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justfandomwritings · 2 years

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Who Did This To You? (Hangman)

Pairing: Hangman x Female!Reader (no use of y/n)

Word Count: 10.2k because I have no self control

Summary: In your most vulnerable hour, Jake 'Hangman' Seresin is the one to find you, and the one to ask you the ultimate question. "Who did this to you?"

Warnings: Mentions of Abuse and DV (NOT committed by Jake), nongraphic description of resulting injuries, a very one-sided bar fight, mention that a character is going to therapy, insults and confrontation by a past abuser. (This story is a who did this to you trope. While it is only dealing with the 'who did this to you' aftermath of what was done, please keep that in mind.)

Notes: This is just an excuse to write the who did this to you trope. This is self indulgence at its finest.

“Who did this to you?”

Your head shot up a little too quickly at the unexpected company, and the world began to spin all over again. With a groan, you laid your head back on the bartop, hoping the flat wood would help the world right itself faster.

You’d been lying there with your forehead pressed on the cool wood of the bar, sitting directly under an air vent, for the better part of thirty minutes. The Hard Deck’s AC was working overtime to keep the heat outside, and the rush of cold air blowing down the back of your shirt was doing wonders for your sore arms and back.

“Hurricane, who did this to you?”

You hadn’t been expecting anyone to be there. Everyone else was down at the beach. You thought you’d have some time alone to lick your wounds and cover your bruises and emotionally recover from what had happened that morning. Penny was too busy watching Maverick. The aviators were too engrossed in a new game Maverick had invented called dogfight volleyball, and the bar was technically closed at this hour. You thought you could slip by and start your shift sight unseen.

“Hurricane,” The voice was firm, but not demanding. Underwritten with a tone of concern that was very uncommon to that particular voice. “Hurricane,” it repeated.

You opened your eyes and rolled your head to lay facing the voice’s direction and made eye contact with Hangman.

You knew it was him before you turned, but for some reason you still did.

Backlit by the sun’s rays bouncing off his perfect golden hair with an open button-up billowing in the sea breeze, he stood in sharp contrast to your current state. Like an angel stepping out of heaven and into hell.

In some ways, this was your worst case scenario. Hangman was definitely not your favorite pilot and was very close to your least, and he was certainly not your friend. You were at best frenemies and even that was a stretch. The pair of you had been constantly bickering and making snide comments behind the other’s backs since practically the moment you made eye contact with each other. He intentionally made your life difficult behind the bar, and you rang the bell on him on multiple occasions.

He was responsible for everyone calling you Hurricane. You’d come crashing through the doors on your first day working at the Hard Deck with a torrential downpour following you in from outside. A drowned cat would’ve looked less soaked through and pathetic than you, and the moment Penny introduced you to the squad, he’d made a snide remark about the Hurricane you brought with you. The rest was history. It became like a callsign to them; your name long forgotten by most. The only pilot who didn’t call you Hurricane now was Bob, and it ground your gears just a little bit more every time you heard it.

On the other hand, this might’ve been the best case scenario. Hangman wasn’t someone who was going to make a big show of this. He wouldn’t rush down to the beach and ask for help. He wouldn’t fawn over you or ask you if you were okay a million times. He wouldn’t expect you to cry on his shoulder and incessantly pick at you until you broke down.

“Who did this to you?” Hangman took a step in from where he’d frozen in the door out to the patio.

His expression was like his voice, hard and firm with undertones of the worry that anyone would be feeling in this situation. Hangman wasn’t the nicest guy you knew, but you knew from the other pilots stories of the many times he’d saved their lives that he wasn’t evil, and you didn’t doubt for a moment that he’d at least be somewhat concerned even if he didn’t care particularly for you.

“You already know who.”

It was true. Devin had been in the bar about once a week for the last six months that you’d been dating. He’d made the rounds through the aviators, none of whom particularly liked him but all of whom had been polite enough not to say anything… except Hangman.

The second Devin left after his first introductions, Hangman had made his distaste known. ‘Something’s off about that guy,’ he’d said before the door even closed. Phoenix had teased him about being jealous that his snarky banter was no longer the center of your world, but you’d seen it for what it was. A combination of being angry he wasn’t the center of attention and looking to defy you at every turn that was a uniquely Hangman blend.

Hangman approached you slowly, taking one deliberate step at a time. Every step with such obvious forethought that it gave you the time and the option to back away. A detail you wouldn’t have expected from such an ego-centric man.

You didn’t back away. Hangman was a lot of things, most of them negative, but you could say with absolute certainty that you weren’t afraid of him. For all the times you’d yelled at him, you’d never been scared of his physicality, and for all the times he'd yelled at you, his hand had never so much as twitched.

Standing beside you, under the harsh glare of the fluorescent lights that threw your skin into sharp relief, Hangman had a full view of the damage.

“That fucker,” his voice was a harsh, raspy whisper, “I’m gonna kill him.” His hand seemed to lift of its own accord. Flat, open palmed and always within your line of sight, he reached up and stroked his fingers along your cheekbone with a feather-light touch.

“I already dumped him.” You don’t know why you felt like explaining yourself to Hangman of all people, but maybe it was the determination in his eyes. The way he stared down at your cheek like his eyes could will the twing of pain away.

Hangman gave a half-hearted, inattentive nod. “That’s certainly a start.” He looked like gears were turning in his head, like he hadn’t given up on his first idea.

A flood of memories came back to you.

‘The only active duty pilot with a confirmed air-to-air kill.’ Coyote, introducing Hangman.

‘We call him Bagman, cause he’ll kill anyone and get anyone killed. He doesn’t seem to mind.’ Omaha commenting on Hangman’s aim at the dartboard.

‘That’s his second air-to-air kill.’ Bob, telling you what he could about the mission they’d just come back from.

‘Hangman’s deadly in the sky. I wouldn’t wanna cross him.’ Rooster, finally being honest about what he thought of Hangman, after the blonde saved his life.

Hangman had killed before, and in his line of work, with his level of skill, likely would again. He definitely didn’t mean what he said, certainly not literally. He wasn’t about to rush out to his truck and go hunting Devin in the streets, but it wasn’t something he of all people would say entirely jokingly either.

You slowly sat up in your chair. The world was spinning less now. Whether that was because the nausea was finally passing or because Hangman’s hand stayed on your cheek, grounding you in the moment, it was unclear. “I appreciate your concern,” you hedged, “but really, I’m fine. I can handle myself.”

Hangman snorted and let his hand fall away. “Obviously you can; you already kicked his ass to the curb on your own. Doesn’t mean I’m not gonna kill him for good measure.” Hangman hopped up on the bar and swung his legs over.

You probably should’ve objected to his comfort level invading your workspace. Penny was very explicit that no one was allowed behind the bar who didn’t work there and even more explicit that that applied to all naval aviators. Somehow, though, you doubted Hangman would rat you out, at least not today.

“Are you going to tell Penny?” Hangman mozied around behind the bar, picking up a rag and tossing it over his shoulder. He was looking for something, but he didn’t seem inclined to ask. You weren’t any more inclined to offer.

It would’ve broken whatever moment was passing between you. Caring? Camaraderie? You weren’t sure, but there was certainly some level of understanding that remained largely unspoken.

Hangman found what he was looking for in short order anyway. He flipped open the ice cooler and pulled the rag off his shoulder, filling it with a scoop of ice and tying the ends.

“Not now,” you were disinclined to bring it up to Penny.

The Hard Deck was a Navy bar, and Penny had made a lot of powerful friends. Hell, you had a lot of powerful friends if you were willing to use them; one of them, or at least a powerful person who was willing to help you, was standing right in front of you. You could only imagine what would happen to Devin if you told anyone. All of it would be deserved of course, but you doubted most of it would be legal. And that really wasn’t what you needed right now, and you weren’t ready to have that conversation anyway.

“Hold this to your cheek. You wanna get the swelling down,” In a reversal of roles, he leaned against the bar in the place that was normally yours and offered you his makeshift ice pack.

You took it with a quiet, “Thank you.”

Hangman nodded with a thoughtful expression, watching your hand raise it to your cheek, “I’ll let you tell them in your own time, but you’re going to go to someone to help you through this until then… professionally.”

It wasn’t a question. He wasn’t leaving room for debate. It was an order as plain as any he got in the Navy.

You nodded wordlessly against the ice pressed to your face. It was a reasonable expectation, a reasonable request. You weren’t sure if you needed it or not, but you supposed that was the point. You weren’t sure. Better to go too soon than too late.

“Good,” Hangman sighed, seeming relieved, and pushed off the bar. His muscles flexed with the motion, bulging against the short sleeves of his open button-up shirt. They remained tense as he crossed his arms over his chest. His teeth gritted behind his closed lips. “I’ll keep him out of the bar.”

“Hangman, you really don’t have to-”

“He hurt you.” Hangman cut you off with a dismissive wave of his hand. He looked serious, deadly serious. “That’s all I need to know. He’s not welcome here anymore.”

Before you had the chance to respond, not that you were entirely sure how you would, Hangman’s eyes left yours, staring at something over your shoulder out towards the beach.

“Do you have any makeup for that cheek?”

Your head turned, and you saw the outlines of Penny and Mav, arm in arm, making their way back to the bar. “Yeah,” you replied, “But my shoulder is a different story. I need to go find…”

Hangman jerked his button up off his shoulders and balled it up, tossing it across the bar to you. “Go quick. Put this on.”

