what he could provide for you.

“No, Fernando- no!” Your voice wavered, “that’s not true! I love you, you know that right?”

“Why are you so caught up in some silly rumor?

“You know right? You know I love you.” You pressed further waiting for an answer. Hoping against hope that he knew it deep down, that he could acknowledge that you harbored love for him.

“Amor, we have such a great dynamic like this. I don’t need your love, just your loyalty and for you to be my pretty girl.”

He was so calm and reassuring, like he had made peace with the fact that you didn’t love him. Like he wasn’t bothered at all by the fact that you were supposedly a gold digger. His dismissal broke something inside you.

“So you don’t- you don’t believe I love you?”

You felt pathetic and helpless, repeating the same words again and again, hoping and praying for a different answer from Fernando.

“Come on, I’m really tired, can we go to sleep?

“Fernando.”

“I’m going to wait for you in bed,” was all he said, dismissing you completely.

You walked out of the room at the same time he went into the bathroom, you held your head up until you softly closed the door behind you, then finally the tears spilled. You went to the bathroom downstairs, the farthest you could go away from him as the sobs broke from your throat violently.

Sliding down on the floor you wondered if everything was lie. You knew it wasn’t but the fact that he thought you were only there for the money was completely wrong. How long had he been thinking that? How many times had he heard you say “I love you” and thought it wasn’t true? You didn’t even know what to do or what to feel. How could you feel if this whole time while you were pouring your heart into this relationship he thought you were just leeching off of him? How can you love someone so deeply and still live with the fact they think of you as a freeloader? Did he joke with his friends like yeah, she’s a gold digger but at least she’s loyal and fucks me well?

Your chest hurt and you felt repulsive, making your way to the living room, opening a bottle of his whiskey, not bothering with a glass, just sipping it straight from the bottle.

What could you do now? Talk to him? Tell him you’re not with him for his money? After two whole years accepting his every gift with open arms? After getting a fortune worth of presents? After letting him pay for your books, textbooks, new laptop? After letting him pay for dates, trips, clothes, accessories, shoes and jewelry?

You hated yourself for it now. For taking it just because you thought it was his love language, not because deep down he was trying to keep you, buying your affection.

After spending the whole night awake, nursing a bottle and with only your repulsive thoughts as company, you watched as the sun rose from the big living room window.

It was time to fix it.

Fernando was an early riser almost every morning, so after the sun fully rose in the sky, you went in the kitchen and prepared coffee, to cut the effect of the alcohol. You weren’t drunk, really.

“Morning, bebé! You woke up earlier than me today?” He said, passing you with a kiss to your cheek, then going to the cabinet for a mug. He was so unbothered by your argument last night it was pissing you off.

“I didn’t sleep.”

He paused, looking at your face.

“We should talk.” You readied yourself. Fernando stopped in front of you, attentive. “I’ve been hearing a lot this past week that I’m a gold digger, this has been making me feel some kind of way, and I wanted to address this with you. Last night you were tired and we probably misunderstood each other…”

“Where are you going with this, corazón?” He asked, confused.

“I’m not with you for your money, Fernando. Do you understand that?”

He stood silent, which only made you feel worse.

“I want you to stop giving me presents without a proper occasion. And I want you to stop paying stuff for me. And we’re going to share house bills.” You laid it all out, after thinking hard all throughout the night.

“What are you talking about? No, I don’t accept it.” He frowned, “that wasn’t the deal when we moved in together.”

“Because I didn’t know everything back then. I don’t want to feel like I’m taking advantage of you, and I don’t live at your cost like this.”

“No, Y/N.” He took a step back, shaking his head as if you had said the most stupid thing he had ever heard.

“I’m serious, Fernando.”

“No, I’m not negotiating this. I pay for everything. That’s how it’s been and that’s how it will be.”

“I just want to show you that I’m not with you for the money! I’m not what they’re calling me! No more presents, Fernando.”

“You took them.”

“Because I thought you wanted me to have them!”

“I wanted you to have them so you would want to stay with me!”

You gasped, hearing it from his mouth finally. The tears finally started flowing, and you swallowed, trying to keep your voice steady even with the tempest happening inside your chest, staining the beautiful story of your relationship. Well, what you thought was a beautiful relationship.

“You’re just like them, right?” You said, defeated, “you think of me as a gold digging whore. You probably never defended me when they called me that.”

“I gave you all this stuff because I didn’t want you to leave!”

“It was never about the fucking money! And guess what? You lost me anyway!” You marched to the bedroom, Fernando hot on your heels.

“Don’t. Don’t leave.” He said, following you. “I did everything for you to never leave!”

“Everything but loving me! I don’t fucking care!” You unlatched your necklace, putting it on the table, “I don’t care about your money and the jewelry and the clothes and the bags!” You put down your watch and earrings too. Everything he had given you not because he wanted you or loved you, but because he thought they were the price to pay to keep you around.

“Fuck, I love you!” You shouted, feeling desperate and lost, “And all you see me as is something you paid for. A toy you can parade around and look pretty in your arm! You don’t even love me, Fernando. I could write a list about everything I love about you, and none of it would be your stupid money!”

In the closet, you picked a bag, and started putting your clothes inside. Then you noticed how most of them were gifts from him. So you put it back, taking only what you had bought yourself. Fernando stood there, helpless as you packed, putting clothes and a few shoes in a couple of baggage. You also took your study material and laptop, which he had gifted you, but you knew you’d refund him.

“Stop, no,” Fernando tried to stop you as went into the garage, “I do, I love you.”

“You don’t, Fernando. You’re not even sure of that.” You shook your head, putting the bags inside the car. The Aston Martin he had given you, “you have to think. If you really love me as you say, then why do you love me? Because I’m eye candy you can take to galas? Because I’m a good fuck? Because I stand there and look pretty when you have to kiss those old men’s asses?”

You didn’t give him a second, getting in the car and starting the engine.

“This is so messed up, oh my god, how could I let myself believe this for two entire years?” You whispered to yourself, accelerating the car and driving off.

Through the rear view, you could see Fernando standing there, doing nothing.

You drove and wiped the tears away, breathing in. When you moved in with Fernando, you hadn’t been able to get out of the lease of your flat because you still had a few months on your renting contract. Now it felt like luck that you had a place to stay. Despite getting your doctorate degree, you didn’t have any friends in the city, only a few acquaintances here and there.

You got to the apartament, not bothering to unpack your bags, only leaving it on the bedroom floor. You took your study material and with your phone in hand, you sent Fernando via transfer a total 4000 euros, for what you hoped covered the “laptop and books expenses” as you wrote in the little note.

Then you laid on the bed, crying yourself to sleep.

You woke up and it was getting dark, the sun setting outside. Checking your phone, there were fourteen missed calls from Fernando, and a notification, showing that he had returned the money to you, with additional 30000 euros and only “no” written on the little note. Huffing, you sent the whole amount back and blocked him, so he couldn’t transfer any more money to you.

He still had not realized what was wrong, he was still thinking money was your motivation.

The next few days felt like a haze, you were barely getting any sleep, only eating and writing your research, which ultimately reminded you of Fernando, since it was a study on aerodynamics. You couldn’t lie to yourself, thinking of how many times you stared at the door, waiting and hoping he would understand and come after you.

Fernando had work commitments in England, and going back to Madrid, he ended up giving George and his girlfriend a lift. Fernando was visibly not himself as soon as George saw him.

“How’s Y/N doing?” George asked, casually. But from the way Fernando’s face dropped, he could tell something was wrong, “trouble with the missus?” He joked, tried to lighten the mood.

“She- uh, she left.” Fernando muttered.

“What do you mean, she left?” Carmen joined the conversation, “She’s traveling?”

“No- no- I guess we broke up.”

“You guess?!” George’s voice went a little high pitched out of nervousness.

“Fernando, what happened?” Carmen tried to understand.

Despite not being exactly best friends, you and her were pretty close, always spending time together whenever both of you were on race weekends. The fact that you’re both engaged academics was also a common topic between you.

“You know about the rumors, right?” Fernando started, hesitating.

“What rumors?” George paused.

“That she’s only with me for the money,” Fernando muttered.

“All girlfriends of drivers are accused of that at some point, what’s new?” George pushed.

“I might have implied that I agree with that.”

“Oh, my god,” Carmen covered her mouth, absolutely shocked, “What?”

“Fernando, respectfully- Are you fucking insane?!” George exclaimed, jaw slack, “she looks at you all lovey-dovey, like- like- you’re the only person in the entire earth and you think she’s with you for the money?”

“She would never be like that! She’s so smart and kind,” Carmen added.

“I know- I just- I don’t know! Maybe I let the rumors get to my head!” he ran both hands over his face, exasperated, “And she always lets me pay, and she always takes the presents, I don’t know!”

Then, Fernando explained about how you tried to pay for dinner, and you refused his gift, he told them about the argument and how you wanted to set boundaries about money and gifts.

“She was trying to prove to you that she’s not a freeloader. She was trying to show that the money didn’t matter, and what did you do? You pushed more money on her!” George practically spat the words in Fernando’s face.

“Eres muy estúpido, Fernando. Te lo digo como tu amiga.” Carmen muttered.

“I don’t know what she said but I heard the word stupid, and I agree.” George backed her up, “Go talk to her, apologize and fix it.”

“That is,” Carmen interrupted, face serious, “If you really love her. Otherwise, better let her go find someone who can really love her, it’s what she deserves. Love and happiness.”

Fernando swallowed, his chest constricting with the mere thought of you moving on, of someone else having you in their arms.

Getting back home without you there felt like a thick fog day, cold and empty and he missed you, he missed his sun. He missed you jumping into his arms as soon as he opened the door. He missed the smell of the candles you always lit while studying. He even missed the little mess of textbooks, colorful highlighters and notes scattered around.

Home didn’t feel like home without you.

In the middle of the living room, there were big cardboard boxes, as he opened, he noticed they were full of clothes, shoes and bags he had gifted you throughout your relationship. In a smaller box, all the jewelry he had given you, even anniversary gifts. Even the beauty products he had given you like perfumes, makeup products, and face creams.

You had returned every single thing.

And on the coffee table, your keys to the house and the keys of your Aston Martin DB12.

It seemed like you had returned everything that could tie you to him, everything that made him wrongly call you a gold digger. And it felt painfully like a goodbye.

While mixing your homemade coffee, your eyes flicked to the door, then to your phone on the table, facing up. Despite the searing pain in your chest, and the sorrowful hole in your heart, maybe it was time to start to move on. It had been more than a week, if he wanted to come back to you, he would’ve come by now.

You got ready to meet with your advisor, and she brought up a topic that had been common now, about you taking a position as a professor for a couple of Engineering subjects. She said it’d be good for you to work in your area while on the last few months before getting your doctorate degree. You had mostly denied the other times she offered the position, because you wanted more time with Fernando, because you wanted the freedom to fly around the world following him to his races.

Now- now you had more bills to pay and no boyfriend to follow. You also had more free time, a broken heart and a vacant mind.

“I’m considering the position. I believe it could do me good right now.” You said to her, thoughtful, “can I confirm with you tomorrow?”

After going through the meeting and getting a review on your thesis, you went back to your flat, taking a long shower. You had just dressed in pajamas when the doorbell rang. With long strides, you were faced with Carmen, and not Fernando as you expected.

“From your face I take it he hasn’t spoken to you, yes?” Carmen muttered, seeing the visible disappointment in your face.

“I’m sorry, please come in,” you opened the door wider, forcing a smile. Carmen had a couple of bags that she set on a nearby table.

“He told us what happened, I’m so sorry,” Carmen hugged you and you immediately started crying, since you had no one to talk about the past few days, “I brought chocolates and wine, so we can talk.”

Over chocolates and a bottle of Merlot, you told her everything, starting at the deuxmoi rumor. She looked horrified when you said word for word what had transpired the last time you spoke with him.

“I just don’t understand why he didn’t come talk to you yet,” Carmen added, at some point.

“Because he won’t, at all.” You say with your voice shaky from crying so much the past hour.

“Don’t say that. He loves you.” Carmen said.

“I’m not entirely sure about that,” you shrugged, pretending it didn’t hurt as much as it did, “He’ll find another one, someone who can enjoy his money since it seems like it’s all that matters to him.”

Carmen didn’t say anything to that and you knew she couldn’t argue with the facts. Later, George dropped by to get her, going up to your flat so he could hug you quickly and mutter “I’m sorry”.

With a heavy heart, you slowly rebuild a healthy routine again, doing grocery shopping, cooking meals, going to the gym, studying and everything.

One day, you went back home after going on a shopping spree, and as you got into the hall, Fernando was there, standing in your hall, waiting by the door. You stopped, almost losing the timing to leave the elevator. When you walked closer, he noticed you. Meeting his eyes was different this time, uncertain and a little distant.

“What do you want?” You asked, you hoped your voice would come out harsh, but it only sounded defeated.

“Can we talk?” He asked, and you nodded, opening the door and letting him in.

There was a moment of awkward silence as you put the shopping bags down. After doing that, you crossed your arms and stood against a side table, waiting quietly.

“I’m sorry. I’m really sorry, for not fully believing your love, I guess I was so focused in protecting myself, that I ended up hurting you, and it was never my intention,” Fernando stood just two steps away from you, his eyes holding such pain and fear, that it made you crumble, he didn’t look like he’d been sleeping well, “I love you, I really do. For who you are and nothing else.”

You wanted to give in so bad, you wanted to run into his arms and never let go, but you also didn’t want to suffer again.

“How do you know? You never knew that for two years, how would you know it now?” You shook your head, tears starting to fill your eyes again.

“Because it is hard being without you,” he said, like he was trying to find the right words, “I can’t sleep without you. My life is miserable without you around.”

You only nodded, covering your lips with a hand. You wanted to tell him that you had not gotten proper sleep without him, that your life feels empty, that not knowing about him everyday was painful. But you needed more. You needed something you could hold onto, and maybe, just maybe take another chance at the two of you.

“I- I made a list. Like you said,” his voice failed, and you noticed his hand was shaking a little as he held the paper, “I love you. I love coming home to you every time and feel our house so lived in. I love how you always hug me first thing after I’m back home. I love the silly texts you send me randomly throughout the day talking about your day. I love the selfies with your tongue out too,” that made you two chuckle, and the movement made your tears fall, so you wiped them, staring at him intently, “I love that you’re always the smartest person in any room we’re in. I love that you’re humble, never showing off or being a smartass. I love how cheeky and witty you are. I love that you talk in your sleep. I love that scar in your knee, because it shows you were always a little naughty, even as a kid. I love that there’s always fresh flowers at home. I love that you love kids. I love that you get along well with my family. I love that you-”

He didn’t finish, as you closed the distance and launched yourself at him, hugging him tight. Fernando held you close, pressing you into him, inhaling your perfume, feeling like he was at home again.

“I’m so sorry, princesa. So so sorry. I missed you so much,” he whispered against your cheek, kissing it softly.

“I missed you too, Nando” you said, eyes closed and allowing yourself to just feel him again, “I love you so much.”

You let go, holding his face with both hands, looking into his eyes before kissing him softly. He, on the other hand, held the back of your neck firmly, licking your mouth open, until he had tasted your mouth, leaving you breathless.

“Come back home with me, princesa.”

At that, you took a step back.

“I- I can’t, Nando. I got a new job at the university.”

“What?”

“I thought you weren’t coming back to me,” you muttered, and your words made him wince, “I needed something to hold on to.”

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry” he ran a hand over his face, looking embarrassed for taking so long to come after you.

“I believe we should- we should take a step back, rethink a bit about our dynamic,” you told him, hesitant of his reaction.

“Are you unsure about us?” He asked, visibly worried.

“No, no- I love you- I do-” You started, taking his hand, holding it firmly against yours, “I just think we should rewind a bit. Have my own place and pay my own bills, I just don’t want to feel like that again, I need to regain my dignity in this.”

He kept quiet, because he knew deep down you were right. He felt awful about all the misunderstandings, but he knew you probably felt much, much worse. He should just get on his knees and be thankful you still loved him and still wanted him. He’d take all your conditions to get back with him.

And deep down both of you knew it was for the best. Moving out and living alone, working and seeing him occasionally as a boyfriend.

Holding your face, he kissed you, leaving little pecks on your lips, your cheeks, your chin, your forehead. You closed your eyes, letting him kiss you, and he muttered how much loved you and how much he missed you, kissing down the side of your neck. He walked you inside and let him, feeling his hands quickly peeling your clothes off, leaving a trail of clothes from the living room to your bedroom.

You parted so you could undress him, pulling at his jacket and the t-shirt.

“I love you, I love you so much,” he mumbled into a kiss, laying you down in bed.

You laid on the bed and he hugged him, making space for him between your legs. He held you, touching your nose with his gently.

“I missed you, princesa,” he kissed your cheek, “I promise I’ll do better from now on.”

“I know you will, baby.” You kissed him again, running your hand down his back, “make love to me now.”

He filled you up at once, and you groaned into his mouth, scratching your nails down his back as you cunt welcomed him. As he fucked into you, slowly at first then picking up pace, he muttered how much he loved you and how sorry he was, over and over.

As you cuddled after, quietly enjoying each other’s company.

“What do we do about all your gifts?”

“Give them away,” you shrugged.

“Can I convince you to take it back?”

“Not if you still want me in your life,” you muttered. He nodded, placing a gentle kiss on your shoulder.

“You know how I know I love you?” Fernando asked, drawing invisible patterns on your back, “there’s an engagement ring in the third drawer of my bedside table.”

You hesitated for a second, but he knew you well. Better than anyone else.

“I know what you said, I just wanted to let you know. I bought it a week after you moved in with me. I know we’re rewinding a little bit for now, but you’ll be my wife one day.”

“And what if I refuse when you propose?” You smirked, and he pulled your leg over his waist.

“You won’t.”

Note: UGH IDK GUYS :(

#f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 #formula 1 #fernando alonso x you #fernando alonso x reader #fernando alonso #Spotify

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onlyhuis · 3 months

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pro bono

member — lawyer!wonwoo x lawyer!reader genre — smut, fwb to ?? word count — 1.1k synopsis — you and your coworker jeon wonwoo have been working on this case for months. now that it's finally over, he shows you that "for the public good" doesn't mean that he can't be good for you, too. aka: lawyer wonwoo fucking coworker reader after winning a case smut warnings — descriptions of female anatomy, prone bone (the title is a pun hehe), creampie (shocker i know!), spanking, hair pulling, dacryphilia, mirror sex, coworkers fwb!wonu, gratuitous descriptions of how wide wonu's shoulders are just because i can notes — requested by @junhuisms sorry this took so long bff </3 — lots of love to @onlymingyus for proofreading !! — probably some legal inaccuracies bc i know nothing about the law i'm just here to fuck the hot man so go easy on me pls. i really meant for this to be a longer fic but it's been in my docs for almost a year and i've been trying to not pressure myself to write a certain amount so i hope this is still able to live up to your expectations :) i know i've been pretty mia recently but i'm trying to get back into the swing of things so feedback is super super appreciated! hope you enjoy! note #2 — tumbly still hates me and is super finnicky about putting my posts in the tags so i haven't been able to use my regular divider image bc it bugs out :(( i've tried everything i'm sorry but pls lmk how you like this new one!

you’d been working on this case for months, and it had been one to make or break your career. weeks upon weeks of research, reviewing documents and studying laws to make sure your arguments were seamless.

the upside to all this work, however, was that you got to know your coworker wonwoo better, who you’d been assigned to work on the case with. and by “get to know him,” what you really meant was “get railed every night after work”.

and tonight, after the trial had wrapped up and the court’s final decision had ruled in your favor, you found yourself where you’d grown accustomed to spending all your nights: in his penthouse apartment, and more specifically, in his bed.

the floor-length mirror in his room was one of your favorite things, because no matter what position you were in or how you were angled, you could always see wonwoo. see his broad shoulders, see his muscles flexing, see his abs tensing right before he cums; and god, it drives you crazy.

but it drives him even more crazy as he fucks you into his mattress, watching in the mirror’s reflection how your eyes are squeezed shut and tears stream down your cheeks onto his pillowcase.

it’s one of his favorite positions, as you’ve learned over the past few months, to have you lying flat on your stomach as he fucks you from behind. with your body at this angle, he can get so much deeper into you, you can practically feel it in your stomach, and with only just a handful of thrusts he can make you fall apart on his cock in a matter of seconds.

tonight, however, it’s taken less than that to make you cum. the pride of winning the case has him on a high, and he barely even needed to get you stretched out first. but he did anyway, his face buried between your thighs for what felt like eternity until you were pushing his head away and begging him to stop teasing.

you yelp as he twists his hand in your hair, yanking your neck back so you can see your reflection in the mirror.

your eyelids droop heavily, jaw hanging open as wonwoo meets your eyes in the mirror. “you see how well i fuck you, baby?” he groans, squeezing your hip with his other hand. “taking it so fucking well… i’ve fucked you stupid, haven’t i?”

all you can manage is a moan as tears begin to form in your eyes from the pleasure. you whimper quietly, noises muffled by the pillow as you struggle to catch your breath in between thrusts. you can already feel the burn of another orgasm in the pit of your stomach, and wonwoo’s hands pushing down on your lower back are making it impossible to hold back.

“my good girl,” he coos and he lets go of his hand in your hair, barely giving you a chance to catch yourself as your head falls forward and back down onto the pillow. “don’t hold back those pretty sounds. let everybody hear how you like to celebrate your wins. you deserve it, baby.”

“just as much a win for you— as it is for me,” you manage to gasp out. you struggle to keep your eyes open but you force yourself to, determined to see the way his face contorts in the mirror. his eyebrows furrow as he adjusts the angle of his hips, staring down at your ass, back arching into him and forcing his cock deeper with every stroke.

he leans down over you, caging your body with his own, his mouth brushing against the back of your neck. “we both know you did most of the work. and this… this is your reward.”

“wonwoo—” you moan out brokenly as his hands knead your ass roughly, grabbing at your skin and spreading you apart so he can push into you with more force. you clench around him and he curses, his hips starting to stutter.

without warning he pulls out, rolling you over onto your back. you whine at the sudden loss and at the ache in your muscles, but wonwoo just leans forward over your body to kiss you and suddenly you forget everything you were thinking about. you’re so caught up in his mouth on yours and his hands sliding over your body that you barely even notice when he pushes his cock back into you, never breaking away from your lips as he starts out a steady rhythm, gradually building back up to his pace from earlier.

finally he pulls away, sitting up to put his hands on the back of your thighs and push your legs up to your chest. your breath catches in your throat with each thrust, your mind reeling as you concentrate on the feeling of him so deep inside you, pressing against that sweet spot over and over again.

his broad chest is the only thing that fills your vision as you cum, and your brain barely registers the words that leave his mouth in that deep, gravelly voice you’ve become accustomed to hearing nearly every night.

“taking every inch so fucking well,” he grunts, forehead glistening with sweat. “god, you look so good taking my cock.” his movements become more and more desperate as he starts to chase his high, his fingers digging into your skin so roughly to the point that you know you’ll find bruises there in the morning.

still breathing heavily, you whine out his name one last time, sending him over the edge right behind you in a matter of seconds. he lets out a guttural groan, continuing to snap his hips frantically as your walls squeeze around his throbbing cock.

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄

wonwoo chuckles, handing you your purse and helping you shrug your coat on as you attempt to wipe the smudged mascara from your cheeks with your thumbs.

“same time, monday night?” you ask as he walks you down the hall to the elevator, holding the doors open with one hand.

he nods, not even making an attempt to hide the grin on his face. “you keep winning cases like you did today, and you might as well just move in. save you the trouble of calling a taxi every night.”

you laugh, knowing he’s not serious but your heart races at the thought anyway. “you keep fucking me like that, and i might take you up on that offer.”

he hums and raises his eyebrows, but you can tell he’s pleased. “i knew having that mirror installed was a good investment.”

you might not be getting paid for taking on pro bono cases, but just knowing that you’re helping people makes up for it. and of course, the compensation you get from your coworker is more than enough to keep you coming back for more.

i hope you enjoyed this!! if you did, consider reblogging or leaving a comment or an ask :) it shows me this is something people want to see more of, and knowing people like this makes me want to write more of it! thanks for reading!!

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#1k #kvanity #kflixnet #k-labels #caratlibrary #[📌] — june.writes #wonwoo smut #svt smut #seventeen smut #wonwoo x reader #wonwoo imagines #wonwoo scenarios #svt scenarios #svt x reader #svt imagines #svt fanfic #seventeen imagines #seventeen x reader #seventeen scenarios

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bountydroid · 3 days

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Darlin' pt 6

pt 1 / pt 2 / pt 3 / pt 4 / pt 5 / pt 7 (SMUT)

Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x f!reader (Romance)

Description: Cooper and Reader feel the effects of the radiation.

Notes: My tags are still goofy I don't know what is going on I am sorry. When I am writing the post your profile comes up and I click on it but then when I post it it doesn't work? Help? You guys may have to just keep an eye on my posts. :(

Cooper still hasn't told us where he is taking us yet. The sun seemed to get extra hot as the day went on. I knew the irradiation of the river was starting to hit me, just like it was the vaultie. We both had sunken, dark eyes and pale skin. Radiation sickness was starting to set in. Cooper made sure I stayed close to him, his eyes only leaving me to bark at the vaultie when she slowed.

"This damn sun," I whined.

Without saying a word, Cooper took off his hat and dropped it on my head. I smiled ear to ear, the idea of wearing his hat filling me with joy. "Thanks, Coop."

His footsteps stuttered at the nickname. Little did I know, it brought back a flood of memories that were long forgotten. "Just don't lose it, darlin'." He mumbled.

The show of affection filled me with a burst of energy, adding some pep to my step as we trekked along in the sand. Eventually, we happened upon a small, derelict town. The old homes were covered almost half up their sides with sand. The houses now were all the same tan color as the ground, a reminder of the harshness of the wastelands. We walked up to a building with "Westside Medical Clinic" written on a big sign out front. As soon as we stopped walking we heard it. The yelling.

"Roger! My name... is Roger!" A voice roared from inside the building.

The three of us exchanged looks before Cooper pushed the vaultie towards the door, making her go first. "Stay behind me, sugar." He said quietly to me.

We slowly continued into the building as the snarling grew closer. The vaultie hesitated, not wanting to get any closer to the danger inside. This caused Cooper to give her another harsh shove. The fear swirling in my stomach made me feel like I was going to throw up. I grabbed onto the back of Cooper's coat for purchase. We finally made our way into the room where the voice was coming from. A man, or a ghoul, was sitting in the sand, mumbling and snarling.

"Hey Rog," Cooper greets him.

"Hey. Hey." the man laughs, relieved to see his friend. "Fancy seeing you here. You out for that bounty, too, huh?"

"Yep," Cooper responds as he knelt in front of his friend.

You all stand there in silence for a bit, listening to Roger snarl and whip his head around.

"Oh, shit," Roger says between wails.

"How you feelin’?" Cooper asks quietly, already knowing the answer.

"Oh... you know," Roger replied. "It's hard out here. Dang smoothies can be so unkind. I see you got some smoothies of your own." He says as he looks over at the vaultie and me in the corner. "That one is cute with your hat on."

I give him a small smile as a blush warms my cheeks. "You like it? I'm thinking of keeping it." I say, trying to lighten the mood.

Roger lets out a gleeful laugh, "Oh, I hope she rubs off on you. Keep her around."

Cooper smiles in response, "Plan on it."

Roger cried out again, ripping the smiles off everyone's faces.

"You're turning," Cooper says reluctantly, he exchanges a worried look with you.

"Yeah maybe, maybe." Roger says on the verge of tears, "Maybe. Hey, you don't happen to have any vials, do you? Just one little puff and I'll be back on my feet. You know I'm good for it." Roger pleaded.

"I'm sorry Roger I am all out," Cooper says, looking sorrowful.

"That's okay. That's okay." Roger mumbles. "Though, um, you and your smooth-faced friends, you um... you might want to clear out before things get ugly."

Roger started to snarl again, he was growing louder and louder. It was horrible to watch. "Is this what will happen to Cooper?" I thought to myself.

"I did okay. 28 years since I first started showing," Roger said, before snarling again. "Oh, hell! Not as long as you are though." He pointed proudly at Cooper, "You've outlasted us all. How long since you first started wastelanding?"

"A long time," Cooper responds while shaking his head.

"That's a lot of vials," Roger said quietly.

"Well I've always been good at making money, Roger." Cooper exhales as he stands up. "Say, you remember how good food used to taste?"

"Yeah, BlamCo Mac and Cheese!" Roger says excitedly.

"Ice Cream and Apple Pie." Cooper countered.

"Hot damn! Apple Pie." Roger said, joy lighting up his face, even making the vaultie smile. "You know my mother used to-"

Before he could finish, Cooper shot Roger threw the head with no warning. I stumbled back in shock, tripping and falling on my butt and landing in the sand.

"Why did you do that?" The vaultie asked with tears in her eyes. "He was sick."

Cooper ignores her and starts making his way toward me while he holsters his gun. My eyes were glued to the man, lifeless on the ground.

"Darlin'." Cooper says pulling me from my thoughts and he crouches in front of me.

I look up at him with weeping eyes. "He...." I trailed off. I didn't know what to say. "I'm sorry," I whispered as the tears started to fall down to my chest.

"Don't be sorry, darlin'. Can you do something for me?" He asked calmly.

"Yeah." I managed to respond between sniffles.

"Wait in the hallway." He replies, rubbing my shoulder reassuringly. I give him a confused look before he starts talking again, "I don't want you to see this."

Realization washes over me. "You gonna eat him?"

"Just - just wait in the hallway." He says as he pulls me up to my feet. "Okay?"

"Okay," I mumble as I slowly make my way out of the room. I lean up against the wall and close my eyes. It's only a minute before I hear the vaultie begging.

"Stop. Stop Stop." The vaultie pleaded, "Please, I know it's hard out here but you don't, you don't have, you don't have to resort to... to..."

"What'd you say your name was?" Cooper asks her.

"Lucy MacLean." The vaultie replies hesitantly.

"MacLean?" Cooper asks a hint of recognition in his voice. "Huh. Well, Lucy MacLean, it ain't all peaches and marmalade left up here, sweetheart. Sometimes a fella gotta eat another fella."

Even from the hallway, I could hear the squishing from whatever he was doing in there. I felt nausea settle into my stomach, whether from the radiation or what Cooper was doing in the other room, I didn't know.

"You know, my vault has endured hardship too," Lucy said, pushing back. In the great plague of '77, everyone had to quarantine, they couldn't work the farms together, people starved. My mother included. My dad dropped to 128 pounds, and he still refused to do anything like this."

Cooper let out a deep chuckle at her words.

"What? What's so funny?" She asked, her voice dripping with venom.

"Well, there's what people say they did and what they really did." Cooper said, his accusation heavy in the air. "I'll bet your daddy was first in line at the cookout. I bet he had a bib with a drawing of his neighbor's ass on there."

"How do you live like this?" Lucy asks. "You obviously know it's wrong you sent her to the other room. So how do you do it? Why keep going?"

I open my eyes slowly at the mention of me. I didn't know if I could ever live like that, so Lucy's question piqued my interest as well. There was a heavy silence as I heard Cooper's footsteps making his way across the room.

"Well, one good question deserves another," Cooper responds, his voice was dark, sending a shiver down my spine. "Why the fuck am I doin' all the work? Now come on vaultie, ass jerky don't make itself."

This was a side of Cooper that I had not seen since the night we met. Ruthless. Cruel. It made me wonder was this who he really was. Or was the sweetness he has shown me his true self? It was probably a little bit of both. The silence in the building was deafening. It was a moment before I heard Lucy's soft footsteps in the sand.

"She is actually gonna do it." I thought to myself in horror, letting out a soft gasp.

Once they made their way out of the room, Lucy's hands were covered in blood and she had an empty expression on her face. She was clearly traumatized by what she had to do to Roger. Cooper didn't look at me as they made their way past. "Come on, darlin'."

It felt like forever since the incident with Roger, but it was hard to forget as his skin hung from Cooper's pack. The three of us hiked in silence, tension had returned to Cooper and me as neither of us knew what to say to the other. Cooper had started coughing some time ago. This filled me with dread, we needed to get him some Jet fast. Let alone, myself. I was getting sicker by the minute as I struggled with the poisoning from the river. My feet dragged in the sand behind Cooper as I struggled to keep up.

Cooper dipped his canteen into some water pooled in an old barrel. My chest filled with jealousy. I ran out of water some time ago and the lack of food and water was becoming painful. He made eye contact with Lucy as she watched him drink. This wasn't the first time he had teased her about her lack of water. Desperate for a sip, she fell to her knees in front of the water, scooping it into her mouth.

"Now you're gettin' it." Cooper mused as he watched her. "How does that golden rule jibe with what's goin' through your head right now?"

"What are you?" Lucy asked angrily.

"Oh I'm you, sweetie, just give it a little time." He responded.

"Because of the radiation poisoning?" I asked, my voice cracking from dehydration.

Cooper turned to me with a serious look on his face, "Not gonna happen to you darlin'."

I gave him a small nod before I squeaked out, "Okay." I trusted him completely.

As a coughing fit took over the ghoul, Lucy took her chance to make a run for it. I was torn between chasing after her and staying to comfort Cooper. Cooper started waving after her, signaling for me to chase her.

"Hey! Stop!" I yelled as I ran after her.

As we rounded the corner, she stopped to stare at the huge crater in the ground. I ran up next to her as I also marveled at the sight. I had never seen anything like that before. Suddenly, Cooper's lasso secured itself around Lucy's midsection as he pulled her down onto the ground.

"Where you think you're goin'? You ain't goin' nowhere." Cooper said as he stepped over her, leaning down to grab her face.

Lucy immediately responded by biting onto his finger and ripping it off with her teeth.

"Oh my god?!" I gasped out as I ran toward them. "Cooper."

He continued to keep his attention on Lucy. "There you are, you little killer." He said as he lifted her to her feet before grabbing ahold of her matching finger and cutting it off with his knife. "Now that right there is the closest thing to an honest exchange that we've had so far." He pocketed her finger before reaching down to pick up his own. "Here darlin'," He said as he handed me the rope that was tied to Lucy.

I hesitantly took it as I watched him rummage around in his pack for a small rag to wrap his finger in.

"You don't hurt, right?" I asked him.

"Don't feel a thing, sugar." He said smiling as he took the rope back from me.

This exchange seemed to have depleted Lucy's resolve completely as she quietly obeyed from there on out. It wasn't long after that that we reached an old building with the word SuperDuperMart written on it. It was surrounded by a broken-down fence and had some old cars in the front of the building. I was nervous, but Cooper's confidence calmed me as we approached the building.

"Transaction," Cooper said as he pressed on some sort of communication device. He threw his bag into the dirt next to him. He looked tired.

"Yes?" Someone responded.

"Two month's supply of vials. Exchange one female mint condition." He stated before looking over at Lucy's hand, "Near mint condition."

"Condition grading requires physical evaluation. Please send her in." The voice responded, there was something strange about the voice that I couldn't recognize. It almost didn't sound human.

The door to the building buzzes and slowly opens. Lucy watched it with concern evident in her eyes, "What's in there?" She asked.

"You're about to find out," Cooper replies as he cuts the rope that bound her wrists.

"You're selling me?" Lucy asks, a look of disbelief on her face.

Cooper pulls a gun from his hip and cocks it, "You got problems out here too, sweetheart. Best you try your luck behind that door. Go on." He says as he shoves her.

I watch on from behind Cooper as Lucy shuffles her way into the building, giving a nervous look back before she enters.

Once she enters, Cooper deflates. He was obviously putting on a show for her. Pretending he wasn't as sick as he really was. "Y/n?"

"Cooper?" I ask breathlessly.

Instead of responding, the ghoul collapsed.

"Cooper!" I yell out as I shake him. His eyes are open and he's still awake but for some reason, he was not able to move.

I pushed the button he was using to communicate with the man inside the building. "He can't wait he needs it now!" Only to get no response. "We will give you another person! A female near mint conditon." I say, describing myself.

Cooper whispered out, "No." I could barely hear him.

I crouch down next to him and place his hat next to him, "It's my turn to take care of you." I declared, giving him a sad smile.

I took his gun and tried to shoot the door to break it. I had never used a gun before, so it took me a minute or two to figure out. The glass, however, appeared to be bulletproof.

"Shit," I mumbled before placing the gun on the ground.

I then decided to try and pry the door open with no such luck. I run between the cars around us, searching for anything I can use to open the door. In one of them, I find a crowbar. "Yes!" I yell happily as I run back to the door. I wrestled with it for a while before I finally was able to get the crowbar inside, finally, I had some progress. I yelled out in frustration as I tried to open the door. It was the heaviest thing I have ever felt in my life. Moving it just an inch took more strength than I had, especially in my state.

After a couple minutes of struggling, I collapsed to the ground in exhaustion. I looked over at Cooper only to see he hadn't loved an inch. "Cooper?" I call out as I crawl towards him. I sit next to him and gently lift his head onto my lap, rolling him onto his back. "You'll be okay," I say quietly before looking up at the door. I was hoping that soon they would come out to give him the vials he was owed. The silence felt like it had been going on forever when there were suddenly gunshots coming from inside the building. I help Cooper a little closer, afraid and confused. I grabbed his gun again and held it close to my side.

"I've got you, Coop," I whispered to him.

The building then went silent again. There was a moment before Lucy strolled out the door, covered in blood.

"Lucy? What happened?" I gasp.

"They were going to harvest my fucking organs!" She yelled angrily as she sauntered over to us.

I shakily hold up my gun, causing her to stop in her tracks.

"He doesn't get these, he turns into one of those? That how it works?" She asked, holding up a couple vials.

I lower the gun and start begging. "Please, Lucy."

She crouches down next to him and contemplates for a moment before saying to Cooper, "I may end up looking like you... but I'll never be like you." Before getting up, she gently puts some vials in my hand. "Golden rule, motherfuckers."