“Hangman, I-”

“Go.” Hangman urged, and you ran off before Penny could see the two of you.

—------------------------------------------------

Your phone kept buzzing in your pocket, but you didn’t have time to check it.

You thought you knew what it was. Phoenix demanding to know why one of Jake Seresin’s shirts was wrapped around your shoulders. Hangman’s weren’t as distinctive as Bradley’s, usually solid colors with a barely-there logo on the pocket. None of the guys had noticed you were wearing it, but you knew Phoenix had the moment she came back in from the beach. She’d shot you a disappointed, skeptical look and immediately begun whispering to Bob as they walked away with their drinks.

Penny hadn’t been much better. She hadn’t identified which pilots’ shirt it was like Phoenix clearly had, but she was two steps away from asking when the evening rush began to pour in without any sign of slowing down.

The Hard Deck was slam-packed, and none of the bartenders had a second to spare. The newest class of TopGun recruits were graduating within a week, and it seemed that everyone had turned out for the upcoming occasion.

The bar was crowded with faces new and old. All of the graduating pilots were scattered around, and most of their instructors had made their way in at some point. Some of the pilots had families, wives and girlfriends, who had flown in and accompanied them to the bar that night. There were more than a few old friends in town to visit or siblings using the graduation as an excuse to get away.

Even most of Mav’s squadron was there. Penny’s old flame had claimed a spot by one of the dart boards, and his lieutenants were all taking turns trying to dethrone Hangman as the king of darts. Normally, they would have migrated to the pool tables by now, but the bar was too crowded for even TopGun’s finest to leverage their way into skipping the line to have a game.

One of the soon-to-be graduates hunkered down at the bar, some asshole who was billing himself as the new and improved Hangman, kept snapping his fingers at you to try to get your attention from behind the bar. You were dangerously close to ringing the bell on him the next time he did it, and Penny’s fingers were clearly itching to do the same. Tragically, neither of you thought that was a very good idea. Tonight might’ve been the one night where it was simply too busy to ring the bell.

There were so many people you couldn’t see past the sea of bodies pressing in around you, and it was a miracle that you didn’t bolt from the claustrophobia.

Marg after marg. Old fashioned after old fashioned. Beer after beer. The line never seemed to stop, and it was taking its toll on you. Tonight was simply not your night.

“Go,” Penny’s hand touched your shoulder and made you jump, spilling some of the tequila shot you were trying to hand off. “I’ll clean that. You look like you need a break. Take five.”

Normally on a busy night, you would’ve protested, insisted you could hold down the fort and done your best to help Penny push through the rush, but not that night.

Your shoulders slumped in relief, and you ducked under the gap in the bar without much of a second thought, pushing your way through the people towards the door to the kitchen. There was a ‘broken’ stool by the door to the kitchen that was in fact not broken at all but had a sign taped to it that said it was specifically so it was open for when workers were on break. The seat provided some much needed relief for your aching feet and even more aching shoulders.

Shaking cocktails was really aggravating the bruises just beneath the button up wrapped around your shoulders, and you found yourself hurting almost twice as much as normal this shift. That might’ve been why you felt like you were moving in slow motion the whole time. That or the sheer number of people had simply made the task seem insurmountable.

You were just closing your eyes and leaning back against the wall when your phone in your pocket buzzed again.

It wasn’t really a conscious decision to check it, more habit than anything else. And really, you hadn’t expected it to be anything that bad. You hadn’t heard from him all day.

But there it was. His name. His name a half a dozen times over the course of your shift. Each text progressively more urgent and pressing than the last.

‘I’m still coming to pick you up from work.’

Bile rose up in your throat, and you suppressed the overwhelming urge to bolt. The room was suddenly too hot and too crowded, and there were too many faces. Faces you recognized and faces you didn’t. A wash of faces that was the perfect place for him to hide, to wait, to lurk around for the opportune moment to reveal himself.

You couldn’t do this, couldn’t deal with this. Not here. Not now. Not in front of all these people. Not alone.

You did the first thing that came to mind.

It was stupid really. You couldn’t explain why it occurred to you, why you acted on it so immediately, why you thought it was a good idea at all. It probably wasn’t; it could just as easily have backfired in your face as anything else. But your gut told you it was what you should do. Really, your gut didn’t so much tell you as wrench you in that direction with an undeniable force.

“Hey can I talk to you for a sec?”

Hangman was an easy man to find, even despite the crowd, strutting around the dart boards like he owned the place, which he very nearly did, rubbing the other pilots noses in his shots that were somehow better blindfolded than theirs were with sight.

You interrupted him boasting loudly to Fanboy and Payback about how he didn’t even need to practice. Perfect marksmanship just came naturally to him. The rest of the pilots were all gathered at the high tops near the darts boards, mostly rolling their eyes. They were having some kind of tournament, or rather a competition to see if anyone could take Hangman down.

Payback seemed almost too happy for the interruption, but Fanboy was a bit more perceptive, at least at the moment. Fanboy’s eyes darted away to Phoenix’s table, and you saw the jerk of his head when he caught her eye. Funneling the female aviator’s attention in the direction of what was unfolding.

You, wearing Hangman’s shirt since he disappeared for half an hour earlier that day, asking to talk to him alone near the end of your shift. You knew exactly what it looked like.

“Sure.” Hangman’s tone was completely casual, not giving anything away, but when his back turned on his companions, his eyes were burning. You quickly looked away from his gaze and led him from the group.

“I wasn’t checking my phone.” The words were tumbling out of your mouth the moment he was out of the others’ earshot. You didn’t even bite your tongue long enough to turn around. “He’s been texting me my entire shift. He was supposed to be my ride home tonight, and I think he might show up soon.”

When you faced Hangman, you knew the panic in your voice and in your eyes was painfully obvious. Now that you were semi-alone with him, with someone who knew, there was no hiding how much it jarred you. Your hands fumbled with your phone trying to show him the flood of texts you’d gotten, unnoticed, over the last two hours.

Hangman didn’t look down even as you turned the phone to show him. His jaw was already clenched; his expression was agitated, visibly angry. His eyes weren’t looking at you or the phone. They were searching the faces in the crowd similar to the way yours had only moments before though far more thorough. The honed, trained eye of a military fighter pilot meticulously picked through the crowd for its target, finding nothing.

“Could you…” You hesitated to ask. It was such a ridiculous request. Just yesterday, Hangman would’ve been your absolute last choice to be in this position with; you would’ve risked handling it alone before asking for his help. But here he was. The only one who knew. The first one you asked. “I’ll give you a round on the house for it. I just… Would you mind giving me a ride home? I don’t want to stumble on him alone.”

Hangman didn’t hesitate or pull his eyes from where they continuously scanned the crowd, as if his gaze alone was enough to keep a threat at bay. “No beers required, Hurricane.” The words seemed to be coming out of his mouth even as you offered. Like he’d already decided what he was going to do the minute you told him the problem. “Wait here a sec? I’ll handle it.”

Hangman walked the short distance over to the bar, glancing back over his shoulder at you every few steps like he was making sure you hadn’t disappeared, and flagged down Penny. Something on his face must’ve told her it was urgent because she forwent several regulars and big tippers demanding drinks to beeline towards him. He leaned over the bar and whispered something in her ear, gesturing back in your direction.

Penny looked concerned, and she nodded along with what Hangman was saying until he turned to leave.

“If Penny asks,” Hangman put a hand on your shoulder, a firm grip holding you to his side as he led you through the throng of people towards the exit, “a guy was bothering you, and I drove you home cause you were scared of him.”

“Not entirely a lie,” You mumbled, shifting closer into Hangman’s side.

No one tried to stop you. No hands reached out for you. No one called out your name. You made it through entirely unscathed. You could feel eyes on you, but they didn’t raise the hairs on the back of your neck. You doubted, highly, that they were Devin’s. More likely, Hangman’s squadron were watching him retreat from the bar with you under his arm without so much as a goodbye. More likely, they were plotting and planning the questions they were going to hound the two of you with the next time they saw you. More likely, Phoenix was pointing out to everyone that you were wearing Hangman’s shirt.

—------

“Does he have a key?” Hangman didn’t break the silence until he’d turned onto your block, until he’d brought his truck to a slow crawl, looking for your tiny, inconsequential cookie cutter house in a row of tiny, inconsequential cookie cutter houses.

Yours was pretty much the only house without a Navy flag or Navy paraphernalia of some description sitting in the yard or stuck to a car in the driveway. The neighborhood was not far from the Hard Deck which was not far from the base, and the tiny houses geared towards first-time-buyers were crawling with Navy pilots and newlywed military couples who wanted to live offbase.

You were on the second sidestreet, the third house on the left. Hangman already knew the way without instruction. Penny had conned every Top Gun pilot with a car into driving you home at least a couple times. And while Hangman was usually the pilot she was least willing to ask, he was also the only one who was guaranteed to always be sober.

His question came out very sober. His usual lilting, teasing tone had dropped off somewhere today and never fully returned.

“He did. He… he told me he lost it, but…” You both knew better than to believe that.

Hangman pulled into your driveway and flicked the truck into park and turned it off. “Tomorrow I’ll drive you to the hardware store, and we’ll change the locks.”

“You don’t have to…”

“Do you feel safe with him having a key?” Hangman cut you off. He was looking down at you with just a touch of condescension, so classically Hangman. Like he knew the answer already, like he knew you knew the answer already, and that you were silly if you pretended not to or refused him.

You knew where this was going, and you thought about lying, just to relieve Hangman of whatever false sense of duty or obligation he had imposed on himself by being the one to find you at the Hard Deck. But it was way too late. Hangman wasn’t stupid, but he was incredibly, irritatingly stubborn. And he’d already set his mind to helping you through this. “No.”

“Then tomorrow morning I’ll change the locks.” Hangman threw his door open and hopped out of the truck. It slammed closed behind him as he circled around to your side. You made to open your door, but Hangman beat you to it. “Alarm services are expensive,” He continued, offering you a hand, “but they make door jammers that have sound alarms on them at least, and my sister bought some cheap window versions a while back that I could help install.”

You took Hangman’s hand and dumbly followed him up to your door as he rambled on about extra door locks and doorbell cameras. All options that you could pick up tomorrow for him to put in.

“That’s too much effort,” You halfheartedly protested as you spun your keys around trying to find the one to your front door.

There really weren’t that many keys. There were a couple to the Hard Deck, one to the shed where Penny kept beach supplies, and one to Devin’s place that you hadn’t returned. They were all distinct shapes and colors, but you couldn’t seem to focus long enough to find the plain silver key to your own door. Maybe because you knew there was another one, exactly like it, somewhere across town at that moment.

“Not if it makes you feel safe.” Hangman leaned back against your door frame, his eyes skimming up and down your block as if he was still on alert in the crowded bar, still looking for signs of trouble, signs of him.

“Would you…” Your words trailed off as you watched his darting eyes. The question came bubbling up before you could stop it, before you even really thought of it. It was less a question and more a response to his vigilance, to the thought that his vigilance might be warranted and necessary.

“Would I…?” Hangman didn’t let it go. His eyes turned to look at you.

You chewed at your bottom lip, debating if it was worth asking, debating if it was necessary.

He probably thought it was, if his mannerisms were any indication, if his talk about alarms was any indication, if walking you to your door and watching your back were any indication.

“Would you come in?”

Hangman raised a doubtful eyebrow, sure you didn’t mean what those words usually meant.

“Not like that, it’s just… You’re right. He probably still has a key, and if we can’t fix it till the morning…”

Understanding seemed to wash over his face, and Hangman kicked himself up off the door jam. “If it’ll help,” he immediately conceded. “I’ll sleep on your couch.”

“It…” You hesitated, but only for a moment. “I think it would.”

The silence inside your home was almost palpable. It was late enough that going to bed wouldn’t have been awkward for either of you, but neither of you were tired. And neither of you seemed up to faking being tired just to get away.

Hangman sat on one end of the couch, and you sat on the other. At some point, you mustered the effort to turn on the tv. The local news was a quiet, bland drone of background noise cutting through the still air around the two of you.

You felt like you should say something. Maybe ‘should’ wasn’t the right word; maybe you wanted to say something. But either way you didn’t know where to begin.

You had only ever been alone with Hangman when he was dropping you off as a favor to Penny, times that were filled with snarky jokes and constant nagging from both of you, and earlier that day in the bar. You weren’t close. You weren’t friends. You were barely acquaintances. He was only here because he was in the right (or wrong, depending how you looked at it) place at the right time.

“Thank you,” That seemed like a good place to start. “For today, thank you.”

“You have nothing to thank me for.” Hangman countered quickly. His eyes stayed on the tv, though they were clearly out of focus staring at the screen.

“I do though. You could’ve told everyone.”

“You weren’t ready for that.” He added it under his breath, countering without cutting you off.

“You could’ve left me to finish out my shift.”

“Not with him coming to the bar.”

“You could’ve left after you dropped me off.”

“He has a key.”

“You could’ve turned and walked out the door when you first saw me at the bar.”

Hangman let out a heavy sigh, not of annoyance or exasperation but a sigh weighed down with duty and concern. “No, I couldn’t.”

Your eyes met his over the center of the couch, and a breath rushed out of your lungs under the intensity in his gaze.

—-------------------------------------

You woke up in your bed, mouth open, with more than a little drool pooling on your pillow.

You had no memory of falling asleep there, of getting into bed, of going to your room at all.

You remember being on the couch, talking to Hangman. You remembered the way his eyes, intense, open, and honest, compelled you to speak. The way you couldn’t bite back the story pouring from your lips. The story of Devin asking you out, of falling for him in those early weeks, of how he changed after you committed to him. The story of what he did that night, of his buddies who sat back and did nothing, of the jokes you heard the three of them cracking as you ran from the room.

You remembered Hangman crossing the space between you and putting a hand on your arm, how cautious he was touching you, how much time he left you to pull away, how gentle his touch was against your skin. You remembered throwing yourself into his lap, sobbing into his shoulder as he held you against his chest and rubbed soothingly up and down your back, whispering promises that that asshole would never hurt you again.

You didn’t remember anything after that. You must’ve fallen asleep in his lap.

Sitting up, you found the answer to your unasked question.

A folded piece of notebook paper sitting on the pillow next to you:

‘Thought the bed would be preferable to sharing the couch with me. If I’m wrong and you wake up in the middle of the night and don’t want to be alone, you can always wake me up. If not, I’ll have coffee ready for you in the morning. - Jake.’

As you read, his words the night before echoed in your head to the beat of a nonexistent drum as you read the note once, then twice, then a third time.

‘No, I couldn’t.’

You carefully folded the paper up and tucked it in the top drawer of your bedside table.

True to his word, Hangman was wide awake, standing in your kitchen pouring himself a cup of coffee when you walked out of your room.

“H-Hi,” you stuttered.

Last night, in the comfort of darkness, with exhaustion clouding over your mind and his arms holding you close, it had seemed the most logical thing in the world to open up to Hangman. And with the light of day glinting through the windows, with him dressed in the button up he’d wrapped around you the day before, with him lounging back against your counter as he sipped from your favorite mug, with an overconfident air that was too comfortable for any normal person’s first time in your home… It was odd to think that feeling hadn’t changed, that you still felt able to bare your soul to him, that you didn’t feel a need to run back into your room and get changed or freshen up, that you were perfectly comfortable being seen by him like this, a tired quaking mess with puffy red eyes.

Part of you expected to walk out into your kitchen to an epiphany that you’d made a horrible mistake, that Hangman was exactly as much of a cocky asshole as you thought he was two days ago. But the epiphany never came.

“Morning,” Hangman took a sip of coffee and set the mug aside. He looked casual, at peace, like this was just another day, like he’d done this a million times. “I’m ready to go whenever you are. I found the toolbox in the bottom of your coat closet. Hope you don’t mind. We’ll probably need a few things if we’re gonna do anything more than replace the locks.”

“Y-Yeah,” You grabbed a mug off the drying rack and crossed the room to pour yourself a cup of coffee from the pot beside him, your shoulder brushing passed his as you poured. “Sounds good.”

“Hey.” Hangman seemed to immediately pick up that something was plaguing your mind. He didn’t reach out for you like last night, quite the opposite. He took a step away and turned to face you, crossin his arms over his chest, “If you want to be alone, I’ll head out. I’ll go to the store, pick up the locks, and change them myself. You can have time to yourself if you need it.”

“No,” You immediately countered his obvious misinterpretation of your mood. “I-I don’t think I want to be alone. I’m just… antsy I guess.”

He didn’t seem to fully buy it, but he let your excuse hang. “Okay then, we’ll head out when you’re ready.”

—----------------------

All day, as Hangman worked around your house first changing the locks then installing alarms then fixing a window that wouldn’t lock and then righting a wobbly chair leg that had absolutely nothing to do with your safety, neither of you mentioned the note he left or you crying in his arms or falling asleep on his lap or his quiet ‘No, I couldn’t’.

—--------------------------

You made a vow to yourself when Hangman finally left your house late Saturday afternoon. You were never going to ring up his card at the Hard Deck again. It couldn’t really repay what he’d done for you, the feeling of safety he’d brought to you in what was probably your most vulnerable moment so far on this earth, but you knew he wouldn’t want anything more showy. Hangman loved being the center of attention, but somehow you knew he wouldn’t want attention for this.

True to your vow, the next Saturday evening, Hangman was on his third beer and had, unwittingly on his part, not paid a dime.

The Hard Deck was far less crowded that night. The graduating Top Gun candidates had all flown away, and only those currently stationed at the base, mostly Maverick’s squad, and some locals remained. A few dozen patrons milled around a room far larger than they needed with maybe a dozen pressed up to the bar. Most of the dozen fell under your responsibilities at the moment. Penny had, unintentionally, abandoned you not long before when Maverick had wandered in and taken up his usual stool.

Omaha and Halo, the first aviators to arrive, had claimed one of the pool tables early in the night, and the rest of the squad had started rotating through matchups. It appeared Fritz was on a hot streak, one that was no doubt about to end as his next opponent in line was Hangman.

All seemed right with the world. The constant buzz of voices, the crooning of the Goo Goo Dolls song that Bob had selected on the jukebox, the ready flow of beer to your usual patrons. Everything was fine.

Until the door opened one last time. Not that places of business ever ‘expected’ anyone because they hardly sent out invitations to come buy beer, but you really weren’t expecting anyone else that night. All the regulars were already inside.

The door banging against the wall as it was flung open was enough to draw your surprised eyes up to the entryway.

Face lit by the sun setting over the beach through the windows on the opposite wall, he was unmistakable as he marched into view flanked by his two buddies. They immediately began scanning the room.