"Thank you! Thank you so much!" I cry out happily as I start rummaging through Cooper's pockets searching for his inhaler. "I've got you, I've got you.." I kept repeating as I shakily put the vial in the inhaler and hold it up to his mouth. It takes a couple tries, but ultimately, he gets ahold of it and breathed in the contents. I make a happy squeak as he starts to move again.

He lets out a soft wheeze before saying 'Why the hell would you do that?"

"What?" I asked him confused.

"You were going to fucking sell yourself? For me?" He states angrily as he sits up to a sitting position.

"Well-" I start.

"Well, nothing. Never do that again." He shouts as he stands, pulling me up by my collar. The fear on my face softened him as he released my shirt with a sigh, "I ain't worth it, darlin'."

"You are to me," I say quietly. "You are never getting rid of me."

He lets out a small laugh as he smiles wearily, his resolve dimishing. "You are way too good for me, sugar."

"Well too bad, Cooper. You've got me." I say as kiss him on the cheek.

Just as I was pulling away he grabbed hold of my hip "Come here." He says as his lips crash into mine.

I let out a squeak in surprise before I started to return the kiss. It was sloppy and heated, filled with pent-up emotions. It was everything I wanted.

Tag list: @msrawog @valdemarismynonbinarylove @topiramategreeable @whizbang-cap @sitkafay @lightan117 @eykismyfav @ajeff855 @madelinealexandra @justme12200 @sihlaryn @raviolisenpai @ellabellabunny123 @impossessedbyjeongyeon @leviathanleva @v3lv3tf0x @judgementdays-girl @savanahc @booksbabes @gauky76 @green--beanie

#cooper howard #the ghoul fallout #cooper howard x reader #the ghoul x reader #fallout tv series #fallout

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hiraiologist · 3 months

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keep you in my mouth (and hope to never take you out)

hirai momo x f!reader

synopsis: at first it’s a party. then it’s a study session. then it’s like you’re addicted to her, and you find yourself caught up in everything that is hirai momo.

tags/warnings: ambiguous location but college/university setting, alcohol, drugs, parties, mentions of throwing up, smut (strap, cunnilingus, overstimulation, begging), fluff!, light degradation (reader is referred to as whore and slut lul), friends to lovers, switch!momo ??? idk but momo’s the best girl :]

a/n: i haven’t written for fun in… over 5 years? not since i was in high school… so i'm extremely out of practice SORRY! i’ve definitely regressed (T_T) i wanted this to just be a quick way to get back into writing, so its not all that articulate or anything. i started this last thursday when i was off work bc i was sick and bored, and i was gonna post it over the weekend but then with seollal and going back to work, i kinda forgot about it. partially ib my own college experience :p i feel obligated to say don’t do drugs and don’t drink underage but…! title from flashing room by 2am club. not proofread!

the resounding thump of the bass sinks into your skin, replacing the steady beat beneath your ribs.

you feel a body next to you—someone’s pushing past you across the room, their sweat smearing across your exposed forearm. it’s damp and uncomfortably cool, an off-putting and striking contrast to the heat of the crowd. you stop dancing and frown. you turn to your left, pinching a piece of your friend’s shirt between your fingers, wiping the sweat onto the dark fabric. chaeyoung stops moving to the music and swats your hand away.

“what are you doing?”

“someone touched me,” you wrinkle your nose. “it was sweaty.”

“so you wiped it on me instead?” the shorter girl glares up at you, though her eyes twinkle with mirth—or maybe it’s just the reflection from the led light strips on the walls. she pulls out her phone to check the time. “i need another drink before we go. c’mon, let’s go find tzuyu and dahyun.”

you shrug as the two of you link fingers and begin to find your way back to the makeshift bar for more drinks. you’re already drunk—yooyeon’s playing bartender tonight and you’ve been taking advantage of it as much as possible.

“ladies,” yooyeon greets as you approach her table. she spreads her hands over a few stacks of cups filled with red liquid. “what can i get you this time?”

the options are pretty limited. actually, there’s really only one option: a delightfully strong mixture of jungle juice made oh so lovingly by yooyeon and jiwon.

“you’re hilarious,” you say flatly as you roll your eyes at her. she just cackles and starts fixing up two new cups. “have i ever told you that you’re my favorite bartender?”

“that’ll break jiwon’s heart,” she replies with a laugh. “but i won’t tell if you won’t.” she holds out the drinks with both hands.

chaeyoung accepts one of the cups and takes a long swig. “hey, we’re actually probably heading out soon. going to a kickback with some friends,” she says to yooyeon. you take the other cup and swallow some of the jungle juice. it’s your third cup of the night, so maybe you’re just drunk, but it tastes divine. you’re pretty sure that, at the very least, it tastes better than the tequila shots you’d downed earlier with chaeyoung before leaving your apartment.

yooyeon pouts. “why?” she leans in towards the two of you. “don’t go. you guys practically just got here.”

you shake your head. “no can do. we promised jihyo we’d go to her place tonight.” on another night, you might stay, watch jiwon do a few lines in the bathroom, drink more alcohol until your vision starts to blur, maybe let yooyeon or jiwon—or both—put delicate hands up your shirt and leave bruises on your hips. tonight, though, you’re going to a kickback held by one of your closest friends, jihyo, and you’ll consume enough substances to ensure you wake up with your head pounding, mouth dry, body aching all over.

it’s going to be fun, you think to yourself. you chug some more jungle juice, finishing your cup more quickly than you’d intended. chaeyoung’s texting tzuyu, instructing her to meet you guys by yooyeon’s setup. as the alcohol sets into your bloodstream, your skin warms, a muted blush settling on your cheeks.

chaeyoung spots tzuyu and dahyun walking towards yooyeon’s table and waves them over. yooyeon pours two more drinks and offers them out to your friends as they approach.

“thanks yooyeon!” tzuyu happily tips her cup back into her mouth. dahyun does the same, though she only takes a small mouthful. you’re pretty sure she’s sober. you’ve been at the house for about an hour, but you know she’s only been occasionally stealing sips from everybody’s drinks instead of just getting one of her own. really, you’re a little grateful that she’s not drunk—you know that by the end of the night, most of you will be too inebriated to get home properly without help. dahyun’s always been a little less raucous than the rest of the girls, but it doesn’t seem to bother her. dahyun hands her barely-touched cup to you to finish and you flash her a playful grin with a wink.

“finish your drinks and we’ll go. i’ll go ahead and call an uber now,” dahyun directs while pulling out her phone. the rest of you nod and tap your cups together in a cheers. a few moments pass before dahyun slips her phone back into her pocket and announces, “okay, he’ll be here in… six minutes. jihyo said nayeon and mina are already there.”

yooyeon makes eye contact with you. “will you guys come back later?” her eyes are hopeful, bright—she’s more a puppy than a party girl. but you’d rather be with your other friends, so you just shoot her an apologetic expression.

“not tonight,” you shake your head. “but maybe we’ll see you later this weekend or something?”

before yooyeon can respond, you hear someone squeal from a few feet away. “guys! what are you doing here?” you all turn to find sana skipping towards your group, a huge smile on her face.

“sana!” the four of you yell simultaneously, pulling her into hugs with each of you. she’s beaming wildly. you didn’t know she was here; if you’d seen her earlier, you would’ve dragged her onto the dance floor and probably made her your drinking buddy. sana’s a little older than you and she’s infinitely cool. you’d met her at a party last year, where she’d pulled trig for chaeyoung after knowing her for about an hour. you’d all instantly fallen for her, and she was a welcome addition to your group. sana was confidence and optimism wrapped in sex on legs—but she was also undeniably cute, with her bubbly personality and squishy cheeks. she’d easily become one of your closest confidants, spending time with you every week, showering you with affection and giving you advice whenever you were struggling. her status as a social butterfly also meant that she has a lot of other friends, so your group of four—you, tzuyu, chaeyoung, and dahyun—had rapidly expanded to a group of ten, with sana bringing her best friend momo into the fold, then jihyo, mina, jeongyeon, and nayeon with them. but sana’s infinite list of friends turns her into a pretty busy girl, so when chaeyoung had invited her out with you all tonight, she’d politely declined, stating her previously-arranged plans with momo and jeongyeon.

“i thought you were hanging out with jeongyeon and momo?” you look at sana in excitement.

“i am! well, jeongyeon had to go home early because she’s got a test tomorrow morning, but momo’s here. she’s talking to yoona right now,” sana points a few feet away at momo, engrossed in conversation with another girl you vaguely recognize. “wait, this is great! we can all hang out!”

“actually,” tzuyu interjects, “we’re leaving right now. but we’re heading to jihyo’s! nayeon and mina are there right now. will you come with us?”

“i’m down, but let me ask momo,” she giggles before bounding towards the older girl. she taps the girl on the shoulder and yoona offers them both a wave, walking off to find her friends in another room. sana starts to talk to momo; after a moment, she points over at your group and momo turns to glance at you all. her gaze seems to drag over you slowly. then she looks back at sana and says something, prompting sana to grin and tug at her arm, dragging the girl towards you. dahyun, chaeyoung, and tzuyu all give her a quick hug and big smiles.

momo pulls you into a hug last, her firm arms wrapped around you tightly as sana exclaims, “momo said she’s down to go to jihyo’s!”

“we should probably head outside, then,” dahyun suggests. “it would suck if we missed our uber.” you all nod and start to find your way to the door. you quickly turn towards yooyeon and send her a wave. the girl perks up and shoots you a smile before you turn back around and follow chaeyoung out the house to the front.

you all stand outside, chatting idly amongst yourselves as dahyun watches for the right car to pull up. eventually, she spots what must be your uber and walks up to the vehicle, waving at the driver as they roll down their window. the rest of you trail behind her.

“for dahyun?” when the driver nods, she continues, “uh, so we have six people, actually. is that okay?” dahyun smiles sheepishly at the uber driver and bites her lip. he looks at you all warily and sighs.

“yeah, sure. it’s not like we’re going very far, i guess.”

tzuyu climbs into the passenger seat while chaeyoung scoots into the middle seat in the back. dahyun takes the seat to the right of chaeyoung, with sana climbing into her lap naturally. you quickly realize your predicament as the rest of the girls settle into the uber. you turn to momo and say, “you can sit on me. if that’s okay.”

the girl’s cheeks instantly turn the prettiest shade of pink you’ve ever seen. “oh! um, okay. sure. thanks.”

you open the door on the left and climb into the last seat. once you’re seated, you look back at momo and smile. she quickly gets in, sitting awkwardly on your lap. you reach for the door handle with one hand, close the door, then snake your hand around the girl’s waist, pulling her towards you more tightly. she squeaks a little, but shifts her body more to settle comfortably against you. your uber driver eyes you all in the backseat with a tired expression before driving off slowly.

“this top looks really good on you, by the way,” you say, lips twitching into a small grin. you play a little with the ends of her hair before dropping your fingers to brush along her shirt. she stares at the floor.

“thanks,” she replies quietly. her cheeks are red when she looks up and her eyes dart away when she notices you’re looking at her face.

the rest of the ride is filled by your friends’ conversations and your driver’s playlist coming low through the speakers of the car, your fingers rubbing circles into momo’s hip soothingly as you feel her take quiet, even breaths. you’re almost disappointed when the uber stops in front of jihyo’s apartment.

when you arrive at jihyo’s door, jihyo welcomes you all with a hug and ushers you inside. she leads you to the kitchen, where nayeon and mina are chatting next to the table covered with an array of drinks. you greet nayeon and mina with hugs as well, chatting with them for a minute before you decide to make a few cherry bombs for everyone. the girls seem to have found their spots in the apartment: tzuyu, dahyun, and chaeyoung are sitting on the floor in jihyo’s living room while sana and momo fumble with jihyo’s speaker system, squabbling over jihyo’s phone to try to queue up a few more songs. nayeon, jihyo, and mina continue to chat while they watch you in the kitchen as you mix cherry vodka with redbull. when you’ve prepared a few shot glasses, you offer them to nayeon and jihyo, knowing mina won’t be drinking. you all quickly down your shots and nayeon and jihyo excuse themselves to go find a game to play, leaving you in the kitchen with mina. she offers to take two of the shots over to sana and momo, and you agree. you grab the remaining three shots, find dahyun, chaeyoung, and tzuyu in the living room, and watch as they knock back their cherry bombs.

you plop down on the floor next to chaeyoung, letting out an excited giggle when she produces a small tin from her pocket and pulls out a perfectly rolled joint. as she lights it and begins to take a hit, you look towards the speaker where you spot sana and momo laughing with mina. you observe them for a moment before you feel chaeyoung tapping at your shoulder, offering you the joint. you take a hit and hand it back to chaeyoung. dahyun and tzuyu get up; you vaguely register them saying something about finding some ping pong balls. you and chaeyoung chat quietly, asking “would you rather” questions, passing the joint back and forth until eventually it’s reduced to nothing and you’re forced to stub it out. by now, the combination of the weed and alcohol has you feeling light and slightly dizzy, but it’s pleasant and you’re smiling a little dopily. chaeyoung pulls you up with her when she sees tzuyu across the room, setting up a table to play beer pong.

“tzu! i wanna play!” chaeyoung exclaims happily. “can i play?”

“sure,” the taller girl agrees easily. “you can be my partner. y/n, wanna play?”

“wait, who else is playing?”

tzuyu shrugs. “go find someone!” you glance around; mina’s sitting on the couch with dahyun, both tapping away at their phones. nayeon and jihyo are sitting at the table in the kitchen, already playing some kind of card game. you start to walk off to look for sana and momo and tzuyu calls after you, “oh, get sana! she needs to get on our level!”

you find sana in the kitchen with momo. you quickly grab another cup, mixing vodka with soda haphazardly, taking a big gulp as you bound up to sana. “i’m drunk,” you state the obvious with a giggle. “and you need to catch up! let’s play beer pong with chae and tzuyu!” you point your cup towards sana, who giggles back at you, takes the cup, shares a look with momo.

“thanks, y/n!” she hums as she sips at the drink. “actually, i think you might regret recruiting me for beer pong,” she winks at you and hands your cup to momo, who tilts her head at you for approval. you nod quickly and she takes a long drink before handing the cup back to you. “but momo would love to be your partner tonight!”

you beam at the other girl hopefully. “would you really? please?” momo looks at you with wide eyes, seemingly caught off guard. she sneaks a glance at sana, who just bats her eyes innocently.

“oh, sure,” she agrees quickly. “i’m down.” you cheer as you grab her hand and guide her towards the table where chaeyoung and tzuyu are setting up the cups and pouring beer into each one. you chug a bit more of your drink, which has dwindled down to just a few more mouthfuls. you offer the rest to momo, then pout when you realize you don’t have anything else to drink, making sana laugh from behind you. she walks back to the kitchen as you and momo take your places at one end of the table, chaeyoung and tzuyu at the other. it’s decided that you and momo will go first. momo gestures at you to go ahead, and you grab one of the ping pong balls and eye the pyramid of cups across from you.

before you can toss the ball, sana returns with two new drinks, places one on the small table by the couch. she points at it and says, “that’s for you, y/n. when you’re done playing.” she takes a sip from the other drink still in her hand.

“thanks,” you nod at her words, focusing intently on your form. you decide to just go for it, casually arching the ball forward, watching as it sinks cleanly into one of the cups in front of tzuyu. “yes!”

momo whoops. “nice.” she offers her hand out for a high-five. tzuyu takes the cup, removes the ball, drinks the beer. momo quickly finishes off the drink you’d given her, adding it to the cup tzuyu drank to start a stack on the side, then moves to take her shot. she hesitates for quite a while before eventually throwing the ball. it bounces off the side of one cup, but falls into the one next to it. you cheer loudly as momo’s eyes widen and she turns to face you, a giddy expression on her face. you sneak a quick peck on her cheek, delight in the way the skin pinkens immediately as momo looks at you bashfully. chaeyoung takes the cup out, removing the ball before downing the contents inside. she boos half-heartedly but she’s smiling as she hands both ping pong balls back to you.

you immediately toss one across the table. it bounces off a cup and drops onto the table. you pout. “ugh. got too cocky. redeem us, momo!” but momo misses her shot, too, so you hand the balls to chaeyoung and tzuyu.

tzuyu tosses her ball quickly and it immediately falls into a cup in front of you. you grab the cup, take the ball out, drink the beer, add the cup to the stack. chaeyoung takes her position, squinting momentarily across the table before shooting the ball, landing it in a cup next to momo. the older girl grabs the cup, takes the ball out and hands it back to chaeyoung before tossing the beer back into her mouth. a droplet of beer shines at the corner of her mouth. without thinking, you lean forward and wipe at it with your finger before popping it into your mouth to clean it off. momo stares at you, but you don’t seem to notice. tzuyu and chaeyoung take their shots again. tzuyu lands her ball in a cup—momo drinks it quickly—but chaeyoung misses hers. they hand the balls back to you and momo. you arc one ball perfectly into a cup. momo’s turn is kind of disastrous; she throws the ball towards the cups, but it ends up smacking chaeyoung in the tit.

“sorry!” momo squeaks. chaeyoung just laughs and waves her off. the game keeps going, but it quickly becomes obvious that chaeyoung and tzuyu are going to win. you only land your ball into the cups two more times, and momo misses every shot she takes, looking all the more distracted as each round passes. eventually, you and momo lose pretty spectacularly. jihyo and nayeon push you both out of the way to take on chaeyoung and tzuyu.

disgruntled, you grab the drink sana made for you and take a gulp. “i can’t believe we lost!” you wail as momo follows you to the kitchen.

momo shrugs. “we’ll get ’em next time,” she promises, wrapping her arms around you from behind. you settle against her with a sigh.

“you’re so…” you gesture a little vaguely at her body, “comfy?” you finish, pulling momo’s arms around you even tighter. “like, you’re firm. you have really nice muscles and... you know. but you’re super cozy.” she hums in your ear as you lift your cup to your lips again.

“thanks,” she laughs. “i mean, i eat a lot. but i work out a lot too.”

“oh, i’ve noticed. your body always looks so good,” you continue absentmindedly before you pull away from her to look her in the eyes, slightly embarrassed. “i—it’s not like i stare. i just mean i wish i had your athleticism, you know? i don’t really know how to work out, and i don’t have a whole lot of stamina.” that causes momo’s mouth to twitch into a subtle smirk and you flush. your tongue suddenly feels very dry, and you’re not exactly sure it’s cotton mouth.

“well, maybe i could help you with that,” momo quips before she steals a bit of your drink and starts to move to the music blaring from jihyo’s speaker, and it pushes you to dance as well. after a song or two, momo’s hands make their way around your waist and you let your arms wrap around her neck, your cup dangling over her shoulder. it registers in your mind that you like this—like momo pressed against your body, like big brown eyes twinkling as she grins at you, like momo’s laugh vibrating against your chest. you smile at her as you dance together, your friends jumping and singing along to the music around you as they toss ping pong balls at each other.

everyone else seems to be preoccupied, not paying any attention to you and momo. you hardly realize that momo’s been guiding you towards the bathroom until she pushes the door open, closes it behind you, shoves you against the wall. her eyes bore into yours, looking for your approval before she leans in to kiss you. you close the distance, bringing a hand up to cradle her jaw. it feels incredibly intimate as she runs a hand from your neck down your side, eventually resting it on your hip. you continue to kiss her softly, sighing into her mouth as she lets out quiet hums of approval. after a while, she licks into your mouth, nips at your bottom lip, and you gasp as things begin to progress quickly from there.

her teeth tug at the skin of your throat. you try to suppress a moan, but it rips out of your mouth before you can stop it, and momo laughs, kisses you again. “maybe,” she breathes against your lips, “we should get out of here.” you nod enthusiastically, connect your lips again, savor the taste of her peach chapstick. you follow her out of the bathroom. you go to the front door, grabbing your belongings while momo walks up to the rest of the girls, all still either dancing or playing beer pong, says to them, “i think y/n isn’t feeling great. maybe she drank too much? and i’m kind of tired anyway, so i’m gonna take her home. we’ll see you later.” she leans in to whisper something privately to sana, who squeals and shoves momo’s shoulder. then sana waves you both off, turning back to cheer jihyo on as she tosses a ping pong ball into a cup.

and then you’re out the door, stumbling as you walk the few short minutes to momo’s place, giggling as momo pulls you into her arms every few steps to kiss you exuberantly.

you’ve never actually been to momo’s apartment, you realize. it’s nice; it’s relatively simple, a comfortable lived-in vibe filling the space. in the back of your mind, behind the haze of tequila shots, jungle juice, cherry bombs, beer, and weed, you remember that this isn’t just momo’s apartment—this is also sana and nayeon’s new apartment, the three having just moved in together recently.

you follow momo to one of the rooms, presumably hers. as she punches the numbers into her keypad, you take a moment to check your phone. you have a text from chaeyoung.

text me when you get home please, it reads.

not sure when i’ll be home but i’m okay! i’m at momo’s, you respond before following momo through the door.

quietly, you take a moment to observe momo’s room. it’s cozy, photos adorning the walls along with a bunch of figurines momo must like. there are a few drawings hung on the walls, too, and if you lean in, you can see on each of them a signature that looks kind of like momo’s name.

before you can get a closer look, though, momo’s running her fingers down your arm, pressing feather-light kisses against the back of your neck and your shoulders. you turn and wrap your arms around her neck, pulling her into a proper kiss as she settles her hands along your waist. she kisses you with vigor, smiling as you respond just as fervently. she pushes you lightly, the backs of your knees hitting her mattress, making you fall backwards onto the bed. she makes quick work of your clothes, pulling your top and pants off as she kisses down your skin. momo takes her shirt off and you stare at her muscular arms and abs in reverence. your jaw drops when she pulls off her bra next; her boobs are actually perfect. it’s like she’s not even real. she smirks as she pulls her pants down her legs and kicks them to the floor, shaking you from your daze. then she crawls back on top of you, leaves another hickey on your chest, strokes your hair.

“if you wanna stop at any point, just tell me.” her voice is gentle but insistent, and you nod.

“same here,” you respond, and she sends you a little smile that’s entirely too cute for her own good.

she undoes the clasp of your bra, throws it somewhere to the side and momo descends immediately, full lips around your nipple, sucking hard and assertive, the other one rolled between two fingers. after you begin panting, she switches sides, makes sure to pay attention to both of your breasts as you let out lewd moans and sighs.

you lose yourself like that for a while as she pleasures your tits before eventually she removes her mouth from your chest, shifts up a little, grinds down on your thigh—you can feel the heat from between her legs, the soaked fabric of her panties pressing down onto your skin. you let out a whine.

“you sound so pretty for me, baby,” momo breathes into your collarbone. she sucks a dark hickey at the base of your throat. you moan again, the sound vibrating against momo’s lips. you let your hand drift down towards her clothed core, rubbing circles against the wet spot on her panties. she lets out a whimper, and you push her a little so she sits up. you easily pull her panties off, let them fall to the floor. you use your fingers to tease at her folds, coating them in her slick. you start to rub circles on her clit and she lets out a series of breathy, high-pitched whines. you keep going like that for a while, momo pulling you down to make out with her as you stimulate her clit. soon, momo’s body is shaking. “i need your fingers in me, y/n,” she chokes out.

you hum. “ask me nicely.”

“please, y/n. please fuck me with your fingers.” you lick your lips and nod.

you start by easing one finger inside her, thrusting in and out until she’s whimpering softly. then, you add another finger, curling them both upwards as you sink them into her pussy, caressing her g-spot. momo groans, low and sensual, as you start to fuck into her with your fingers. with each thrust, your palm makes contact with her clit, and eventually her head starts to loll back, loud moans rising out of her mouth.

you think you could get addicted to this—her sounds, her heat, her pleasure. it’s enough to get you dripping.

“i’m gonna cum,” momo gasps out. “oh, fuck—i’m—”

you nearly cum when her orgasm takes over, grunts and whines falling from her lips as she shudders and gushes onto your fingers. you slow down, rub at her clit gently a few times before eventually pulling your fingers out. you shove them into momo’s mouth. “suck,” you command, and she does so immediately, tongue flicking around your digits. “good girl.” you take your fingers out and immediately pull her into a kiss, licking into her mouth and tasting her cum on her tongue, sweet and tangy and a little salty.

yeah, you could definitely get addicted to this.

for a while, you kiss her like that, her heavy breathing eventually evening out as she recovers from her climax. slowly, momo slides her hand downwards, stopping at the edge of your panties. she circles the hem of your underwear, presses a kiss into your neck again. your breath catches in your throat. you’re positively soaked. momo moves down, settles between your thighs. she kisses at the wetness on your panties, reaches up, pulls them down your legs, over your thighs, tosses them away from the bed. she kisses your clit and you whimper. you look down and oh—she makes eye contact with you, smirks, licks into your slit, collecting your slick on her warm tongue.

momo sucks at your clit just as unrelentingly as she had your nipple, and you’ve always been so sensitive. you’re moaning, breath ragged, body shaking as momo licks at your cunt.

you’re so drenched, momo easily slips two fingers in and starts pumping them in and out. the feeling of her fingers curling into your g-spot makes you gasp, and she keeps darting her tongue against your clit, licking against your labia, spreading your wetness around her mouth. you moan loudly and your hands fall to grip at her head, grasping into her hair.

you let out a strangled, “oh fuck, momo, oh my god—” as her fingers fuck into you, tongue licking broadly against your folds and flicking against your clit. her lips wrap around your bud and she sucks, the sensation sending you over the edge. “momo, i’m gonna cum, ’m gonna—fuck—”

your body goes slack as you cum powerfully, momo still lapping at your folds, sucking around your clit and thrusting her fingers into you. eventually, she pulls away, lets you lay there as you recover, brushes your hair out of your face. she gets up off the bed and says, “be right back.” then she’s rummaging through her drawers as you close your eyes, trying to catch your breath.

you notice her shadow looming over you when she returns. “so,” momo breathes out, tugging at your hair. you let out a whimper. “i have something else i’d like to try with you, if you’re up for it?” you open your eyes and look at her, see the harness and pink silicone dildo in her hands. instantly, you sit up and surge towards her, kissing her desperately. she pulls away with a laugh and says, “i’ll take that as a yes, then.”

before you know it, you’re face down on the bed, on your hands and knees, elbows resting on her pillow, back arched and legs spread. momo runs her hands down your back as you shiver, grips your left hip, uses her other hand to rub the tip of the shaft along your dripping slit. she teases you leisurely and you quickly begin to grow impatient. you whine pathetically, “more. i need all of you. please, momo.”

momo’s mouth quirks up in satisfaction. “you’re a greedy little whore, huh?” but she complies, places the head against your pussy, pushes the tip in, doesn’t wait for you to adjust and slides the length all the way into you in one movement. you grasp tightly at the sheets beneath you, letting out a low moan. momo slowly pulls out, looks smug at the slickness spread along the strap, pushes back inside you with a giggle. she pulls out again, repeats the action, thrusting harder and quicker each time, hands gripping your ass firmly. she’s found a good rhythm and she lets out a deep groan. you feel yourself clench at the sound, thighs quivering as pleasure surges throughout you.

she continues to fuck into you deeply until eventually your arms begin to give out; she slows momentarily, pulls out completely, grabs your hips and flips you over so you’re on your back, staring up at her. she lines up the dildo against your cunt again, buries the shaft in you, but she doesn’t move. instead, she smirks down at you as you begin to whimper desperately.

“what is it, baby? use your words.”

“momo,” you gasp out, “please move, please.”

she tilts her head. you’re squirming, trying to fuck yourself on her dick, but momo’s strong, holding you in place, preventing you from finding your own pleasure. “beg properly,” she drawls, “and maybe i’ll think about it.”

“will you please move, momo? i’ll do anything, baby, please, i need your cock so bad,” you cry. “please fuck me, please i’ll be such a good slut for you, momo, just please move, please.”

“how cute,” she coos before she starts fucking you at the same pace as before, hitting hard and deep inside you every time. you’re gasping and grunting each time she thrusts, her round eyes shining in amusement as she stares down at you. you eventually break eye contact when you glance at her body.

the sight of momo’s toned abs and round tits glistening with a thin layer of sweat nearly makes you lose your mind, and you claw desperately at her arms. she starts rubbing at your clit with one hand, the other holding you down securely by your waist. the combined stimulation sends you into overdrive, and your breath hitches, vision begins to blur, body shakes frantically with momo’s name falling from your lips repeatedly as your orgasm ripples through every part of you.

as you come down from your high, momo slips out of you, making you exhale sharply as you adjust to the loss. you feel completely wrecked, pussy raw and sore from the intensity of momo’s actions. she quickly leaves to bring you some towels and a glass of water. she returns with a soft expression; the two of you lay together as she gently, carefully wipes you down. you sip at your water gratefully, finishing the entire glass, but you can feel fatigue engulfing your body. she practically carries you to the bathroom, where she lends you a spare toothbrush and leaves you to use the toilet. when you’re finished, she really does pick you up this time, setting you gently on her bed, pulling the sheets up over your body. you barely manage to whisper out a “thank you” before you’re passed out, surrounded by momo’s scent and breathing peacefully. momo just smiles, tucks your hair behind your ear, presses a soft kiss against your forehead. as you fall into a deep slumber, she gets up, folds your clothes and puts them in a tote bag, finds your phone. noticing your almost-dead battery, she plugs it into a spare charger. then she crawls into bed next to you, turns off her light, and falls asleep to the soothing rise and fall of your chest next to her.

you roll over, eyes sticky with exhaustion and haziness. your body aches, and you reach a heavy hand out to find your phone. you feel around for a few moments before your phone is pushed gently into your hand. startled, you blink a few times and sit up.

momo lays next to you, body half-covered by the sheets, lips cut into a smirk. “good morning,” she husks quietly. “sleep well?” you stare at her for a moment. you’re aware that you’re both still naked, and you try not to think about her flawless chest and delicious abs.

“uh, good morning. yes. yeah. uh, i… i did. did you?” your brain feels all jumbled and looking at momo doesn’t seem to help.

“sure did,” she drawls with a grin, all teeth and rosy cheeks. “your phone’s being blowing up all morning, by the way.” you look down at the device and unlock the screen. your notifications are flooded with missed calls and texts from your friends—sana and chaeyoung’s names seem to take up the majority of them. noticing the time, your eyes widen comically.

“holy shit,” you breathe, head snapping up to look at momo. “uh… fuck. i am so sorry.”

her head tilts, adorably confused. “what for?” she shifts forward, reaching for your torso. she tugs at you a little until she’s snuggled against your body, burying her head into your side and wrapping an arm around your midsection.

“uh.” it seems to be your favorite word this morning. “for staying here so long? i didn’t mean to fall asleep here, i swear.” momo just laughs softly and closes her eyes.

“i don’t mind,” she sighs into your skin. your heart starts to beat a little faster.

“are you sure?”

she hums. “yeah. i even made breakfast, if you’re ready to eat. i wouldn’t have done that if i weren’t okay with you staying here.” her tone is teasing, but you can feel the sincerity in her voice. it makes you blush.

you squeak, “you made breakfast?”

“mm,” she responds. “just before you woke up. should still be warm. you still like waffles, yeah?”

“uh,” you repeat. you mentally kick yourself—where is your eloquence? “waffles are… good. hey, is sana here? and nayeon?”

her lips twitch. “would i have made breakfast naked if they were?” you turn bright red. “nayeon decided to head over to jeongyeon’s last night,” momo continues, “and dahyun took sana home with her and tzuyu. neither of them will be back until later.”

“oh, okay,” you exhale. “right. so, uh…” you don’t quite know how to say the words.

“hey, if you’re worried about this ruining our friendship,” momo starts, fiddling with her fingers, “we don’t have to make it anything more than just a hookup. we don’t even have to mention it again, if you’d like. i don’t mind. it’s your call.”

instantly, you flush, embarrassed that she’s read you so easily. “i’m sorry,” you say quickly. “it’s just—last night was incredible, beyond incredible, and you were so good, really, but i just don’t want this to make things weird between us. you’re one of my best friends and i like being with you, you know?” stop talking, you think. momo raises an eyebrow and you can’t help but continue, “not like that—or, well, maybe like that, if that’s something you want, because i definitely wouldn’t be opposed.” oh my god, stop! talking! your cheeks are hot and you look down at the floor.

momo lets out a laugh and reaches for your hand, prompting you to look back up at her. “y/n, it’s okay. i’m not, like, offended or anything. i totally get it. i’d never want to jeopardize our friendship, either. but it doesn’t have to make things weird. because i also like being with you, whether it ends like it did last night or not. no pressure. we don’t have to do anything you don’t want. we can just go with the flow.” she sends you a comforting smile. “how about we eat breakfast now? before it goes cold.”

“sure,” you agree, “but i might need help walking over there.”

momo’s proud smirk that follows replays in your mind even weeks later.

when you’d come home the day after jihyo’s kickback, chaeyoung had asked about your sleepover at momo’s, but she didn’t seem to think much of it. miraculously, none of the girls had noticed the array of hickeys that momo had left all over your body, or wondered why you’d spent the rest of the weekend entirely in bed, only moving to get ready.

before you’d left her apartment that day, you’d mustered up the courage to lean in to kiss her, and momo had closed the distance before saying goodbye sweetly. you’d given in and texted momo not even two hours later, and ever since then, you’ve been chatting back and forth with the older girl, messages flirtier than they’ve ever been, tension accumulating as the weeks go by. you see momo a lot when you hang out with your friends, and nobody seems to think anything of it when she intertwines her fingers with yours or pulls you into frequent hugs, hands gripping at your waist. you hang out with her alone, too, though it’s all been completely friendly so far, with only your texts to insinuate there might be something else between you. you won’t say it to her, but you really wouldn’t mind if she just kissed you sometimes, or edged you in the bathroom during lunch, maybe.

on one morning, between classes, you go for coffee with her and sana—invitation extended by momo followed by a mouthwatering mirror pic of her, post-workout, abs gleaning with sweat and thumb hooked into the front of her joggers, along with the message working on my stamina. needless to say, you’d nearly forgotten about the coffee entirely.

“you guys seem to have gotten really close recently,” sana remarks as momo goes to pick up your orders. the two of you sit at a table, observing the oldest girl as she thanks the barista and starts to carry the tray back over to you.

“well, we were close before,” you say, trying to not sound too affected. “but i guess we have been hanging out a lot more recently.” momo takes her seat then, passing out your drinks and pastries. sana just hums and fails to hide a smile behind her cold brew. you cough.

before you head to your next class, sana pulls you aside as momo’s tossing away your trash. “just so you know,” she whispers, “i think you should go for it. if you like her, i mean. you’re totally momo’s type.”

before you can respond, momo’s standing in front of you, doe eyes sparkling as she swings her bag over her shoulder. sana winks at you.

you bid them both goodbye and make your way to class. it’s kind of funny—the entire time, all you can think about is sana saying you’re totally momo’s type. you try to ignore how the thought sets your skin on fire.

you have statistics class with tzuyu, jihyo, and momo every tuesday and thursday at 10 a.m.

only now, you start to notice momo—she always sits at the end of the row next to tzuyu, while you sit in between tzuyu and jihyo. momo’s quietly immersed in her phone most of the time. she doesn’t really take notes, or even listen to your professor. in fact, whenever your eyes find her, she’s always staring into space or typing something on her phone. sometimes you catch her with her notebook open and pencil scrawling something across the pages, but you can see she’s just doodling. you wonder what her grade is. after all, you spend half your time in this class playing games and texting with tzuyu, and the both of you are barely clinging to a low B as it is. jihyo, on the other hand, is always focused—her hard-earned A is the reflection of her determination and work ethic.

you subtly begin to switch seats with tzuyu so you can sit next to momo. tzuyu doesn’t really seem to notice or care, but one day, after a couple weeks, jihyo asks you about it as you slide into a seat, five minutes early for class.

“why are you sitting there?”

“huh?” you say smartly, pulling out your notebook and pencil. jihyo does the same, but she gives you a look.

“tzuyu usually sits next to momo. what, you don’t like sitting next to me anymore?”

“oh! no, that’s not it. uh, i guess i just didn’t notice.” you hope it comes out as casual as possible. jihyo gives you another look, which you ignore, and pulls out her stuff, settling into her seat.

“momo! hey!” at jihyo’s words, you nearly break your neck looking up so quickly. jihyo tries to stifle a guffaw.

“hey jihyo,” momo glances towards you and her eyes sparkle more brightly. “hi, y/n.”

“hi momo,” you reply breathlessly. again, you pay no mind to the giant grin jihyo’s sending your way.

momo drops into the seat next to you, scoots a little closer to you, her leg brushing against yours. your breath falters slightly. jihyo suppresses a cackle; you ignore her resolutely. “are you guys ready for the test next week?”

“wait, there’s a test next week?” you squeak.

“hey, you should’ve been paying attention,” jihyo tsks. “i invited you the other day to come to my study session. at least tzuyu actually showed up.”

“well, we can still study until the test,” momo offers. she glances at you. “y/n, what do you think?”

“oh, uh,” you look at momo. “sure. i could use the extra help. i mean, tzuyu and i…” you peek over at jihyo sheepishly. “well, yeah. i could use the extra help.” momo lets out a laugh and you blush.

jihyo rolls her eyes. “oh, now you want to study together? hey, you missed your chance.”

you wince. “sorry about that again. it’s just… well, i just didn’t feel like studying.” momo can’t help but giggle again at that. secretly, you’re preening inside at the sound.

“you can study with me,” momo leans closer to you. you stare at her, brain faltering at her close proximity. “i might not be a genius like jihyo, but i’m good. good enough to have an A, at least.”

you’re about to respond when tzuyu hurls herself into the seat between you and jihyo. “hey guys! did i miss anything?”