Your breath rushed out of your lungs, exhaling in a gust that you couldn’t hold back any more than the wind.

No, no, no. He wasn’t here. He couldn’t be here. He couldn’t confront you here. He couldn’t corner you alone.

There was no time to think, no time to check with Penny if it was ok to leave your station, no time to get to the door or bolt out the back.

‘I’ll keep him out of the bar.’

It was your first instinct when you saw the text the weekend before, and it was your first instinct when you saw him that night.

“Hurricane?” Penny called after you as, without so much as a word in her direction, you ducked under the gap in the bar and made a beeline for the pool tables.

You barely heard her, and if you did, it didn’t register.

“Jake,” his real name leaving your lips was enough to draw most of his coworkers’ attention, all those in earshot at least. You grabbed his arm the second he was within reach, inadvertently clawing his skin with your nails as you pulled him up from where he was hunched over the pool table lining up a shot.

Jake laughed and shrugged off your arm before he even turned around and saw who it was. “Hey,” he rubbed at the red marks in his skin, “I was just…”

The words died on his lips when he turned and saw the panic in your eyes. It was brimming up inside you, overflowing and choking you off from every other sensation except the desperation for Jake to understand.

He knew better than anyone that there was only one thing that could make you look like that, feel like that. His head jerked up immediately in the direction of the door, as if he could sense the direction of the impending doom.

You watched the lighthearted smirk that constantly plagued his lips fall away. You watched the light in his eyes cloud over in darkness. As his gaze went up over your shoulder to the door, where one of the three men with angry expressions and dark eyes spotted your back amongst the khaki uniforms and began moving.

Jake’s arm twisted in your grip and grabbed you by the elbow, jerking you unceremoniously behind his back. There was no time for pleasantries, no time to be nice about whatever he was about to do.

“Fanboy, stay with her.” Jake ordered over his shoulder to the nearest aviator. His gaze didn’t waiver from the three men approaching, even as he issued commands.

Most of the aviators in Mav’s squad were scattered around the room. Mav was at the bar talking with Penny and Halo. Fanboy and Coyote had been watching Hangman school Fritz, who was being hyped up by Payback. Rooster was at a table not far from the pool game talking to a pretty girl. And Phoenix and Bob were half spectating from their perch by the jukebox discussing something that had gone wrong in a training run that afternoon.

Fanboy caught you and held you up as Jake pushed you in his direction. “What’s going on?”

Jake didn’t answer. He side-stepped in front of you, half blocking you from view, and walked to the edge of the pool area. There was a buffer zone between himself and you. He was the first line of defense, and he was giving the second, Fanboy, room to react.

“You fucking bitch!” If Fanboy didn’t know what was going on before, he instantly caught on.

Fanboy’s arms tensed around yours. His back went rigged, as if a commanding officer had just called him to attention, and he curled away, pulling you back behind him and putting his body in front of you as a shield. Even with Fanboy hovering in the way, his body didn’t hide Devin’s eyes. They sought you out around Jake’s frame and over Fanboy’s shoulder; they found you huddled up behind the Navy uniforms and the fancy stars pinned to the pilots chests. No number of medals pinned to Jake’s chest could stop the chill that ran down your spine in response to the venom in Devin’s tone. You wanted to look away, but the daggers in his gaze skewered you in place, held you hostage.

You wanted to curl up and hide, preferably behind Jake... Well, preferably in a home far away from there wrapped in heavy blankets with many deadbolts between you and Devin with Jake vigilantly standing guard at the door.

Devin tried to walk straight past Jake, like he didn’t even see him. Jake wasn’t having any of it.

A thick, muscular arm stuck out across the length of Devin’s shoulders as he tried to pass, holding him back.

Devin wasn’t a very big guy. He was well toned, but he was no naval aviator. He was no Jake Seresin. Jake had about an inch on Devin, but his well built frame made up for their near identical height. Devin had never been one to hit the gym hard while Jake certainly was, and it showed. It showed in the way a single arm without so much as a brace didn’t move even as Devin walked straight into it.

If the rest of the bar weren’t looking when Devin shouted that you were a bitch, they certainly were when he glared up at Jake. “Out of the way you fucker!”

Jake getting out of the way was about the last thing you wanted to happen, and Jake seemed disinclined to oblige either. His arm didn’t move from where it blocked Devin’s path, even as Devin glowered up at him.

The staring match lasted only a moment before Devin, impatient as always, gave up and turned back to glaring at you. He shouted, unnecessarily loudly, across the minimal distance between the two of you, “You changed the locks on me?”

There was shuffling behind you and the sound of something clanging onto the pool table.

You couldn’t bring yourself to turn your head away from Devin, couldn’t look away, couldn’t let him out of your sight. But there was the sound of footsteps as first Coyote, then Fritz, then Payback came into range in your peripheral vision.

None of them knew what this was about, but it didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out where this was going. And any idiot could tell whose side they would be on in a fight between Jake and Devin.

“She didn’t. I did.” Jake declared at a similarly loud volume, pulling Devin’s attention back on him, demanding Devin shift his focus off of you. “You got a problem with that, you take it up with me.”

Devin took a step back, finally abandoning his futile attempt to confront you in favor of squaring up to Jake.

As Devin stepped back, the trio of pilots stepped forward. Fritz approached first, joining Fanboy in front of you. Payback followed after Fritz, lingering halfway between him and Jake, a bystander ready to step in if things got out of hand.

Coyote, however, had no questions about how any altercation would go down. His hand came down as he walked up behind Jake, slapping down reassuringly on Jake's shoulder to let him know he wasn’t alone. Coyote flanked Jake at such a close distance that it made it impossibly clear that, if this turned into a fight, it would not be three on one.

It wouldn’t even be three on two for that matter. Devin’s buddies, who had crossed the bar with him had hung back a few feet, giving Devin the space he wanted to scream at you or confront you or whatever else he had been planning before Jake intercepted. The duo found themselves with two bar tables between them and Devin. One of which was, ever so unfortunately for them, occupied by none other than Bradley Bradshaw and his drinking companion.

Devin’s friends would be forgiven for not realizing that they were offering up the chance to divide the group in half. Bradley, per usual, wasn’t in his Navy uniform, and a guy in a faded Hawaiian shirt didn’t exactly look intimidating. At least not while he was sitting down chatting up a pretty girl.

Seeing the escalation Coyote invited, and flashing his eyes to where you cowered behind his squadmates, Rooster got to his feet with a slow, lithe push off the table in front of him and turned his back on Devin. Not even bothering to give the belligerent asshole, currently one on two against Hangman and Coyote, the time of day, he turned his entire attention to the backup Devin brought with him.

Never in your life had you been scared of any of the naval aviators, but there was something especially intimidating about the incredibly casual way Bradley put himself alone in a fight against two men. His relaxed stance, completely unbothered by the numbers game he was playing. His head, cocking to one side to crack his neck, and then the other.

“You the latest pilot she’s spreading her legs for?” Devin snarled up at Jake, completely oblivious to what was going on behind him and unconcerned by Coyote’s presence.

Jake was entirely unphased. His voice was calm and steady even as Devin’s got more and more red with each passing moment. “No, but I am a friend. And if you have a problem with her you’re gonna have to go through me…” Jake added as an afterthought, “And him,” jerking his head to Coyote.

“You think she’ll fuck you if you play hero?” Devin spat out the word fuck as if the thought of you and sex in the same sentence disgusted him. “You don’t gotta try that hard to get her to spread.”

Jake shrugged and casually dismissed the comment. “That’s really not my business or yours.”

“She is my business; that’s my girl.”

Devin jabbed a finger over Jake’s shoulder in your direction without looking away from Jake, and you instinctively shrunk further back behind Fanboy. Until you felt the material between your fingers, you didn’t even realize that your hand had reached up to fist the back of Fanboy’s uniform.

You didn’t know, logically, why you were afraid. Whatever Jake was doing, he was doing a marvelous job of keeping Devin’s eyes off of you. You were absolutely certain that Devin would have to knock Jake out to get to you, not that he could even manage that. You were also absolutely certain that even if he did, he’d still have to make it through Rooster, Fanboy, Fritz, Payback, and Coyote, not to mention the dozen Navy guys from other squads currently spectating who would jump in to assist, or Penny or Mav. There was just something about his finger pointing at you, accusing you, that made that feeling of helplessness bubble up inside you again, that made you feel pinned, trapped under his hand.

“I’ll do whatever I want with her.”

It was like Jake knew or could sense your growing bubble of fear. He leaned ever so slightly to one side, like he was simply shifting his weight from foot to foot, before standing back up straight in between Devin’s finger and you.

“Not anymore.” Jake declared firmly. “You’re already about a mile closer to her than I want you to be.”

That declaration made Devin’s lips twist up into something akin to a smirk. “I’ve been a lot closer to her than this.”

Jake’s shoulders tensed, and for the first time it seemed like Devin got to him. “I know exactly how close you got.” His voice darkened, and you could practically picture the look in his eyes, practically knew it by heart from the night you told him what Devin had done. “Where I’m from, we don’t treat women like that.”

Devin laughed humorously, heading tilting back to let the single tone ring out in the air. “Well we aren’t where you’re from. That’s my girl, and I’ll do what I want with her.”

You shivered involuntarily, like someone had dropped an ice cube down the back of your shirt. It sent a chill through you to think of Devin alone with you, doing what he wanted with you. You remembered what he did the last time he had that power over you. You couldn’t let it happen again.