“hey tzuyu,” momo looks at her. “no, not yet. we were just saying we should study together again before the unit test, maybe next week?” you all agree and begin to make plans, but quickly quiet down when you notice the professor walk in.

the entire lecture, all you can focus on is momo—momo’s leg, pressed against your own—momo’s fingers, tapping every so often along the desk—momo’s perfume, something sweet and citrusy and a little powdery—momo’s jawline, sharp and gorgeous—momo’s eyes, huge and twinkling—

you don’t even notice when class ends, only registering it when momo’s standing up to leave, waggling her fingers teasingly at you as she exits the hall. jihyo and tzuyu gesture for you to hurry up and gather your things. you look down at your notebook, page completely empty save for the words stop staring at me in momo’s cute handwriting scrawled next to a heart.

jihyo and tzuyu exchange a look as you stare at the paper. when you peer up at them, jihyo just laughs. tzuyu rolls her eyes but sends a soft expression towards you. you suddenly feel very dizzy.

you’d spent the week trying to study to prepare for your statistics test, but you didn’t seem to get very far. now, you’re standing in front of momo’s door, textbook in hand with your bag slung over your shoulder as you knock gently.

jihyo and tzuyu had chosen to study on their own, with jihyo ultimately deciding that you would be too distracting for tzuyu to focus if you were together. she’d offered to study with you separately, but you’d instead jumped at the chance to ask momo to study with you. jihyo hadn’t tried to convince you otherwise, just giving you a knowing wink, and momo was more than happy to say yes.

the door opens to reveal a barefaced momo, dressed comfortably in sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt, doe eyes blinking at you behind big round glasses, fluffy hair falling softly around her face. your heart bursts at the sight. she beams at you before pulling you into a hug, shutting the door behind you.

“hey, you,” she greets you fondly. “ready to study, buddy?” you roll your eyes but laugh anyway.

“i guess,” you respond. “but to be completely honest, i’m pretty lost on this whole unit. and not just because i usually spend half of lecture beating tzuyu at candy crush.” momo raises an eyebrow at that. “i mean, i’m not stupid or anything, but it kinda just doesn’t click for me. just to warn you.”

momo just shrugs, gives you a comforting smile. “that’s okay. i’m pretty patient.”

you follow her to her room and you settle on the floor, pulling out your materials. for a while, you’re determined and fully concentrated on your studies. momo’s not wrong: she’s extremely patient, and the way she explains things is direct and simple, and somehow, things start to fall into place, and you grasp the concepts from the unit fairly quickly.

but after a couple hours, your focus begins to waver, and you find yourself incredibly distracted by the slope of momo’s nose, the mole on her neck, the rosiness of her cheeks—

“you’re staring,” momo singsongs, breaking your train of thought. her mouth is configured in a lopsided grin. you blink. “again.”

“sorry,” you say, not feeling very sorry at all. “you’re just really… you know. pretty.”

“i’m pretty?” she smirks at you, leans into your personal space. you nod dumbly and she giggles. she tilts her head forward to capture your lips in a kiss, and you can’t help but sigh. despite her flirty behavior, it’s been almost two months since you’d last kissed, since you’d spent the night with her after jihyo’s party, and you missed it. you missed her.

the two of you collapse onto her bed and kiss lazily for a while; you relish in her gentle touches and natural beauty. she’s so pretty. she’s certainly handsome, too, you think. she’s honestly just the most gorgeous person you’ve ever seen in your entire life. her lips are soft and full, dragging lightly along your jawline before she nips at your throat. you whimper quietly as momo bites down on you again.

statistics long forgotten, you take your top off, toss it to momo’s floor.

momo’s plump lips are pressing hot, wet kisses against the column of your neck. you try to keep your composure, but a guttural moan makes its way out of your mouth and you instantly flush red. momo pulls at your pants, tugging them and your panties down your legs.

momo eats you out until you’re trembling, chest heaving and nothing but moans and broken speech falling from your lips. her lips and chin glisten with your slick, but she just gives you a quick kiss before leaning back down and attaching her mouth around your clit again. you fall apart once, twice, three times—your clit throbs intensely, painfully, too sensitive to keep going. but you don’t tell her to stop, so momo doesn’t stop, and you really like that she doesn’t stop. by the time you’re shuddering your way into a seventh orgasm, you’re limp and mumbling incoherently. momo finally lets up, licks into your mouth instead, your own cum coating your tongue as she kisses you wetly, desperately.

you go home that night feeling complete—and momo completes you again and again and again for hours when you show up at her place a week later, a giant A displayed at the top of your statistics test.

you’re pretty sure you’re addicted to momo.

you hang out with the older girl constantly. you go to movies together, study together, eat meals together. you don’t even go out to parties anymore, unless it’s held by one of your friends, choosing to go out with momo instead. you can’t remember the last time you saw yooyeon or jiwon. it hardly matters when you’re settled between momo’s thighs, lips wrapped around her clit, the sweetness of her cum dancing along every corner of your mouth.

eventually, you’re ending every other night in momo’s room. it doesn’t always involve sex—really, you just feel like being around momo. it’s nice. momo certainly isn’t complaining.

she starts to keep a toothbrush for you in her bathroom, and your clothes begin to mix in with her own closet.

chaeyoung doesn’t text you asking when you’re coming home anymore. instead, she asks if you’re coming over. whenever you swing by what’s technically your apartment with momo in tow, chaeyoung beams hugely at you, gives you a wink or a thumbs up. it’s only mildly embarrassing.

you’ve never had a friend quite like momo—she’s in a league of her own. she’s easily the best hookup you’ve ever had. you feel lucky just to be friends with her.

you think about momo’s taut abs, the way her skilled tongue curls inside you, her incredible stamina. you think about her contagious laugh, her alarmingly loud sneezes, her focused expression when she’s cooking something in the kitchen. you like all of these things about momo. you decide that, yeah, momo feels right. your head starts to spin when you think about what that means.

it dawns on you that this was what you’d been feeling every time you think about momo—want, pure desire, love. you’ve never craved anything or anyone like this before. you never felt want like this, love like this—it never felt right, not unless it was momo.

you’re at dinner with jeongyeon when you finally get the bright idea to actually tell momo you love her.

really, it’s more like jeongyeon hands you the idea on a silver platter.

“you seem happy,” jeongyeon says before biting into a dumpling.

you hum. “i am happy,” you say, not at all surprised to find your thoughts immediately drifting to momo. you begin to space out a bit as you think about all your recent memories with her; it’s not just the sex that’s good, but she makes you feel alive. when you’re with her, you forget about the rest of the world. it feels good to be around her. even just thinking about momo makes you feel at ease, content.

jeongyeon smiles at you, eyes softening. “so you and momo made it official then?”

that jolts you out of your reverie.

“momo—official—we aren’t—what?” you splutter incredulously. you stare at jeongyeon. she just blinks at you.

“you and momo,” she repeats, slower this time. “aren’t you guys, like, dating?” she says it so casually, in between bites of meat—you feel like the world has stopped spinning. “did she finally ask you to be her girlfriend?”

“momo and i are not dating,” you choke out nervously. “where in the world did you get that idea?”

jeongyeon stops chewing, swallows haltingly. “you’re kidding, right?” she sits up straighter, looks you in the eyes. “you guys aren’t subtle. like, at all. you know, we’re polite, not blind. those hickeys aren’t invisible, and you only got away with faking sick so many times before it tipped us off that something was up. plus, you’re always looking at each other with heart eyes. it’s kind of sickening, actually.”

you sit in silence as you absorb this. after a beat, you croak, “so, all of you… know about the sex?” she nods. “i see. well, honestly, i love her. but i’m worried that she’s not there yet.”

jeongyeon looks at you. “y/n, i’m pretty sure everyone knows that momo loves you. like, i’m not kidding, but she’s had a crush on you since you met. just ask sana. she’s been playing wingwoman for momo for months and it was like you were completely blind until the first time you and momo kissed. you know sana called me that night, drunk in dahyun’s bed, both of them shouting at me to start planning the wedding? mina helps momo pick out outfits for your dates. nayeon buys extra groceries because you practically live at their apartment now, and don’t think chaeyoung hasn’t noticed that. don’t even get me started on the updates jihyo and tzuyu send every week.” she decides to make it very clear to you. “momo talks nonstop about you, and the sex isn’t even a quarter of her rambling.” she rolls her eyes, but her lips stretch into a tender smile.

“oh. i guess i should probably do something about this, huh?” you rub your fingers at your neck as jeongyeon just rolls her eyes again.

“yeah,” she responds. “make it simple and just tell her ‘i love you.’”

you unlock momo’s room when you return from dinner and march up to momo, who’s laying on her bed, listening to music and staring at the ceiling absentmindedly. “i love you,” you say to her, feeling completely breathless. she sits up, looks extremely confused, but smiles blindingly at you. “i’m sorry i didn’t say it sooner.” you pause. “all of our friends seem to be under the impression that you love me back, so…” you trail off shyly.

“well, they’re not wrong,” she laughs out. “i do love you back.” you’re blushing, but momo just reaches towards you, pulls you onto her bed next to her. “no need to be sorry, by the way. i told you i was patient.”

that night, you see stars over and over and over as you and momo make love for hours until you’re both ready to pass out.

when your eyes finally shut, the last thing you register before you drift to sleep is momo whispering against your lips, “i love you.” and you think love might just be your new favorite word in the world.

#kpop x reader #kpop imagines #twice x reader #twice imagines #twice momo x reader #twice momo imagines #momo x reader #momo imagines #girl group imagines #kpop #twice #twice momo #hirai momo #twice smut

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runningfrom2am · 3 months

Text

cold nights // part nineteen

summary: you showed him colours he knows he can't see with anyone else.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 3.3k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: tribute!reader and mentor!coriolanus, r is very sweet (too kind for this world. literally.), sunshine x grumpy trope kinda, he falls first, violence typical for the source material, depictions of mental illness, also she's is very smart (as she should), district twelve!reader.

a/n: i'm sorry it took me so long to post this omg i am behind on writing bc i'm so sick but i'm also trying to get ahead on requiem BUT-

Important Announcement!!:

cold nights will officially have a season 3! i wasn't sure but i had a good idea for what the epilogue would be and then i realized it would be so much better as another fully developed idea. so, that will be coming soon!!

my asks are also open to talk about this series! (i do have emoji anons open now too!)

send me any and all of your thoughts! here!

series masterlist // playlist

Coryo smiles as you run up ahead of him, picking up his pace slightly and dropping his bag next to yours.

Some of the others are already stripped down to their bathing suits and running down the dock. It is beautiful here, not that he ever doubted you.

He watches as you peel off your dress, another short one similar to the one you had worn for most of the time he'd known you. This one wasn't sewn in at the middle, so you can slip it quickly over your head. Your bathing suit must have been homemade, too, and it allowed him to see how the bruises and scratches on your back were all but healed while you toss your dress to the ground. He notices quickly that it was exactly the same as Lucy Gray's, maybe your mother had made you matching ones. That's so sweet.

Your skin looked so beautifully soft- just like it should have the first time he saw it, spare for the scars on your calf and your arm, it was just what he imagined.

You kick your shoes off, and the wood of the dock is hot against your bare feet as you run down to the end, diving head-first off to the side to avoid jumping right onto any of your friends.

It seemed to Coryo that you weren't afraid anymore as you briefly looked back at him while you were running. The excited scream you let out when you lept from the dock made his heart flutter. This is exactly what he had wanted, from the very beginning.

When Coryo jumps in behind you, you can hear his shout and feel the water shift around you as his body breaks the surface. You turn under the water, its clarity allowing you to see where everyone is. You loved this. The memories of this lake kept you safe, almost. You can hear muffled laughter above the water, deciding to take your time before coming up for air. You didn't need it just yet.

You swim away from everyone deep under the surface, scanning the lake floor for anything interesting. Really, it was just sticks and rocks and mud, but one day you may find something else exciting, but not today.

"Where is she going?" Coryo comments, watching your body as you kick away deeper under the water.

"Wherever she wants." Lennox answers plainly, treading water as he stares at him.

"She's looking for secrets." Maude Ivory giggles, splashing him in the face. At least she gave him somewhat of an answer.

He quickly lifts an arm to block the wave, but it fails miserably. "What kind of secrets will she find at the bottom of the lake?" He coughs out, wiping the water from his eyes.

"Once we found a watch." Lucy Gray shrugs, looking from him to you. "Which is odd because we didn't know anyone else knew about this place. The secrets are what happens when we aren't here."

You hardly noticed the lack of oxygen until it almost felt too late, quickly swimming up and pushing your hair out of your face so you don't inhale it by mistake.

"Anything good today?" Lucy Gray shouts over to you as soon as she's noticed you've come up.

"There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so!" You pant, pushing yourself through the water back toward her.

"So, that's a no?" Sejanus asks and you laugh, shaking your head.

"Just rocks and sticks." You explain, joining them again and bumping shoulders with Lucy Gray. "Some weeds, if that's your fancy."

"Oh, yes, that's right up my alley." Sejanus chuckles, cupping his hands to block out the glare of the sun as he looks down into the water anyway.

"I've never been to a lake before," Coryo says, breathing heavily as the waves from the kids splashing keep coming up too close to his face.

"What? Really?" Lucy Gray and Sejanus ask in unison, and you smile at him.

He nods, eyes locking with yours. You feel the need to say something. "Is it everything you dreamt of?" You ask.

"Just about." He grins.

"Oh? What's missing?" You giggle.

Oh, only being able to hold you without retraumatizing you.

"It's not that anything is missing," He comes up with as an excuse. "There's just more birds than I expected."

"Oh, yeah. They like it out here." You hum, looking up at the trees while Lucy Gray whistles out a tune for them to mimic. You smile. "Why, you don't like birds either?"

"Never been the biggest fan, no." He chuckles.

The birds echo her song back to you repeatedly. Coryo turns around to watch as if there was anything to see besides these black birds flitting around the trees and above the cabin. "What kind of birds are they?" He asks. "I've never seen that before."

"We call 'em Mockingjays." Lucy Gray tells him.

"'Cause they'll mock ya if you mess up the song!" Clerk Carmine jumps in, climbing onto Lucy Gray's back under the water.

"Oh, I wouldn't know." Your friend teases him, gripping tight onto the boy's legs as he starts to shout. He knows what's about to happen, and clearly you do too as Coryo watches you and your brother quickly swim out of their reach and closer to him.

You laugh, watching as Lucy Gray takes a big dramatic breath in and sinks under the surface of the water, pulling CC down with her as he screams and splashes.

The sun dried you quickly after you decided you had had enough of the water, climbing back out onto the dock and deciding to just lay your blanket there to dry off on while you took the book and snacks from your bag.

Coryo had been sitting with Lucy Gray and Sejanus, but they were just talking to each other more than him. Not that he could have paid much attention. He was just watching you.

"Can I go talk to her?" He asks with little regard for the conversation that he was interrupting.

They both look over at him. "I mean, you could try. Would that be okay?" Sejanus answers, looking to Lucy Gray for confirmation.

"No. Let her have her peace and quiet." Lennox interrupts as he walks back up in front of them, pulling his shirt back onto his now fully dried skin.

Lucy Gray sighs."Just... Don't be stupid." She advises Coryo, nodding him on. "Len, we'll be right here."

Your brother shakes his head slightly, glaring between the three of them with nothing short of adamant disapproval.

Coryo nods slightly, taking the preferable answer by getting up and heading back down onto the dock.

Lennox looks back over his shoulder to where he just was with Maude Ivory looking for katniss, before taking Coryo's spot on the deck.

"Did she not tell you anything about him?" Lennox mumbles to Lucy Gray, eyes locked on his sister and her 'friend' as he stands over her. "No, she must have- because you were at The Hob last week. You saw it."

"I saw a girl with a lot of unresolved trauma have an episode." Lucy Gray explains, watching Lennox take Coryo's spot next to her. "He made a mistake, but he wouldn't ever hurt her."

Your brother opens his mouth to argue, but Sejanus interrupts. "I know it isn't my place, but Lucy Gray is right. He would sooner die than hurt her."

"Okay, well, explain how he's sitting right next to her when he's already hurt her so bad she may never recover!" Lennox whispers, gesturing to the dock as if they couldn't already see you there.

"I'm not defending anything he's done. That's not what I meant." Sejanus explains. "I just mean he would never do it on purpose."

"Accidents are clearly bad enough."

"Len, he just wants to make amends now." Lucy Gray insists. "And she wants that. I know she does, she's really trying."

"Listen, if it helps..." Sejanus starts, looking back out at you and Coryo on the dock. He can tell how nervous his friend is, watching you intently as he picks at the wood finish beneath him and listening to you talk. "He really loves her. I know it's not my place to tell you that, but it was bad when she was gone. He hardly spoke a word to anyone, he wouldn't put her book down- it was really hard on him. We weren't sure if she had been executed for cheating, and it was killing him to be left in the dark."

"That's not love, that's guilt." Lennox mutters, watching you closely.

"What's the difference between love and guilt?" Lucy Gray asks him rhetorically. "He wouldn't feel guilty if he didn't care."

"The difference is he wouldn't have come here and made the same mistake again."

Lucy Gray bites into her lip, slightly shaking her head. That was an honestly good point.

"I was in the arena, too. I saw what he did." Sejanus says after a moment. "He saved my life, it was my fault. It was shocking... you know, the overkill, but I can't say for certain I wouldn't have done the same thing. We were both pumped so full of adrenaline that I truly believe that's what it was." He explains. "I mean, I was behind him, so I don't know what she saw- but it looked like adrenaline to me."

"How do you think she felt?" Lennox asks, eyes wide. "She was in there for three days! You and him were there for what, ten minutes?"

"Wait..." Lucy Gray backpedals, looking at Sejanus. "Sejanus, what do you mean you thought he was executed for cheating? Like, in the games?"

Sejanus swallows, nodding. He looks over at you but quickly looks away. "Yeah, uh... Coryo told me that she used rat poison to kill two of the others. And he did something to keep the snakes from biting her, but I don't think he was caught for that."

Your brother and best friend look at each other like they'd just seen a ghost before their eyes simultaneously track to you. You were laughing.

"She didn't... She didn't tell me that." Lucy Gray says quietly. "Did you know, Len?"

"No."

"That doesn't surprise me." Sejanus shrugs and they both look at him, shocked and confused. "Well, she doesn't know either. I don't think, definitely not about the snakes, but she told the Dean it was salt. That I gave her." He laughs slightly at the end, but they don't find it funny. "By the time she left, she was fully delusional about it. She knew what it was, Coryo gave it to her to protect herself because he needed her to win. She was really upset by the insinuation that it, in fact, was not salt."

Lucy Gray and Lennox look at each other again, unsure what to say. It must have been worse than they thought. Regardless, they knew it must be eating you alive.

"Can I join you?" You hear Coryo's voice above you after about ten minutes of listening to the mockingjays sing Lucy Gray's song back to her as she sat on the porch of the cabin. The sun was so warm on your skin that you could have fallen asleep here if you weren't reading your book.

You squint against the sun as you look up at him. "Yes, you may." You agree, and you feel him sitting down next to you as the wood creaks below him.

You find yourself holding your breath, even as you return to your book to try and remain relaxed.

He's not going to hurt you.

"What are you reading?" He asks after a moment, thinking your arms must be asleep for using them to hold the book and support your weight for so long.

"It's called 'Much Ado About Nothing'." You answer. "Another Shakespeare piece."

"Do you like it?" He asks, lifting his leg to rest his elbow on his knee while you sit up, crossing your legs and letting the book fall into your lap.

"I do." You smile down at the page. It is much more lighthearted than Romeo and Juliet, as much as you would have loved to come home and drown yourself in your favourite book- the boy next to you unintentionally made it impossible. God, you were so embarrassed by the letter you wrote to him. Your cheeks flush just think about it. All you did by surviving was make everything weird.

"Another tragedy?" He inquires, attempting to read some of the words on the page as it's opened on your lap.

"No." You chuckle, shaking your head. "It's a romantic comedy, actually."

"Oh, wow. You changed it up?" He asks, only somewhat shocked. It would only make sense that you couldn't handle much more tragedy since you've been home.

"I did." You smile. "It's quite funny."

"Will you read me your favourite part?" He suggests, watching your eyes as they light up with excitement from the request.

"Okay, so..." You quickly flip back through the pages and into the first act, scanning for the lines you're looking for. "Okay. Here." You pretend to clear your throat.

"In our last conflict four of his five wits went halting off, and now is the whole man governed with one: so that if he have wit enough to keep himself warm, let him bear it for a difference between himself and his horse; for it is all the wealth that he hath left, to be known a reasonable creature." You recite, dragging your finger along the page so he can track what you are reading. You remembered it, but it might have been easier for him to follow that way.

Coryo watched you the whole time, and by the end, you were a giggling mess. You thought it was absolutely hilarious, and he smiles at that.

"What does that mean?" He chuckles.

"So," You laugh, a hand pressed to your chest. "Basically, she's talking about how she was arguing with Benedick and won. The punchline is that she let him keep one of his wits, because if she didn't no one would be able to tell him from his horse."

Coryo laughs at that, shaking his head. "That is good." He agrees.

"Isn't it?" You smile. "It's a welcome change of pace."

"Yeah, Romeo and Juliet was... yikes." He says, ticking his jaw and peeling up some of the wood from the dock between you.

"You read it?" You ask quietly, eyes widening as you look over at him. It shouldn't shock you, he told you he would, and that he even looked forward to it. "What did you think?"

"Of course I did," Coryo nods. "I really enjoyed it."

"It doesn't seem like it..." You laugh nervously, looking down as you flip back to the page you were on before closing the book.

"No, truly. I did." He insists. "Just... for lack of a better term, it was tragic."

"Yes, well..." You chuckle, shrugging slightly and tucking your book back into the bag next to you.

"It was heartbreaking!" He laughs suddenly. "And that's your favourite?" He looks at you then, head tilted as he slightly shakes his head.

"Okay, so," You laugh, rolling your eyes. You were used to defending this to others who have tried reading it. "That's what makes it so beautiful. It's so touching, they died for each other thinking they were in love, but they also hardly knew each other. It forces you to wonder what could have been, and I like that."

"Okay, well, you're right." Coryo agrees. "I didn't like the ending, but that's the point, I suppose. The rest was good, it reminded me a lot of you."

"I think I forced a bias onto you. My apologies."

"You didn't force anything on me." He smiles, shaking his head. "All I knew is that you loved it, and that made it so much better."

Your cheeks flush as you busy yourself by pulling out the bag of cherries. "Would you like some?" You offer the bag to him and he reaches in, taking just a couple out and popping one into his mouth.

"I finished it all before you left." Coryo tells you, and you hold him out another empty paper bag to spit the pits into.

"That good?" You smile and he nods.

"Can I..." Coryo starts, and you tilt your head at him. He doesn't want to ruin your day by bringing this up. Everything on your face shows hope, even excitement for what he is going to say. "If you can't hear this stop me, but the book made great company in the mentor hall."

For a moment, he saw nervousness flicker behind your eyes, but still, you nodded. You wanted to hear anything he had to say- you just hoped you could stomach it.

"Oh, that's fine. I'm... I'm glad." You try and smile, distracting yourself by popping a cherry into your mouth.

"I was alone most of the time. I didn't go home." He tells you, trying to say what he wanted but still be as vague as possible.

"It must have been so horribly boring." You laugh nervously, swallowing the cherry pit as you reach for another of the small red fruits, picking the stem from it and flicking it into the lake.

"I wish it was." He replies, watching you closely to see if and when he's crossed a line. You nod in understanding, and he takes a nervous breath in. "I... The alternative was that I got sent home like some of my classmates. I wasn't going to leave until I had to."

'Until I had to.'

So he was forced to go in for Sejanus. Why on earth would they not send peacekeepers? Why another child?

"I... I appreciate that." You stammer out, looking down at your lap, noticing for the first time that your hands were trembling. "That must have been uncomfortable. I apologize."

Coryo furrows his brow at you. "No, I'm sorry. Why would you apologize to me?" He asks. "I'm sorry I couldn't do more for you. That I couldn't get you out."

"You did more than you had to." You say, voice quiet with your honesty.

"No." He shakes his head. "I had to do everything I did. I couldn't let you die."

"You saved my life, and... and-" It happens very suddenly when a tear falls down your cheek; you didn't even notice you were starting to panic.

"No, wait, I'm sorry, hey, don't cry..." Coryo says quickly. He wants to help, to do something, but he feels helpless. Again. He feels sick with the knowledge that he always says the wrong thing.

"I'm sorry... I'm sorry..." You mumble, trying to wipe your eyes but you're finding it hard to speak.

"Don't be, please don't be sorry." He pleads with you, shifting so he's kneeling next to you, placing a hand on your back.

You almost jump away, head flying to look at him. He's just rubbing your back. He's only trying to help.

Instinctively, your eyes search for his. They aren't hard to find, and all you can see as you search them is worry. Nothing malicious. "I... Do you want me to get Lucy Gray? Or your brother?" He offers, grabbing your shaking hands in his free one. "Just take deep breaths."

You nod, scared to look away for even a second. So he has to.

Coryo turns back, swallowing his pride. "Lennox! Lucy Gray!" He shouts, drawing their attention quickly.

He accepted the berating he was about to get from your brother before it even came.

"What did you do?" Lennox asks him, forcing himself between the two of you.

"We were just talking and I think I said something- I don't know, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to..." Coryo answers honestly, standing up and taking a step back.

You're watching him, intently, despite Lucy Gray taking over holding you and talking to you in hushed tones, trying to ease your mind.

"I'm okay." You tell her, nodding. You don't look at her, only watching him. Watching his eyes- but nothing changes. Baby blue. Worry. More worry.

taglist: @soulessjourney , @that-veela-girl , @dreamyysouls, @rockstarbfs , @maysileeewrites , @baybieruth , @kitscutie , @fratboyharrysgf0201 , @totallynotkaibiased , @stelleduarte , @secretsicanthideanymore , @bejeweledreverie , @drewsandsebastianswife , @niicole-87 , @queenofshinigamis , @innercreationflower , @nallasstuff , @iovemoonyy , @thatmarvelchick19 , @wearemadeofstardust0 , @regulusblackcore , @puredreamagination , @fantasticchaosthing , @becauseseaotters , @secretsicanthideanymore

okay suddenly tumblr isn't letting me tag more people than this so i just made some cuts unfortunately :') i just left the max amount of people i could whose users i recognized and see in my notifs all the time :) if you're not on here and you should be i'm so sorry!

also this taglist is closed now!! if you’d like to get a notification when i update, turn on my post notifications!! i promise i won’t spam y'all :,)

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myosotisa · 5 months

Text

Chasm - e.m.

Eddie Munson x fem!Reader

‖ summary: You're a researcher working at one of the fault lines throughout Hawkins, studying the closed and dormant gates to an alternate dimension. While you're alone on site, one of the gates wakes up again.

‖ tags: horror. i cannot stress this enough. this is unsettling and creepy and angsty with slight sexual tension. in line with the content in the show. post season 4, canon compliant. emetophobia warning. dubcon kissing. forced consumption (writing it made me gag just warning you. but im also kind of a baby so). no y/n, she/her pronouns used. flayed!eddie infects you. open ended ending. also steve is there sometimes. there's a ton of background lore that is only vaguely explained lol

‖ word count: 8.3k ‖ read on AO3 ‖ the song ‖

None of the rifts have shown any activity in over a year. Months and months of dead readings and no signals. Just waiting.

So what's a girl supposed to do when your EMF meter spikes alone on site? Sit around and wait for a crew to suit up and march their way over to the fault you were at? No fucking way. No chance.

You report in about the sudden spike in gamma radiation and tell them you're going to find the source. The project lead tells you to stay put and wait for assistance, as expected.

Your radiation gear was already halfway on. Oops, sorry boss, didn't hear you.

Handheld voltage meter in one hand, audio recorder in the other, and a pocket full of glow sticks, you push out past the plastic tarps and into the humid night air of Indiana summer.

The readings bring you west, toward the condemned trailer park and the "start" of your fault line. You crack a glow stick and drop it every few feet, marking your path. When the reading jumps up, you make a '+' sign with two at the spot before continuing forward. It was hard to say without exact measurements, but it seemed to be increasing at equal intervals. Like frozen waves on the surface of water.

"I'm approaching the Forest Hills sign," you say into the receiver, your own voice the only sound in the night air. "Current readings are…" You bring the meter up, using the light hanging from your neck to read the display. "Approaching 70 mv/m of high frequency radiation, roughly 31016 Hz. The next… 'Layer', for lack of a better term, will most likely breach Safe EMF levels, not considering the potential protection of the suit."

Lowering the meter again when it gives a beep of warning, you tuck it under your arm and crack another glow stick, leaving a '+' at the boundary to the trailer park. "I'll probably need treatment when I get back to base – as long as I grab a reading from the source and get out quickly, there won't be lasting damage. You hear that, Dr. Pierce?" You say through an over-confident huff, readjusting your arms to keep moving forward. "I'm well aware of the risks and take responsibility for my own actions."

The park itself looks like a bad dream at night – trailers abandoned hastily with doors still hung open and belongings scattered along the ground. Between the sudden fault opening and the bureau rushing in, the existing residents had been given very little time and grace to move into temporary housing across town. And it looked every bit like an entire community of people had just up and disappeared.

The suit you were in didn’t exactly help coordination, so you moved slowly and carefully over and around discarded objects along the dirt. Clothing, kitchen utensils, a quilt, a stack of newspapers, a child's toy. All left untouched for over a year.

Clearing the corner of one of the empty trailers, you catch sight of something strange.

“The fault itself has looked normal up to this point, no activity. But I can see the source now. It’s… It appears to be glowing red, fading in and out in a constant cycle.” Approaching even slower than before, you watch intently as the glow grows and then retreats again. Like waves on the shore.

The meter gives another shrill alarm – making you jump nearly out of your skin as you swat at it with the recorder. “Jesus Christ!” It quiets with a sinking pitch in your hand.

Before checking the reading, you quickly make another ‘+’ with glow sticks, digging them into the dirt a bit in an attempt to keep them from moving. Still down on one knee, you bring the meter up to your flashlight again.

“The meter is now reading 110 mv/m, same frequency. I’m roughly… 12 feet out from the source now. There’s a, uh, humming sound. Not sure if the recording is picking it up. And feeling pressure on my eardrums,” you explain into the device, eyes locked on the glow ahead. “I’ll continue to approach – see if I can get a closer reading. If it jumps above 150, I’ll fall back.”

Pushing to your feet again with a huff, you readjust your full load and press forward slowly. The closer you get to the source, you can see that the fault rapidly grows in size. The space between the edges looks large enough to fit a car as it rounds out at the end – a red pond in the ground.

“I can see the source clearer now. The glow is coming from within – there’s a…" You take a few steps closer, squinting to get a better look. "It appears to be an opaque membrane covering the space between. The glow is coming from behind it. Still cycling at an even rate, no change.”

The meter in your hand gives its shrillest warning yet, scaring you badly enough that it goes flying out of your hand; it hits the ground and flips closer to the edge. “Shit, fuck!”

You shuffle forward and drop down onto your shaky knees, grabbing for the meter as it continues to let out that grating alarm into the night air. Smacking it once more, the sound cuts off abruptly, giving you a chance to breathe.

Bringing it up to your flashlight, your eyes go wide as you lift the recorder again with your other trembling hand. “I’m nearly at the edge now, only a foot or so away – EMF reading 187 mv/m. Rapid increase from the last point.”

Movement in your peripheral vision catches your attention, your head snapping toward it.

“There’s… What the fuck?" You pause, tempted to rub your eyes to make sure you're really seeing what you're seeing.

"There’s movement below the membrane. It… It’s just a shadow, I can’t tell what it is, but the movement is rapid and the… The humming is getting louder.” Your heart is pounding now, a cold sweat breaking out across your skin beneath the suit.

“Going to retreat back to base,” you say, mostly attempting to reassure yourself as you slowly back away from the edge. “Final reading was 189 mv/m at 31016 Hz.”

There’s a crackle of static right before a thumb presses the pause button roughly, silencing the recorder in the center of the table.

“Is that all?” General Richard Highland asks, sounding impatient as he leans back in his conference chair. “That doesn’t tell us anything about what happened to her.”

“No, sir, there’s more.” Private Steve Harrington insists, inclining his head toward the dirty recorder he had delivered. He’s standing by the edge of the table at attention, hands clasped in front of him. “The recording keeps going.”

Dr. Pierce leans forward from his seat, giving the General a stiff look as he presses the play button again.

There’s a few more moments of static before the woman’s voice fades back in, layered beneath the hum of attempted interference.

“I’m definitely gonna need that rad treatment, Dr. Pierce. My badge is that warning color, even beneath the suit,” she continues with a shaky laugh, the sound of plastic shuffling behind it. “Hopefully I don’t lose my hair or something, but that’s… What?”

The table of scientists and military personnel sits in tense silence as her voice cuts out again. Half of them are on the edge of their seats, the others showing off a measured calm or disinterest. The general looks particularly annoyed and impatient, while Dr. Pierce looks almost like he wants to throw up.

“There’s… Something’s happening – I don’t–”

An abrasive crackle echoes out into the room, loud enough to send nearly everyone into a wince, before the recording cuts back in with the sound of screaming.

“WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT THING?! SHIT – I’ve gotta get–" A burst of interference sounds, followed by a metallic grating, like a ship groaning beneath the weight of the ocean.

Her panicked voice comes through, sounding further away than before. "FUCK! It – It’s got my ankle. Let go, you fucking piece of –! SHI–”

The recording cuts out to a buzzing hum.

No one moves for a few moments. Not until Private Harrington steps up to silence the recorder. “We found this recording, a lab issue EMF meter, and a broken flashlight at the edge of the fault." He explains, producing the other two items from the pack resting at his feet. "It was dormant when we got there – solid again.”

“So it just…” One of the other scientists starts, looking at Dr. Pierce uneasily.

“Dragged her through and went back to sleep.” Dr. Pierce confirms solemnly, his gaze locked on the dirty recorder.

“It’s never done this before?” A 2nd scientist, new to the project, asks. The others shake their heads. “So what do we do?”

All eyes turn to Dr. Pierce, who looks like he’s seen a ghost.

“We wait for it to wake up again.”

Wake up.

Come on, little lamb.

Wake up now.

Looks so peaceful.

But you’ve got to wake up.

…

WAKE UP.

There’s something wet on your face.

Feeling is slowly returning to your body, your eyes closed and too heavy to open. But there’s something dripping on your cheek – droplets running down toward your mouth. Sticking to your dry lips for a moment or two before falling off. You’re on the ground on your stomach, your cheek squished against something that feels like mud.

Your brain has yet to kick on fully as it tries to regain consciousness through a pounding ache, resonating with the throb of your left leg. It feels like you’re still wearing the rad suit, but the head piece is gone and it might be ripped in places – mud seeping in to touch your skin.

It’s almost like you’re sinking.

Eyelids fluttering open and you’re faced with a desaturated swamp. Like someone came through and sucked half the color out of it.

Lifting one arm is difficult, suctioned into the mud you’re laying in. Once you’ve freed it enough, you’re able to push off the sticky, wet sludge beneath you enough to roll over onto your back.

“Sucks, doesn’t it?”

You sit up with a start, your abdomen screaming in protest as your brain swims. Blinking through the blur in your eyes, you struggle to see anything at all in the dark – only momentarily granted sight by the flashes of red lightning overhead.

“Who’s there?” You call out into the dark, an attempt to sound brave, but your voice trembles as your eyes rapidly flit back and forth.

“Over here.”

The lightning flashes once more as you whip your head toward the voice – showing the silhouette of a man standing a few feet away. From what little you see, he’s tall and slender, head tilted to the side like he’s curious. There’s no chance you can see his face or anything else about him.

Until he’s in your face, crouched down right beside you – crossing the space and appearing in the span of a blink. It gives you a start, attempting to back up but getting caught up in the mud still suctioned to your lower half.

Your fear seems to bring a small smile to his face, plump lips tilting up at the corner. He looks so familiar… Long curly hair draped wetly over his shoulders, the sparse bangs across his forehead, and the soft turn of his nose. Curiosity gets the better of you as you lean in again slightly, squinting your eyes a bit more in the dark to see him better.

“I know you…” You insist softly, causing his eyebrows to raise slightly in surprise. “How do I know you?”

“No clue, because I’ve never met you in my life.” He replies, lips parting in a grin. “And I’m good with faces – ‘specially pretty ones.”

His response catches you off guard as your brain continues reeling and struggling to intake information, which is normally your forte. There’s a million questions on the tip of your tongue and you have no idea where to start.

“You’ll probably need to lose the suit if you want to get out of that shit,” he continues when you don’t respond, motioning to your stationary legs with a wave of his hand. And he’s probably right, with the way the mud beneath you is stuck tight to the shiny plastic. Your best hope is to try to use the suit as a stepping off point to get to stable ground.

“Where should I step once I pull out?” You ask, hoping he’ll understand your goal.

A blink and he’s gone again – another flash of red light placing his silhouette off to your left. “Think you can make it to here?” He responds, voice raised slightly and sounding like he’s teasing you or challenging you. It makes your competitive side flare up on instinct – a frustrated huff leaving your nose as you plan your escape.

Opening the front of the suit, you slip both arms out and let the upper half fall flat behind you. Pulling out both of your legs next, your butt sinks deeper into the ground, nearly sending you off balance as you quickly shift your weight forward onto your knees, using the suit as a stepping stone. It starts to sink, mud coming up over the edge and inching toward your knees, so you have to move fast.

Pushing to your feet makes it sink faster, wet sludge touching the side of your ankle just as you push off in a jump toward where the man was standing.

You land on the ankle that had been grasped by the tentacle, not realizing the throbbing meant it’d been twisted. It makes you cry out in pain and fall forward, directly into the man’s chest.

“Woah there!” He says in surprise, grasping onto your elbows to keep you sort of upright. Between the aching pain and the tears pressing at your eyes, you just barely manage to notice how cold and clammy he is – especially where his hands grip your bare biceps.

Rocketing back, you press your weight onto your good leg and put some distance between the two of you again, your dirty arms crossing over your tank top and smearing it with mud. “Sorry, my, uh, ankle…” You offer awkwardly, still not even sure who you’re talking to.

“Don’t worry about it, angel. You good?”

He actually sounds like he cares. Like he’s concerned for you. Who is he?