“No,” It took a moment to register that Jake was the one snarling, not Devin, not even you. The word came out in a hiss between his teeth. “You’ll do what she wants. And right now she doesn’t want you here.”

For whatever reason, Devin was getting to Jake. The unshakeable, unflappable Jake Seresin was rising to a rolling boil under the surface of his skin, and there was nothing he could do to hide it. From the tone of his voice to the tension in his shoulders, to the way his fingers twitched in and out of a fist, Devin and what he was saying was under Jake’s skin.

Devin saw it; you could tell. You couldn’t see his eyes around the bodies between the two of you, but you saw his posture change, his stance open up and his chest puff out. He leaned in and sneered, “She needed to be put in her place. She looks better roughed up anyway.”

You felt their eyes on you. The squad. The whole bar. None of them were actually looking at you. None of their heads turned, but you knew every one of them was staring at an image of you in their minds. Maybe they all figured it out before. Maybe they knew when Devin walked in or when Jake escorted you home. Or maybe they didn’t know anything at all, but either way Devin just gave them confirmation.

Payback was no longer content to play the bystander. His shoes clicked on the floor, echoing in the silence that existed throughout the bar as Jake and Devin sparred. He flanked Jake’s other side, shoulder to shoulder with him as Coyote had been since the confrontation began.

Coyote didn’t move an inch except for the hand at his side that clenched into a fist.

Jake took a step closer. But for the inch of height difference, he stood nose to nose with Devin as he said, “Where I’m from, a man lays his hands on a woman, and you take him out back and put one between his eyes.”

Devin pushed up, must’ve stood on his tiptoes to do it, to close the gap with Jake, to put himself on the same level as the pilot. “She’s mine, you fucker.” Flecks of spit, visible even at your distance, splattered against Jake’s cheek. “Get the fuck out of the way.”

Devin’s hands came up and shoved Jake in both shoulders, hard.

Jake’s shoulders didn’t give an inch. His feet didn’t budge. His posture didn’t change.

Jake’s voice dropped low, so low you barely heard it. If a single soul in the bar had been focused on anything other than the confrontation at hand, if the jukebox hadn’t run to the end of its queue of songs and left the bar in silence, if any more distance had been between the two of you, you wouldn’t have heard the rough, guttural retort from somewhere deep inside Jake’s chest, “You’re really, really gonna have to make me.”

Without warning, Devin swung.

He was standing too close to Jake, almost chest to chest with the taller aviator. There was no good angle from which to strike, and his arm took a wide arc away from his body to get the necessary momentum and distance to hit at Jake with any force.

It was like it moved in slow motion, Jake’s head turned, his eyes following the direction of the swing as it approached his face.

You gasped and clung tighter to Fanboy, who blindly reached back to clutch your arm, pulling you in closer to him.

The fear, entirely for Jake, was also entirely unnecessary.

Jake’s head leaned to one side and effortlessly avoided the blow. Devin stumbled a couple steps to the side as his momentum carried him past Jake.

It gave Jake the space he needed to counter, not with a wide, slow hook around to the side of Devin’s face, but with a swift, firm uppercut to his jaw.

The connection sent a crack echoing through the bar, and Devin’s entire body went slack before he even hit the floor.

Coyote caught his arm before he could collapse, not that it did Devin any good to be under Coyote’s care instead of Jake’s. Coyote’s grip was so tight on Devin’s upper arm that you were sure it would bruise not just the skin but the muscles underneath.

Jake bent down over the other man and bent a finger up under his jaw. Devin’s head tipped up into Jake’s face without any protest and fell back to bob loosely to one side the moment Jake wasn’t supporting him any more.

“He’ll be out cold for a while.” Jake declared, glancing up to give Coyote a nod.

Coyote dropped his grip on Devin and let him crumple unceremoniously to the floor.

“Now,” Jake left Coyote to deal with Devin, stepping over the unconscious body on the floor as one might step over a puddle in the street. He ambled over to Rooster, whose presence had been more than enough to hold off Devin’s two buddies for the brief ten seconds of fighting, if it could even be categorized as a fight.

“Are you two,” Jake wagged a finger between Devin’s two friends as he came shoulder to shoulder with Rooster, “the ones she told me helped him out last week? Cause I gotta bone to pick with them too?”

“No, we didn’t!” The shorter of the two declared loudly. “Look, we don’t want any trouble.”

Jake’s head turned to glance back over his shoulder, and for the first time since Devin confronted you, you made eye contact with Jake.

His eyes were hard, cold, unfeeling. He wasn’t angry anymore. He wasn’t upset or worried or fearful or any of the other emotions you felt warring inside of you. The mask was back on, the unflappable exterior that only you had seen beneath before tonight. He wasn’t waiting for them; he was waiting for you. A good soldier, waiting for his orders.

Imperceptibly to everyone but Jake who was watching you like a hawk, you shook your head. This had gone on long enough already tonight. You just wanted it to be over.

“Well then,” Jake turned back to the two friends in tow. “Why don’t you take your buddy and get out of here?” Jake stepped close, towering over the shorter one as he added, “Tell him if he comes back round here to bother her again; I will spend the rest of my life making sure he’s too afraid to even look at another woman.”

Beside Jake, Rooster began casually cracking the knuckles of his fist one by one, presumably for emphasis.

There was a dull thud that drew the quad of men’s attention back towards Devin.

Payback was squatting over the unconscious man. He’d seemingly been rooting through the other man’s pockets. The sound of his wallet dropping back onto Devin’s back was the noise that drew the men’s eyes and everyone else’s watching as a result.

Payback was waving a credit card in the air in Jake’s general direction.

“Good idea,” Jake wandered over and snatched up the card. “Call it payback for disturbing the bar tonight.” Jake’s teasing smirk was back as he used Payback’s callsign. He abandoned the group to amble back towards Penny at the bar, and his absence seemed to break the tension.

The patrons, scattered around, all began slowly turning back to their tables. The conversation was quieter, hushed whispers that were no doubt mostly about the fight they’d just watched ensue, but their eyes seemed to have drank in their fill of the scene.

Under the watchful eye of Rooster, with Coyote and Payback standing by, Devin’s two friends draped their friend unceremoniously across their shoulders. Despite the struggle they were clearly having, not a soul offered to help as they stumbled under his weight out of the bar.

“I hope they have to drag him to the car.”

You jumped and turned your head to find that at some point in the chaos Phoenix and Bob had come up on the other side of the pool table as a last line of defense.

“Please, I hope they faceplant in the gravel.”

You let out a humorous laugh at Phoenix’s comment as your body finally slumped under the weight of the evening, resting back against the pool table with a huff of air.

“Are you…”

“Fritz, if you ask me if I’m okay, I will walk out of this bar right now.” You held up a finger to silence him.

You were not okay. You would be okay, one day; you knew that much. But that day was not today.

In the distance, like you were hearing an echo from the other end of a long tunnel, you registered the bell ringing for a free round. Your vision was tunneling too, but you could make out Jake was leaning across the bar, ringing the bell himself as he slammed Devin’s card on the bar in front of Penny.

Maverick, always present in front of Penny’s bar, slapped him on the back and whispered something in his ear, but Jake seemed, for once, thoroughly uninterested in his commanding officer.

His eyes, you thought, appeared to be focused on you. He left the bar before he even got his own free drink and headed straight back towards the pool tables.

Coyote and Rooster tried to talk to him, but he brushed him off. By the time he reached Fanboy, still awkwardly hovering in front of you, his destination was clear, and Fanboy slid right out of his way.

“Come on,” Jake held out a hand to you. “Penny won’t mind if you don’t finish out your shift.”

It wasn’t a tunnel you were looking through now so much as a camera, the lens zooming in and zooming out, narrowing and expanding your field of vision around Jake.

Jake, the only thing in the world right now that felt safe, that felt ok.

You numbly, clumsily, flung your hand out to grasp his, and as his fingers laced through yours you thought you might have a different answer to Fritz’s question, not that you’d ever voice it.

—————————————

“Thank you.”

It was about an hour after you and Jake had left the bar.

He’d walked you out the back door of the Hard Deck and down the beach for the better part of half an hour before the two of you wordlessly agreed to find a comfortable spot to sit down in the sand.

The silence had been more comfortable than you ever thought silence with Jake could be. Every time he’d driven you home from the Hard Deck, he’d felt the need to fill every available moment with some kind of noise, compulsively turning up the volume on the radio or making snarky, sarcastic commentary about anything that passed by the window. Silence was not Jake Seresin’s forte.

Yet the silence between the two of you had felt like a comforting blanket, wrapping you in understanding. He already knew what happened between you and Devin; the hard part of that explanation was over. He already knew why Devin was there that night, what must have prompted him to show up, what he was hinting at in front of the whole bar. He knew nothing else about you, but he knew this, knew every detail of the most painful moment of your life, and he accepted it without question, gave you what you needed without question, helped you without question.

“You don’t have to thank me for doing the right thing for once in my life, Hurricane.” Jake murmured. “It’s a nice change of pace.”

You wished you could deny that, say that Jake was a great guy, say that he always did the right thing or that he was a good man. But the truth was he often wasn’t. He was flawed, deeply so, rude when it was uncalled for, inappropriate when the moment was serious, lewd when he should have been respectful, confrontational when he should have been kind. He was as flawed as any other human being, maybe more so.

But when you needed him he was there. When no one else was there, he was there. And that, to you, forgave any multitude of sins.

“What did Mav say to you when you left?”