“I’ll be fine,” you insist stubbornly, swallowing down the lump of tears in your throat. Free from your precarious situation, at least partially, you struggle to figure out what to address first. “How are you doing that? Like… Teleporting? Or are you just moving really fast?”

He chuckles softly, shaking his head. “What–,” he disappears in a blink and then you feel a burst of air on the back of your neck, making your hair stand on end, “this?”

You lurch forward before turning around to level him a glare. “Yes, that – don’t do that.”

His hands tuck into the front pockets of the leather jacket he’s wearing as he shrugs, looking quite pleased with himself. “Sorry, angel, didn’t mean to spook you.”

Then silence falls, both of you eyeing each other – you suspiciously and him curiously. The extended pause makes you think you aren’t going to be told how anytime soon.

A breeze kicks up, rustling the branches of the trees in the surrounding swampland and sending a shiver down your spine. Suit lost, you’re down to a tank top, jeans, and a pair of no slip shoes (which were required for people working in the field for some reason). You were dressed for the humid interior of the field site tent in summer and it appears that you have landed yourself in a place where that is not enough.

Taking advantage of the silence, you try to remember everything you can about your studies into the ‘gates’ from when they were open. Very little was known beside second hand accounts and old data – some of which may not even be accurate anymore given the nature of the fault lines. If there was anywhere to start, it would be trying to find the gate you’d been dragged through.

With any luck, you could go right back to your dimension.

But that didn’t account for him. The pale, wet, unsettling-yet-somehow-charming guy that was still staring right at you.

“How long have you been here? Do you know?” You question cautiously, not wanting to upset him in any way.

“That depends, what year is it?”

Your heart drops into your stomach, completely at odds with the continued grin on his face. It looks almost manic now – like every time he sets you off balance brings him great joy. Deciding you’d actually rather not know how long he’s been in here, you move on.

“Have you been alone this whole time? Or are there other people here?”

His grin spreads, like he’s in on a joke you’re not aware of. “I haven’t been alone, no.”

This piques your curiosity again, adjusting your weight on your good leg. “Do you have a community here? How many of you are there?”

“Why don’t you see for yourself?” He suggests, taking a step or two away from you, his hands still tucked into his pockets.

The idea is tempting, if only to learn more about what is going on here, but there’s something nagging at the back of your mind. Something you should be remembering. Something you’re missing. Plus, for all you know, this man does not have your best interests at heart.

“I should probably try to find the gate that brought me here,” you say, slightly regretfully. “See if I can cross back over.”

“Oh, right,” he responds, tapping his forehead with his palm like it should’ve been obvious. “Yeah, I can show you the way.”

This surprises you again, slight concern causing you to stand up straighter. “You can?”

“Sure thing, the closest one isn’t far,” he motions behind him with a tilt of his chin, taking another step back. “Come on.”

So you follow the strange man into the dark, limping after him on your twisted ankle. The mud starts to dry on your skin, hair, and clothing – crusting over and hardening in places. You pick at pieces as you walk, letting the chunks and flakes fall to the ground behind you. From what little you can see, there are vines everywhere along the ground, weaving between tree trunks and layering over each other in place. The man seems to step over them – and you can’t tell if it’s on purpose or a coincidence – but you make a habit of not touching the vines just in case.

It’s unsettlingly quiet here. Every once in a while you’ll hear what sounds like an animal – a howl, a chittering, the thump of feet on the earth. But they are few and far between, leaving mostly just the rush of wind through the trees and a sort of muffled silence, pressure on your ears.

Your paranoia kicks up as the quiet continues, suspiciously eyeing the back of your escort as he leads you forward. For all you knew, he wasn’t leading you anywhere near the gate. You have no reason to trust him beyond the fact that he helped you get out of the sludge you woke up in. He was in this dimension after all, clearly familiar with it. That had to be a red flag if anything, given what little you actually knew about it.

So much was classified beyond your reach – the bureau was very specific with what you were allowed to read and know and what you weren’t. Given the dormant nature of the fault lines, it hadn’t been necessary for you to learn too much about the dimension on the other side. Most of what you studied and knew was about the gates themselves.

Even with the bureau being as paranoid and obsessive as it was – a lowly field researcher getting dragged to the other side and needing to survive hadn’t seemed to be on their radar.

The pessimistic part of you not-so-helpfully supplies that was probably just because they weren't very interested in your survival at all. They’d probably prefer it if you died here. If anything, your exposure to the other side made you more of a liability.

Maybe one they could experiment on, if you got lucky and survived.

This train of thinking isn’t helping anything. You could worry about what your life would become if you made it out.

Walking up to the lifeless and solid gate turns that into a very tentative if.

“Looks like the door’s shut tight,” Eddie offers vaguely, rocking back and forth on his heels as you circle the hole in the ground, like seeing a new angle will change something about it.

The opening looks largely the same as the other side, in the center of the abandoned trailer park with the forest surrounding. Your arms are covered in goosebumps as the breeze hits harder in the open field, no longer buffered by trees on all sides. On the bright side, it is slightly better lit here and you can see your companion a bit clearer now.

“Do you know how these things work? Like how and why it opens and shuts?” You ask desperately, looking at him from the other side of the crevice.

The corner of his mouth tilts up minutely, his shoulders shrugging. “Yes and no.”

The scowl returns to your face, frustration mounting as another shiver of cold racks your body. “Are you intentionally being unhelpful? Or are you just an idiot?”

His lips part in a surprised ‘o’, his eyebrows raising like he’s impressed. “That hurts, angel. I’m no idiot, and I think I’ve been plenty helpful. After all… I could’ve just left you to drown out there. Or maybe led you into a trap. Or left you for the dogs.” He taunts, returning to a toothy grin. The question of if he has your well being in mind gets more and more clear with a resounding no.

A fearful jolt runs down your spine as you stare him down, trying not to let your fear show. Grappling tightly to your anger, you taunt back, “Oh yeah? Then why didn’t you?”

A blink and he’s gone.

Your entire body goes on alert, tensing for attack as your heart starts to pound against your ribs. Eyes searching the immediate area in front of you come up empty. He’s either behind you or far enough you can’t see him in the low light. You never got an answer as to whether he’s moving quickly or teleporting or exactly how far he can get in the time you blinked.

He’s either long gone or… Trying to surprise you.

As soon as you have the thought, the hair on the back of your neck stands up – like some kind of unconscious sense of danger.

You turn in a quick 180 and he’s right there. Only a foot away from you with a sadistic sort of smile on his face. Your breath catches in your chest as it feels like a fist grabs tightly to your heart, suddenly much more terrified of the man in front of you.

That appears to be the way he prefers it.

“I think we can help each other.”

You blink at him, muscles pulled taut and ready to bolt as you try to figure out what the fuck he’s doing and what the fuck he wants. “What?” You question, your voice coming out a bit breathy and scared.

“I said, I think we can help each other,” he repeats calmly. “You help me, and I can help you get back home.”

“Why– What– H–how could I possibly help you?” You sputter, trying not to sound as terrified and confused as you feel.

His grin turns cheeky again, slightly less unsettling than it was a moment ago. “It won’t take much, angel, scout’s honor.” He says as he lays a hand over his chest. “You help me, then you’re free to crawl right back over to the other side and continue your life.”

Disbelief and uncertainty nags at you as you fidget in your spot, wanting desperately to put some more distance between the two of you but nervous to offend him. “So you can open the gate? You just want something in return?”

He shakes his head emphatically, appearing to be genuine in his denial. “I can’t but I know who can. They opened it before you were brought over.”

“And they would open it again? Just because you asked?” You question suspiciously, studying his facial expression for a sign that he’s pulling your leg again.

“Let’s just say that me and them have similar goals and leave it at that.”

There are 100 more questions on the tip of your tongue, but with the potential of getting back to your own dimension on the table, you’re reluctant to press too hard. He seems to recognize the battle you’re fighting with yourself as he laughs to himself. “You know what they say about curiosity, angel.”

An annoyed exhale punches out of your nose. “And I assume in this case that I’m the cat.”

“Bingo!” He says happily, tapping the end of his nose with his index finger. “So what do you say?”

There is so much you want to say. So many questions you want to ask. So much more info you need. But beggars can’t be choosers, you suppose.

“What would I need to do?”

His smile goes sharp again. “So glad you asked. I’d just need a kiss.”

A beat of silence. Then your expression drops in disbelief and disappointment. “Please tell me you’re joking.”

“Dead serious,” he insists, laying his hand on his chest again as he regards you intently. “And it’s gotta be real – gotta kiss me like you mean it. None of those little pecks you give on the cheek.”

A strange swirl of intrigue and revulsion mixes together in your gut as you continue waiting for the punchline. The ‘just kidding, your face was priceless’. But it doesn’t come.

“Is this some kind of sick joke? Been so lonely out here that you have to twist the arm of a desperate girl just to get some–”

“Hey.” He interrupts, his tone intense and cold. It shuts you up immediately, though you can’t say why. “Don’t be mean, angel. This isn’t just me trying to take advantage of you. It has a real purpose.”

The dubious look you give him makes him crack another small smile. “Cross my heart and hope to die, I’m telling you the truth.”

“And am I allowed to know what this purpose is?”

He shakes his head again, displacing the curls draped over his shoulders that still appear to have not dried at all. “I’ll tell you when it’s done, how about that?” He offers, using your curiosity against you to try to sweeten the deal.

Really, it’s a no brainer. Sure, he’s a strange person that lives in an alternate dimension that has some strange abilities. Sure, you know next to nothing about him despite that itch in the back of your head telling you that you know him somehow. And sure, this could be a huge mistake. But having to kiss this admittedly-attractive dude just to get out of this nightmare dimension and get back home? The choice is simple.

Which only makes you more certain there’s a catch you aren’t seeing.

“Fine. If you swear I’ll be able to go home, then I’ll do it.”

His expression brightens excitedly, a sort of childlike joy appearing on his face. It’s different from any of the expressions you’ve seen on him so far – like genuine surprise. “You will?”

“Yeah, sure.” You reply, trying to brush it off as nothing. “Not like I have a lot of other options here.”

His excitement fades slightly, though he still looks pleased with the outcome. “Glad you made the right decision.”

An unsettling silence falls as the two of you study each other once more, now much closer than the last time. Fear and anticipation builds steadily as you find yourself glancing down at his lips – realizing you’re about to know what they feel like on your own.

“Do we, uh,” you pause to clear your throat as you awkwardly break the silence. “Do we do it now? Or… What?”

He takes a step closer, entering your personal space. His voice is lower, stickier, and richer when he responds. “Do you wanna do it now, angel?”

You suddenly feel like a fly stuck in a honey trap – eyes widening as you struggle between wanting to further close the distance and to run away from him. “Now’s as good a time as any, I suppose?” Though you meant it to be nonchalant, it comes out as a nervous question.

The uncertainty in your voice only seems to make the man crack another amused smile. “I suppose so,” he replies softly, gently teasing you as he gets even just a little bit closer. You can feel your heart pounding in your neck, constantly flipping back and forth between fear, interest, nerves, and embarrassment. Looking at you through slightly lowered eyelids, he leans in toward you. Close enough you can feel the exhale of his breath on your face.

“Kiss me like you mean it, angel.” He reminds you quietly, the tip of his nose nudging against yours as your eyelids flutter closed instinctively. “Don’t forget.”

Then his lips are pressing to yours. You make a small noise of surprise, both in that you weren’t sure if he was actually going to do it and because he’s so cold. But his lips are plush and soft as he places your lower lip between his own. As promised, you kiss him back, trying not to think about how strange it feels that he’s cold and the situation you’re in – focusing on the gentle pressure of him as he steps even closer and brings his hand up to cradle your jaw.

It’s gentle and sweet as you find yourself starting to forget the reality of it all. Your hands find the edges of his leather jacket, tugging him closer as he hums happily. His other hand finds your waist – cold through the thin fabric of your tank top.

Teeth nip lightly at your lower lip and you make another small noise of surprise, a flash of heat through your chest at the pleasant feeling. It distracts you further – not even questioning the adventurous flick of his tongue against your mouth. You part your lips on instinct; his hand flexing happily against your jaw as he tests the waters to run his tongue along yours.

You return the gesture, encouraging the touch as you breathe heavily through your nose. You’re running low on air and will need to part to breathe soon. You’re surprised to find that you aren’t really sure that you want to stop to do so.

He seems to recognize the impending need too; his lips pressing against yours more insistently, like he’s getting what he can before it ends. His tongue ventures past your lips one more time, pressing further than he had before. Is… Is his tongue longer than normal?

In the same moment that he pulls away from you, the hand on your jaw claps over your mouth to keep it shut. And there’s something in your mouth.

There’s something moving in your mouth.

You make a high pitched noise of panic as your eyes double in size, looking at him in terror while he holds you tightly to his front and keeps his hand firmly over your mouth. “Ah, ah, angel. You gotta swallow it.” He coos, his palm clammy and cold against your slick lips.

You shake your head as well as you can with his grip, making noises of protest as you struggle to keep the smooth, wiggling object from sliding down your throat. Your hands grab at his wrist and forearm, trying to pull him off, but his grip is too strong. Begging him with your eyes, sharp and stuttered breaths coming out of your nose as you hyperventilate, he just gives you a sad smile. “It’s not that bad, I promise. Just gotta swallow and it’ll be over – don’t make me plug your nose.”

Painful tears poke out of your eyes and start to descend down your cheeks, nails digging into his skin to try and get him off. It seems not to affect him at all, his other hand giving your waist a reassuring squeeze. “It’s okay, baby. It’s gonna be okay. This is it – you won’t have to do anything else. Come on, angel. You can do it. Just swallow for me.”

His words of encouragement make your head spin in confusion, panic mounting as the outcome seems inevitable. More tears pour down your cheeks as you choke on a sob, inadvertently allowing the object to slide down your throat.

“There we go,” he sighs in relief, grip on your face loosening, “Good girl.”

Somehow he knew that you’d swallowed it because he releases you right as you start to cough roughly, stumbling away from him and bending forward. You can still feel the strange coating from the creature on your tongue and down your esophagus – thick and wrong as you cough and gag.

Get it out, get it out, get it out, GET IT OUT, GET IT OUT!!

“What was– How do I– I’ve gotta–” You stammer, stumbling over your words as you tremble wildly and gag, your body responding to your panic by wanting to reject the new contents of your stomach.

He appears right beside you again, gripping both of your wrists with his hands as he forces you upright. “Don’t throw it up.” His voice is a command, his expression intense. “If you throw it up, I’ll have to force feed you another one. And trust me, it’s way less fun the 2nd time.”

Tears continue to pour from your eyes as you rapidly shake your head. “What was– What is– Why are you doing this? What was that thing?”

“Calm down, angel, please calm down,” he begs, starting to look distressed himself. “It’s gonna be okay, I swear, it’s gonna be fine. You’re a part of something bigger now. It’s all going to be okay.”

You try to pull out of his grip on your wrists, alternating between yanking back and rushing forward to push him away. “What the fuck does that mean?! What have you done to me?!” You shout through your tears, white hot panic spreading through your body. “It’s not too late – I can still, I can still throw it up, I can…”

He drags you in, wrapping you up in a tight bear hug with your arms trapped between the two of you. He shushes you, standing steady against your weakening struggling against him. “Shhh, shh, it’s alright, angel. It’s okay. You’re gonna get to go home, okay? We’re gonna get to go home.”

“Sir, we’ve got activity.”

Dr. Pierce pushes out of his desk chair fast enough to make his head spin – lack of sleep and too much coffee weakening him beyond measure. He’s barely left the main building since you went missing.

Since you were dragged through.

There have been constant patrols of the fault line you disappeared into, hoping for any sign of it waking up again. It was on his order and against the wishes of General Highland. She’s a level 1 researcher. She knew the risks. It’s not worth the cost.

But you didn’t know the risks, not really. Pierce knows he didn’t do enough to prepare you, to warn you. He didn’t do enough to protect you.

This is his fault.

He’s not the only one buzzing with anticipation as he exits his darkened office; several other scientists and field agents are reacting to the news of activity with a rush. Not everyone will be allowed to go to the site, as it would be a madhouse, but several live cameras and other surveillance equipment have been set up in the area. At least a quarter of the bureau across the country will be intently watching whatever happens next.

Pierce says nothing as he makes his way for the garage and the people he passes know better than to approach him now. He can still feel their eyes – judgemental, curious, concerned. He’s felt their eyes for days.

There are several SUVs already prepared by the time he arrives, most already full of people who were approved to be on site in the case of reactivation. He recognizes the soldier standing by waiting for him as Private Steve Harrington, the same man who brought in the recorder originally. He’s one of the few people at the bureau with prior knowledge of the other dimension despite his low rank.

“Sir,” he greets with a respectful head dip, opening the backdoor of the SUV for Pierce as he approaches. Pierce returns the gesture before climbing into the backseat, sliding across the bench to the opposite side. Steve gets in after him, his bulky gear forcing him to sit far forward on the bucket seat as he slams the door closed behind him.

It only takes another minute or so before the caravan lurches and begins to move, following after the identical black SUV in front of it.

The walkie-talkie on Steve’s shoulder kicks to life quietly, a short and concise signal coming through that Pierce doesn’t understand. The exhausted scientist looks over curiously as Steve murmurs an, “Affirmative,” into the device before clicking it off.

“Any news from the fault?”

Steve glances over, surprised to be addressed, before he turns back to look out the front windshield. “Nothing yet, sir.”

Pierce keeps an eye on the soldier as they travel – watching with intrigue as the man continuously searches the vehicle’s surroundings, like he’s expecting an attack.

“You seem on edge, Steve.” He straightens in response, looking even more uncomfortable at being referred to by his first name. “Is it because the gate is active?”

A muscle in his jaw rolling with tension, Steve keeps his gaze firmly forward as he responds. “It doesn’t supply a good feeling, that’s for sure.”

“And yet you still volunteered for the theoretical strike team to go through?” Pierce wonders aloud, phrasing it like a question.

There’s a tense moment of silence before the private answers. “At least I already know what to expect on the other side.”

The two don’t interact again for the reminder of the drive.

The SUVs all pull into the vacant field beside the field tent in a line, the leader of the patrol team coming out to meet the first vehicle. Pierce watches General Highland step out of it and start to converse with the uniformed woman. By the time he makes it way over, he seems to be catching the tail end of the conversation.

“We have each unit spread out in even intervals along the fault; so far there has been no change since it first activated.”

“And they all have their protective equipment on, I presume?” Dr. Pierce cuts in, surprising the patrol leader and earning an annoyed look from General Highland.

“Yes sir,” she responds with a head nod. “I was just telling the general that they’re all outfitted with gear to protect them from the worst of the radiation, but it would still do good to regularly swap out the unit in the center, where the worst of it is.”

Pierce agrees with a stiff nod, not waiting to hear the general disagree before he turns to look back. As he expected, Private Harrington trailed him over, waiting a respectful distance away as to not eavesdrop. “Harrington.”

Steve turns at the call, jogging over to Pierce. “Sir.”

“Suit up. You’re coming with me to the source.”

“Yes sir.”

The pair of them push into the field tent, currently staffed with 15 more people than usual. There are researchers and scientists bent over displays and documenting readings, soldiers standing by with weapons, field agents watching over the researchers shoulders. Pierce walks past all of them, parting the way as he does, and starts to strip off his lab coat while pulling a radiation suit off the rack. Steve follows suit, removing a majority of his gear to reequip on top of the plastic suit.

The buzz of excited chatter is nearly grating on Pierce’s ears as he goes through the annoying process of putting on the PPE. But he misses it when it suddenly cuts off, directly after one of the researchers announces, “We’ve got a spike in activity!”

Pierce looks over at Steve, who is still clipping things to his belt again. “We’ve gotta move.”

“Yes sir,” Steve repeats once more, gathering the bare necessities in his arms to try to equip as they move. The pair of them push out the other side of the tent and set into a jog towards what used to be Forest Hills Trailer Park.

They pass a few pairs of outfitted people as they move – soldiers patrolling and scientists maintaining the monitoring equipment placed along the fault. None of them interact as the pair jogs past, heading for the end of the fault line. They can see a small group ahead – presumably gathered closer to where the spike in activity happened.

“Make some room!” Steve barks out as they approach, the gathered group moving further away from the fault line in response. Some look back to see who is coming while others keep their eyes locked on the glowing source beyond.

“Keep at least 10 feet back from the fault at all times,” Pierce orders the group as they pass. “Stay in pairs, don’t go off on your own. We have very little idea what we’re dealing with here, but we have reason to believe there are things that will try to drag you through the gate. If something comes out, fall back and call out. Don’t let your partner get grabbed.”

There is some murmuring in response, but no one openly disregards the order, starting to pair off as a few people move further back along the fault line. Pierce approaches a pair hunched over a meter near the source, keeping his eyes on the glowing red below. “What are we looking at?”

“It’s fluctuating slightly; was 116 mv/m at 31016 Hz at peak.” The researcher responds, keeping a close eye on the EMF before them. “Nothing close to the reported 189 mv/m. We might not be looking at full activation. Or maybe it’s building up, it’s hard to say.”

“Wait,” Steve cuts in, holding a hand out for the researcher to pause. “Do you hear that?”

They all fall silent, listening closely.

Then Pierce hears it – the hum from the recording. The one you were talking about hearing.

The scientist gives him a nod of agreement before looking back to the researcher. “Any sign of movement from the other side?”

“Not that we can tell from here,” the field agent answers for them. “We’ve been following the guidelines to stay back so it’s hard to catch anything from here.”

“Radio? Portable EMF?” Dr. Pierce asks, and the field agent presents both. He takes them and then looks back at Steve. “We’re moving up.”

Even behind the protection of the face shield, Pierce can see the tension in his expression. Regardless, the private still answers with a confident, “Yes sir.”

Keeping the meter within eyesight, the two push ahead, closer to the large opening at the source. Pierce watches it tick up with each step closer, crossing the 150 mark as they get within 5 feet of the edge. Looking out across the opening, the glowing membrane pulses and hums with energy, louder and louder as they approach.

There’s very little movement on the other side, but every once in a while Pierce catches a glimpse of a dark shadow moving beyond.

“Never gets any less unsettling to look at,” Steve murmurs beside him, shifting his weight between his feet as he keeps his eyes locked on the unbroken membrane.

“Dr. Pierce, we’ve got another spike!” The researcher calls from behind, voice sounding a bit concerned. “We’re edging 170 now.”

The humming increases steadily along with a slight vibration in the ground beneath their feet. Steve steps up beside Pierce, a hand out like he’s ready to drag him back from the edge, as Pierce stares into the membrane intensely.

Come on. Come on. Come back through. Just be alive. Come on. Please be alive.

A more defined shadow moves along the edge closest to the trailer and doesn’t pull back. “We’ve got movement!” Steve calls back, alerting the nearby units as Pierce’s hand flies out to hush him. They both watch with a certain level of horrified fascination as the shadow grows defined enough to make that section of the membrane appear black before it begins to tear.

A bare hand extends out of the membrane, blindly grasping for the nearby edge. Steve twitches forward, like he wants to go and help them, but Pierce holds him back wordlessly, leaving them both standing perfectly still as another hand appears and grabs onto the edge.

The person uses the grip on the edge to pull themselves through – a woman in a filthy tank top and jeans struggling to pull herself onto the flat ground. As soon as she is through, she quickly turns around on her knees and reaches back through the membrane.

You’re… You’re actually alive.

Several soldiers approach slowly with their rifles out, aiming at you as you take hold of someone else’s hand and start to pull them through. A pale man with long, messy hair appears from the other side, holding on tightly to you as you help him reorient to the change in perspective. “No way…” Steve whispers, standing frozen as he watches them start to sit up and look around.

“Dr. Pierce!” You call happily once you spot him, waving at him like you’re excited to see him. There’s a huge smile on your face, a stark contrast to your utterly disheveled appearance. “I made it! I’m back!”

The soldiers continue to keep their weapons trained on the newcomers, watching for some sign of aggression. You slowly get to your feet, offering your hand to your companion and helping him up too. Steve takes a few mindless steps towards them, Dr. Pierce no longer stopping him. “Eddie?” He calls uncertainly, like he can’t believe what he’s seeing. “Eddie, is that you?”

The man’s head perks up, looking in Steve’s direction. “Harrington?” He replies, sounding just as uncertain and confused. “Is that you in there?”

“Eddie, as in Eddie Munson?” Dr. Pierce asks Steve, still unmoving as he stares at you, seemingly unharmed.

“Yeah…” Steve breathes out, still looking stunned. “And he doesn’t look like he’s aged a day.”

You and Eddie start to walk over when a soldier barks at you to stay back, both of you nervously putting your hands up as you look between the armed soldiers, Steve, and Pierce.

“It’s me, Dr. Pierce. It’s really me.” You insist, looking at him pleadingly. “And this is Eddie, he helped me find my way back. He saved me.” You add, motioning to the man beside you. The two of you are close together; you stand slightly in front of Eddie, like you’re protecting him. Eddie just offers a sheepish smile and a shrug, like it was no big deal.

“Sir? What do we do?” One of the soldiers asks, glancing in Dr. Pierce’s direction.

The two of you look exhausted, dirty, hungry, but… Harmless. No worse for wear despite the time spent on the other side.

“Bring them in.” Pierce orders. “No excessive force. They’ve been through a lot.”

The soldiers nod, lowering their weapons and urging you both to come forward. You look particularly relieved, while Eddie appears mostly unphased by all of it.

“Thank god, I need a shower so badly.” You announce with a happy laugh, walking toward them as you shake your head and make a disgusted face. “No one smell me, I’m begging you.”

If anyone finds your behavior unsettling or strange, they don’t say so. Everyone mostly looks relieved it didn’t turn into some kind of fight. While there is something off about how you’re acting, Dr. Pierce can’t find it in himself to feel anything besides relief at your return.

Steve stands motionless and tense as Eddie approaches, looking every bit like he’s seen a ghost. There is no excitement, no relief, no… Trust. Like this is all a bad dream and he just wants to wake up.

Just before you and Eddie pass the two of them, you flash another excited smile. “And not a moment too soon – I’m so thirsty.” You look over at Eddie, who nods in agreement, before you continue walking toward the field tent in the distance, flanked on either side by armed soldiers.

Eddie stops by Steve, giving him a tilted smile. “Hey Harrington, didn’t expect to see you here.”

“I could say the same to you,” Steve replies, his tone apprehensive and flat. If Eddie catches on, he doesn’t show it, just continuing to show that same smile – like he knows something you don’t.

“What can I say?” He offers with a shrug and a wink before he continues to trail after you and toward the growing crowd beyond. “It’s good to be back.”

thanks for reading, please let me know if you liked it!!

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x afab!reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson angst #eddie munson oneshot #flayed!eddie munson #kas!eddie #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #posting a oneshot that barely explains an entire fic universe you've never told anyone about :)#myos ideas #myo4munson

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ilys00ga · 3 months

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𝗶𝗻 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗵𝗮𝗻𝗱𝘀, 𝘂𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗻𝗮𝗶𝗹𝘀.

➞ pair: yoongi x reader.

➞ genre: hurt/comfort (why do I keep making these lmao), established relationships, I'm so bad at tagging sorry.

➞ warnings: angst and fluff cuz we all need that (we really do). reader has anxiety and abandonment issues, yoongi is trying his best for the sake of both of them, just relationship things.

➞ A/N: requested by @parkjennykim, this was very fun to write! thanks for yet another idea <3 I hope u like it. I'm organizing this blog/post (?) while listening to mono, and let me tell yall, it's such a vibe omg. I think you should read this while listening to that album, I love it sm, I can't even begin to explain UGH- if namjoon ever goes on a world tour, he better perform every single song in that album, cuz imma be losing my mind in the crowd, esp during moonchild. my vocal cords are already getting sore. yeah. if u want this to hit that spot, maybe u should do what I said (this is a friendly order, if u will). if not, just enjoy and pls ignore any mistakes, english has been challenging me recently (for the last 10 years lmao)

ps. I am in a dire need of a yoongi in my life. specifically the one I wrote in this one. oh how I love being a lonely fanfic writer <33

★ MASTERLIST.

ᵎᵎ 𖦹彡⋆｡˚・ ─ ・ ⋯ ・ ─ ⊹ ♡₊˚๑

God knows how long it had been after it hit midnight when Yoongi stood in the kitchen. His eyes were red and heavy with drowsiness, but he couldn't sleep that night.

How does one sleep through a restless, biting night?

Surely not with a bad headache, or overflowing thoughts, and especially not with guilt chewing on his core.

He gulped, throat begging to be quenched as it held onto a slight, delicious, yet bothersome burning sensation. He opened the fridge and filled a glass with some water, raising it to his lips when loud a cry of his name, followed with a thud and a number of sobs, disturbed the quiet of the night and made him jump, startled.

His limbs froze in their place, glass almost slipping his hand and crashing on the floor when his sleep deprived brain realized that the muffled cries were yours.

Wide awake, he dashed after the sound. Thirst and sleep no longer occupied his mind, all he could think of was holding you in his arms.

He found you on the stairs, trembling as you wailed into your hands.

He hated it so much: seeing you in pain. He wanted nothing more than to shield you from the rainfall of your gloomy sky, from his own rainfall, from the world. How could one be an umbrella and the rain at once?

He blinked, once, twice, then gulped and heaved a deep, tired breath.

One storm doesn’t require another storm to be calmed down, that he knew. One needs to be composed and collected to stand still during a storm, that he knew as well.

With worried eyes, he gently called out your name and walked up to you, “darling, what’s wrong?”

You looked up as soon as you heard his worried voice, some tiny sense of relief washed over you when you saw him right there. A hundred daggers digged so deep into his heart and bones, aching, the moment a broken whimper of his name fell from your lips.

Without a second thought, Yoongi hugged your face to his chest. One of his hands was patting your back and the other affectionately caressed your head.

As he listened to his name that never left your lips, Yoongi held you there on the cold of the stairs with nothing but sweet nothings whispered back to your ears.

Everything he did and said was so gentle and soft, like he was so afraid you'd crack and come to tiny bits and pieces at any given moment. It all made you want to cry even harder, to hold him so tight and never let go.

Soon, when your tears started winding down, pulled away and cradled your face with his hands, palms faintly pressing on your cheeks as if he hoped to share their warmth with you.

Tender eyes met your wet ones and stared as their owner’s voice made its way through the noise of your sniffles and hiccups. He said, “It’s alright. I'm here. Talk to me, hmm?”

You answered his plea with a small nod, before wiping your tear stained skin and hugging him again. He smelt like home. You took a deep breath, greedily feeding your lungs with his lovely scent.

He hugged you back, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling your body closer to his. He pressed light kisses on your temple, patiently waiting for you to talk.

“I had a really scary nightmare. so, so scary- I woke up, didn’t find you there- then…then I remembered the fight we had earlier. I…I thought I lost you- I'm sorry. sorry for the stupid things I said earlier. I love you so much! please don’t leave. please..”

Your voice quivered with fresh tears ready to be spilled again. Yoongi started hushing you as soon as he noticed that you were working yourself up.

Squeezing you in his arms, he whispered “I never left, and I never will.”

“I’m all right, nothing happened to me, see?” he leaned away just enough to allow you to take a quick look at his body, then added, “a stupid fight is not going to make me leave. I love you way too much for that, and I'm sorry for hurting you too.”

He could still read fear and uncertainty all over your face, and he didn't like that. He knew that you trusted him, and he didn't doubt your love for him.

At first, he didn't get it. He didn't understand the insecurities, the anxiety and the nightmares you suffered from especially after the inevitably worst of arguments that happened between you and him. But after longer and deeper talks, with you expressing your feelings and him listening with careful ears, it made much more sense to him.

Sometimes he hated himself for triggering your alarms and making it harder for you, but he knew it was neither his fault nor was it yours.

Growth and pain are two key elements that come arm in arm with love, and fights are an unpreventable part of any kind of relationship. For all that, he always ended up blaming himself for making you question your worth to him when he can't even sleep without you happily cuddling his side.

Softly, lovingly, he started prepping tender kisses over your cheeks, nose, forehead, chin, temples, all over your flushed face.

It worked like watching waving fields of green wheat dancing with the wind, your storm started to slowly die down and your heart felt at ease again. slowly, but definitely.

Smiling ever so affectionately, Yoongi sealed his reassurance with a loving kiss that consumed you whole, and it left the corners of your mouth curving up in a dazzling smile. You nuzzled his chest and sighed.

“I really hate fighting with you.” you mumbled into his clothed chest, drained and light headed from all the crying and nearly-a-panic-attack you went through.

“I know, I'm sorry. I hate it too." he whispered back.

There was a pause of comfortable silence, with both of you breathing each other in, before he wondered aloud: “did you fall down the stairs? are you okay?”

You chuckled breathily at his question, recalling the hysteria he had to deal with just a few minutes ago. But Yoongi was there, right beside you. your arms were tightly wrapped around his torso, right by your side.

He had some kind of exceptionally irrepressible magic in those fierce eyes and that gummy smile of his, you inarguably couldn’t be more grateful for that.

“I'm alright. Was too busy crying, I didn’t even feel a thing to be honest.” you said, and he giggled.

“I love when you’re clumsy like that, but please be more careful, muffin. Can’t have you hurting yourself because of me even more." Even with your face buried into the crook of his neck, you could feel and hear the heavy pout in that comment.

Huffing, you leaned away with furrowed brows and a strict gaze. Yoongi gulped. Hesitation took over him, yet he knew that honesty is the only thing that must be present to drive this conversation to an end.

Honestly brings clarity, he found himself reminding himself of that very often.

"as long as we take care of each other, it's okay. I love you." you affirmed, and perhaps Yoongi almost teared up because of the way you looked at him right then and there. He wouldn't utter a word to spoil that information out loud, though.

The shy grin and the flushed cheeks you were met with were worth risking the entire world and its eight billion residents. You couldn't help but smile and pull him into another hug.

"This is great and all, but my butt is numbed. I think there's no blood flowing down there anymore," he said, his heart swooning when you giggled at his humorous change of topic, so relieved that he was finally able to hear your brightness again.

"Let's go back to rest, darling." He stood up, grabbed your hand and squeezed it in his, then gently pulled your body up and dragged you to your shared bedroom, where everything and everyone else meant little to nothing at all as you laid in each other's arms.

#yoongi x reader #yoongi #bts #yoongi scenarios #yoongi drabble #yoongi fluff #bts scenarios #bts yoongi #yoongi angst #hurt/comfort #suga fluff #bts fluff #suga angst #suga fic #abandoment issues #bts imagines #bts fic

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regretmedaisy · 6 months

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i can see you - tom riddle x fmc/reader

part II

loosely inspired by "i can see you" by taylor swift.

“I've been watchin' you for ages

And I spend my time tryin' not to feel it”

summary: She had always fancied Tom Riddle. It was an infatuation that bordered on love and obsession, that she had secretly grown and cared for, content with indulging in her fantasies and never bold enough to try and make them become reality.

When she meets him again in her adulthood, dormant longings resurface together with a newfound desire to be the object of his own devotion.

As their paths keep crossing, she starts to think he feels the same.

tags: afab mc, use of female pronouns and no descriptors (i tagged it as x reader because i guess it could be read as such if you use the same pronouns), somewhat period-accurate clothing, courtship (just a little because it's still tom riddle), fmc has a crush on tom, she's a bit anxious, a bit of fluff, explicit sexual desire, vaginal fingering, cunnilingus, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, woman is on top.

please note that mc has a crush on tom, therefore the way she refers to him could sound a bit cheesy and exaggerated. i edited this last night and didn't read it again before posting. i'm sorry for any typos or grammar mistakes i missed.

bear with her in this one, she's a little anxious.

words: 6.7K

you can find part I here, I strongly recommend you read that one first.

this is me crawling out of my hole of shame to post this chapter.

i'm really sorry for this very late update, but the smut chapter is finally here after many days of writing (but still in time for smutober lol).

it's not crazy smut, but i hope it was worth the wait.

Part II: And I could see you up against the wall with me

She tapped her foot, pursing her red lips as she jotted a few numbers down on a parchment. She sighed, taking another folder from the pile on her side and checking if the reports corresponded.

When Serena, her boss, had showed up that morning with two delivery men in tow, she already knew her day was going to take a detestable turn.

Serena had dropped three boxes full of last year's reports in the office and sprinted out of the door before they could say anything and try to stop her.

Apparently she had hired a cheap accountant to save money and now she had to review everything before the Ministry noticed and demanded an audit. Or rather, Serena had asked her to do it.

She was now holed up in the backroom while Will had taken her place in the main office, since Serena didn’t pay her enough to care about customers and save her from bankruptcy at the same time.

She glanced at the clock, noting that it was almost time for her usual break. She chewed the inside of her cheek and returned to the reports.

She wasn’t in the right mindset to meet Tom.

The day she had gone to see him had been like the calm before the literal storm. In the past week it had rained so heavily that she had had to give up on going out and he hadn’t come to post his letters. What had happened between them had been left unresolved.

She had replayed it so many times in her mind, at night and during idle moments in the office, picturing different ways in which it could have ended, desperately wishing she could indulge in his warm lips again.

The first few days she had fretted about it, but as the week had gone by without a word from him, she had just started to accept it as the normal course of things. Perhaps it had just been an extraordinary event, a moment that wasn’t going to repeat itself and that she needed to find contentment in. Perhaps it was supposed to be one of those memories she was going to return to in twenty years, thinking about everything she could have had, or it will sour in her mind, turning into regret while her lamenting soul grieved the possibilities of youth, the chances she had been too scared to take.

It didn’t matter that she was conscious of the anxious butterflies leading her decisions, she still didn’t want to find out if what she saw in him was just a product of her infatuated imagination.

She immersed herself in numbers, refusing to go down that rabbit hole again.

Fifteen minutes after the end of her break, a customer walked in. A beat of silence followed and then Will said, “She’s in the back.”

She almost jumped out of her seat, her heart rate picking up. She quickly smoothed her hair and sat straighter, crossing her legs.

Tom appeared in the doorway, his arm half raised as if he had wanted to knock. She pretended she had just noticed him.

“Good morning,” he said.

“Hello, Tom.” She gave him a mellow smile.

He was so good-looking, with his perfectly styled curls and black coat in the muted light of the cloudy morning. Her heart fluttered painfully.

He looked hesitant as he made his way to her and handed her a folded magazine. It was the weekly crossword.

“Thank you,” she said, taking it as her gaze met his. The way he was looking at her was so compelling it was impossible for her to divert her eyes.

He had been thinking of her, she realised, he had noticed her absence, perhaps even missed her.

“I hope I’m not disrupting your work.” His gaze trailed to the numerous papers scattered on the table.

“Not at all, a distraction is more than welcome.” The distraction of his presence was most desirable.

He drew closer, reading through them as he casually rested his hand on the back of her chair.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Maths mostly,” she replied, fiddling with the parchments to hide her nervousness.

He reached out over her shoulder to grab a folder but she placed a hand on his arm to stop him.

“I’d rather you didn’t. It’s still work.”

He dropped his arm. “You’re right, I apologise. I don’t wish to put you in an uncomfortable position.”

“It’s fine.”

He stepped to the side, tickling her neck.

“I’ll see you later?” he asked.

She had to stop herself from grinning.

“Of course.”

She watched him with desirous parted lips as he left. He said goodbye to Will and she heard the door closing. It was only a matter of minutes before Will came to pry.

She grabbed the crossword, flipping through the pages. He had bought her her favourite one.

As she got up to put it next to her bag, a small note fell to the ground. It was a plain piece of parchment. But as she picked it up, ready to throw it on the table with the rest of the documents, words started to appear.

Her breath caught in her throat. She knew to whom that elegant and neat handwriting belonged.

She read the note. Then read it again to make sure she wasn’t hallucinating.

“I hope to see you more often in the future.

You look stunning with that lip colour.

T.R.”

She brought her fingers to her mouth, staring at the words until each swirl of ink etched into her mind, terrified they might disappear.

Instead his message remained there, visible, tangible, real. He had taken time to write her a note, to think about something he knew she’d appreciate.

Something warm diffused in her chest, a new version of a familiar feeling, and a giggle escaped her as she realised the ridiculous effect he had on her.

She was so engrossed in her reverie that she didn’t notice Will standing in the door until he cleared his throat.

She quickly hid the message in her purse and he was so considerate not to comment on it.

“How is it going?” he asked.

“Awfully slowly, these numbers are all over the place,” she huffed, returning to her chair.

He dragged a chair and sat across from her. He started bouncing his knee. “I know you’d prefer not to talk about this, but how are things between you two?”

She stopped twirling her quill. “What do you mean?”

Will shuffled awkwardly in his seat. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy for you but I’d hate to see you hurt.”

She tilted her head to the side, disliking the territory the conversation was heading towards.

He was struggling with his words. “He never- I never saw him interested in a girl. I just want to be sure you know what you can expect from him.”

She averted her eyes. “I have considered all the options.”

“And?”

“And I don’t know, Will!” she bursted out.

Her flare of annoyance suddenly deflated, making room for embarrassment for what he probably saw as naivety.

“I know I’m probably getting ahead of myself.”

“You are smart, I just can’t stand watching you smile at the things he writes to you.”

She feigned offence and threw a balled up paper at him.

“When you find someone, you’ll be just as ridiculous.”

He laughed and steepled his fingers in front of him. “I’m curious to know, when did it start?”

She scrunched her eyebrows, thinking about how much she wanted to reveal. “I don’t remember exactly. It was more like a sequence of events, until one day I was anxiously waiting for him to sit at his usual spot at breakfast,” she replied with a smile. Will was smiling too.

“You and half of Hogwarts,” he said.

She chuckled. “I miss those years sometimes. Everything was simpler.”

“I used to worry about everything,” he admitted. “But fears always seem so big.”

They really did.

“What do you like about him?” he asked after a beat of silence.

It was her turn to be at a loss of words. “He’s handsome…and always so mysterious. I think I always liked him because it was easy to imagine him being exactly what I wanted.” She looked at him hesitantly, fearing judgement, but he was just listening. “But I think it’s impossible for me to dislike the real him.”

They shared a small moment of closure. She had always wished for someone she could confide in, someone that could help her see beyond the fabrications of her wary heart, and perhaps she had finally found them.

The bell chimed and Will got up.

“Do you want to come for lunch on Sunday?” she asked.

“I’d love to. I’m sorry for earlier, I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

His gaze shifted between the door and her. “Just make sure you both want the same thing.”

He went back, leaving her at the mercy of her insidious brain and foolish heart.

Throughout the afternoon she had opened the note at least three times, giggling like a schoolgirl everytime she read his words.

Her mind kept straying to what he had said.

“I’ll see you later.”

She wasn’t sure what he had actually meant. Was he just going to stop by or was he going to wait for the office to close? She wasn’t even sure she could see him today, since she expected to stay late to solve Serena’s mess.

Will popped in. “I have to check something at the owlery. I’ll be back in a while.”

“Alright, I’ll see you later.”

The door opened and closed and then she was submerged by stillness. It was soothing almost.

She had found out long ago that she enjoyed being alone, it freed her of any kind of expectation.

She turned up the heating with her wand and took off her jacket. Since they couldn’t light a fireplace in a room full of paper, they had refined a spell that kept the room warm and the humidity away.

It was a few minutes after the usual closing hour that the door opened again. She knew who it was.

He walked in, his cheeks slightly flushed from the cold and his lips reddened.

“Are you still working?” he asked.

She nodded. “I’m afraid it’ll take a while before I’m free to go.”

“It’s not a problem,” he said, grabbing her crossword and a quill and sitting down on a chair, bending one leg so that his ankle rested on his other knee.

Her face heated as she watched him but she didn’t say anything.

As she returned to her work, she realised that silence was a strange assistant. It felt like every sound was heightened and she was becoming keenly aware of everything that was happening. The scratching of their quill on parchment, paper being flipped as she checked the numbers or he looked for a crossword he liked, his soft breath threatening to pull her close like a magnet, her absentmindedly chipping her nail polish.

She kept throwing glances in his direction and she could feel his eyes on her from time to time.

An unspoken craving was growing between them again. She had waited long enough.

She slowly got up, gathering her reports and stacking them in a neat pile. She then took them and walked over to the shelves, conveniently passing by Riddle in doing so.

As she stored them, his chair scraped on the ground and she felt him draw closer. She deliberately turned around, meeting his eyes.

His gaze was deep, like he was trying to read every thought that crossed her mind just by looking at her. She wasn’t going to lay them bare for him.

He raised his hand, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “Did you get my message?”

“I did,” she replied, stepping forward and trailing her fingers down his suit jacket, feeling the fabric. “You keep mentioning it but this is the first time I’ve seen you all week.”

“It was storming all week,” he pointed out.

She tilted her head, finding his eyes again. His eagerness was palpable. “Still,” she said.

He grabbed her waist, pressing her body flush against his. “And you still haven’t answered my question.”

She had thought about that moment since then.

“Tell me what you desire the most.”

What could she tell him? That she had been pining for him for so long she couldn’t imagine herself with anyone else? That she was jealous of even thinking about him with someone else? Will’s words played in her mind.

She leaned closer, murmuring against his ear. “Not until I know why you’re here, Tom.”

She left a kiss on his jaw, phantom lips brushing against his flawless skin.

“It’s a really uncomplicated answer,” he said, caressing her back.

“Explain it to me, then.”

Tender amusement tugged at the corners of his lips. “Do you really think I came here because I don’t own an owl?”

His words pulled at her heartstrings with raw delight and her mind went blank. Adrenaline was rushing through her as she listened to her impulses. It was enough, at least for now it was enough.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and tangled her hand in his hair, involuntarily tugging at the strands as she leaned closer. She could feel his warm breath as he pulled her in, gripping the silky fabric of her blouse.

She met his lips halfway, the burning touch consuming her as he pressed her against the shelves, one hand lost in her hair, the other splayed around her ribcage.

She bit his lower lip, smiling as it elicited a groan from him and the kiss became more demanding.

It was a moment frozen in time, where she wanted to stay forever, like the scenery in a snowglobe.

“Hello?”

A man’s voice abruptly pulled them apart. She was breathless as she realised she had forgotten to lock the door. Was this a conspiracy?

Tom was slightly panting and she left a small kiss on his neck.

“Don’t leave,” she whispered.

She used a finger to fix her smudged lipstick and went to see who had just dared to interrupt them.

There was a man standing in the office.

“We’re closed,” she said.

“But I saw the light on.”

There was a twitch in her jaw. “We are closed to the public. I must ask you to come tomorrow morning.”

He rolled his eyes and she ignored his grumbling as he left, locking the door behind him. When she went back, Tom was leaning against the table.

He turned his head towards her as she languidly got closer. She forgot pleasantries, immediately grabbing his face to kiss him again. He was quick to react, wrapping his arms around her.

His mouth trailed down, kissing her cheek, her jaw and then pressing against her neck, soft lips and the occasional scrape of his teeth.

He grabbed her waist and spun her around, flattening her back against his chest and brushing her hair away from her neck to bite and lick her skin. His hands travelled down and he started gathering the fabric of her skirt.

Merlin, it was finally happening.

He caressed her inner thigh, tracing patterns and snapping the nylon of her stockings as his fingers moved excruciatingly slow.

Finally he pulled her underwear to the side, feeling the wetness between her folds with his fingers as his other hand cupped her breast.

She threw her head back against his shoulder as he stroked her clit, eliciting a sigh out of her, and she grabbed his thigh for support.

“I won’t drop you,” he murmured, amused, against her ear. He rubbed his palm over her clothed breast, the friction causing sparks to jolt through her body.

None of her fantasies came even close to what she was feeling right now.

“Should I trust you?” she asked, biting her lip to suppress a moan as he sunk one finger inside of her, his thumb still applying pressure on her clit.

“Such a great timing to ask me that,” he replied. She felt him smile on her skin.

“We don’t really know each other, Tom.” She dug her fingers into his flesh as he slipped in a second finger and started fingering her, stretching her as pleasure morphed her features.

“And yet you are letting me do this.” He squeezed her breast, lewd wet sounds filling the room as he kept moving his fingers inside of her.

She leaned her body weight completely on him, her legs unsteady as it was precarious the beating of her heart.

He let out a low moan as she yanked his hair to catch his mouth, biting his lip hard to gain better access, their tongues tangling together.

He curled his fingers inside of her, an unrelenting wave of pleasure washing over her.

She stopped to imagine what it would be like if he dropped to his knees again, if he started kissing and licking her, if she could watch him at her mercy between her legs.

She realised in that moment that the fall down the precipice was inevitable. Tom had threatened to push her but she had allowed him to succeed, jumping into an abyss that felt unending but that could only allow two conclusions to her story.

What she had told Will was true. She loved the fantasy, all the glances, conversations, gestures that had never happened, that she had delighted herself with when the reality was harsher, but as she kissed him she knew that falling for the real Tom was unavoidable. Not if he kept touching her like that.

It was bound to happen, it was part of her story, the decision she was brave enough to take.

She focused on him, on the circles his thumb was drawing on her clit, on the indecent sounds falling from her lips, on his groans on her reddened skin, on him growing harder against her back.

He pulled her hair back, tilting her head to meet her gaze. His eyes glimmered with rapture while hers were heavy-lidded, tension building inside of her.

He didn’t take his eyes off of her, as if he wanted to memorise each detail of her, the way she looked at him, the way her lips parted slightly and the way she panted as she was nearing her orgasm.

“Just like that, darling,” he murmured, a pleased smile on his lips as he noticed she was still blushing.

She threw her head back, losing herself in the motion of his fingers, surrendering herself as blissed moans spilled out shamelessly. She squeezed his soaked fingers, and he kept moving, stroking her throughout her climax.

She panted, coming down from her apex in a flurry of emotions and flustered thoughts. He raised his wet fingers to her lips and she opened her mouth, tasting herself on her tongue as she sucked on them, never breaking eye contact.

“Good girl,” he said, holding her jaw and kissing her.

It was a slow kiss, meant to explore her depths in a different way from the breathless and unrestrained passion from before. She leaned into his palm, her hand closing around his wrist.

His arms snaked around her waist and he turned them around, pushing under her thighs to lift her on the table.

The kiss transformed again.

Teeth and tongues met with vehemence, burning urgency guiding their movements as he brought her legs around his waist and she quickly started to unbutton her blouse.

But at the third button, she stopped.

Tom noticed the shift in her demeanour and drew back, observing her. Her eyes flew to the clock, as she had just remembered about Will.

She noticed with disappointment that they had no time.

“What is it?” he asked. She didn’t miss the urgent tone of his question.

“Will will be back any time now,” she replied, leaving a peck on his lips.

He cleared his throat and stepped back, composing himself. She got off the table and

cool hands unexpectedly reached her again, adjusting her clothes and stockings. She shivered at the contact.

He smoothed her skirt and put his coat back on, watching her as she scribbled something on a piece of paper and gave it to him.

“If you want to stop by one of these days.”

“I remember where you live,” he replied, reading the address she had written down.

She shrugged, holding out one finger to wipe away the lipstick at the corner of his mouth.

“Do you have to go back to work?”

“I was supposed to meet with a potential supplier, so yes.”

“I’d stop by the bathroom before,” she advised, gesturing for him to go as she herself needed to compose herself again.

She braced herself against the threshold, leaning her head on the hard wood as she watched him unlock the door and leave.

Then she was alone, finally finding an answer in the cluster of hypotheses that had tormented her mind.

Two days later, as she was returning from her meeting with Serena, she found Tom waiting for her.

He was talking to Will and they both turned to her as she entered, feeling tremendously self-conscious.

“How is Serena?” Will asked.

“Dim-witted as always,” she replied, earning a laugh from Will.

Her eyes trailed to Riddle, holding an unspoken question.

Will seemed to notice because he stepped forwards.

“It’s quite late, you can go if you want, I’ll close.”

Tom didn’t wait for him to repeat himself, pushing down the handle and holding the door open for her.

She mouthed a ‘thank you’ to him and followed Tom outside. Once in the street, she huddled herself in her coat and took the arm he was offering her.

“May I walk you home?” he asked.

“Of course,” she said, a little breathy, still not immune to the chivalrous manners he always had with her.

They strolled through the streets, passing by scarcer and scarcer people as the stores emptied and everyone returned home seeking a tranquil evening.

She held his arm tightly, her fingers tracing delicate patterns on the fabric of his coat.

The first time they had walked together it had felt like an accident, a singular mistake in the already waved threads of her life. This time, she yearned for so much more than she wanted for the error to repeat itself; she was willing to cut the strings herself and tie them back together, as messy as it might have looked.

They crossed the road and he gently put a hand on her waist, pushing her away from the pavement.

“Would you fancy dinner?” he asked. There was a foreign quality in his voice and when she turned to look at him, he averted his eyes. She blinked bewildered. Was he nervous?

“I’d love to,” she replied and she noticed his chest rising like he had just begun breathing again. “But not tonight.”

An almost imperceptible smile cleared his expression at her answer and she leaned her head on his shoulder, basking in his mere presence.

When they reached her front door, she looked for her keys with embarrassingly clammy hands.

As she lifted her head to ask Tom if he wanted to stay, she found his eyes impatiently boring into her bag.

“Would you-”

His gaze snapped to her, serious and scorching. “Don’t even ask.”

Something coiled between her legs at the way he was looking at her. She nodded and walked up the few stairs to her door, unlocking it.

“Second floor,” she said, more to fill the silence than anything else.

They stepped into the building, the sound of her heels and the soles of his shoes hitting the stone ricocheting through the empty hall.

She turned to gesture to him to follow her when he grabbed her face, kissing her as he pushed her against the wall by the foot of the stairs. Her hands tangled in his hair, tugging at it just as she suspected he loved by the way he always pressed himself harder against her.

He curved his palm around her cheek, better angling her face as their tongues met.

“I have a nosy neighbour,” she said after they pulled apart to catch their breath. “She is probably spying on us through her peephole.”

Tom didn’t think twice about it, taking her hand and leading her up to the second floor. She stifled a laugh as she unlocked the door, Tom’s lips skimming against her neck as she did, and was left breathless when he closed it unceremoniously behind them, resuming from where they had been interrupted.

As she dropped her bag and grabbed his waist, walking backwards into her living room, she remembered there were clothes somewhere - perhaps in the bathroom but she wasn’t sure - that she had forgotten to put away yesterday.

In any case, Tom didn’t look particularly interested in how tidy she was.

They quickly took off each other's coats and discarded them on the floor.

He sat on her sofa, pulling her down with him.

She was straddling him, her knees digging into the plush cushions as his hands appreciatively caressed her back, moving up and down and occasionally squeezing. She lit the fireplace with a wave of her hand.

She rocked her hips, rubbing against him and eliciting a long awaited moan from him. She grabbed the collar of his shirt, their lips collading so hard she was sure she cut him.

She helped him out of his jacket and vest and undid his tie, smoothing her hands on his white button-down.

“I’ve waited too long,” she said, quickly unbuttoning his shirt and grinding against him. Her hands disappeared under his undershirt and ran over his pale chest, lightly scratching his skin.

“Slowly, my dear. We will get there,” he replied between kisses.

His palms kept tracing her thighs and his face buried in her neck, nibbling at the thin skin.

When she was a small girl, before she discovered sex, Tom Riddle was just a boy she liked. During puberty, sharing stories and questions with her friends, she started to understand what was the sensation that passed through her everytime she was close to him, the one that made her cheeks redden and her mind go somewhere she wasn’t yet comfortable with.

As an adult, sexual relations weren’t unfamiliar to her, but this carnal longing, the need of a physicality that went beyond her skin touching his, was.

He opened her blouse, revealing her silk slip and bra underneath.

She wanted to touch his soul, to hold it and comprehend it.

Her eyes fell on the tattoo on his forearm, black tendrils of ink in the shape of a serpent slithering out of a skull.

“Does this have a meaning?” she asked.

He followed her gaze, blinking surprised at her question. “It does.”

“Am I prying too much if I say I’m curious to learn it?”

He bit his lip, opening and closing his fist as if he was scrambling for words. Or perhaps he was just determining if he could trust her.

“It’s a reinterpretation of the ouroboros, the snake eating its own tail,” he finally said. “It symbolises eternity and the renewal of the being after rebirth.”

She traced her fingers on his skin, following the outline of the snake. “And what does your interpretation mean?”

“There is time to talk about it later,” he whispered, his teeth biting her neck and sinking lower, kissing her collarbone and her sternum, moving the fabric covering her breasts to the side.

She let go of the subject. She knew what it meant not being comfortable sharing your life.

He held one breast between his fingers, latching his mouth over the other, sucking her nipple and twirling his tongue around it.

She moaned, rolling her hips faster as he revered her bosom, the cold air hitting her moist skin and making her shiver as he took her other nipple in his mouth, lightly tugging at it until she reached the point where pleasure and discomfort mixed.

“Since we are in the mood for confessions…” she said between moans. He raised his head and looked at her waiting for her to continue. She hesitated, collecting all her courage.

“Why did you pursue me?”

His eyes softened, glimmering with fondness. He brushed a strand of hair away from her face.

“Because there is something extremely valuable in your devotion.” His voice was an intimate murmur, a confession no one else could hear.

She freezed, turning her head to the side to hide her mortification.

He took her chin, searching for her eyes until she finally gave in.

“Don’t be embarrassed, darling, I respect it, I understand it. Obsession keeps us alive, it’s what drives us.”

She swallowed the lump of embarrassment in her throat. “Do you enjoy it?”

“Being the object of the desire of such a woman? Of a witch? I do,” he replied, and he was so direct and earnest that her heart swelled.

He lifted her to sit on the sofa, sliding down on his knees on the floor and taking off his shirt and vest. She remained silent as he rolled down her tights, his lips gliding down her smooth skin. He unbuttoned her skirt and helped her out of it, tracing patterns on her inner thigh as his other hand felt her damp underwear.

She tensed, something tightening in her lower abdomen and her eyes fell down to his trousers.

He kissed the crease of the thigh, like he had done that one time at Borgin and Burkes, but this time she wasn’t letting anyone interrupt them.

He took off her underwear, his movements deliberately slow, and kissed her everywhere, except there.

His lips felt hot on her skin, searing her flesh like she had often dreamed about, carving his way into her body the same way he had done with her mind and heart, until her entire soul was consumed by him, until he could finally close that fist and feel her in a way nobody had before.

Her breath hitched as he delicately kissed her mound, spreading her legs apart. She leaned her head against the backrest, licking her lips with anticipation, and she couldn’t contain a whimper as he felt his tongue dragging down her slit, sweet and cruel.

He took her clit in his mouth, sucking on it as his hand splayed on her abdomen to keep her still.

She squeezed her eyes shut, overwhelmed.

“Look at me, darling,” he murmured against her folds. His breath was warm and pleasant.

She obliged, meeting his devilish grinning figure between her legs. She was incapable of looking away as he resumed his work, she didn’t want to look away. She wanted to watch him, finally allowing herself to fully indulge in him, in what he wished to do for her.

She observed his curved eyelashes, the way his perceptive eyes followed her reactions, refining his movements to please her better.

He sucked her labia and she moaned loudly, the idea of him enjoying this as much as her being exhilarating.

He threw her leg on his shoulder, resulting in her figure sliding down the cushions and him gaining better access to her.

His tongue probed her entrance as he coated his fingers in her wetness. He slipped one finger in, working her thoroughly as she gripped his hair, keeping his head in place.

He inserted a second finger, his tongue on her clit moving accordingly to the delighted sounds she emitted.

“Tom,” she cried urgently as she tried to press herself harder against him.

He curled his fingers inside of her and her hips jolted upwards, arching her back to an uncomfortable angle as she reached her orgasm with lascivious bliss, her obscene moans matching the wet sounds he produced by licking her until she came down from her climax.

“Tom,” she said again, so breathless her voice was a raspy whisper.

“I know,” he said, kissing her leg and inhaling deeply, like he was trying to commit the moment to memory.

He brought his fingers to his mouth, licking them clean as she let her watch.

She gently pushed him onto the carpet, bracing her hands on his shoulder as she sat on top of him. The fire was burning, enveloping their almost naked figures in warm orange light, heating their already scalding skin.

She took off her blouse with quivery hands, his gaze tracing her naked form that was slowly revealing itself. She hooked her fingers into the straps of her slip, pulling it down and then getting rid of it altogether. His hands on her waist tensed as she did the same for her bra.

Her lips parted as he touched her breast with both hands, kneading the soft flesh, tracing her areolae.

She undid his trousers, pulling down the fabric until they were both completely naked. She took him in her hand, her fingers closing tentatively around him. Her hand started sliding up and down, her pace getting quicker and more confident as moans escaped him. She brushed her thumb on his tip, her eyes admiring what was in front of her. His lips were swollen, residue of her lipstick still on them, his hair was tousled, curls falling disorderly on his forehead, his eyes heavy-lidded as he looked at her. She felt a rush of satisfaction in knowing his current state was her doing, that she had enough power over him to ruin his flawless exterior, to make him want her to do it.

His lips caught hers and he gently pushed her hand away.

What happened after felt like rehearsed choreography, something so familiar it was impossible to forget. Their bodies moved together, their movements responsive to each other, doing and touching exactly where it mattered.

She pushed herself up on her knees, slowly lowering herself until she sank down on him completely, shuddering breaths escaping her lips.

His jaw was tense as she placed a hand on his shoulder for support, positioning herself better.

She didn’t break eye contact as she rolled her hips, soaking in the hazy blue of his eyes, in every twitch of his jaw and emotion he was feeling as she increased her pace, in his voice murmuring her name against her ear as his hands squeezed her tights and traced her back.

Skin slapped against skin, his touch inebriating as he felt every part of her, caressing her, massaging her, kissing her until she couldn’t take it anymore. Almost.

His hand dipped between her legs again, stroking her clit as she rocked her hips, eliciting groans from both of them.

Sentiment and pleasure fused together in an exhilarating moment, seared in her mind and flesh forever.

She kissed him again - she could never get tired of that - and bit his lower lip roughly as his other hand went to her breast again, pulling at her nipple.

She threw her head back, letting his mouth scrape over her neck and chest, leaving behind scorching wet kisses. Or perhaps those were marks reddening her skin, she didn’t particularly care.

He gripped her waist, thrusting upwards as she held onto him tighter. Her nails drew half-moons into his back and she bit his neck, the fibres of the carpet scratching her knees.

The lights in the flat fluttered momentarily.

His fingers increased the pressure on her clit as his thrusts grew in intensity with one purpose in mind.

She bit her lip, trying to hold back, to prolong this instant of pure bliss before she inevitably plummeted onto the other side.

She arched her back, moving accordingly to his rhythm, her hips bucking erratic as she rubbed against his pelvis.

And then she fell down, unrestrained, her walls closing around him as she moaned uncontrollably. He didn’t stop, drawing circles on her sensitive skin until her breath found a semblance of steadiness again.

“You did so good,” he whispered against her forehead, brushing a strand of sweaty hair away.

She slumped against him, her hands grabbing onto his biceps as he chased his own pleasure, his movements turning frantic, losing his rhythm.

She found herself murmuring against his skin the same things she had never had the courage to say out loud, not even to herself. She wasn’t sure he was even listening to her, engrossed as he was, but it didn’t matter.

He squeezed her tights once and she understood, rolling to the side as he deftly touched himself, fast strokes that culminated in white spurts all over his hand. She watched him mesmerised

He turned to look at her, his chest rising and falling rapidly. The fire casted shadows on his gorgeous face.

They stayed like that for a long moment, gazing into each other, trying to guess what the other was thinking, making sense of what remained of themselves after what had just happened.

Did it have the same momentous effect on both of them? Or was it just her that knew she couldn’t go back to being acquaintances after this?

“Do you want to stay here tonight?” she asked. Her voice sounded faint and husky to her own ears.

“I do,” he replied without a second of hesitation.

They didn’t get up, instead resting against the foot of her sofa. She curled up against him as his hand traced indistinct patterns on her skin, remaining in this haze of indiscernible unspoken feelings they were both still trying to find a name for.

When she woke up the next morning he was gone. As she took in the cold sheets and missing clothes, her heart threatened to crack.

She got up groggily, conclusions already forming in her mind, building the most pessimistic of pictures.

She felt anxious as she wore her robe and opened the door, heading straight for the bathroom. Halfway down the corridor, the sound of someone flipping through a newspaper halted her in her steps.

She stepped into the kitchen, finding Tom sitting in a chair with his legs crossed.

“Good morning,” he said.

“Good morning,” she said back, adjusting the belt of her robe.

She noticed he had made breakfast, a steaming coffee pot, kept warm by magic, and some pastries she had never bought waiting for her on the table.

She turned to take a mug from a cabinet so that she could hide her smitten smile. When she closed the cabinet, she found him looking at her.

There was no need for words.

“Where did you get that?” she asked as she poured herself some coffee, referring to the newspaper.

“I stole it from your neighbour, I hope she won’t mind.”

She laughed. “So you know how to make a joke.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

She sat next to him, crossing her legs. She perhaps needed to rethink her choice of slippers.

“You were always so serious growing up.”

She put a spoonful of sugar in her coffee.

“That never seemed to deter you.”

“It doesn’t.”

He took a sip of his own coffee. “Good.”

“Does it deter you, knowing how I feel?”

He blinked. “It never had. It makes it more interesting if I have to be honest.”

She blushed, scared to ask the next question.

“How long have you known?”

He got up, brushing his knuckles on her cheek.

“Long enough to see you for who you truly are.”

He bent to give her a chaste kiss. “I should go, the shop opens in half an hour.”

He put on his coat and grabbed his leather gloves from his pocket. She turned in her chair, treasuring the last few moments of him in her apartment.

“There’s still a lot you haven’t learned yet.”

She refused to be an open book to him. There was so much about her that was still incomprehensible even to her and too much she wanted to show him on her own terms. She wanted to be enigmatic, to drive him mad.

“I know.”

Her disappointment was visible on her face as she was met with his silence. She had wanted to continue that conversation, to learn what he had observed.

Instead he opened her front door, throwing her one last glance, heavy with unsaid intention she hoped she wasn’t imagining, before leaving.

She had almost finished her breakfast when she noticed a small note under the newspaper he had left behind. She grabbed it faster than she was willing to admit, almost knocking over her cup in the process, and unfolded it.

“Dinner tonight?

I’ll pick you up at eight.

T.R.”

the last part is a bonus scene i wanted to write to apologize for my tardiness. tom is a little different, but I hope he isn't too out of character.

i honestly had so much fun writing this short story and exploring a different tom from the one i usually read and write about. i hope you enjoyed this and thank you for reading!

#tom riddle x fmc #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle #tom riddle fic #tom riddle fanfic #tom riddle fanfiction #tom riddle smut #tom marvolo riddle #harry potter #hp fanfic #tom riddle x oc

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alicerosejensen · 6 months

Text

Find me

Warning: mention of blood, violence (physical and psychological), mention of viruses, parasites, zombies; kidnapping; the reader has a slight anemia; Fem/reader; established relationship with Leon.

Synopsis: You could have a quiet wedding and a good life with the person you love most in the world. Leon was ready to protect you to the death from his enemies and viruses but… it seems that someone is also interested in you. And the price for life will be very high.

A/N: The idea from this post that I wrote about quite a long time ago. "Together forever" I'm not very good at writing (apparently the Yandere theme is not mine, no matter how much I like it). So I'm going to try this plot. I don't know how many parts there will be, but if everything goes well, then probably a lot (maybe 10-12 or so). I hope someone likes it because I have serious notes on this work in my notebook, as if these are sketches for the 9th part of the resident).

Tags will be added to the following parts. I was very much inspired by the remaster and Haunting ground when I was taking notes. After all, both games were made by Capcom.

Feedback is welcome (but no insults!)

Sometimes the worst horror happens in the name of love. It's not the worst plot for books, films or paintings that are more than a hundred years old and it's impossible not to admit that sometimes we want to be loved until our death.

And maybe after it.

The words sound soft, with a slight taste of regret, as if somewhere between the letters there is a treacherous "I'm sorry". But in fact it was so predictable. Leon hugs you too tightly, experiencing an inexhaustible sense of guilt, because he promised to decide together where you will spend your honeymoon, which is unlikely to last exactly a month, he promised to watch a movie with you that you have been planning for a long time and… and everything went to hell.

Leon nuzzles your cheek and devoutly kisses you gently, leaving a wet trail with his eyes closed. Another sign of his eternal love, his lips are imprinted on the bridge of your nose, making you smile from the slight tickle caused by his stubble. He had no power over not being called to work for at least another week, but the government is not interested in the personal life of his best agent. And yet you enjoy the way he puts his arm around your waist, holding you as tightly as he can.

"Okay, Mr. Kennedy," you joke kindly, inhaling the almost faded scent of his cologne. "I forgive you, once again. Run to save the world" You smile looking into his crystal blue eyes filled with sadness and longing.

"I promise that I will ask the authorities for a good vacation," Leon swears very sensually, continuing to hold you tightly in his hands and look with those puppy eyes from which the soul is torn apart and kisses again this time on the forehead, "If necessary, I will harness Ingrit and no one will bother us. We'll plan everything the way you want, even if it's a tour of all the castles in Europe"

You laugh sincerely, removing the bangs from his face, hoping to stretch the moment of intimacy with him longer. It was so warm and safe next to him that you snuggled up to his chest and he gently cradled you in his arms like a child.

"Don't do anything stupid in my absence"

"I still need to do an exhibition and maybe I'll finally clean up the bookcase," you lie knowing full well that the books will still lie randomly on the shelves and you won't even touch them. Actually, your work was the only thing that could save you from the all-consuming longing for Leon.

"Be careful, okay?" with some hidden fear, he asks, reluctantly releasing you from the ring of embraces. "I'll call as soon as I get a free minute and I'll really be back soon"

Leon is already out on the street and you follow him with a sad look, noticing some dark car to the side. Rightly deciding that they came for him, you lower your head, sighing heavily and literally taken aback when Leon's lips abruptly cover yours with a demanding and somewhat rude kiss that you forget how to breathe. At some point you try to seize the initiative, but strong hands push you against the wall and you hit the back of your head a little painfully, allowing him to dominate. As always.

"I would eat you right here," Leon said sarcastically and quietly stroking your hips, "But I really have to go."

And you silently bite your lower lip while watching him move away from you and get on his bike.

Well, that cool car wasn't for him, but this thought quickly leaves your head and in the end, tired of standing on the street, you just go back into the house, closing the door, grabbing the phone and immediately sending him an impatient "I miss you already." However, this does not prevent you from also ordering food with home delivery and watching some movie to pass the evening that was hopelessly spoiled.

The evening really became disgusting, neither delicious food saved him, nor a good movie will save him.

"Complete shit" a quiet curse came off your lips when you looked at the phone screen for the hundredth time in the evening and endlessly reread Leon's last message "My love…" which seems to have been imbued with such despair that tears came to your eyes. He was like a big kid who couldn't live a day without you and besides, only with you his sleep was like a more or less healthy one. You were his only light and he wanted that light to stay with him forever. Well, you could send him a hundred more messages, but it's unlikely that he will have the opportunity to read them in the next few hours or even days. So with bitterness, you just turned off the TV and went to the bathroom to get ready for an earlier than usual sleep.

Hot water pleasantly calmed and warmed the skin flowing down the body. You spent 15 minutes in the shower, brushing your teeth and doing all the usual and favorite cosmetic procedures, smeared your body with a lotion with a pleasant floral scent, waiting for it to soak into pale skin. The mood even improved a little when you changed into pajamas and straightened the bed once more before putting your head on the pillow and looking at the phone.

Nothing.

There's no point blaming Leon or doubting his love. It wasn't up to him. Sometimes he was dragged out of bed late at night and you could not see him for weeks without even being able to talk on the phone for one minute. But when he returned, he turned into a puppy clinging to his beloved owner and covered your body with a lot of kisses, not letting you get out of bed. Not that you mind… You always miss him and worry about him.

Sighing, you turn over on your side, putting the phone on the bedside table and not seeing the desired message from your fiance. Therefore, grabbing Leon's pillow, the lungs are filled with his smell and instead of feeling his presence, you experience only a deep feeling tearing apart that makes your heart beat a little faster.

And closing your eyes, you reach for the switch, when suddenly for a second the phone quickly notifies you of a new message from the addressee next to whose name the heart turns red.

"Don't forget to take the pills that the doctor prescribed for you. I want this sickly pallor to disappear. Love you"

Well, smiling, you took a screenshot of the message for some reason, saving it in your gallery on your phone. After sending Leon the answer, you still remembered that you really forgot about those pills once again, but you didn't want to get up anymore, so you left this matter for the morning. Sighing once again, trying his luck in the hope that Leon would write something else, your mobile was treacherously silent while you were just flipping through the social media feed.networks thinking only about how dependent you are on this man. However, the same can be said about him. The phone went out, as did the light in the bedroom, and sleep slowly overtook your mind when you hugged else's pillow without hearing quiet footsteps in the next room. The uninvited guest, thanks to Leon, had to tinker a lot with the lock of the front door before he unlocked it, quietly closing it behind him so as not to attract your attention while you were in the shower. Merging with the surrounding darkness, it was necessary to wait for the right time and prepare the syringe so that everything went as it should and the target was quietly neutralized without attracting the attention of neighbors.

The order was well paid and the fact that Leon left the house on that day was only to his advantage. After all, a government agent can ruin everything and getting rid of him threatened big problems that were not needed by anyone, but who will remember about his pretty bride, about whom he will probably quickly forget everything himself? The unknown person only needed to stick a pomeranian, inject the substance and quietly take the target out of the house by throwing a fake note with a handwriting similar to yours that you and Leon do not see the future for yourself. Pick up a few personal items and throw them in the nearest trash as proof of the truthful departure of the unfaithful bride.

Not the worst plan, especially since Leon Kennedy will think about your disappearance and how natural it is, no one really cares. Even if he suspects this ill-conceived plan, by that time you will be too far away from here anyway.

The problem was solved by itself because you are a simple art worker did not pose any threat even if you tried to resist. One step, two… the blessed victim will not suspect anything until the very moment when someone else's hand in a black glove closes her mouth and sticks a needle into her body. You fall asleep without suspecting anything, somehow reflexively reaching to the left side where Leon usually sleeps with his back to the bedroom door.

You are separated by literally a few meters from each other before one inept movement spoils everything.

The sound of falling books that Leon has been asking you to arrange exactly for so long makes you open your eyes by squeezing the pillowcase of the pillow and the "guest" freeze without touching the door handle. However, you felt a gaze on you that did not let you be deceived that someone had entered the house.

In Leon's bedside table there is a 9mm pistol fully loaded. It's not that you were very accurate, but Leon took you to a place as entertainment, where you trained shooting at targets under the watchful eye.

"not the worst result for a beginner," he said condescendingly so as not to upset you, but it was fun even if the gun was real.

Except now there are no jokes! You heard another step towards your side and held your breath, gathering strength for a jerk to pull out the gun and remove it from the safety. From fear, the heart beat faster, causing the blood to roar in your ears and before the intruder's hand landed on your face, you abruptly rolled to the left side of the bed, throwing a pillow at the person standing over you, winning for yourself a couple of seconds from his confusion.

Jumping to your feet, you quickly grabbed the gun pointing it at the man with trembling hands, removing it from the safety.

"Your own life is more expensive," you thought when a man of impressive size in a mask stood a meter away from you without a weapon, because his goal is to deliver you alive because you will not be of any use dead.

You held his floor at gunpoint, but your hands were shaking from the unusual weight and you really wanted to lower them down, but you held on trying not to panic. A step towards you and you pulled the trigger without aiming so stupidly hitting the closet, startled by the loud noise of the shot, immediately shrinking and from unaccustomed frightened by the strong recoil of the weapon.