“What?” Jake did a quick double take, looking down at you beside him. “Oh,” He chuckled to himself. “He said, ‘Good man, no push-ups tomorrow when I shoot you down.’”

“Well,” you smiled, “I owe you a lot more than a few push ups.”

“You owe me nothing.”

You squeezed his hand, his fingers which had been laced in yours since he led you out of the Hard Deck, “How about a second chance? If I remember correctly we didn’t get off to the best start.”

Jake smirked, “Not a chance am I starting over. You’re still my Hurricane.”

11K notes · View notes

lazyjellyfish300 · 22 days

Text

Gentleman part 2 🌼💌

GeneticistCEO!Miguel O'Hara x Fem Intern College Student!Reader

Synopsis: after receiving a generous gift from Dr. O'Hara, you intend to thank him the next day. Word count: 5.8k

A/N: a little Fifty Shades of Grey inspired with the whole document situation. Here's what Dr. O'Hara looks like btw. 🫶🏽

TW: MINORS DNI, suggestive (no smut but talk of sex, alludes to sex), heavy kissing, bullying, little angst, some controlling behavior, Sugar daddy relationship, ooc Miguel , boss/employee relationship, I don't condone IRL

Part 1, Part 3, Part 4

@scaleniusrm @laysmt @to-the-endoftheline @oharasfilipinawife

------

You feel like you're floating as you read the note over and over again etching every curve and spike of Dr. O'Hara's messy signature on the card into your memory. You lean in, smelling the gorgeous flowers, closing your eyes, a warm feeling making itself known in your chest. This truly felt like a dream come true. The way this went from one of your worst days to the best in a matter of hours. This mysterious, handsome scientist being the cause. Everything about your life changed in a matter of minutes. You were going to go to bed hungry, and instead woke up to a 5 star meal and your favorite flowers.

"What is that?" Isla asks sharply, causing you to spin around, tucking the card under your arm.

"Nothing.....just-ah...some flowers....and food."

"What the...." She takes a step closer, scanning you suspiciously. She smirks, "I didn't know you had a boyfriend."

You feel your face heat up and try to shuffle away quickly in annoyance. She takes note of the way you're turned away, trying to conceal the card and who it's from.

"Well come on, who is it?" She presses. Heather and Vivian walk up and stand next to her in mutual curiousity.

"He's....um.....Greg?"

"Greg?"

"You don't know him." With that, you bolt for your room, leaving your roommates with raised eyebrows and suspicions.

You lock your bedroom door behind you and place the takeout bag on your bed, first arranging your new flowers on the windowsill in a vase before you dig in. When you open the bag, there's three different entrees of your favorite things to order from the restaurant, two of your favorite appetizers, two desserts, and two large to-go cups filled with two of your favorite beverages and those delightful pebble ice cubes that gave that satisfying crunch and sounded so heavenly when it clattered against the plastic.

As you took your first few bites of the piping hot food, you leaned back in your bed with a sigh of contentment. You could probably die and go to heaven with how delicious everything was, your belly and your bank account nice and full.

You stood up and changed into your favorite pajamas and lounge wear, putting a show to watch on your phone while you continued to eat to your heart's content with your gorgeous bouquet as the perfect backdrop against the setting sun outside your dorm window.

-------

The next morning, you woke up, deciding that you'll get to Alchemax bright and early to give Dr. O'Hara a proper thank you. You figured this would be a one time thing and nothing you could do would be enough to pay him back, not to mention the moral implications of a manager doing this for one of his interns. He really put it all out there for you and you didn't want it to go unacknowledged.

You wrote out a heartfelt letter on some notebook paper and grabbed a poppyseed muffin from the common area and hoped that he'd appreciate the thought behind it. You did your hair, dressing in one of your nicer outfits, makeup just the way you liked it and walked out the door with a spring in your step.

-----

Alchemax

Miguel took a generous sip from his coffee mug. It had a picture of him and Gabi as stick figures that she drew in preschool as the custom design he had printed on the mug. He looked at it fondly with a little smile as he remembered his reason for it all.

His eyes widened when he saw you standing at his desk, a muffin in a brown paper bag and a note in your hands.

"Buenos Dias." (Good morning) He said pleasantly.

You smiled at him, your heart pattering in your chest a little bit now. "Good Morning..."

The way you finished your greeting made it sound like you had something else to say. Miguel waited, his face a little unreadable as he left the floor open for you to continue your thought.

You clear your throat. "I just wanted to thank you, for everything you did for me yesterday. It's-uh. It's just unbelievable and...and I don't know how I could possibly p-pay you back..."

You reach out, offering him the note and the muffin. "I wanted you to have these..."

Miguel's eyebrow raises.

"I-I know it's not a lot....heh. It's absolutely nothing compared to what you've done for me...but it was the least I could do."

Miguel hums and sets down his mug, taking the note and the muffin. "You're welcome...and thank you, for this..." He peers inside the paper bag. "Poppyseed?"

You nod, absentmindedly fiddling with your fingers out of nervous habit.

"One of my favorites." He says with a little smile. However the smile quickly disappears as he walks past you to his desk. "I'm going to have you work with Dr. Drew and the junior intern group from now on."

"Dr. Drew?" You give him a confused look. "But, I thought..."

"I have something different in mind for you." He said shortly, sitting down and opening his laptop, peering over his glasses. "I believe Jess's direction will be better suited for your needs. Her group has an opening anyway."

You feel your stomach flop. This was unexpected and you didn't have anything against Dr. Drew, but Dr. O'Hara's group was extremely hard to get onto and this was basically a demotion. Senior Intern just looked that much more attractive on your resume. You were startled at having this change so quickly, uncertain what this would mean for your career and the impression it would leave on your transcript.

"Doctor...with all due respect." You said slowly. "I wanted to be on your team. I mean, I wrote that thesis, I collaborated on that project last year with Dr. Parker and I really really worked my tail off..." You feel a lump in your throat. "Please don't take me off your team."

Dr. O'Hara looks up at you a little sternly from his desk, "I understand your concern, but trust me, this will be a better move for both of us. Jess is a brilliant scientist. One of my best. She will lead you better than I."

"Is...does this have anything to do with what you did for me..?"

Miguel cuts you off, a little harshly this time, saying your name in a firm tone. "Please. Do not argue with me. She's already expecting you and doesn't like to be kept waiting."

You take a step back, a little alarmed and immediately regretful at pushing back. You turn around quickly, walking swiftly towards Jess's office without another word.

-----

Dr. Jess Drew has a lovely smile for you when she sees you walk in. "Hello! Remind me of your name?"

You give it to her and humbly enter the lab, a tall, young looking blonde with one side of her head shaved with the tips dyed pink, and another tall young man with curly dark hair are handling some lab chemicals with safety goggles on their faces, stepping back as the concotion begins to fizz.

"Gwen and Miles here are studying chemical reactions. You'll help me supervise them."

You nod, returning the kind smiles that they both offer you, before they go back to their discussion.

"So, Miguel tells me you are studying Bio?" Jess asks, trying to start up conversation.

"That's correct."

"Wow, and you're going to apply to medical school?"

You nod again. Jess smiles, impressed. "Well, good for you, girl. An Alchemax internship will definitely make you stand out."

You give her a weak smile. "I hope so...to be honest with you, I didn't see this coming. I was kind of expecting to stay with Dr. O'Hara's group until December, then I could be eligible to apply for a full time position."

Jess nods in understanding, a sympathetic hand on your shoulder. "Well, I've known Dr. O'Hara for over a decade now. If he made any changes, it's for good reason and probably best for your individual career path. Can't argue with the CEO."

"CEO?" Your ears perk up.

"Oh..." Jess gives you a little embarrassed smile, nodding towards Gwen and Miles as she motions for you to join her a little further away out of earshot.

"Yeah...he recently started the whole internship program and likes to be hands on with up and coming scientists, so they're fully prepared to work under him and meet his standards. He hates it when people bring up his status as CEO. He just is under a lot of scrutiny and dislikes media coverage in general, so he keeps quiet about it...don't tell anyone I told you that." She murmurs to you with a wink.

Finally, it all makes sense. The money, the lavish gifts, how powerful he was. It made sense Miguel was the elusive CEO of Alchemax that liked to hide from the public eye, despite Alchemax's blaring position in the limelight as the cutting edge of innovation for science and tech. A crowning jewel for the economy of Nueva York, putting them on the map as a technological hub and source of income for over 200,000 employees.

You nod and go back to helping Jess, Miles and Gwen, continuing to work while being unable to get Dr. O'Hara to leave the back of your mind.

-----

When it's time to leave and go to lunch, Jess stops you after Gwen and Miles had already left. "Hold on a sec!"

Jess hands you a small white card with elegant gold trim around the edges.

"You're wanted in the executive suite for lunch. Floor 99. And the code is written down here." She points to the neatly printed black numbers on the card.

"Now, this is important. You are forbidden to share this code with anyone, let alone tell anyone you were up there this afternoon. Got it?" Jess lowers her voice.

"For-bidden. Meaning if you tell anyone, not only are you fired, but I am too, because I was the one who gave it to you. And I have no problem hunting you down... got it?" She shoots you a warm smile.

You smile back, understanding she's mainly joking, but just trying to emphasize the importance of keeping it confidential and covering herself. You nod. "Absolutely...I'll, I'll guard it with my life."

"Atta girl."