"Fuck," he swore loudly, immediately rushing to you, forcing you to scream at the top of your voice while miraculously dodging. Rushing to the door, the first thought was to run outside and ask for help from neighbors, especially since the sound of a gunshot and a woman's scream certainly did not go unnoticed and someone probably should have already called the police. We just need to hold out. However, you only managed to jump out into the corridor when suddenly a strong man's hand roughly grabbed you by the hand in which you were holding a gun and your finger pressed the hook again making a shot.

Again a loud noise, your screams and a small hole in the ceiling.

Again the bullet flew by.

"Get off me, you bastard!"

A ringing slap in the face and you abruptly fell to the floor dropping the gun somewhere to the side. He immediately hung over you, but grabbing the first book that came to hand, you threw it in her man's face and taking advantage of another hitch jumped to her feet, running on without thinking about how much lip hurts.

And yet, the chances of escape were initially small, especially when shortness of breath began due to anemia and the chest began to ache sharply. A deep breath did not help even if your body was filled with adrenaline, he still knocked you to the floor, pressing your whole body to the floor, taking that ill-fated syringe out of your pocket and sticking it into you by quickly pressing the plunger . It only takes a few minutes, but because of your screams and shots, even they could put the entire mission under the "failed" icon, so without wasting even these precious minutes, the kidnapper grabs you by the hair and just hits your head on the floor suppressing resistance at the root. The world before your eyes becomes hazy and barely audible when a strange and unusual feeling of lightness covers you despite the pain in your head.

"Bitch ruined everything"

This bastard threw you over his shoulder and quickly ran out of the house, leaving the syringe lying there on the floor because there was no more time. Throwing you carelessly like a sack into the backseat, he slammed the door and gave gas to get away from the crime scene as soon as possible and dump the tail by moving to another car. They'll pay him well anyway.

You only blurred vision being on the verge of consciousness silently watched your loss until a long sleep covered you.

#leon kennedy #leon scott kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #resident evil #resident evil x reader #leon kennedy x you #reader #leon resident evil #resident evil leon #leon kennedy resident evil #leon s kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x fem!reader #leon scott kennedy x reader

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residenthughes · 1 year

Text

once bitten, twice shy

pairing: leon kennedy x gender neutral reader

word count: 3.8k (yippee!)

tags/warnings: college/university au, fluff, mentions of vomit/sick and alcohol

summary: house parties can be a strange place. they can be even stranger when you're about to throw up and have to argue to use the bathroom with a certain blue eyed, blonde haired boy too.

notes: my baby! so glad to have finished this! <3 i started writing this pretty much after my last fic (which received so much love, thank you so so much 💗) and finally came together after i went out myself, hehe. have deadlines/exams coming up soon so i'm not particularly sure how much i'll be posting on here until mid june, so mayhaps consider this a gift for not posting then? 🥹 haha, love u all and hope u enjoy!

You enjoyed a good night out once in a while. Your friends and yourself dressed to the nines as you dance the night away with liquor tainted lips and all the freedom in the palm of your hand. It was a great escape from the pressures of endless coursework and constant group meetings. You enjoyed a good house party, too. However, you hadn’t had much luck with those ones. Despite the smaller crowd it drew, the handful of new faces had you anxiously gulping away at your alcohol, ultimately leading to cringe-worthy videos your friends would show you the next day. Based on this, you should have known better - should have politely declined when your friends suggested attending her classmates’ house party and spent the night maybe regretting it. In spite of the myriad of reasons, the past week had been dreadful beyond words and it was an opportunity to wear your latest going out outfit. It was near impossible to say no.

So, here you are. Having the time of your life with friends, dancing under blue flickering lights and letting the night take you away. Well - that’s what you were doing. What you are doing now is desperately trying to find the toilet - your stomach was already uneasy due to the nerves of meeting new people at the party, so you’re sure the sugary drinks added to the alcohol in your system didn’t help either. You felt queasy and an urgent need to relieve yourself, still to no avail. The downstairs bathroom was occupied, so with the sickly feeling travelling up your system, you barge through the mob of people littering the hallways, hand over your mouth in a futile attempt to keep whatever was coming up down.

At the end of the upstairs hallway, your friend’s classmate explained there was an additional bathroom. You’ve never been more relieved to see anything more in your life. Without knowing it, you’re making a mad dash for it, bumping shoulders and mumbling a thousand sorrys. You’re a sight for sore eyes, you know you are, but with the pressing urge to not have witnesses to your untimely projectile vomiting, you really couldn’t give a damn.

You’re so happy to have found the bathroom, even if it may have also been occupied that your eyes miss another figure aiming for the room too. It’s only when your hand reaches for the doorknob that it’s shielded by another hand. Large and comforting. Your eyes search for the source.

Amidst the darkness that permeates the hallways, the blue mood lights provide glimpses into the mystery of the shadowy figure with gentle hands. His face, ivory in colour, is all slopes, features sharp and striking. His cerulean blue eyes framed by the length of his long eyelashes and dirty blond hair makes your heart stutter messily in your chest. For a split second, there is nothing you can do but stare in awe, the tall tales of infatuation spinning your head dizzy.

“Shit, did you wanna go first?” His voice sounds like a siren, sweet and melodic all at once.

With the countless thoughts zooming through your brain, you’re certain any words that would filter through your lips would be nothing except incoherent mumbles. You settle for a nod.

“Uh, hate to break it to you sweetheart, but I needa go too.” His hand is still over yours and if not for the terrible rumble in your stomach, it would have been swept off your feet, along with the sickeningly sweet pet name he gives you.

“Maybe try downstairs? I’m sure it’ll be free soon.” This is the first time you’ve spoken during your brief conversation. The quick raise of the handsome stranger’s eyebrows encourages sheepishness to gnaw at your skin, the pink hues of your cheeks deepening.

“Ocupado, ‘m afraid.” he grins with a sliver of teeth, facial expression moulding into the awkwardness that starts to circle itself around the two of you.

Your hand turns the doorknob faintly and you catch the desperation that flashes in his eyes at your actions. If you weren’t about to soil your new top with stomach acid, you would’ve let him go first, bashful as ever as you hoped you would find him later on in the night whilst hoping he’d spare you another glance. Nevertheless, that was not the case.

“I’m sorry but,” you gulp, trying to keep whatever was coming up back down. “I really, really, really need to go, so…”

He’s stubborn. Stubborn as an ass apparently, because his hand still remains on yours. “Of course, but equally, I need to go as well. Surely, there’s like a sink or something I can go in. I’m really desperate.”

You can’t help as you wrinkle your nose, your patience wearing thin. You literally have to be sick. Why is this not being addressed? “Can’t you just pee outside? Guys do that all the time, don’t they?”

“I’m not an animal, you know.” the handsome stranger argues, and your eye twitches.

How did you end up arguing with a good-looking guy outside a bathroom at a house party?

“I’m not being funny, but if you don’t move, I will throw up all over you.”

“I’ve been meaning to go for an hour now. Can’t we make some sort of compromise?”

You were at your wits end. “As if, you fucking masochist! I’m going first!”

And you do, barging into the blindingly white room with all your might and making a beeline for the toilet. A heavy sigh sounds behind you as you heave into the toilet, bracing yourself for the ugly sight that’ll swim before you.

You hear a zip being undone and the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. “Surely, you’re not…?”

“I told you I needed to go.” the voice comes from the shower beside you. The world spins. House parties fucking suck.

You opt to fully exit your bitter discussion, focusing on ugly turns in your stomach. Your hair circles your face and you curse yourself for not having tied it up beforehand because obviously, it was going to–

It flows out of you. Swiftly and without much difficulty. You lunge forwards into the toilet bowl as the vomit empties out of you whilst the shower runs briefly, followed by the sink.

You just wanna go home.

“Hey,” the call for your attention is docile, the boy’s voice more sympathetic now. “You got a hair tie on ya?”

At this point, you’re on your knees, throwing up your early dinner in front of a boy you bad mouthed because you both wanted to use the bathroom at the same time. There’s no point in being shy now. You want all the help you can get.

You manage to shimmy the hair tie off your wrist and hand it towards his vague direction. For how unacquainted you two are, you move in great harmony as the boy grabs the hair tie and captures all your hair with ease whilst you busy yourself with other pressing issues.

When he’s finished, hair away from your face and in a low ponytail, the warmth of his hand settles against your back. The tears brimming in your eyes fall into the toilet bowl, body still before slow caresses have you melting into the palm of his hand.

“I…I know one of the guys that lives here,” he volunteers, tone unsure. “I’m sure he won’t mind you using one of his spare toothbrushes underneath the sink.”

You only manage back a groan, the icky feeling of humiliation creeping up on you as you continue to exhale into the toilet bowl.

“I’ll be back.”

And the man who peed in the shower leaves. Ok, that was rude of you, he did just help you when you were vomiting in spite of not knowing you. You should have more compassion for him, instead of lashing out at him out of embarrassment. When he gets back, you should thank him for all his help and hope to never see him again. You didn’t think you could live comfortably with yourself if you ever saw him again.

The faint thumps of typical party hits hammer beyond the bathroom, pouring in briefly when the man comes back into the room. By this point, your stomach has settled and you’ve flushed the toilet, yet your head still remains somewhat in the toilet because you couldn’t bear to come face-to-face with the guilt wrapped up in the form of a handsome, kind stranger.

“He said it’s cool, just open the new pack in the grey caddy.” You hear joints crack besides you before there’s a pat on your back. The comfort it brings is enough for you to swallow your pride. “Also, there’s some water next to you. Figured you wouldn’t want to go looking for it.”

Regardless of the ever growing shame that wants to drown you into a sad shell of yourself, your heart swells. The unprompted kindness offered from the stranger is refreshing, you wish you could tell him how grateful you are for him without your shame keeping your head in the toilet bowl.

“I’m sorry,” you breathe, wincing at the cringing sensations that course through your body. “Sorry for calling you a masochist earlier.”

He huffs out a bout of laughter and your heart feels lighter. “In all fairness, I was pretty crazy for holding it for that long, so I don’t blame you.”

You hated how you’d have to avoid this man after you two left this room. He was sweet, polite and made you laugh. Why did you have to meet under such ugly conditions?

“Thank you,” you exhale, feeling your heart bloom with the warmth he radiates. “Really.”

“No prob,” he lifts his hand off your back and suddenly, you’re cold again. “I’ll leave you to it. If you need me, I’ll be in the kitchen. If not, probably fucking it up on the dancefloor.”

You mumble another thank you after the laughter that leaves your lips, the blue-eyed stranger exiting and leaving you to clean yourself up as ponder on his kindness for a little longer than necessary.

You manage to sneak past the kitchen without bumping into the kind stranger. If you weren’t embarrassed before, the embarrassment catches up with you now. Outside, where the cool October wind blows, you’re perched on a step of the back porch, curled into yourself as you breathe in and breathe out. Things could have been a lot worse. You could have thrown up all yourself, delirious and none the wiser as nasty spirited individuals videoed the spectacle, not intervening even once. You could have been in a worse state in front of the stranger, vomit embedded in your hair as you wailed to call your friends or to go home. It could have been so much worse, yet here you are, rocking away as you will yourself not to cry.

You blame it on the emotional turmoil that’s plagued your week. Your academic and interpersonal affairs bore a burden like never before, pushing you beyond your means countless times this week and eventually, as you self soothe in solitude, you succumb to their will. Your friends are worried sick, searching every inch of the unfathomably large house to find you. You shoot them a text, notifying them of your safety and the privacy you seek. With dozens of texts that express reassurance, you let out a sigh before the music playing inside is too good for you to ignore.

Call it foolish, but it’s the nostalgic sounds of 00s’ dance that help you pick up the pieces. Assist in the carefree attitude you adopt that leads you right back inside, finding your friends and changing the course of the night.

If only you knew your carefree attitude would have you right where you once were. Face to face with the handsome stranger, the ends of an empty beer bottle pointed towards you two as bystanders ooh and ahh.

“Get in there, Leon!” a friend - you assume - hollers, slurring his words as he lazily drapes against Leon’s rigid frame.

You two exchange a look, eyes seeking any kind of communication that would hint at what the future held.

Your hand is given a squeeze and suddenly one of your friend’s whispers into your ear. “He’s cute, go for it.”

You crimson. At her words and at the fact that your next encounter with Leon has come so soon. Relentless is the sensation of dread and cringe as it sinks into your bones and buries you into the ground. All eyes are on you and you want nothing more but cringe? Disappear? Run away? There’s so much going on in your head right now.

A hand is outreached. It’s as if a lifeforce beyond yours comes down to save you, extending their hand to sail you away to safety. Alias, it is nothing but a figment of your imagination as you peer up, eyes sparkling as Leon’s tall figure towers over yours. For a second, you can’t read his facial expression, can’t comprehend the logistics of your predicament. However, when the edge of his lips curl upwards, pleasant and mellow in nature, there’s a sense of relief that starts to wash over you.

“Ready if you are.”

He has a way with words. He must have. Otherwise you wouldn’t have felt so comforted on that bathroom floor, otherwise you wouldn’t be in some confined closet, little to no light with the same person you threw up in front of.

“Well,” he starts off after a minute or two of silence. “This is…”

“Awkward.”

A cough is followed by silence. Then laughter.

Out of all the people at this party, the universe had to fabricate yet another meeting with Leon. The guy who you basically cussed out in order to use the bathroom. The same man that after washing his hands, held your hair up for you and soothed your sickness with a gentle back rub. There is nothing more you want to do right now than crawl out of your skin.

“You feeling a bit better now?” Leon’s voice is hushed when he talks to you, gentle and filled with unexpected care.

Despite the awkwardness of your situation, you can’t help disregarding such lame state of feeling as you lean into his kindness. “Yeah, I had a bit more water and was outside for a bit, so I’m pretty much sober now.”

Your fingernails dig into the flesh of your palm. A nervous tic. “Thank you. And, sorry.”

Leon appears to relax into the flow of conversation, moving his body to lean against the wall of the compact closet you find yourselves in. As he shuffles, notes of smoky vanilla waft in the air, Leon’s cologne finding its way to you. The smile you hide behind a closed fist is all kinds of bashful, body drawn to the intoxicating nature of the fragrance.

“I wasn’t terribly nice to you either, so think of it as making amends,” his hand extends forwards, bridging the gap between the two of you. “Truce?”

Amusement tugs at the ends of your lips, humoured by the hints of unseriousness that seems to be a recurring theme in your story. Going from badmouthing one another to being shoved into a tiny closet for Seven Minutes in Heaven and forced to call truce. It’s the kind of bizarre story that hangs in the air after a night out, disgustingly hungover in bed as your friends jam into someone’s room and recall the night’s events.

“Truce.”

You shake on it, pulling away when the flutter of your heart tickles your chest.

Through the dim sliver of marmalade orange light that peeks through the bottom gap of the door, you catch glimpses of Leon. The sharp slants of his jaw, the heavy flutter of his eyelashes, the sheepishness of his smile - all lopsided and accompanied the hues of strawberry jam red. He’s trying his best and it’s endearing. As is he. Charming and caring, a little silly yet undeniably sweet. Perhaps your perspective on him is a bit skewed due to the remnants of alcohol that float in your system, but if you happened across the same dirty blond, blue eyed boy on campus, you know your heart would still beat the same.

“Three minutes!” Someone yells beyond the door, prompting an uptake in your breath.

Never too forward, Leon draws closer to you, hands to himself as he suggests, “We could just head back out, if you’d like. I’m sure they’re not gonna be too up their asses about it.”

You don’t miss a beat. “I don’t want to.”

You’re both caught off guard. Your eyes widened and Leon’s eyebrow raised. It’s as if you’ve been exposed, barenaked for all the world to see your secrets. In itself, your response isn’t the strangest. Anyone would assume after calling truce, your allocated time meant to be spent together could foster the beginnings of a friendship, a friendly conversation. Even so, Leon and yourself were getting ahead of yourselves - reading in between the lines, sifting for something that was there.

“I mean,” the wardrobe is suddenly indescribably small, the surface of your cheeks warming as your eyes dart all over the place. What is going on here? “We could always just talk or…”

“Or what?”

Leon’s being mean. He knows he is. But, he can’t help himself. Jumping the gun, clawing at any and every opportunity to be close to you. Leon spotted your figure earlier during the course of the night, eyes capturing the shimmer in your eyes and bounce of your hair as you happily twirled your friends around on the dancefloor. You were simply magnetic, doused in dazzle and delight as your glittery makeup highlighted your timeless beauty. Leon would’ve approached you, winning you over with his charm and foolish dance moves - but he needed a drink. A drink which became two, two which became three and ultimately he broke the seal, landing him on a collision course with you outside the bathroom.

This isn’t how he imagined meeting you.

Nevertheless, you were together and despite the not-so-great circumstances presented, Leon made the best of it. Helping you and being the gentleman he is. And even if you never saw each other again, he would still remember you for all the shimmer in your eyes and just how infectious your smile was.

Now, under more favourable conditions, he doesn’t want his time with you to end. You’re just as captivating up close, if not more. Timid yet so sweet. Leon gets lost in you - lost in the details of your hair, your voice, your eyes. He wonders if the longer he prolongs your conversation, the sooner you’ll see his attraction towards you. Hopes you’ll reciprocate, hopes you’ll see it too.

“I don’t know.” You settle for, casting your eyes away from Leon as you twiddle your thumbs.

You want to be close with Leon, maybe kiss him if you could. But, you just don’t know. He’s seen you at your worst, sick in the toilet without a thought behind your eyes. You’re still embarrassed - even if Leon makes good work of fending that off. And perhaps because of that, along with other complexities, you want to be close with him.

If only he’d let you.

There’s a huff of frustration before something knocks your shoe. You look, examining Leon’s tired Converse shoe that nestles against your own pair of shoes. Your heart stills.

“I saw you earlier,” he starts, standing tall as he inches closer towards you. His pools of blue know only the sight of your lips, pink in hue and supple with lipgloss. He briefly looks away for his own good. “You looked really good on the dance floor.”

The gravity of your current reality settles in quick. Leon’s with you. Initiating everything and bringing this whole charade to a close. Your instinct is to wrestle with the reasons why, question his intentions and ultimately, take a step back. But, you’re exhausted. You’ve done enough mental gymnastics to last you a lifetime. You know you want this, so why can’t you have it? The answer is clear now. You take the plunge, hands grasping onto his backarm as you test the waters. “You think so?”

You’re gazing into each other’s eyes now, nowhere to run or hide. Leon hums in response yet still searches for something in your eyes - a glimmer of hope, confirmation to proceed and gets it in the form of you leaning into him with the bat of your eyelashes. His arms circle your waist, hesitant at first but solid in their place on the small of your back. You’re already seeing stars.

“Leon?” your voice is barely above a whisper, forehead pressed against Leon’s as you grow impatient.

He hums in reply. “Can we? Can we-”

“Can we kiss?” he says this, lips brushing up against yours. You grip his broad shoulder extra hard incase you buckle at the knees.

“Please,” you only manage to get out before your lips connect.

Leon shows you just how much he wants this, how much he wants you in his kisses. Gentle yet firm in his desire, his lips envelope yours in a way that sets your heart ablaze. Your brain short circuits, the sparks soaring between the two of you insatiable as you melt into each other. Your hand falls to brace yourself against Leon’s chest, the accelerated patter of his heart vibrating against your palm. You can’t help the smile that blends into your kiss, opening an invitation for Leon’s tongue that glides against the flesh of your bottom lip.

“Time’s up!”

His teeth plunge into your bottom lip lightly. You separate with a whine.

There’s a moment before the door opens, time where your eyes scan over Leon to gather all your thoughts and take him in. His pupils are full blown, his arctic blue irises submerged in the dilation of his pupils, lips plump with need and breath laboured. He looks far away, as if he is immersed in a dream that’s too good to be true and judging by the smile that graces his face, you’re sure you look the same.

“Need a mint?” Leon’s all jokes, smile giddy and besotted.

You roll your eyes in response, playfully jabbing his hard bicep with a closed fist. “Says the one who stuck his tongue down my throat.”

“Guilty as charged,” he holds his hands up in surrender, eyes giving you their undivided attention. “Wouldn’t mind doing that again though.”

He punctuates his point with circling his arm around your waist, drawing you in close before placing a delicate kiss against the flushed skin of your cheeks. It’s shameful how much you like this guy already.

“You’re disgusting.”

The door opens and you leave the closet happier than you ever were before.

#resident evil 4 remake #resident evil 4 #resident evil 4 fanfic #resident evil fanfic #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy fanfic #leon kennedy imagine #re4r #re2 remake #re2 leon #leon kennedy fluff #resident evil fluff #leon s kennedy imagine #my fics

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kerokerokook · 5 months

Text

the rebound girl: chapter three

pairing: nerd pro-gamer jeongguk x reader

word count: 20.7k

a/n: so sorry for not updating for like almost two months atp. had some personal stuff and with genocide that is happening in gaza, i personally felt like it wasn't appropriate for me to post. please continue to support in any way you can whether that's with uplifting voices, going to protests, boycotting and donating. the smallest action can make a difference.

just a heads up, i won't keep a update schedule which i apologize for but i will do my best to be consistent :)

also i write this authors note, the golden concert finished and we got the enlistment notice for vminkookjoon. it's fine everything is fine they sooner they leave the sooner they come back hahaha :( (i'm crying as we speak)

warnings for this chapter: kissing, lots of ass grabbing, oc is down baaaaad, and so is jk tbh, oral (fem and male receiving), two orgasms for you, 69 position, some very light spanking and praise. jk drinks it like water. some slight dom/sub undertones (jk is a switch but not in this chapter :o)

other tags: a good chunk of angst, slut shaming, spreading of fake rumors, finally oc backstory on the nickname!!, mentions of marijuana, jeongguk asks the girls how to eat cat 8-) and he is once again green flag obvi

fic masterlist

song for chapter: seven by jungkook ft. latto and slut! by taylor swift

enjoy!

-mal <3

You wake up surrounded by warmth. The streams of sunlight coming in from your window thanks to your slightly parted curtains bathe your skin in gold, along with the thick duvet thrown over your body, and the thick arms wrapped around your waist.

For a second, you forget everything that happened last night.

The way you were panicking and how it escalated to kissing, touching, marking; how your lips wrapped around his thick and long length and how Jeongguk’s fingers pushed you past the edge. You can’t believe it. That one of your childhood best friends is lying in bed next to you right now. A man who made you feel so good that you want another taste.

You cringe at your thoughts. You’re really starting to sound like Mrs. Robinson right now.

Turning your body in his grasp, you face Jeongguk who has been hugging you from behind. His cheek is pressed into the soft pillow, puffed up a bit so his lips look extra pouty. His eyes are peacefully shut, body raising with his breath, and his shirt is all ruffled from him moving around so his collarbones are slightly exposed. You can see the marks you left on him, vibrant and pretty against his honey colored skin.

Without thinking, your hand picks up to gently glide over the surface. The skin feels the same but internally, you feel waves of smug, almost masculine, pride at the sight of them. As if you’ve branded the guy to be yours.

Your cup his right cheek, smoothing underneath his eye with your thumb. There’s a little tug with the thin skin, slightly sagging with a lack of sleep, but he looks so beautiful and peaceful like this. Jeongguk has amazing eyebrows; full, dark and perfectly shaped. You run your thumb over thick short hairs before pushing some of the hair messily strewn over his forehead out of the way. Strands silky and smelling of his shampoo.

As another finger goes to trace his earrings like the pieces of a wind chime, Jeongguk stirs. A soft whine barely leaves him before he’s tugging you closer so that your head is tucked into the crook of his neck.

His arms wind around you tightly, squeezing you just a bit and forcing a laugh out of you.

“Hey,” you call, feeling like a boa constrictor has coiled itself around you.

Jeongguk murmurs under his breath. “Five more minutes.”

“But I can’t breathe.”

“Figure it out.”

“Jeongguk,” you giggled, playing with a lock of dark hair that was all fluffy without a brush, tugging slightly to get him further out of sleep. “Cmon, you’re already half awake.”

There’s a fullness in your bladder. You need to pee and fix your hair and brush your teeth and make yourself look presentable before Jeongguk can actually take a good look at you. And breakfast too. You’re hungry.

“Which means I’m also half asleep.”

“Hmm but you’re responding in full sentences.”

“Ugh,” he rolls over and away from you, something you instantly regret. “Okay, fine. I’m awake.”

His hair is a birds nest on top of his head, sticking up all over the place, but a thought crosses your mind of Jeongguk with a perm. A perm and longer hair, framing his face in a shaggy 90s style, and your insides turn to mush.

Anything would probably suit him with a face like that.

And his body is absolute perfection. You get the urge to reach under the covers, under the fabric of his shirt and feel his stomach once more. Like you’re confirming the presence of steel cut abs and wide shoulders and squishable pecs.

“Sleep okay?” You ask him, turning on your side to watch his chest expand and recede with his breathing.

Jeongguk nods, rubbing one of his eyes. “Like a baby. You?” His head turns to face you and he’s got this dreamy, half-awake, smile on his lips that makes you melt.

“Same.”

You want to kiss his cheek and snuggle into the warmth of his chest. Jeongguk was so comfortable to sleep next to you and his body, while taut, is huggable like a giant teddy bear. He didn’t mind you clinging to him at first, slowly turning away when it got too hot or you wanted to change positions. It was honestly some of the best sleep you’ve gotten.

Carefully peeling the covers off, you stretch your arms up to crack all of the tightened areas.

“I’ll put out a disposable toothbrush for you and,” you turn around to find Jeongguk slowly sitting up, looking cute with your patterned sheets underneath him, “then we can talk about breakfast. Are you a savory or sweet kind of guy?”

Jeongguk’s eyes flutter upwards in thought, lips quirking to one side. “Hmmm, I usually have savory but I’ll try sweet.”

“Awesome. Waffles?”

“Hell yeah.”

The rest of your morning is pretty simple after that. Almost as if Jeongguk never slept over. You do your regular routine and leave the bathroom to him. You feed Snowball and give her as much attention and love as she desires. She’s chirpy in the morning and the minute Jeongguk emerges from the bathroom, you’re forgotten news.

She trots over to him, fluffy tail bouncing, and flops onto her side as Jeongguk pets her side and scratches her cheeks and under her neck.

You can’t help but stare at the scene with a warm gooey smile on your face. Jeongguk has always loved animals and seeing him interact with them is such a soft, sweet, beautiful moment.

Going back to the kitchen cabinets, you pull out your waffle maker and make a few with the batch you’ve prepared. Some with chocolate chips sprinkled inside. Knowing Jeongguk, you put out some chopped fruit, bacon, and make some fluffy eggs. You want him to be full and happy when he leaves.

Plus, you like doing stuff like this; cooking for people and making them happy. It’s fun.

Jeongguk strolls into the room, humming a song under his breath and pausing when he sees the spread you’ve put out for the two of you. Looking like a continental buffet at a hotel. Your head turns and you smile as he stares down at the steaming plates.

“Wait…I should’ve helped you. I’m sorry,” he pouts, twisting his fingers at the base of his stomach.

The stove is turned off when you walk closer to him. Droplets of water cascade down his neck and you can see the bright wine colored hickeys you left on him last night on his honey skin. The sight is delectable. You want to mark him again, mark him even more, but also don’t want to get too hasty with how much you touch him. It was a one-off after all.

You wave it off. “Let me do this for you,” chiding, you push him to take his plate over to the coffee table/desk thing you’ve got then grab yours. “Now let’s. Do you want coffee later?”

He shakes his head, hair swishing with his movements. “Trying to cut back on that. It’s worsening my anxiety.”

You pause. “I didn’t know you had anxiety.” The air sizzles in silence, the only noise cutting through being the sound of your plate hitting the surface of your table. Snowball chomps on the pellets of her food. Your backs collide with the edge of your bed, shoulders brushing, knees inches apart with your legs crossed over each other, and all you can smell is Jeongguk.

His cheeks get pinker, pursing his lips while starting on his food. “Yeah. I was diagnosed in high school. Working out helped a lot with it and same with gaming and sketching but the more I drink coffee, the more anxious I get.”

“Oh… I’m sorry.” You wilt next to him.

You know how bad it can get. You’ve seen your friends struggle with it, having attacks before a large test or getting fidgety in public spaces. It’s terrible.

“S’ok. I’m doing a lot better than before.” You watch out of the corner of your eye as Jeongguk eats. He’s nonchalant about it which calms you. “Taehyung tried to get me into smoking weed with him but I feel like that would worsen it.”

Snickering, you start eating too. The image of a relaxed Taehyung and a paranoid Jeongguk, when it’s usually the complete opposite, is sort of hilarious.

“Yeah,” you laugh. “Weed is either amazing for people with anxiety or it will literally give you a panic attack. Especially if you smoke too much.” Thinking back to your first year of college, when you decided to go crazy by smoking a joint and from a pipe and then from a bong, while in the middle of a forest on a camping trip.

Safe to say, you thought someone was going to come out of the bushes and beat your ass for smoking underage. Jeongyeon had to take you back to the dorms and help you calm down. It was bad.

But it was a learning lesson and you know to pace yourself with weed now. Unlike your friends, you don’t do it as often. It’s great when you’re plastered though or if you want to really enjoy a meal.

Jeongguk laughs with you. Then his eyes focus on something and you stop halfway when bringing the fork of food to your mouth. Raising an eyebrow in question, he just reaches over to tuck your hair out of face and behind your ear.

“You can say no but,” he exhales, fixating on the way your lips pout just a bit as you chew, “I really want to kiss you right now. Can I?”

Then your stomach flips.

He’s such a good guy, you think. You aren’t used to being around good guys.

Probably because deep down you think you’ll ruin them or you don’t deserve them but hey, you’re no therapist.

Jeongguk is too good. He’s too sweet and you just know that whatever brew of emotions that is bubbling up in you screams trouble but you simply can’t hold yourself back. Not when he looks this cute and soft and pretty in your room, asking politely to do your hair for you, eating the food you made him after a night of passion.

Swallowing whatever was in your mouth, you drop your fork on the plate and get up on your knees. Jeongguk’s reaction is comical. His eyes widen like he’s going to get yelled at, hands jumping to his sides but that is far from the truth.

Instead, you settle on his lap, wrists crossed behind his neck to toy with the back of his soft hair.

“Wh–did I–” he doesn’t even get to finish. You kiss Jeongguk briefly on the nose.

His eyes blink largely at you, bouncing down to your lips in a silent plea, and who are you to say no to someone like Jeongguk who asked so kindly? Leaning back down, gently connecting your lips with his in a soft slow kiss. He meets your movements, smooth lips kissing you back wetly while his hands move to your hips.

You don’t mean to get lost in the kiss but it’s quite hard. Jeongguk is really good at kissing and his body's so warm against yours. Pressing closer, you try to lick into his mouth to deepen the kiss but Jeongguk’s hands slip down and grip your ass harshly.

Gasping, you pull away. An unexpected action from him since he was so careful and gentle with you last night but you liked it.

The sheer thought of him getting rougher with you has you wet.

You decide to finally answer his question. “You can do whatever you want with me.”

“Whatever I want?” He teases back.

“Mhmm.”

Jeongguk pushes some hair out of your eyes. “Giving me all of that power is a bit dangerous, you know?” And even though he’s joking and you know that, you take it literally, wanting him to know this before he leaves.

Because it’s the wholehearted truth.

“I trust you, though. I trust you a lot.”

Jeongguk isn’t going to treat you like most of the men in your life. He won’t discard you for someone better, stringing you along with kind words just to get you to do what they want, and leave you broken hearted. He simply isn’t that kind of guy. He’s sweet and patient and attentive. The kind of guy you should be going after.

Sadly it’s taken you this long to realize it and this much hurt for you to change but it’s a start.

His eyes glimmer at you from your spot. You almost don’t want to get up because of how breathtaking his eyes look reflecting the stars hidden by the light.

“I know you won’t hurt me,” you continue, enamored. “So do what you want and if I don’t like it, I’ll tell you, okay?” Cupping his round, soft cheeks in your hands, you wait for nod. A slow, sure, steady one to cement this declaration right then and there.

Just as you lean down for another searing kiss, your phone starts blaring from your bed. The alarm you forgot to switch off. Fuck.

With a groan, you press the off button and your normal phone lock screen shows a notification from your mother. Still on Jeongguk’s lap, you press on it to read her text.

mom

stopping by in thirty

wanted to drop off some kimchi before i go back home

Fuck, you forgot. Your mom had an offsite trip for work in Incheon and before going back to your apartment, she wanted to give you some food for the weekend since your apartment was in between.

There’s no way she’ll let it slide that Jeongguk slept the night and your mom is no idiot. With all of the hickeys on his neck and the awkward we-wanna-fuck tension that is ever building between you two after last night’s taste, you’ll be getting grilled till you’re on your deathbed.

Quickly, you send her a thumbs up and toss your phone onto your bed, then look down at Jeongguk’s confused, cute face. “My mom is coming over in thirty minutes. Do you think we can finish by then?”

“F-finish what?”

You’re confused for a whole second until you remember you’re on his lap and you were just making out with him. A soft giggle leaves your lips before you press another kiss to his nose and a quick kiss to his pouty lips.

“Finish eating.” Finger trailing along the soft cut of Jeongguk’s jawline, flicking the hanging hoops in his ears. “Sorry baby, we’ll have to reschedule the other thing.”

The pet name flies out once more but you’re less upset about it. Jeongguk doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, his reddened ears tell you quite the opposite.

You try to get up once more but Jeongguk’s arms wind tightly around you. With a soft thud, your ass hits his lap again. He isn’t hard and his sweatpants are thicker than you remember it to be so you don’t feel anything. But the action still surprises you.

“You can still stay here and eat with me.” He demands petulantly. Big eyes, the roundest nose, cutest cheeks, and all of those moles scattered across his face like stars in the sky.

And how can you say no?

Breakfast is finished with you perched on his lap delicately, back against Jeongguk’s chest, while watching some random children’s cartoons that happened to be playing this early. It’s comfortable, almost intimate to be eating this close to each other and not have it be sexual. You had fully expected things to get raunchy today, especially when you were kissing, and usually when you stay over with a hookup, morning sex is promised.

Considering the extraneous variables, that can’t happen today, so you imagined Jeongguk would drop the closeness and go back to being platonic to you. Having him do the opposite is surprising.

You really like it.

Jeongguk’s chest is warm, broad, firm with muscle, and he smells like a mixture of his own scent and your skincare products. His arms fit snugly around you, like you can melt into his touch without another thought. You love the way he feels. So much so that tearing apart to let him leave is borderline painful.

Snowball has it especially rough. She rubs her head against Jeongguk’s calf, purring and trilling fyr him to stay and pet her when he’s posted by the door.

“I’ll be back soon. Don’t worry,” Jeongguk coos, tugging at her cheeks and smoothing over the area.

You want to cry at the visual.

The walk down is silent. Your keys jingle in your hands, shoes tapping on the linoleum floor, and Jeongguk doesn’t say much until the elevator takes the two of you to the lobby and outside your apartment building. It’s a slightly overcast day out. The sun peeks through the clouds and happens to land right on Jeongguk, illuminating him like an angel.

“So uh… I’ll see you on Monday, yeah?”

You nod slowly. “See you.”

Fuck it, you think, stepping off the platform leading into the lobby and wrapping Jeongguk in a quick hug. Arms around his neck, hugging him close to your body and giving him a firm squeeze.

Jeongguk returns it quickly, like a reflex. It’s soft, warm, and just what you needed before letting him go.

Just before your arms slip, you kiss the mole on his neck once, and slowly push off. You really don’t want to. You feel so safe whenever he touches you and smiles at you but you really don’t have any other choice.

“Bye noona.”

“Bye.”

Jeongguk’s departure is quick, waving bye as he crosses the street to get to the subway station further down the block. But you still feel the lingering ghost of his lips and touch on your skin. Almost like you’re savoring it for one more second.

And you’re so caught up that you don’t even notice the camera aimed at you that’s been snapping pictures for the past ten minutes.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

The day had been weird the moment your foot stepped onto campus.

Being the esteemed rebound girl meant that people looked at you. Mostly men but you still got glances, sexual ones or judgy ones or interested ones. Not that you’re bragging, you never warranted them in the first place as they always come with negative intentions, but the glances you were getting today felt different. People were whispering, more than usual, and it was starting to bother you.

The first thing you did was check to see if you were wearing pants. Which you were so we can count accidental nudity off the list.

Then you rushed to the bathroom to check if you accidentally sat on a chocolate bar or bled through your jeans or your bra is showing through your shirt or there’s a line of toilet paper stuck to your shoe.

It has to be a physical issue. Otherwise people would be reacting like this, right?

But you didn’t find anything on you. Not even a smudge of mascara.

It’s weird because you’re dressed rather simply. A black hoodie with some light wash jeans since you were in the middle of your period and didn’t want to deal with putting in effort today. What the fuck is everyone’s problem then?

Looking down, you walk as fast as you can from class to class, barely talking to anyone besides your friends and only if absolutely necessary. In between classes you have your earbuds in and you avoid any eye contact. Even during discussions, you sit in the back and draw in the margins, not even bothering to listen and contemplating leaving early. A group of girls that you recognize to be from Juri’s group are being especially nasty, giggling whenever you look in their general vicinity.

This is starting to get really annoying.

With a half a mind to ask them what’s so fucking funny, discussion ends early and you have a lunch date with the rest of your friends so you bolt out of there, slamming your lunch tray down on the table with much confusion from your two friends. You explain it to them while eating in hopes that they can crack the code too.

“Maybe they think you’re pretty,” Nayeon tries.

“I didn’t even put foundation on. I highly doubt they think I’m pretty,” you mumble the last bit, crossing your arms over the table and resting your forehead on them. “They’re laughing at me.”

Like a fly buzzing by your ear, their giggles irritate you beyond comprehension.

Embarrassing. That’s the best way to describe the surface of how you feel. Embarrassed and paranoid and scared because of how everyone seems to be in on a joke except for you.

For a second, you go back to the insecure teenager in high school who just wanted someone around. Who wanted love and affection and popularity because who fucking doesn’t at that age? Only for all of those popular cool kids to be making fun of you, laughing at your expense, and reminding you of everything you were insecure about. This feels just like that.

“Do you think Wooshik did something?”