You smile and walk out to the hall towards the elevators, impossibly wondering why on Earth your presence was needed in the part of the building less than a handful of people had privilege to access.

-----

You punch the button for floor 99. Nervousness and jitters rising in your body almost in sync with the glass elevator's ascent, passing floor after floor.

Finally, floor 99 arrives with a loud ding. The doors open, revealing a polished marble hallway with a large, fancy door at the end. You walk down it, the sound of your shoes echoing off the walls, noticing the they are adorned with some of the finest artwork.

Cubism style paintings that must have cost a fortune. You pause at one of them, admiring the art, then resume your walk again, arriving in front of the large door. You look to your left and there's a small keypad. You enter the code:

2-0-9-9

You jump back, startled as the door automatically, slowly creaks open, revealing a lavish, lounge suite. Floor to ceiling windows cover the wall on the far end you're facing, a wall with various pieces of tech and advanced looking gadgets are organized in a black case to your left. Gentle harp music playing from a speaker fills your eardrums. There's several tan, cozy looking sofas and sleek coffee tables in the middle. A water feature is on the wall to your right, tranquil water trickling down polished rocks and lightly splashing into a peaceful pond with green lily pads dialing up the degree of luxury. You walk towards the windows, taking in the afternoon cityscape of Nueva York and discover a huge buffet table laid out in front of it.

Platters of the finest pastries and breads: croissants, Challah, assorted bagels, muffins, brownies, danishes, strudals, fritters, and the like. Next to it is freshly cut deli meats: ham, prosciutto, salami, pastrami, turkey, and roast beef arranged beautifully on wooden planks. Then a huge collection of cheeses with cheddar, swiss, havarti, muenster, fresh mozzarella, a large wheel of expensive looking brie, raclette, camembert, and smoked gouda with elegant serving utensils.

Your mouth waters as you take in the sight of an enormous porcelain bowl of fresh fruit. The juiciest, greenest looking grapes you've ever seen with plump strawberries, fresh pineapple, delectable looking kiwi, freshly washed raspberries and mango.

If you thought that wasn't enough food, there's also salads in crystal serving bowls: Wildberry, Cesar, Cobb, and a yummy looking pasta salad with bowtie noodles.

You hear sharp clicking of stilettos behind you on the marble and you turn around.

"There you are!"

Lyla comes walking up to you with a smile, a little frazzled from all the other errands she's been running this morning, wearing a pink blazer with slacks to match, her brown bob hanging neatly around her cheeks.

"I'm glad you could make it! Miguel is running a little late. He's in a meeting, but in the meantime you're welcome to begin and get served up, then if you want to just have a seat at that table." She points to a large oak table next to the waterfall.

"Oh, and what juice do you want, sweetie?"

You blink, so overwhelmed by all of this fancy food and attention. This level of luxury something completely foreign to you.

"Um...what do you have?"

"It's all freshly squeezed." She says with a smile and adjust of her glasses. "Umm, lemme see if I can remember...okay, yes we have orange, apple, grape, cranberry, mango, passion fruit, grapefruit..."

You think for a moment then tell her your selection.

"Great! Coming right up. Oh, and there's also a coffee station, water station and assorted teas over there." She points to the end of the buffet table as she hastily walks into another room.

----

A short time later, you're sitting with your huge plate of food and three drinks, munching away with a content look on your face, watching the city below outside the window as you dine on the fancy lunch.

A door opens on the far end of the room and Miguel comes walking through, loosening his tie and shrugging off his blazer. Your cheeks heat up as he approaches, his white dress shirt clinging to his body and sparing you no detail of every bulking muscle of his figure, an endearing slight pudge of his stomach and a little smile on his face as he greets you for the first time.

"Is the food to your liking?" He asks gently, draping his blazer over the back of the chair next to yours.

"Oh! Um, yes. Yes, oh my God. Everything is amazing. Thank you, doctor..."

"Miguel." Miguel responds firmly. "Please call me Miguel from now on."

You nod, "Miguel..."

Miguel's body gets warm at the sound of his name leaving your lips. He's a little ashamed because he'd love to make you say it again...a little louder eventually.

"Well, eat as much food as you like. Feel free to take some with you. I'll have Lyla package it up for you."

Miguel walks over to the table, dishing up his own plate. "I'm sure you might be wondering my reasons for all of this. Why I changed your internship and why I invited you here."

Miguel finishes dishing up his plate, just a generous helping of the Wildberry salad with vinaigrette and a croissant, sitting next to you. Sauvage by Dior coming off his neck making you clench your hands into fists.

"I invited you here because...I want to be straightforward with you. I'm very intrigued by you."

Your lips part, your fork falling out of your hand and clattering against the porcelain plate making you jump. A trace of amusement flashes across Miguel's face, then he returns to looking at you with a sincere expression. "I've taken an interest in helping you with your career. With this medical school journey you are on." He continues, turning his attention to his salad, stabbing some of the lettuce.

"I'm a man who makes deals. If you are comfortable with it, I'd like to work out an agreement to where I provide you with anything you might need or desire in terms of funds, clothing, food..." He coats the bite of lettuce in some dressing. "In return, all I ask for is your complete loyalty and companionship. With the ability to negotiate what that looks like."

You dab your mouth with your napkin, trying to make sense of what he's telling you. If you weren't mistaken it sounds like, "You want me to...be your sugar baby?"

Miguel smiles, blowing a little air out of his nose. "For lack of a better term, yes." He takes a bite of his croissant, then a generous sip of lemon water.

"But, why. Why me? I mean...all the other girls in my dorm at my college, the smart women you work with, surely, there's someone else that would be a more equal fit to you. Why such an interest in someone like me?"

Miguel pauses, setting down his fork. "Because I see in you what you don't see in yourself. You have potential. You're smart and determined. You've demonstrated you can work hard. You're different. I've noticed you're a lot kinder than your peers. You're humble, and you don't show off." He smiles.

"You're a perfectionist and you put extra care into your work. I want to make your dreams of medical school happen for you. I see an investment that's very worthwhile."

"An investment?" You ask. "I'm just a business proposition?"

Miguel chuckles. "No...no....you are certainly more important than that. Traditionally, with these kinds of arrangements, there's a...a more intimate component to it." His brown eyes shine with the tiniest hint of mischief. "Typically, I'd provide all of this for you, and you'd give me something in return."

Your breathing gets a little heavier.

Miguel notices your flustered reaction and smirks, putting a reassuring hand on yours. The warmth of his palm radiating over your skin. "But, my mother raised me to give freely, without expectation of receiving anything in return. I would be fine providing for you as long as you'd let me. As long as you continue to work hard for my company, perform well in your studies, and agree to not to see anyone else while we are involved with one another, but I'm getting a little ahead of myself."

You remain silent, a quiet analysis underway in your mind as he slides a folder to you with a fancy ballpoint pen, the click of it alone sounding like a year's salary. "Open it."

You obey and open the folder with shaky hands. A lengthy, formal agreement is neatly typed in small black letters, with ample blank space in between some of the clauses of the agreement, presumably for any changes you'd like to make.

Miguel opens his own copy of the document, taking another fancy ballpoint pen in hand. "Now...this first paragraph details the money aspect of our arrangement. Since I sent you $1,000, that would be considered an advance on your allowance, and I would not send another payment until two weeks from yesterday. Unless, you are needing more before then?" He asks. "Why don't you list all of your debts for me and their respective amounts, and I'll write them down here."

You nod, going through the list. There's your phone bill, your Netflix account, Spotify, your insurance, groceries, your three maxed out credit cards, a personal loan you owe the bank, as well as anything you need such as toiletries, medicine, and clothing. Miguel takes note of each one and writes it down. The room silent except for the gentle flick of his pen.

"Perfect. These won't be an issue at all." He scans the next paragraph. "Now, for this portion, I need you to fill out this form."

He slides you a new paper, and your eyebrows furrow in curiosity as you look at its contents. It almost looks like a personality quiz, asking for your favorite foods, drinks, places you like to go, your favorite colors, your favorite fashion brands, what makeup you like to use, jewelry you prefer, your height, and measurements.

"What are these for?"

"These are for me. So I can take care of you properly." Miguel says.

You feel the area between your legs get hot when you notice one of the items. "F-favorite... position..."

Miguel smirks. "Like I said, we can negotiate on that portion. I'm not expecting you to do anything intimate with me if you are not comfortable. But if you are..." He stands up, leaning over you a little bit.

"Then I'd like to know, so I can pleasure you accordingly. In just the way you'd like..."

You can feel yourself getting dizzy. Everything about this arrangement seemed so good to be true, you had yet to find any downsides to it. But it felt wrong, almost naughty. This man who was supposed to be your boss, now turned into your personal butler, chef, piggy bank, providing and pampering you with anything and everything a girl could possibly dream of or want.

"I...I might be okay with little things like...I don't know...kissing?" Your face heats up and you look down at your lap. Were you really talking out loud, in explicit detail about a proposed physical relationship with your boss?

Miguel smiles and nods. "Alright..." He jots that down. "Anything else?"

"Anything but...sex." you say the last word quietly as though it was a sin.

Miguel gives you a reassuring smile, perking up a little bit in excitement at the idea of you opening yourself up to him a little more physically. "Could you be more specific?" He asks quietly.

Your face burns and you look around to make sure Lyla or someone isn't around.

"It's just you and me, cariño..." He says quietly, leaning a little closer to you. "I need you to be as specific as you can about what you are comfortable with doing together. Nobody will know, but you and I..."