You look up, scanning the cafeteria for a mop of black hair and he’s chilling with his new girl who he’s been absolutely obsessed with judging by his expression. He looks like he’s having the time of his life ever since you two ended your little spat.

Wooshik is petty but only when he’s been slighted. If he’s happy then he’s pretty harmless. So there’s no way it’s him.

“Nah. There has to be something else.” You start picking at the skin on the side of your thumb, where it’s gotten a bit dry thanks to the change in weather.

The cafeteria is loud today, more people opting to stay inside rather than walk around for a restaurant to eat at since it’s bound to start raining any time soon. It feels like millions of people crowd in every pocket of space available yet your brain fixates on the eyes trained on you. Like they are all pointing, laughing, guffawing at whatever joke they are making at your expense. You start to sweat, feeling cornered in your spot.

You should be used to this being the college’s rebound girl but everyone’s disdain for you has never been so apparent. People stuck to their occasional disapproving looks and maybe, there was a low comment when news of you hooking up with another person circled the campus but it’s never been this bad before.

All of the worst possible outcomes form inside your head. Did someone sneak into your house and take nude photos of you? Maybe someone from your high school came and told some bullshit story?

What else could the reason be?

“Hey guys.” Jeongguk smiles, setting down a cup of instant noodles and pulling you out of your spiral. “Taehyung and Jimin are in the bathroom but they’ll be here soon.” Gently, he plops next to you and the scent of him is enough to calm you down.

Familiar, sweet and soft as always.

And he looks great in a navy blue Nike hoodie and black jeans, oversized as always, but you’re one of the few people that knows what he looks like underneath all of those clothes.

So much honey toned skin; a chiseled stomach and chest; defined arms and legs; gorgeous, truly gorgeous.

Jeongyeon furrows her eyebrows at him. “Why aren’t you eating the cafeteria food?” She asks with concern.

“Ah, I'm not super hungry. I had a big breakfast,” Jeongguk waves off, showing the ⅔ full cup of ramen he had. “I’m probably gonna go home early too since I have a League of Legends match with my team soon.”

You nod in response, half-listening. Jeongguk had explained his gaming league thing to you a few days ago. He used to be on a team for fun but he’s currently trying to join a semi-professional one for fun since he isn’t in any clubs or organizations on campus. Not that Jeongguk is particularly interested in those but, these gaming leagues have been calling out to him for a while.

Anyways, this game is supposed to serve as kind of an audition and if he does well enough, he’s in. You silently hope for his success.

Then there’s a gentle nudge at your side. “How’d you do on the physics quiz?” Jeongguk asks, taking some steaming noodles to his mouth with a pair of perfectly split chopsticks.

“100%.” You beamed. It was a shock to you when you saw the score online but mostly relieving.

“Yay, that’s great.” Jeongguk held out a palm for a high-five which you reciprocated, wishing you could just kiss him. The way he smiles so brightly was enough to get you to forget about all of the eyes on you, almost increasing when you started interacting with him. “Knew you could do it.”

“Well I’d have to thank my tutor.”

His eyes roll. “Sure but I barely did anything. You knew most of it already.”

Nayeon and Jeongyeon laugh at the face you make, then prompt Jeongguk to try to get him to start tutoring them. When he asks what subject, they just say all of them, which makes him cutely blush for some reason. He’s a deadly mix of cute, adorable, sweet, hot and sexy and you cannot handle when each of those characteristics hit you in one go.

You almost start to tease him about it when a set of two drop harshly onto the table’s bench with an air of annoyance around them. Suddenly, all of the bright happiness floats away.

“Jeongguk, have you been lying to me?” Taehyung asks point blank with a hurt expression on his face. Jeongguk’s smile begins to fade.

“About what? You know I was just joking when I said your orange hair looked funny–”

The brunette’s frown deepens. “Not about that. I mean about the girl who supposedly dumped you? And who the fuck is RG anyways?” Taehyung asks with a shake of his head, coffee colored tufts swishing in the wind.

RG?

“What?” Jeongguk’s chin pulls back.Your panic is instant. “What are you talking about?”

Jimin cuts in with an annoyed groan. “Some guy in the bathroom was telling us about a rumor going around that this older girl dumped you and now you’re sleeping with someone else to get back at her.” Your stomach drops. No, this can’t be happening. “Apparently it was posted on some forum called–”

“GossipLeaks,” Jeongyeon supplies. The younger three look at her in confusion while Nayeon cringes. “It's this depraved site where losers with no social skills sit and refresh the page for drama from every department to fill the void inside of them instead of getting a job. Usually a person will upload a picture or start a thread and people will exchange gossip, start gossip, discuss gossip or talk shit until their fingers start bleeding. It’s hell on earth.”

You hate that fucking site so much. It played a huge role in creating your reputation after all.

Almost every single person on campus is there. Nayeon went slightly viral when she dumped her situationship for Jeongyeon by throwing a smoothie over his head after he said something rude to her. Someone threatened to leak their ex’s nudes to the website because they were cheated on. Incels crowd on so they can hate on women while others live for the gossip, scrolling relentlessly to point and laugh even though their lives aren’t anything to be proud of.

It has yet to be taken down since nothing bad is actually exchanged besides harsh words but the site is barely moderated. Not as much as it should be.

Anyone who crosses a line has the potential to be sued but since most college students are broke, the possibility is rare. Sounds amazing, right?

Now poor Jeongguk is at the receiving end. You can’t believe someone is lying about sleeping with him and about him rebounding with someone else. Jeongguk hasn’t even had sex before and (as far as you know) you’re the only person who has touched him. Who could do something like this?

“Show me the post,” he asks, resting his elbows on the table’s surface.

Jimin searches it up on his phone and then places the device down, scrolling through the threads with a small pointer finger and clicking on one, then turning it towards you two.

The pictures take a second to load but reading the post header was enough to make your mouth run dry.

RG’s newest conquest: some loser 2nd year that was brutally dumped by Social Sciences student representative Kim Juri over the summer.

Oh great, Juri spread the rumor. Now you have the perfect reason to manifest her getting shit on by a bird.

“Wh–” you can’t even finish your sentence. The pictures load and it’s even worse than you imagined.

First is the two of you standing outside of your apartment building. There’s a breath of distance between your bodies and you’re laughing at something he said. His face crinkles as well, the dimples on his cheeks pop out. It looks friendly but it can easily be misconstrued.

And the second one is of the two of you hugging, squished together like you’re trying to become one whole person, and that seals the deal.

Your heart drops to the heels of your feet. You’re RG. Of course you’re fucking RG. Rebound Girl = RG. It’s practically part of your identity.

Suddenly, everything is making sense. The people laughing, staring at you; it’s another scandal all over again only this time, you roped in someone you actually cared about instead of someone broken hearted you decided to sleep with a few times. Now his name is soured by the stench of your bad decisions.

You want to cry. You didn’t–you couldn’t drag Jeongguk or anyone else for the matter into your mess.

It was always your problem to handle on your own. It was always your cross to bear. The guys you fucked never mattered once it was all said and done. Most of the time, they got street cred or they were praised while you were the dirty slut so it wasn’t like you could feel bad for them. They were always painted as the winners. But you’re terrified of what this could do for Jeongguk.

Would he get harassed? Made fun of for giving in easily? Would he lose his chances of finding someone he actually likes this year?

Would he want nothing to do with you afterwards?

You begin to panic, spiraling deep into the depths of your self-hating brain. How could you miss someone snapping a picture of you two in broad daylight? You should’ve done better.

This is the worst possible thing you could imagine coming out of hanging with Jeongguk is that he would become privy to the mess that is your social life. A small part of your brain even considered this, especially after Jeongguk rejected Juri but you let it go and now you’re pissed because you should’ve been smarter.

You should’ve pushed him away, studied on your own that night. No, you should’ve been more careful.

You should’ve never thought you could openly hang out with him and not suffer the consequences. What were you thinking?

Once everyone has read the post, Jimin takes his phone back and continues scrolling through. No one says anything for a moment, then:

“Guys, don’t believe a word that comes out of Kim Juri’s lying mouth. She hates us,” Nayeon motions to you, her and Jeongyeon, “and she’ll do anything to make other people follow suit. Trust me.” She stresses, even abandoning her meal to reiterate. Jeongyeon nods animatedly. But the problem is much deeper than that.

You wanted to be friends but she never entertained the idea after you got labeled as the rebound girl. Constantly tormenting you, throwing your promiscuity in your face, and denying your efforts to reconcile.

At some point, you grew some humility and dropped the idea of you and Juri ever getting along. You’re a girl's girl but you also don’t hate yourself to desperately pine over some mean girl’s approval.

So, now things have turned out like this.

This is so annoyingly unfair. It's tiring living like this, pretending like you aren’t bothered and that taking the high ground will benefit you. All you do is let Juri get away because you know deep down that fighting back has no point.

“What a loser,” Jimin curses, turning to you with that apologetic look on his soft features.

Taehyung does the same. “Yeah, she must have a lot of free time on her hands if this is all she does.”

You return their kind words with a weak but meaningful smile. It doesn’t make the storm brewing up inside of you go away. It just makes things worse. Because yes, Juri is a loser but she’s only a loser in your eyes. Everyone else sees her as the complete opposite. People will always be on her side. She’s done great PR to make you look like a dick-thirsty, back-stabbing bitch. There’s no way anyone would support you.

At the least, you’d have your two friends but Jeongguk and Jimin and Taehyung don’t need to be dragged into this war with Juri. Let them have fun, mess around, and be normal college kids while you take the heat. It’s always been that way after all.

Jeongyeon snorts. “She’ll get some karma in return for all of this. I can just feel it.”

There’s a slight lull in the conversation. You feel like the boys are doing their best to hold back from asking the question, the one that you really don’t want them to, while your friends are doing their best to maintain the light composure that was just there.

It’s coming. That question. You know it is.

Those words were blatantly on the screen and they aren’t idiots. They’re probably connecting the dots as you sit here and panic about it and you simply cannot handle those words coming from their mouths. Especially Jeongguk’s.

Considering you watched him grow up, he’s the last person you’d want to know about being the rebound girl.

Jeongguk’s mouth opens. You can practically see the cogs and wheels in his brain turn and that’s it for you.

Immediately, you get up from your spot. They all look at you, concerned and confused. There’s a heavy layer of pity that now disgusts you too much for you to stay.

“I should go,” you mumble, grabbing your things as quickly as possible.

All of their faces morph into shock. “What?” The three boys say at the same time.

“Babe, no, it’s fine.” Jeongyeon tries but you’ve already finished your food and your phone and bag are slung over your shoulder.

A single touch grazes the back of your hand. “Noona, you don’t have to–”

You shake your head and dip your eyes down, refusing to be reasonable.

“I’ll talk to you guys later. Bye.”

This is for the best.

Put some distance between you and Jeongguk, let the rumor die down a little, and then maybe you can hang out with him in private. Obviously no more kissing or hooking up so you’ll have to force whatever is growing inside of you to die off but you can do that. Yeah, no problem.

Then Jeongguk can find a girl he really likes and be with her without the implications of whatever went on between the two of you looming over his head and ruining his chances.

You turn and exit the cafeteria before anyone can stop you, taking long strides and putting a surgical mask over your face to block out your features. You even draw your hood up and shove earbuds in so you wouldn’t have to hear anymore whispers.

Although the effort is futile; all your brain does is repeat the same words over and over again.

Slut.

Whore.

Rebound girl.

They’re starting to become synonymous with your name. Maybe you should stop pretending like you’re anything different and just accept the name for what it is. Maybe Junho was right after all. Seojoon too.

Maybe you’re good for nothing else but a fun romp every once in a while. A tight hole and a soft wet mouth, pliant for any man who gives you attention because you’re so desperate for it, desperate for love.

You always thought that you were hardwired wrong by always believing men when they tell you that they’re broken and beg for you to lick their wounds. That you simply just never learn from your mistakes no matter how intense they get because of that idiotic faulty screw in your skull that wants you to give this guy the benefit of the doubt.

But maybe, you’re simply an awful person.

Maybe you don’t actually care about the guys. You just have some shitty savior complex turned into a hunger for hurting men. Maybe you’re an awful person who deserves this.

Before you can stop it, tears stream down your cheeks, rolling down your neck and underneath your hoodie as you walk as fast as you can towards the subway station. That tightness in your chest worsening as the very last bits of strength you were holding onto crumble into nothing.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

The hangout was extremely impromptu.

Jeongguk hadn’t seen you for the rest of the week and he was starting to get worried. You had responded to his texts in short, curt words, saying you were sick and that your professors were emailing you PDFs of classwork so there was no need to pick up anything. When he offered to bring some soup, you declined once more saying your mom was already bringing some and since then, he hasn’t found another excuse to come see you.

It hurt. It hurt watching you get hurt, it hurt watching you hold back tears as you ran off to hide your hurt and it fucking hurts watching you pretend like everything is okay when it’s not.

Jeongguk doesn’t care about the rumor. So what if people were staring and he got teased every now and then? It’s not true so it didn’t matter.

But he realized, seeing your reaction, that the two of you were getting treated differently.

While everyone was praising him for getting laid by “rebound girl,” and other girls began debating his potential in bed, you were getting vilified beyond anything. He heard girls in his class degrade you, calling you a slut, a whore, saying that you’d sleep with anyone if it gave you enough attention. Jeongguk would glare in their direction, scaring them off, but the whispers still swirled around him.

After that, he wanted that stupid website to be filled with malware and be destroyed. Hell, he’d do it himself if that wasn’t a cybercrime. This whole thing has been blown way out of proportion.

And, holy shit, the things men have been saying to him…

It’s honestly disgusting.

Ayyy, get it Jeon!

Knew you were a fucking stallion behind that nerdy look you got goin on.

Did she suck you off? I heard she’s really good with her mouth.

Someone came up to him and expressed regret that Jeongguk was the first and only second year to get with rebound girl, claiming he wanted to be the first but because you’re so picky, he couldn’t. Jeongguk had almost punched him but Taehyung held him back, reminding him that he could lose his scholarship too if he stooped too low.

He hates this and he hates that you have to go through something like this.

For the past few days, all Jeongguk could think about was how strong you were. He doesn’t know how you got this nickname, why it’s such a big deal to everyone around you, but he wished it never happened. Thanks to this rumor, you had to grow a thick skin so that you could simply be you and not have to worry about other people but unfortunately, misogyny is rampant. It made you become strong, become resilient, and he wishes that it wasn’t because of that.

Jeongguk thought up some kind of plan to get Juri to take the post down or to publicly clear the air but he also didn’t want to play the white knight, trampling all over a situation that barely involved him. Stepping on your toes by trying to solve this could only hurt you further.

So all he could do was wait.

Wait for you to text back, wait for you to reappear.

Jeongguk grows antsy and he tries to distract himself from worrying. School isn’t helping one bit so he plays games and goes to the gym as much as he can. And when that doesn’t work well–

Thankfully, his friends are an interesting bunch which brings him back to the reason why this whole hang out started.

Nayeon and Jeongyeon were walking over with Jimin while Taehyung was hounding Jeongguk at the campus entrance over something he absolutely hates doing: buying weed.

“C’mon, he’s literally giving it to you for free!” Taehyung whined, showing the text on Jeongguk’s phone to him like he hasn’t already read it, eyes rolling at his friends’ desperation.

Let’s get one thing clear: Jeongguk has no problem with weed. He almost had an edible once by complete accident but he spit the rest out the minute his cousin told him that the gummy was laced with contraband so the effect didn’t do much for him. Being friends with these two dipshits means that the smell constantly follows him and he’s used to dealing with their giggly asses every now and then. Taehyung has a bong hidden in his apartment while Jimin aptly had a bright pink pipe patterned with cats all over it but he dropped it and loudly sobbed when the thing cracked in half.

He isn’t a goody-two shoes but, speaking candidly, he’s never really felt the need to do it.

It’s the same with alcohol. Jeongguk doesn’t get the urge to sit down with a beer and crack one open after a long day nor does he ever want to get shitfaced for fun. He needs to have complete control over himself and everything he does and everything he says because he gets the feeling that he’d be the type to tell someone his PIN number when inebriated or irritate everyone with his antics which is probably related to his anxiety but whatever. So nothing about the practice is relaxing to him. Getting drunk or high can actually make Jeongguk really fucking nervous but his peers disagree.

Especially Taehyung who is a staunch believer that smoking weed is the best way to calm down and that food tastes better when high. Jeongguk is a bit curious about that last bit.

But back to the begging. To make a long fucking story short: Jeongguk knows a dealer.

Not voluntarily. A seedy 3rd year who he also tutored over the summer made sure to let Jeongguk know that he would give him some free shit he wanted as payback for all of the help passing Chemistry. Never did he think he’d take the guy up on his offer until now.

Taehyung filled everyone in on the backstory and now Jeongguk has four people begging him like dogs wanting a treat. He pinches the bridge of his nose, sighing in irritation.

“What if I get caught?” He asked; the most important question.

Jimin countered back. “You won’t. He’s literally going to hand you a regular-ass bag and no one will suspect a thing. We can take it from you as soon as you get back here and smoke some today,” he offered, met with cheers of approval.

Jeongguk’s chest twists. He wishes you were here to help. You were still nowhere to be found and he misses you so much. You’d probably laugh that cute laugh of yours, egg Jeongguk on with the rest of them but have concern in your pretty eyes to let him know that this wasn’t peer pressure. That he could say no and it wouldn’t be a bad thing.

Unfortunately, he has to face this alone.

Jeongguk gives the two girls a surprised look. “Did you two already finish your tin of edibles?”

“Nah, we’re gonna save that for midterms so we can get zonked and watch Shark Tale while eating fried chicken.” Jeongyeon answers, tugging Nayeon close.

“Awww,” Taehyung pouted. “Can we do that?” Turning to his boyfriend and gently gripping the sleeve of his shirt.

Jimin winked at the younger. “Whatever you want baby,” then turned to the other, “but only if Einstein over here can grow some balls and say yes.” Taehyung directs his puckered lips towards him, batting his eyelashes like a cartoon character.

Jeongguk is a weak man. He can be a people pleaser but only to those who he loves. His sisters, you and his two best friends fall into that category.

Because one pout from Taehyung and he folds, like the weak man he is.

“Fuck, fine. I’ll ask,” he unlocks his phone and texts the dude. “But only once! Just go to your trusted guy after this, okay?”

Taehyung and Jimin salute him. “Yes sir!”

Jeongguk texts the guy to hand it over to him after his last class after lunch, who was more than happy to supply the guy who helped him pass his summer classes. In fact, he looked proud, jabbing Jeongguk with his pointy elbow and saying that he’s finally pulling that stick out of his ass. Whatever, Jeongguk is not that uptight. He can have fun in lots of other ways!

But Jimin was right. The smell is barely there and the bag itself looks inconspicuous. His curiosity took over him to peek inside while walking with the others. There was a silver tin, a bag of powdered weed, a pack of peach ring edibles and two brownies.

“Fuck, this is so much,” Jeongyeon marvels at the bag as they reach the outside of ana apartment building, pulling out the silver tin and gasping when it opens up to a set of rolled joints. “Oh my, he gave you pre-rolled joints! We’re hitting these right now.”

Which is how Jeongguk found himself in Nayeon's studio apartment. Sitting around a coffee table with the spiked food and her TV playing Sailor Moon. He did his best to not think about how her room looked a lot like yours with all of the cute stuffed animals and posters and how her little pomeranian dog yapped happily whenever he gave it attention. The bed that he’s leaning against reminds him of the same bed where the two of you laid while your lips and hands and tongue made him feel things he’s never felt before.

Jeongguk can’t stop thinking about you. It takes all of his restraint not to shoot you a text, not to associate everything he sees with memories of you and that night in particular.

But he should stop so he idiotically doesn’t pop a boner with everyone else around. Thinking of you usually does that for him.

So he focuses on the clouds of smoke blown right in front of his face as Nayeon starts on the joint. She coughs just a bit, then passes it to Jeongyeon who takes two indulgent puffs and then passes it to Taehyung and then Jimin. Their eyes glaze over, tension from the long school day disappearing as the drugs take their effect.

“You wanna try it?” Jimin asks, holding the flamed stick towards Jeongguk. He stares down at it, then up at his friends’ reddened eyes.

Does he?

Everyone else seems so relaxed and Jeongguk could use some relaxation. Besides, it won’t kill him to take one hit. He’s surrounded by seasoned potheads so they’ll know what to do. It’ll be fine. Everything is fine. Maybe he’ll stop fretting over you and relax. Clear his brain for once.

Carefully, he places the tip between his lips and Taehyung explains the process. Inhale, hold it for a bit, exhale slowly. It’s supposed to burn at first and then it’ll get better. He coughs like a motherfucker and his throat might as well be on fire. But he drinks some water, tries again, and it’s a lot easier.

Weed has a particular taste that Jeongguk doesn’t mind. The smoke is somewhat bitter on his tongue and then earthy. He feels nothing then, five minutes later, he gets this lightness in his chest and head. Or a fuzziness is more like it. He’s almost sleepy and really hungry. Jeongguk begins devouring a packet of chocolate covered pretzels and then scarfing down two slices of pizza right after eating lunch only two hours ago. Those two things have never tasted so good before.

Jeongguk also finds that weed makes him giggly. Like really giggly.

He spent two minutes laughing at the way his toes looked with his toe socks on. Then about how long Taehyung’s fingers are in comparison to Jimin’s, then about the word duty (hilarious) to the point of tears springing from his eyes. Then Jeongyeon wanted to paint his nails which Jeongguk was all for and he chose a metallic midnight blue which she skilfully painted before starting on the others. Taehyung got maroon and Jimin got lilac.

Afterwards, the conversation lulled and their stomachs were full. Most of them were on the brink of falling asleep until Jimin proposed they all play a game.

It was basically the game Hot Takes but without any cards with prompts and dividing up into teams. Basically each person had to share a “hot take,” or an opinion/commentary that’s uncommon or meant to start a debate.

Which is a great game to play when the entire gang is not sober.

Taehyung started off with a simple one: people who don’t like pineapple on pizza are immature babies. This sparked quite the argument to the point where Jeongyeon was questioning their friendship before the timer went off. Then she shared hers.

Men who don’t like cats are red flags. This is factually true though. No one really disagreed so they moved on.

Then Jimin went. His was: Men who refuse to listen to female artists are also raging red flags. Very much true. No debate there.

Then Jeongguk: Vanilla is the worst ice cream flavor. It tastes like a candle. Like nothing. Jeongguk hates tasteless things. Some agreed with him, Jimin glared at him from the side but his cheeks were puffed with food so he’s nowhere near as intimidating as he’d think.

Then came Nayeon. She cleared her throat, then popped a green tea kit kat in her mouth. “As someone who has hooked up with both men and women, I can surely say that men don’t know how to give head.” She says confidently.

Silence rings in the air for a moment. Jeongyeon is sitting smug next to her girlfriend, while Jimin and Taehyung look confused.

And Jeongguk…well, he’s a bit confused too.

“Excuse you, I give great head,” Jimin places a hand on his chest, offended. “Have you seen these luscious lips? And I don’t have a gag reflex!”

Nayeon rolls her eyes. “Okay, well I don’t know how it goes for men but I’m talking about going down on women. They suck at it and most women agree.” Her arms cross over her chest confidently.

Jeongguk immediately thinks about you. He wants to know if you would agree.

Taehyung rests his head on Jeongguk’s shoulder. “How so?”

“They don’t do the right things. Porn has rotted their brains to thinking that moaning into it and moving their tongue around you is enough when it isn’t. You can’t just wiggle it around and expect me to scream and come like a paid actress.” Nayeon huffs. “I used to think something was wrong with me until,” she trails off, pink dusting her cheeks and it’s clear what she meant. Jeongyeon’s shoulders grow even higher with confidence. “A-and you can’t even tell them that it doesn’t feel good because then you bruise their ego and they’ll never do it again.”

Hearing that, Jeongguk begins to panic.

Is he like that? Did he not listen to you that night?

Fuck, he’s so selfish. Did you even enjoy it when he touched you? Did he even ask?

No You definitely felt something, he felt you coming, but was it good? Was he being selfish?

Oh god. Oh godgodgodgod.

“Honestly, they should take note from us,” Jeongyeon pulls Nayeon close. “I’ve never gotten complaints.” She looks cutely proud.

Taehyung pipes up. “I think us gays are just better at sex,” he feigns nonchalance while everyone hollers and toasts to their perfect, idealistic, amazing sex lives.

Everyone but Jeongguk.

All he does is think

That night when he got hard, he had no idea things would escalate to where they did but he’s so glad because he loved every second of it. From kissing, to your teasing tone, to your mouth around him, to his fingers inside of you and all the way until you came; it was perfect. Since then, Jeongguk has thought about another opportunity way more than he’d like to admit. He’s more confident now and he wants to try more things.

Gone is the first time insecurity. Jeongguk wants to take control, watch you shake and cry and beg for more. He wants you to feel good. That, in and of itself, is hot to him.

But he also wants to do well. Jeongguk doesn’t want to be like the guys Nayeon was talking about.

He knows the best way would be to directly ask you what you like but you aren’t here right now and Jeongguk knows he’ll chicken out when you’re all spread out underneath him and pretty all because he wants to impress you.

Besides, he’s relied on porn this far and if Nayeon says it’s a bad example, then he needs to learn.

Might as well take advantage of having two people who know how to please women and understand the basics.

Sober Jeongguk would never. Sober Jeongguk would worry himself into a panic attack and then use the internet instead of an actual person but sober Jeongguk isn’t here at the moment.

At some point, Jimin and Taehyung fall asleep on top of each other with their hands half inside the pizza box and that’s when he gains the courage to go talk to your friends.

Meekly, he slinks over to the kitchen where Nayeon and Jeongyeon are standing. Their backs pressed against the counter while the kettle boils some water for ramen. They’re laughing about something until Nayeon makes eye contact with him and kindly raises a brow.

“What’s up?”

He wasn’t so nervous at first but looking at her, Jeongguk is now getting nervous. “Um, so–uh– about the-the game we were playing,” he wipes his sweaty hands on his pants. “I wanted to–and please feel free to tell me to fuck off if you’re uncomfortable, I’m not trying to be weird or anything, but–”

“Spit it out, kid,” Jeongyeon teases, poking the dimple in his cheek and making him flinch.

Jeongguk exhales shakily, trying to slow his heart rate down some more.

“Are all guys really that bad when they…um, when they, you know…” He circles his hands so they can fill in the blank and thankfully, the two pick up what he’s saying. Nayeon laughs at his stuttery behavior.

“Well, I’m sure there are some guys out there that are great at eating girls out but not the ones I’ve met.” She takes a joint that was resting on a tray on the counter top, inhaling deeply, and then offers it to Jeongguk who accepts. “They just don’t know what they’re doing and they have no interest in learning, unlike women. Sex is an individual thing for them. Their pleasure and their feelings only.” Locks of honey blonde float in the air with the gentle breeze from the open kitchen window. “Why do you ask? Plan on doing it?”

He blushes, holding the smoke in for a few seconds before releasing it. “Y-yeah,” avoiding their eyes because this is so goddamn embarrassing what is he doing and it’s you he’s talking about. But they don’t have to know that. “I want her to feel good and you said that women are better at it. So I wanna learn how.”

Jeongguk wants you to feel good.

Ever since he first touched you, he can’t get it out of his head. The noises you make, the way your legs twitch and your hips rise when you’re just about to come is so fucking hot. Jeongguk can’t imagine how much sexier you’d sound with your legs wrapped around his head or seated on his face as you come over and over and over again. Wet and sobbing and spent on top of him just like you deserve.

But, he needs to gain some understanding before he does anything.

Jeongyeon smiles. Jeongguk is unsure if they know he’s talking about you or if they’re assuming he’s got some other girl on the side that he wants to please but he can’t worry about that right now. Golden advice is being poured into his ears like fresh ambrosia from the gods themselves.

“Alright, all you have to do is…”

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“Are you almost home?” You hear your mom’s voice pour from the speakers in your earbuds.

Looking down the end of the street, you see your apartment building, so you bring the microphone close to your lips to speak. “Yeah, like ten seconds away.” Thank god too, your arms were hurting from carrying your tote bag and the packaged food your mom sent you away with.

After Tuesday, when you were publicly humiliated, you didn’t go back to school. Walking home in the rain without an umbrella gave you a slight cold and that combined with the pain you felt emotionally, resulted in you needing to go home for two days. There’s something about being doted on, eating home-cooked food, and the comfort of a parent that makes all sicknesses feel like nothing. Thankfully, she lives a 30 minute train ride from here on the opposite side of Seoul.

It was nice. You didn’t tell your mom about what had gone down. Just gave her a basic run down as to why you got sick and not much else.

Oh and you did tell her that you and Jeongguk reconnected but that’s about it. There’s no telling how your mother would react if she found out the two of you hooked up. You’re close with her but not that close.

But now that you’re feeling better, you;ll probably call him and explain yourself. Then put an end to hooking up for good so you don’t repeat this mistake.

“Make sure you carry that mini umbrella in your bag. I keep on telling you and you never listened to me,” she lectures, making you groan.

“I know, I know, you were right,” your tone is light so she can tell you’re just messing with her. “I’ll put one in my bag as soon as I get home, okay?”

“Okay,” she sighs. The sound of the doorbell rings in the background. “Oh shoot, okay. I have to go darling, the repairman is here to fix the washing machine. Bye! Stay safe! Eat the soup!”

You reach the front of your apartment building anyways so no need to call. “Bye mom,” you mumble back, opening the front door and then walking to the elevators because you are too exhausted for the stairs. To use them, you scan the sensor on your keys and press the up button.

It’s quiet in this lobby. No music, no group of people giggling or talking about their plans. It’s a Saturday evening and this building, filled with college students, is pin drop silent.

You hate it because it leaves you alone with your tired, buzzing brain who has not been kind to you these past few days.

Ever since that cursed post on GossipLeaks, you’ve been regretting the day you ever let a man into your life romantically. The day you had sex for the first time has been the catalyst in all of this. No peace, no happiness, just slut shaming and pain.

Honestly, what’s the most annoying part about all of this is that your body count isn’t that high.

Not that any number of hookups should warrant this kind of treatment. It’s no one’s business and shaming people for having healthy consensual sex is so lame.

Leaving Jeongguk out because you didn’t sleep with him, you’ve fucked about 30 guys. That’s over the course of almost four years since you had sex for the first time in high school. It’s not that bad. There are guys on this campus bragging about their count being in the 200s yet not a single word of criticism or judgment is thrown their way. They’re praised and seen as gods.

But when you have some fun casual sex every once in a while, suddenly you’re a harlot and you deserve nothing. Yeah, that sounds fair.

Switching the song on your playlist to 505 by the Arctic Monkeys, you exit the elevator to your floor and pull your keys out from the pocket of your hoodie. It’s dinner time and your mom packed your favorite.

You open the door to find Snowball yowling at you for attention. You had Nayeon and Jeongyeon take care of her while you were back home. She’s usually pretty okay with them but some days she simply needs to have you around. Today must’ve been one of those days. Cooing, you set your bag on the ground and reach towards her to scratch the side of her face and pinch her cheeks.

“Sorry baby, I’m home now, okay?” Snowball purrs in response. You pick her up and cuddle with her in your lap for a little bit until she’s had enough attention for now.

To compensate for your absence, you got some treats too and the little ball of fur happily eats up the salmon treats while you put the food away.

Then you light up a candle, open your windows to let the stuffy air out and begin on a few simple chores. Mainly putting the dry dishes back in the cupboard, cleaning the cat litter, some laundry and finally taking out the trash.

You always enjoy doing these kinds of things, especially after a long few days of eating garbage and wallowing in your sick sadness. It feels nice to have fresh sheets and an empty trash can (you do the others daily already). Like a reset, a new start, which is just what you needed.

Although, part of you feels bad for avoiding your friends for so long.

Let’s be honest, you were embarrassed beyond anything and then the rain actually gave you a cold so some time away was 100% necessary. However, you wish you didn’t storm out without much of an explanation. You were just so embarrassed and sad and you didn’t want to cry in front of people who were clearly laughing at your demise.

Bolting was the best choice but now that you’ve had your space, you really just want to explain yourself to the three of them, specifically Jeongguk who is directly affected by shit like this.

While boys have it infinitely easier because they aren’t ostracized for their sexual activity, he must be uncomfortable with all of the questions being thrown his way. Maybe you’ll call him over the weekend for coffee and let him know or you could actually just facetime him so you won’t have to leave your house. Whatever, you’ll figure it out later.

Before depositing the bags of trash to the large bins outside the apartment building, you take a quick shower, changing into a freshly washed set of clothes that are still warm from the dryer.

Smelling like fresh laundry and the flowery scent of your lotion, you hum a song under your lips while taking the three bags outside to the bins. You think nothing of it. It’s around 8pm, most people are out right now, either going back home or leaving it. Tons of bodies are expected.

Quickly, you round to the back of the building, dump the bags, and just as you turn the corner, your eyes meet that special pair.

Big, sparkly, innocent when they want to be, salacious at times, but endearing nonetheless.

“Jeongguk,” you exhale.

He looks good, great, actually. The wind has tousled his hair around, making it look like he styled it to be messy and fluffy. Jeongguk has mastered an effortless look with a dark blue windbreaker, black cargos and white chunky sneakers. You can even see some rings on his fingers that match the ones hanging from his earlobes.

Jeongguk turns at the sound of your voice and immediately rushes over to you. “Noona,” his eyes soften immediately, “Are you feeling better?” He asks, delicately holding you away with two hands on either side of your arms.

His touch is warm, even through the thick material of your hoodie. Makes your stomach flip.

“Yeah, lots.” You giggle barely, patting his arm softly. “What are you doing here?” Jeongguk removes his hold on you, shoving them into the pockets of his jacket.

“I had a meeting with my league captain’s place two blocks from here and I was going to catch the train using the station near your place.”

“Oh.” You open your mouth to say something but his stomach rumbles loudly and Jeongguk covers the area up with his arms in embarrassment, making you smile. “Hungry?” He blinks at you widely and cutely.

“Yeah but only if you’re okay with it. I know,” he looks to the side awkwardly, “I know you wanted space and all so it’s cool if not. I can get Subway or something.”

As kind as it is for Jeongguk to respect this boundary that you haven’t verbally admitted is already somewhat gone, you’d feel bad letting him walk around on an empty stomach.

“I’m cool with it. My mom packed way too much anyways.” You shrug to make him more likely to say yes. Thankfully, it works.

Jeongguk scratches the back of his neck, sniffling from the cold once and then nodding. So you beckon him to walk next to you, back inside your apartment building and inside the elevator.

The conversation is brief and minimal, mainly asking about his week and how his meeting with his league went. You get brief responses in return which make you think he’s either annoyed with you or simply too hungry for chit chat. It’s slightly annoying that you don’t have the courage to be forthright and ask him how he’s feeling as if you didn’t have this man’s dick in your mouth a week ago.

Come on, you think as the elevator doors part. What’s the worst that he could say?

“Yeah, I am annoyed because you left for three days and I haven’t heard from you since.”

Well, you had a reason and a valid one at that. Besides, Jeongguk wouldn’t be annoyed over something so understandable.

The keys unlock the front door and you hold it open for Jeongguk, who slips his sneakers off and is immediately met by a curious Snowball. The moment she recognizes him, she headbuts her head into his calf, purring loudly.

“Hi baby,” he coos, petting her after plopping on the ground. You watch from halfway to the kitchen, a smile instantly forming on your lips as Snowball practically melts under his touch.

“She missed you,” you muse. “Looks like you’re the favorite.”

Jeongguk snorts. “Doubt it,” he looks up at you through his lashes, flashing the one deep dimple he has on his cheek along with the various creases in his skin.

Your heart flutters immediately.

“I’ll reheat the food.”

There’s a comfortable silence that resumes among the two of you. Jeongguk moves to the coffee table, leans against the edge of your bed and pets a purring Snowball while you tinker in the kitchen. He turns on the TV, watches a replay of some Mnet performance and hums along softly. You bring the steaming dishes out along with rice and chopsticks, settling a comfortable distance from the younger and eating.

He doesn’t say a word. You change the channel to the k-drama you were just binging during the train ride that you’ve watched maybe 900 times and Jeongguk doesn’t say anything.

Your eyes well up at the romantic scenes and you bury your feelings into green tea Kit-Kats and tea. Jeongguk doesn’t say anything.

He doesn’t say a single word until the food is all done, the drama rolls the credits and Snowball has moved to a corner far away to sleep. Then Jeongguk gains the courage to ask you.

“Do you…do you want to talk about it?” Jeongguk asks meekly.

At first, you had no idea what he meant. Then it hits.

Of course he’d want some answers. It’s his name that’s attached to your stupid label. Not like you can keep Jeongguk in the dark forever, right?

You had prepared yourself for this so you weren’t as uncomfortable but when the time hits, you sort of want to crawl into a ball and die.

You sigh, keeping your eyes on the half-finished bag of Kit-Kats. “No… yes… sort of.”

The thing is, only two people know the full story: Nayeon and Jeongyeon. Your mom knows about high school but those two have every detail.

Usually, you wouldn’t be so keen on spilling this out to anyone but the look on Jeongguk’s face is genuine concern and he isn’t some sleazy hookup you met at a bar. Jeongguk actually cares about you. He won’t use this against you or shame you. He’s asking because he cares. So it should be okay.

Besides, it gets tiring holding all of this in from your mom and adding on each shitty story to the pile. It’s close to overflowing inside of you and you need to let some out.

Jeongguk is trustworthy. He knows you. So you decide to start from the beginning of all of this.

“My track record with guys isn’t exactly clean,” you start, staring at the Hello Kitty pattern on your socks. “The first guy I slept with only did it as a bet because he knew I really liked him.” There’s a drop in your stomach at the mere mention of Seojoon. His gentle laughter and rough hands and how he barely even flinched when he saw how much you were crying when you found out. “He told me we were dating and that he was in love with me. I stupidly believed him and let him take my virginity because I wanted him so bad that I didn’t even see the red flags. Then I saw him making out with another girl and… it sort of broke me.”

Back then, you were quite the target. You were poor, your clothes and books were cheap, you didn’t have the newest phone or the nicest stationery and other classmates loved to point that out about you. All you wanted was to be accepted, to have friends, and fall in love.

Everyone seems to romanticize teenage love but they never seem to talk about how difficult teenage loneliness is either.

Seeing couples or hearing people talk about love like it was so easy made you want to scream into the void. Why couldn’t you have that? You wanted it so bad but why wasn’t it coming to you? Were you not lovable? Not worthy of a crush?

Seojoon was supposed to be your chance at teenage love only for him to hurt you the most.

That summer break, you swore you were going to die alone. The empty loneliness began to consume you. All you wanted was for someone to care about you and instead you got ridiculed. For having feelings. It was awful and you never cared about love again.

Some part of your brain is convinced that men are incapable of feeling love. Look at your dad, leaving without a second word, and look at Seojoon. You loved them and they burned you.

“Then, I started college and I decided that I wouldn’t let another guy manipulate me like that ever again. I was going to stay single for a while which was fine because my department got along. We weren’t super close but it was cordial, especially us first year girls. We’d get snacks, do homework, bake together and gossip a lot. Mostly the latter because all of us were kind of obsessed with this older guy, Junho.” You explain, imagining his honey sweet smile and eyes. “He was a class representative for the Econ department with a reputation for dating around and all of the girls, aside from Jeongyeon, used to dream that one day, he’d pick one of us and we’d get our happy ever after.”

It was fun. He was sort of like the department’s prince charming or It-Boy. Girls would flock around him, sometimes you included, just to get a glimpse of the Junho.

Jeongguk rests his chin on his knees that are folded up to his chest, staring intently at you as you continue to speak. “The thing is, Junho was actually really nice even though he was a total fuck boy. He just had a quality about him that made everyone like him. He was sociable and easy to talk to and cute but I never made a move. I was perfectly okay with finding him attractive from a distance because in my head, he was just this guy I thought was cute. That’s all I allowed myself to feel while the other girls kissed his cheek and asked for photos when they could.”

You knew that was for the better anyways.

Guys like Junho were a lot like Seojoon. Their egos were nice and fluffed to the point where they saw girls as expendable. If one said no, there’s a high chance one will just because they’re so blessed in genetics. Back then, you didn’t want to suffer the pain you felt because of Seojoon so you kept a distance and smiled as the other girls were living the dream.

“At some point, one girl he was messing around with absolutely rejected him in front of everyone and you could tell it hurt because he actually liked her. He didn’t show up at school for a few days and when he did, he wasn’t the old Junho. Instead, he was standoffish and quiet. Girls still wanted him but the interest changed from wanting to pin him down with commitment to healing his broken heart.” You stare at your fingernails, chipped nail polish revealing your pink nail beds. “I still kept my distance. I mean, what happened sucks but I wasn’t going to worry about it.” That’s what happens when you treat girls like shit. “Until I found him buying soju at a convenience store one night.”

A big mistake.

Jeongguk’s expression doesn’t change one bit and you’re glad for that. It makes you think he isn’t judging you in his head.

“He says hi and asks if he can talk to me and even though I wanted to say no, I couldn’t. I was starving and I wanted to eat at the store but I couldn’t disrespect him by rejecting him unless I wanted to get mauled the next day at school,” you explain. The seniority was insane. Still is. “So Junho and I ate together and then he just started trauma dumping on me about his failed relationship.”

Going on and on about how he was such a good guy and she was the first girl he ever really liked and that she was different and that she could change him for the better. Looking at it now, that was a sack of shit but nineteen year old you was eating up every word.

Especially when he started hitting deep.

“He was crying on my shoulder and I just felt so bad. I mean, sure, Junho was a player but I know what it feels like to want someone so bad and almost be punished for it. So I tried to console him by giving some basic ass advice like it’ll stick around if it’s meant to be. I don’t even think he was listening,” a sardonic laugh leaves you at what comes next. At how idiotic you were. “I guess halfway through my spiel he realized I was a girl with boobs who was a inches away from him and his primitive man brain just connected these imaginary dots. Since I had sympathy for him, I must want to console him even further with sex. So he asked if he could kiss me.”

Jeongguk doesn’t say anything but his chin tucks in and that’s enough of a reaction for you to continue.

“And you wanna know what I said? Yes.” You laugh again at your utter stupidity. “Not only because I was attracted to him but because I actually felt so sorry for him that I was willing to be his one-way ticket to happiness. I didn’t want him to feel worthless anymore, not like I did when Seojoon rejected me.” White hot shame burns your skin, your insides, all throughout your body. “I wanted to give him the fraction of attention I wished someone could’ve given me back then. I thought it would maybe soothe some of my old wounds too, maybe we…we both could move on from this.” It sounds so illogical right now but back then, it made complete sense. “We slept together one night and the next morning, after leaving me in his bed without another word, Junho tells everyone.”

It started with his chummy friend group, typically bragging after getting laid and getting his ego boosted. Like how every rumor or story passes around and Junho made sure to leave in the juicy details.

“He said I was the best rebound lay he’s ever had and that I made sure to make him feel like a king again,” you roll your eyes. All you did was blow him before letting him put it in. That should not constitute this much embellishment. “His friends told their friends who told other people and somehow the entire school knew I slept with him. That day, I walked onto campus and guys who never gave me the time of day before were suddenly so interested in me.” Which you didn’t mind but it did get annoying when they would look everywhere but your face. “I didn’t think anything else would happen. Only, I forgot how the girls would react.”

Remember, Junho was the It-Boy. Everyone wanted him and if you got to sleep with him, you were either harassed and slut-shamed or praised. It depended on how Junho reacted. Now, you didn’t hurt him so you thought you were in the clear but that rule ended up changing.

Because now all the guys wanted you and some girls didn’t like that.

“They were annoyed that I got with him first without consulting them. Thinking I wanted all of this attention and I wanted to be the first girl from our year to sleep with them like this was some kind of competition when that couldn’t be the farthest from the truth. I explained myself and I told them it was a one time thing and I was only trying to comfort him but it didn’t matter. They made their decision. My fate was sealed. I became rebound girl.” It took one simple night for your entire college life to be ruined. “Guys would come to me, complain about their broken hearts, manage to get to me because I’m easy and I always manage to convince myself that they mean no harm when they always do, sleep with me, then tell the entire school the next day. Rinse and repeat. I’m an idiot,” you exhale, hiding your face in your hands.

It’s such a painful sensation to want to cry but no tears come out. You want to scream, shout into the sky about how frustrating this entire thing is but you don’t have the energy.

All you feel is exhaustion. Accepting this fate is your only option. You dug this grave, now go lie in it alone, like you deserve.

“I should’ve known. I should’ve been smart enough to stop after the first person but I keep on giving these guys the benefit of the doubt and trusting them when they actually say they want me when–I just–ugh, I’m so–”

Then something warm gently scoots across your back and your nose is filled with the scent of cotton and floral notes. The arm curls around you, cupping your shoulder as the other one rounds your front and Jeongguk is hugging you.

Okay and maybe the position is awkward and maybe you’re about as red as a tomato with anger but this hug is just what you needed.

Throughout the week, all you did was blame yourself and convince yourself to keep some distance from Jeongguk. You didn’t want to ruin his reputation or bring him into your mess with this weird love triangle with Juri because he simply didn’t deserve that just for being your friend and letting you suck him off once. But your heart simply wasn’t in it. You didn’t want to leave the one person that reminds you of your childhood and feels like home.

“You’re not an idiot,” Jeongguk says.

You sigh. “You don’t have to–”

Jeongguk interrupts you. “No,” he presses firmly. “So what if you slept with that Junho guy? What does it matter to everyone else?” He huffs cutely with his thick brows all furrowed and lips slightly pouty. “Why do they get to shame you when there are tons of other college students doing the same thing? Why are you the only one in the wrong?”

Jeongguk is right. Lots of people have lots of sex. Guys are on the higher side but there are people out there having regular hookups. You get chastised for it.

But at the same time…

“I allowed this to happen, Jeongguk.”

Even if those guys tried to get to you with their sob stories, you still said yes at the end of the day. You played into this reputation. Aren’t you at fault too?

“You didn’t allow anything, though.” He sighs, turning more to you, hands cupping your cheeks to get you to meet his gaze, thumbs tracing the skin under your eyes. “Noona. This isn’t your fault. Please don’t blame yourself for this.”

“It feels like it. No matter what I do, people will always see me as some big bad slut. How can I not believe it?” It’s your turn to sigh, gently pushing Jeongguk’s hold off your face and turning to the side. “Have people been treating you differently?”

Is it as bad as you think? Are girls refusing to talk to him? Boys usually never get the kind of treatment you do but you can’t help but panic.

Jeongguk waves it off. “No,” his eyes roll heavily and it doesn’t soothe you. “Like there are a few comments here and there but it’s all praise.”

Momentarily, you are relieved that he isn’t being ridiculed for sleeping with you. At least, you think, at the very least boys will always get away with their promiscuity. You can count on that.

“Still. Being associated with me in that way is just no good, Guk,” you remind him, even though pushing him away is the last thing you want. You want him close, to feel his touch, to kiss his lips and be with him. There’s a fire brewing inside you and it hasn’t been quenched since the first time you got to kiss him. All it does is ask for more chances.

To kill that flame would take a lot from you and you already don’t have much to give.

Jeongguk links your fingers together and rests them on his outstretched thigh, searching your eyes to gain your attention. “I don’t care about a bunch of random people and their opinion. It’s not going to stop me from seeing you. Not them and not that Juri girl, okay?”

Fucking Juri.

She spearheaded all of that hatred towards you when Junho spilled the beans on you sleeping with him. She was the one behind the scenes telling all of the other girls in your grade just how awful and back-stabbing you were. You hadn’t even wronged her. Sure, she liked Junho just as much as everyone else did but you still had yet to hit her where she was really sensitive.

“Juri never liked me. The first time we met, she had this impression with the way I dressed or if some guy looked at me too long. As if she could already tell I was the type of girl to seduce every guy in my vicinity.” It didn't matter what you wore, some guys just stared because the way society oversexualizes everything about a woman. You weren’t a person to them, you were an object with tits and a nice ass. “When the rumor got out, it was like her first impression was confirmed and she was telling everyone else how awful I was.” It just gets worse and worse delving into this topic and while Jeongguk hasn’t been scared off just yet, this might be it. You sigh, avoiding his eyes for your conjoined hands to comfort you. “After Junho there was this other guy, I think his name was Sunghoon, and he was best friends with Junho. Juri had a massive thing for him, even more than whatever she felt for Junho, but I didn’t know because we were never friends.”

No one knew but Juri’s circle. It was a secret crush after all.

“Sunghoon heard about me from Junho and wanted to sleep with me too. I was already upset about Junho telling everyone so I ended up rejecting him since it was too soon but he still told everyone we did it anyway. Of course, everyone believed him no matter what I said. My reputation was set in stone.” You feel Jeongguk squeeze your hand tightly when your voice wobbles slightly. You swallowed down any pain you felt inside. “Juri was furious and now all of the other girls had perfect reason to hate me because I apparently stole her man. I tried to tell her that I didn’t know and that I’m sorry and that it wasn’t even true but she didn’t want to hear it.”

Part of you doesn’t want to blame her. You know what it feels like when the guy you like chooses another girl. It hurts more than anything else, digs at your insecurities, begs the question if you are loveable or some ugly beast.

But Juri was never kind to you to begin with. She isn’t a girl’s girl, she’s someone who will do anything for male validation. Even if it means losing all of her friends.

So you know what? You don’t need someone like that in your life.

Nayeon and Jeongyeon would never do something like that.

“Did anyone else lie about having sex with you?”

A sad scoff leaves your lips. “You wanna know what the actual number is?” Jeongguk nods. “30. But ask anyone in our school, they’ll easily say 300 or some shit. Most guys have lied.”

Not like anyone will fact check. Junho did enough embellishment so all of the other guys could simply say your name and they’d believe it.

That’s what reputation is. A label attached to a person so powerful that it does things on its own. And you had a reputation for being a slut who fixes broken men.

Jeongguk groans, breaking you out of your train of thought. “This is so frustrating.” Your head turns, finds genuine anger on his boyish features. “All of those guys came to you. Junho and that Sunghoon guy and Seojoon all came to you and made you think they needed to have sex with you to feel good,” Jeongguk stresses. “And then you get punished for being a victim to their games.”

A man can be promiscuous all he wants but a woman has to remain pure. Not for her own sake but for the sake of men. Whenever women put themselves first, they’re bullied into silence. They aren’t supposed to act like men. They’re supposed to be proper, beacons of purity and grace.

Well, who fucking made that rule?

Why can’t men be the beacons of purity? Why do they get to slut around and get away with it?

Why are you the spawn of Satan for even looking at a guy while there are boys at your university who have actually slept with over 100 women.

“People suck,” is all you can say back. You’re just one person. There’s no way you can change the way society has been structured for years on end, right? A twinge of despair sits heavily in your chest as you’re consistently met with the reality of your situation.

“They do. And you know what?”Slowly, you look back up into Jeongguk’s sparkly bright eyes. He’s got the beginnings of a smile on his lips and you swear your stomach rushes with butterflies. “It’s their loss. Because they are missing out on getting to know a beautiful, kind, smart, accomplished and hardworking woman.”

You soften immediately. Sure, you’ve been called beautiful before but never the others. After being sexualized for years on end, no one else ever saw your worth beyond that so you had to tell yourself. Sometimes it worked, sometimes your insecurities got the best of you. But you know that you’re hardworking and smart and kind.

It’s different coming from Jeongguk.

He’s saying it for you, not to benefit himself later on. It’s real, not a blanket statement. There’s no promise that you’ll blow him and he won’t go around telling people that you did because he isn’t like that.

He’s a man who genuinely likes you for you. Not your body or your reputation.

Your legs uncurl and you’re inching closer to him. It’s an automatic response. You don’t even think to try to hold it back because you don’t want to and you shouldn’t have to. It’s safe in your apartment and no one will call you anything here. You get on your knees and swing one leg over his lap once more, inviting the soft scent of him as your face buries in the crook of his neck, arms wound around his shoulders.

Jeongguk is warm and his hands are back on your hips innocently. The touch isn’t sexual at all and it’s just what you needed.

Jeongguk’s chin rests on your shoulder as he starts speaking once more. “And you know what? Someone got caught fucking in the teachers lounge two days ago and it’s all everyone is talking about. No one has mentioned this story at all so don’t worry about it. I’m the least affected by this. I want to know if you’ll be okay.”

You smile against his skin, hopes he can feel you do that.

“I will.”

This rumor will pass, someday, certainly. But then, you refuse to be photographed with a man in any sort of context. All hookups will have to leave at 3am or something.

Speaking of….

“You wanna stay the night?” You pull your head out, fingers twisting with the strands at the back of his head. “It’s getting late and I don’t want you to take the subway right now.” You live in a safe area but still. And you want him around but only if he’s interested. “I could call you a cab too, if you want?”

“No, I’ll stay. I just don’t have any sleepwear.” He looks down at his cargo pants with a slight pout. God, he’s adorable.

“I have sweatpants,” you offer. Or Jeongguk could also sleep in his boxers.

Unlike some people, you can control yourself.

“There’s a high chance they won’t fit.”

Right. Boy has huge thighs. Muscular and toned. You can feel them underneath your legs and the brief thought of riding them until you cum all over him passes through your mind like a cheetah. Now is simply not the time to be horny.

Seriously, your cycle of terror finished two days ago. You have to relax. You just said you could control yourself.

Still, you let one of your hands slither down from where they were hanging behind Jeongguk’s neck to the planes of his chest, stopping right where his beating heart should be. It thumps soundly beneath your fingertips while allowing you to feel up the firm peaks of his chest that you so desperately want to squeeze like anything.

“Speaking from experience?” You smirk.

Jeongguk’s face dulls, pinching your side in retaliation. You yelp. “Look when you live with two sisters, laundry gets mixed up and I’ve had a lot of sweatpants barely go up my legs until I started running my clothes alone.”

Giggling, you flick under his chin.

Although, the thought of him doing his own laundry is also hot and–holy fuck, bro, get it together.

You tap his chest once. “Fine, I’ll get you a pair.” You sigh, waiting for Jeongguk’s hold on your waist to loosen so you can get up, which he allows you to do.

Except, sitting on your knees for so long left them sore and lacking in blood flow so by the time Jeongguk also gets up, your legs almost give out, resulting in you collapsing against his chest for balance and your hands landing right on his chest.

“Sorry,” you exhale with some laughter. Jeongguk’s hands first curl around your elbows, warm and comforting, and then down to your hips. “Gimme a sec. I literally can’t feel my legs so I’ll have to hold onto you for a–ah!”

Jeongguk uses the hold he has on you to lift you up, twine your legs around his waist with a little bounce in his movement. Your hands clutch at his body when you feel your feet lift off the ground, fear subsiding when he looks up at you with glimmering eyes.

Staring back, it’s obvious why women like him, why Juri was so upset when he rejected her. Jeongguk is so attractive it’s insane. From every angle, he manages to look perfect. Like an angel.

“I like it better this way,” he grins.

Doesn’t help that he’s sweet like candy on the inside too.

The blush on your cheeks must make you look like a tomato but you don’t care. The way Jeongguk looks at you, holds you, has your entire body covered in goosebumps. Fluttering inside your tummy, screaming at you to pin him down against that mattress and show him all of the things that you like too.

But all you do is playfully roll your eyes. “You nearly gave me a heart attack,” you pretend to scold.

“You like it.”

Fuck, he’s smirking and he’s right. You did like it. There’s something to be said about being manhandled and tossed around like some ragdoll. You’ve always been the submissive one in sex so the thought of Jeongguk bending your body to his will calls for a rush of arousal.

That coupled with the cocky look on his face. It’s fucking Niagara Falls down there.

“Just move, Jeon. Unless you want to sleep in the pants you’re already wearing.”

Jeongguk moves a hand up to salute you, still keeping a strong grip on the back of your thighs. You bite back a gasp when he subconsciously squeezes the mass to make sure his hold doesn’t falter.

You’re already throbbing. Both from the act of strength and the confidence wavering off him. When Jeongguk first touched you, he was so hesitant but now he’s reached a point where he can hold you without fear that he’s crossing a boundary. Thanks to the conversation you had at the beginning of the week and you’re glad about it. He’s one of the only guys you genuinely trust.

And currently, he’s the only guy you want to pin you down on your bed

Directing him to the chest of clothes, Jeongguk walks the two of you forward. Then sets you down in front of it. You could’ve easily gotten up but, you know, why do that?

With a still fuzzy brain, shaking fingers curl around the drawer’s metal handle. You pull open the first drawer of your dresser without much thought. Jeongguk is hovering behind you with curious eyes, allowing you to get drunk on the scent of him and the warmth of his body.

But being on cloud nine makes you forget that the drawer you opened just so happens to be your lingerie drawer.

And you pause. Like a dog getting caught doing something they weren’t supposed to be doing.

The contents are neatly packed. Lacy and skimpy, in multiple colors. No one should own this much lingerie but you love it. The confidence a nice set gives you and the way some react make spending all of that money online worth it. You feel powerful and you’ve had some great fucks in some of these sets.

However, this is not how you planned on showing Jeongguk your collection.

Yeah, let’s add this to the list of porno plots that you thought happened to no one but happened to you because you are experiencing bouts of embarrassment and bad luck at the moment. You might as well change your name and move to Switzerland to herd sheep now.

Jeongguk pauses behind you too. The hands that were on your hips, steading you for no reason, feel slightly detached.

Causing you to panic.

The drawer slams shut. “S-sorry! Wrong one.” You go to the 2nd one and pull out a large gray pair, pushing it into Jeongguk’s chest without another word.

Oh my god. Ohmygodohmygodhohmygod.

You should’ve actually thought this through! Instead of letting the lightness from Jeongguk picking you up dictate your every move like an idiot. Now what will he think?

Sidestepping him, you don’t even want to imagine what could be going on in Jeongguk’s head. A desperate ploy to sleep with him after complaining about the way men treat you? Trying to gain his sympathy just to get him in bed? Sounds hypocritical, right?

You should go. You should check on the dishes or make some tea or–

“Noona,” Jeongguk stops you with a soft hand on your wrist. “It’s okay,” his voice is firm and sure, causing you to slowly turn your neck to face him.

His lips are set neutral, a little pouty like always. But his expression seems to be calm.

“You don’t have to apologize or anything.” You watch his Adam’s apple bob when he swallows. “Honestly, it was…” he trails off, the redness becoming more obvious on his cheeks and ears.

Oh.

Any rigidness in your body begins to melt and you feel that previous fluttering in your belly return, pushing you to take a step closer. “Did you like them?” You ask, boldly.

Gone is the fear that you’ve pushed him away, reaffirmed your reputation or behaved like the very assholes who gave it to you because he doesn’t believe in that. He likes you and trusts you and you have no reason to panic when things like this happen. Jeongguk won’t call you a slut.

He cuts contact, looks to the side, and you see the briefest nodding on his head. Your smile grows tenfold. How cute.

“Oh, I see.” Abandoning any plans of running from him, palms flat on the firmness of his chest that you so desperately want to sink your teeth into. The light hitting the top of his head illuminates his skin, making him all golden, and you don’t think you can handle your wetness any longer. Jeongguk is just that good looking. “Do you wanna pick one out?”

His eyes flash up to you. “What?”

“Pick one for me to wear.”

Jeongguk’s boy brain seems to put the pieces together slowly, realizing what you want to happen, what you’re greenlighting that he’s been thinking about for a few days now.

You take initiative by going back to your dresser, tugging Jeongguk along, and opening the drawer all over again. Now Jeongguk can actually look at it instead of relying on the five second glimpse he got before. Sees all of the lace and mesh cut outs, sees the box of condoms in the corner, some lube. Thankfully, you’ve hidden any sex toys so you won’t have to deal with that.

While him finding lingerie was pretty tame in retrospect, Jeongguk finding that 7 inch vibrator you’ve got would be the end of you.

None of your baby dolls are in here but you don’t think those are Jeongguk’s style. Too much frill and fabric, meant for guys who really desire stereotypical femininity in the girls they fuck and want a little show when fucking. Jeongguk seems a little more straightforward. Likes easy access while still being sexy. So all of your teddys, which are essentially bodysuits or swimsuits made mostly of lace, are in this drawer. His eyes travel all throughout, ignoring the pinks and teals and reds for black and white.

Inching closer, Jeongguk seems to be deciding on two in particular. Then gently pulls one out by the strap.

“I like this.”

Your jaw slackens slightly. It’s crotchless, first of all, and it’s completely see through. Even the cups reveal your nipples without much fabric covering it. There’s a single strip of fabric going down your sternum and there are two identical lace detailing on your sides, completely free where your mons would be. Open right at your entrance.

Jeongguk picked a much more revealing one. You wonder what on earth he has planned for you but you nod regardless, taking the article of clothing from him and brushing some hair out of his face.

“Get changed and then wait on the bed for me.” Kissing him briefly on the nose.

Thankfully, you took an everything shower yesterday. Not that you really care about hair and men who do are weird but this will be your second time hooking up with Jeongguk so you still want to look a certain way for him, just until you talk about preferences some more.

Jeongguk speed walks to your bathroom, has you giggling at the way he urgently shuts the door. Snowball’s head perks up from her bed and you carefully move her to a different bed in a farther corner so she doesn’t have to bear witness to whatever will happen. She isn’t happy about it, makes an irritated low noise when you hold her but it’s for her own good.

After patting her a few times to get comfortable in her new bed, Jeongguk emerges with your pants in his hands.

“They didn’t fit.”

Not that you’re complaining.

“Shame, guess your boxers will have to do.” You feign annoyance but the slight bulge in the fabric tells you the opposite.

Jeongguk’s expression is difficult to judge. He follows your body as you saunter to the bathroom, eyes burning a hole in your back. You purposefully sashay a little, making sure your ass is shown off, that your hair swishes around. You’re dripping in confidence and you didn’t expect yourself to be like this considering the beginning of your run-in with Jeongguk.

But, he helps bring you back down from that poor state of mind where you let everyone’s words get to you by reminding you just how amazing you are. Confidence is something you always had but it gets buried and Jeongguk just brought it back up.

At some point, you hope to grow strong enough to never allow stuff like what happened this week to bother you. Even better, that the rumor becomes squashed and you’re no longer rebound girl.

But that’ll take time and, right now, you’re willing to wait.

Stripping down, you get ready. Slipping on the lingerie, messing your hair up a bit, adding a touch of lip gloss, and humming Positions by Ariana Grande to get you in the zone.

Jeongguk should want to devour you. You should want to devour him.

The door creaks open slowly and your body is halfway out when you speak up. “Close your eyes, Jeongguk!”

Some rustling is audible. “Huh? Okay!” He calls back in his trademark polite gentle tone. A smile grows on your face right afterwards.

You got this.

The door behind you shuts, slightly colder air causing you to be covered in goosebumps but it doesn’t matter. You’ll be warmed up soon. Turning the corner, Jeongguk is seated on the edge of your bed with his legs spread wide (hot), propped up with his hands on the bed on either side of his hips.

And he��s done you the favor of already taking his shirt off, folded neatly at the foot of your bed. So Jeongguk is just in his boxers. How nice of him.

A scoff leaves your lips, too quiet for him to pick up, but your footsteps are loud and clear. Jeongguk moves his hands a little and he doesn’t flinch when you sink down onto his warm lap, arms around his neck like they belong.

“Can I open my eyes now?” Jeongguk hasn't touched you just yet. Honestly, he seems like he’d make the perfect sub with how good he is and how well he listens but you’ve never delved into that.

You have no idea if you’d totally enjoy it unless it was a teasing back and forth and Jeongguk got the chance to put you in your place too. Get you whining and crying into your sheets until–

Okay, fuck. You’re already soaking wet and bare. You don’t need the scenarios and you haven’t even responded to him.

Leaning close to his perfect face, you smack a quick kiss on his cheek, right below that scar of his. “Not yet, baby.” You purr, mapping a line down his neck with your lips. Jeongguk has such a nice neck and hickeys look so good on him. The urge to mark him up completely overtakes all rationality (not that you had much to begin with).

Kissing down to the middle of his neck slowly, your lips suction around his pulse point, digging your teeth in, and you feel Jeongguk stir beneath you. His hips raise slightly, desperate for some kind of friction that you refuse to give. All you can smell is his sweet perfume and feel his soft skin.

Jeongguk whimpers your name and you can feel your pussy throbbing, surprised that you’re not leaking all over his bare thigh.

“Fuck,” he groans, thrusting up. Jeongguk’s boxers are so thin so you can feel the defined bulge pressing into your bare mound and you almost falter from how thick and big it feels.

It’s been a few weeks since you’ve had a dick inside you and you are really craving it. Sure, you have toys that could easily help but Jeongguk is bigger than your biggest one. Suddenly, that 7 inch vibrator simply won’t cut it.

Clenching around nothing, you pull away from his neck. “You can open your eyes now,” exhaling heavily.

Jeongguk follows. Your eyes connect and it’s electric. Sizzling tension, blood pumping deep in your veins, breaths mingling. Two seconds go, passing atypically slowly, and then he moves.

Jeongguk makes the first move connecting your lips, taking you by surprise, but you kiss him back and try to match his vigor. He kisses you with passion and wanton, controlling you like he might never get another chance to taste you. Gets your heart thumping loudly in your chest.

Especially when his fingers curl around your ass, squeezing roughly to earn a gasp of rapture, and his tongue sneaks in and runs deep along yours.

Questioning if he was totally a sub? Yeah, you don’t know about that.

Getting strong switch vibes from him.

Jeongguk gets up from the bed after wrapping your legs around his waist, turning around and laying you down on the bed. Your lips break apart for a split second but Jeongguk changes the moment your back touches the mattress, as if he can’t live without your kisses. You moan at his eagerness, realizing he has yet to look at your full set yet and is going crazy over just kissing you.

Fingers wind in his soft silky hair, tongues mingling in your mouth. It’s wet and messy and vulgar, teeth clacking, but you don’t have it in you to care.

He breaks the kiss again to kiss the corner of your lips, your cheek and then your jaw before pulling away and finally looks down while hovering over you.

Watching Jeongguk’s expression change is like high art.

You swear his eyes get darker, a vein on his neck bulges. “Jesus,” he grits. One hand begins at your sternum and slithers down where your breasts threaten to spill out of the flimsy thing. Jeongguk’s thumb traces over your pert nipple, causing you to twitch at the brief stimulation. “You look so fucking hot.”

“Yeah?”

Jeongguk nods, sitting up a little so he’s kneeling between your spread legs. “Like a goddess.” His eyes take you in, eating up every inch of skin he can see. “A beautiful, sexy, amazing goddess.”

You smirk, bending your leg some more to expose more of yourself to him. His gaze dips down to your bare cunt, wet and swollen for him and you swear you see his jaw set.

“You’re talking like you wanna worship me,” you joke cornily. Honestly, you’re too taken aback by the way Jeongguk is looking at you to cringe but thankfully he doesn’t say anything against it.

“I think I do.” Is his response.

Barely processing it, Jeongguk lifts you up by your calves, resting them on his shoulders and leaning down. Your stomach flips, you gasp, trembling slightly as Jeongguk begins to leave hickeys on the soft flesh of your inner thigh along with occasional bite marks.

Is he going to do what you think he is? Does he even know how? It’s been ages since someone went down on you. Most men simply don’t know how or care to learn.

You think Jeongguk is the opposite. He isn’t pleasuring you for himself but because he wants you to feel good so if you don’t like something, he’ll fix it.

But still, eating girls out is apparently something only girls can do properly. Nayeon is a firm believer in that.

Your head tilts back with each teasing mark making you wetter and wetter. He’s certainly building up the anticipation correctly so you’ll give him a point for that. Soon you’re throbbing so bad from how sexy Jeongguk looks with his dark hair between your thighs and kiss-bruised lips that you almost beg for his mouth on you.

“Pretty,” Jeongguk growls, reaching closer to your dripping core. “Prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen.” The muscles in his back flex and you can feel them against your calves. “Can I?”

You don’t even hesitate. He’s inches away from you and you don’t think you can go another second without his touch. “Please Guk.”

He doesn’t waste another second leaning down and licking a fat stripe up your core, making your legs twitch around his head. His tongue is flat and wide starting from your entrance all the way to your clit, tasting you once and groaning immediately after.

“Shit,” you wince. Fingers getting stuck in Jeongguk’s hair. “Jeongguk.”

Embarrassingly, you almost grind on his face but Jeongguk keeps a tight hold on your hips as his mouth closes around your clit, sucking the bud a few times like he’s making out with you which has you groaning out. His nose bumps into your outer lips and you imagine that it would feel like heaven to grind back onto the bulbous tip while sitting on his face. Big noses are so hot for that reason in particular.

Jeongguk pulls back, gets up on his elbows a little to drop a fat blob of spit onto your pussy, watching it mix with your juices as you clench again. This time he notices your neediness and he chuckles darkly.

“Cute,” lips closing around your clit as he looks up at you. “Want my fingers in you badly, huh?”

“Yes.”

Jeongguk’s lips pull off with a loud pop. “How bad?” Digits tracing your soppy opening. At first you can’t formulate a response when he’s everywhere but the places you need him. So he removes all contact. “How bad do you need my fingers in this needy little pussy?”

Definitely not a sub. Definitely not a fucking sub–wow, okay.

“Badly,” grinding up into nothing, hips getting shoved back down. “I–I need you to fill me up. Please. I think about it so much. Your fingers feel so fucking good, Jeongguk. Made me cum so hard.”

You don’t lie. He’s got long fingers and is definitely the biggest you’ve had, easily reaching spots others have left dormant. You’re glad to fluff his ego on that considering how mind blowing that first orgasm was.

“I could tell,” he mutters slowly. “You came so fast,” lips closing around your clit again as you whine out. Jeongguk continues speaking. “Like a good girl”

You can’t even respond to that, can’t even begin to fathom what praise from him does to you or how you must be gushing all over your sheets right now. Jeongguk’s middle finger inches in while his tongue and mouth focus directly on your swollen clit and you lose all ability to formulate a proper sentence.

Flicking the sensitive bud back and forth at an animalistic pace while his finger slowly pushes in and out of you is where you fucking lose it. Head thrown back, thighs trembling, moaning out garbled versions of his name and breathy swears.

This is it. Better than anything else you’ve had. This combination floods you with pleasure coiling in the pit of your stomach and your muscles going rigid.

“Fuck yes–yes, just like that,” you whimper some more, using your grip on Jeongguk’s hair to tug him in further. Big mistake. “Don’t stop—don’t fucking–no, no! Why did you–”

Your leg falls off Jeongguk’s shoulder and flops onto the bed. His nose and lips are shiny but his expression is hard. “Sit up.” He orders. Jaw set and clenched.

Part of you really wants to disobey, be brat because that always results in a good time, but you need to come and you need his touch back on you as soon as possible. Meekly, your legs curl in and you slowly sit up, getting on your knees and pouting at him.

Jeongguk takes the spot you were just laying down on, head meeting your pillow with a slight bounce. He motions for you to come closer then: “Face away from me.”

Oh.

Even better.

“Gonna have this perfect pussy right in front of me while you suck me off, okay?”

Swinging your leg over, you nod desperately, arching your back a little and leaning down. You’re interrupted with a light smack on your ass, causing you to moan out way too loudly. It almost sounds like a cry of pain but it’s far from that.

Jeongguk drops the act quickly. Gently reaching for you with soft hands on your hips. “Noona, are you ok–”

“I’m fine,” you gasp. “Do it again.” You push your ass out some more, bent over his body, staring back at him with tears of desire. “Please Jeongguk.”

He’s hesitant when he sits back down. You know he doesn’t want to hurt you but the way that the pain sizzled into pleasure coupled with how badly you want his hand print on you is far from hurt. It’s fucking warranted at this point.

Jeongguk spanks you once more, on the same cheek, and you flop down all limp on top of him. His teeth sink into the flesh of your thigh, spanking the other cheek much harder than before.

Arousal drips out of you and tracks down your skin. You feel needy and pathetic but in the best way possible.

“I fucking love your ass so much,” nails dig into the already sore flesh as he praises you lowly. Jeongguk’s arms curl around your back, tugging you close to him as he continues what he was doing to you. Tongue flicking your clit at an insane pace.

You can’t handle it. Even though his hard cock is inches away from you, you need a second to control yourself as the tingling sensation begins from your toes and starts creeping up.

Someone must’ve told him this or maybe he’s watched a ton of porn. Guys never eat you out like this. They move their tongue around and moan, thinking it’s enough, and get annoyed when you haven’t come. Some blame it on you and say that you’re the problem when it’s the complete opposite.

But Jeongguk breaches your entrance with two fingers in tandem with your tongue. Those long digits immediately find that g-spot and it’s fucking over, it’s done. You’re already there. You’re so wet and it’s echoing in your small studio apartment for the both of you to hear. The pleasure building up is rapid and way too fast.

After no action for days, you’re easy. The coil in your stomach gets tighter and tighter as Jeongguk’s fingers pound out of you and his tongue continues to play with that swollen bundle of nerves.

“C-close, I’m close–I’m gonna–” you feel it, the ball unravels and your legs go out. “I’m cumming!”

Faster than you’d like to admit. You start shaking, tears streaming down your face. Trying to muffle your noises on his thigh so you don’t get a fucking noise complaint.

“Good girl. So fucking pretty when you come like that,” his fingers slow down but they don’t pull out just yet. After such a hard orgasm, you would usually need a break but the slow pace just gets you needier. “Can you take another one, gorgeous?” Jeongguk asks.

Last time he touched you, you couldn't but now you want a second go. Besides, you want to return the favor too.

“Yeah, I can.”

With a slow pace and his mouth pressing timid little kisses on your wet thighs, Jeongguk leans back when you pull his boxers down and his length stands in front of you. Leaking and hard and so fucking big.

Now that you’ve come once, you lose all inhibition. You press a kiss to the wet tip, rounding up saliva in your mouth to lick up all of the cloudy salty precum before sinking down and taking in just the tip. He’s thick so your jaw has to stretch a bit but you definitely don’t mind that.

“Fuck,” Jeongguk whispers, licking another stripe to clean you up, gets you jolting and him laughing.

He’s so atypically cocky, something you’ve never found attractive until now. It’s warranted cockiness. Ate you out like a fucking champ and has a dick big enough to make you question whether or not you can take it all. Yeah, Jeongguk can have a bit of an ego.

But only a bit.

You fold your thumb into your clenched fist and squeeze lightly to stop your gag reflex for a bit. Allowing you to take almost all of his length into your mouth. Jeongguk’s hips raise a bit to help you so it doesn’t pierce through the back of your throat completely but just until your nose meets the base of his length.

“Mmh,” he moans, feeling his chest heave against your body. Jeongguk mumbles some more praise, calls you the most prettiest girl, leans forward to get his mouth back on you, and the dance begins again.

Gently, Jeongguk fucks your mouth while you grind back into his. The pace isn’t fast and hectic like before nor is it any bit graceful but neither of you seem to care.

Each thrust is awarded with a burst of precum and your thighs shake with every hit against your sensitive spot. The air gets hot and sticky, filled with the scent of sex and adrenaline. The sounds of your wet mouth and wet pussy along with Jeongguk’s whiny noises are noises you could hear for the rest of your life and never get bored of.

This is all you want. Him and his hands and his mouth and just him.

This sweet boy who held you so close and listened and makes you cum better than anyone else had.

Even after the second time, as your arousal drenches his fingers so much they prune as you release and he shoots his load down your throat, it hits you like a punch in the face just how much Jeongguk has ruined you.

Because after this, no other man will compare.

#jungkook x reader #nerdjungkook #jungkook fanfic #jungkook smut #gamerjungkook #bts fanfiction #thereboundgirl #bts smut #bts x reader #smut series

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