His tone is gentle, just above a whisper. You feel your insides curdle into honey. "Um...kissing, like making out..."

"Mhmm..." Miguel nods slowly, writing it down. "Please, go on."

"Um, touching..."

"Over, or under clothing..."

"Um.." you bite your cheek, trying to keep your composure. "....both."

Miguel cocks his head at you, a smile curling on his lips. "You sound unsure."

You shake your head "No I'm, I'm sure..."

Miguel looks at you curiously. "You don't need to lie or say what you think I'd like to hear." He sets down his pen.

"To be frank, your pleasure is positively correlated with my own. In order for mine to be optimized, yours must be completely satisfied...and I'd like to get as much as I can."

Your eyes flutter and you swallow, nodding. "Ah-okay.... Um...yeah let's just do touching outside of our clothes for now."

Miguel hums and takes note. "We'll revisit that part later, when we have more time. This next section is extremely important."

He runs his finger down the page. "Now, these are just a few housekeeping items. I prefer minimal public displays of affection, and if there are any, they are extremely modest. Any public dates we go on will be limited so you are not spotted by the press. You are not to post of our relationship on social media. You must reject any romantic advances from anyone else. Does this all sound okay?"

You blink a little at the rigid terms but nod. "Okay, yeah, understood." You look back down at the document, scanning over the next paragraph, noticing the next section, "Transparency...so, I'm allowed to ask you any questions I have before I sign the agreement?"

"Yes, any questions you have, I'll answer. So you know what you're getting into." Miguel says, leaning back in his chair.

"Have...have you had relationships like this before?"

Miguel nods. "Yes, I have."

You gulp, a little uneasy at his answer but you slowly digest it. "Have they been...employees of yours?"

Miguel pauses as he recollects his memory. "No, admittedly. You are the first. That's why I moved you under Jess's leadership. To try and avoid any entanglements that would compromise my business."

You nod, biting the tip of your pen thoughtfully. "It says here you don't do marriage?"

"Marriage? No. That's correct. I will not marry anyone."

You hesitate. "Can I ask why?"

Miguel nods, taking his seat next to you again. "I built this business from the bottom up. It means a great deal to me. I have entirely too much to lose. My fear for the security of my assets, along with the messy emotions of a marriage are why I refrain from entering into it again."

"You were married before?"

"Yes, once. She passed away shortly after my daughter was born."

"I'm sorry..." You say quietly.

"Don't apologize, it happened a long time ago. But, my not wanting to get married has caused many of the women who were in your position before to end the relationship. I understand if this is a deal breaker for you."

You contemplate for several moments. Marriage was something you dreamed of, but with all of the amazing benefits he was offering you, perhaps you could put up with a ring being taken out of the equation, for now. "I think I can handle it."

Miguel smiles and nods. "Very well...just know that you can terminate this arrangement at any time, and I won't harbor any feelings of animosity towards you if you do. I understand my requirements are extensive, but I intend to make sure it's completely worth it and you are happy and taken care of. If you sign this agreement, you will still be mine entirely. Anything you desire, anything you want. I promise it will be yours."

His hand finds yours again. "Now...if you'll sign, please?"

You quickly write your signature on the bottom line. A small breath leaving you as he tucks it back into the folder. "Wonderful...thank you. This means a great deal to me...with that said and done..." He takes you by the hand, helping you stand up.

His eyes look into yours. You hold his gaze, a look of wonder on your face as you look back at this beautiful man who just promised to be all yours. Your wish his command. Every pretty and fine thing in his world at your disposal. He purrs quietly, bringing you closer.

"Will you put your hands on my chest, please?" He whispers.

You obey, your lips parting as you feel the dense muscle underneath your palms. A quiet rumble vibrating through him at the sensation of your touch. Your eyelids droop when you feel him bringing his hands to your hips.

"And...I can put my hands here...?" He murmurs.

You nod silently, wetting your lips.

Miguel smirks at this, his own eyelids becoming heavy and he leans down towards you a little bit. "Can I have a kiss, before you go?"

You utter a shaky breath and nod, "Yes..."

He carefully and gently presses his full lips against yours in a delicate kiss. He was softer than you were expecting. He hums quietly and begins slowly to open his mouth against yours, releasing little breaths into your mouth when you hold the kiss.

Any anxiety you had about this arrangement seemed to dissapate as quickly as your lips met in a tender first meeting, your body now reacting with a mind of its own, your hands slowly sliding up his body, finding the back of his hair.

Miguel grunts a little eagerly, pleasantly happy with the way you're responding, and he pulls you closer, sliding his tongue into your mouth, sucking your bottom lip, using one of his hands to angle your head, requesting permission to leave his kisses elsewhere besides your lips. You groan and tilt your head back, letting him gently move his lips along your throat. He chuckles against your skin. "Perfect...."

He sighs and cups your face in his hands, looking at you with adoring eyes. "I have to go away on business until Friday..." He brings you back in for another kiss, gliding his tongue across your lips, smiling as he hears you moan open mouthed into him.

"Mmm….this...should hold me off until then." He presses his forehead against yours. "In the meantime, don't forget to fill out that paper of all your favorite things." He nuzzles the tip of his nose against yours. "I also need your phone number."

You beam at him and eagerly enter your number into his sleek phone while he gently kisses the top of your head, watching you do it. Before you part, he speaks up.

"One more thing, with me, you will be looked after and offered personal protection."

A man enters the room. He's tall and lanky, sporting a grey turtleneck under a fancy tweed black trenchcoat and circular framed glasses with dark brown hair. He's rather cute and looks like a mashup of The Matrix meets Peaky Blinders.

"This is Noir. He will be your personal driver. You're to let him know where you're going at all times and if there's anything you need, okay? He has my number as well, so any questions or concerns you have for me, you can also relay to him in the event that I'm unavailable."

"Ma'am." Noir greets you with a friendly smile and polite kiss on the back of the hand. "Your wish is my command. Your safety and comfort is my utmost priority. If you're stuck in front of a train, my only job is to throw myself in front of it."

Miguel clears his throat, a little annoyed with Noir's dramatics. "Yes...right. Take her home, please. Make sure she has anything she needs until Friday." He pulls you back in for one more kiss and hug. "And I'll see you...." He kisses you tenderly. "Very soon...¿Vale? (Right)

"Right..." You agree, giving him another gorgeous smile. "Thanks, Miguel. I'll miss you..."

Miguel gives you a warm smile and one more peck on the lips. "Awh...te extraño más(I'll miss you more)." He winks.

"Take care of her for me, Noir."

"You got it, boss."

-----

Noir drives you in a sleek Mercedes back home, opening your door and making sure you have everything you need before he drives off into the night.

You walk in your shared dorm with a big smile, only to have it wiped away when you open your fridge. Your leftovers from your takeout last night were missing. You close the fridge with a frown and walk towards your room, pausing outside Isla's room. You hear her voice along with Heather and Vivian's speaking in low volume which abruptly cuts off when they hear someone approaching.

"Hey..."

The three girls look up at you from their places on Isla's bed as though you killed their cat.

"H-have you guys seen my food that was in the fridge?"

"Don't know, don't care." Vivian snaps.

You tense up, wondering where this hostility is coming from. "I don't get it, what's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong, except Professor Hill came in and bitched at all of us not cleaning the bathroom."

You take a deep breath. "Okay...but, I told you guys last week, I'm tired of being the only one who cleans it, and this week I'm not doing it, so one of you needs to decide who's taking a turn this time."

"Um, actually it is your job this week. Since you want to be a whore and sleep around with the boss." Heather says, crossing her arms.

You feel a knot in your stomach.

"What are....w-what..."

"Huh, um what, duh?" Isla responds, mocking you in a deep voice with dramatic facial expressions. "Stop playing dumb. Now you think you're hot shit, getting to skip out on work now that you're his little slut and he's sending you flowers?"

“First of all, it's none of your business, second of all, why are you privy to any of this, Isla? Did you go into my room while I was gone?”

“It's none of your business, since you wanna play that game with me, you hoe.” she retorts.

"It's not my fault he chose me over your desperate ass, Isla!"

Isla pauses, then chuckles darkly. "Oh sweetheart...." She gets up, shoving past you and racing towards your room.

"What the-" you attempt to run after her but Heather and Viviana hold you back, pushing you against the door. "Ow-stop! Please!"

Isla takes the bouquet of flowers from your window sill and the card, "ThAnK yOu FOr tHe sAnDwICh and fOR yOur DiliGEnt woRK fOR mY depaRtmEnt. EnJOy- Dr. O’HArA!" She reads in another mocking tone.

"Isla, those are mine!" Heather and Vivian restrain your arms, preventing you from entering your room. "Stop!!"

Isla smirks and opens your window, tossing the gorgeous bouquet of flowers out of it.

Your heart sinks from your chest to your stomach and you bolt outside, Heather and Vivian cackling at your expense.

Your lip trembles and eyes fill with tears as you crouch down, trying to pick up the pieces of the shattered vase and the tattered flowers that lay on the ground.

----

Noir notices you're not as talkative as he drives you to work the next morning. “Long night?”

“Eh…” you try to brush it off. “Just issues with my living situation.”

“Wanna talk about it?” Noir asks, adjusting his mirror so his gray eyes look into yours. “I'm all ears.”

You make a tiny scoff, running your tongue along your teeth as you recount your confrontation with Heather, Isla and Vivian, sniffing as you tell him how they've made your life hell and picked on you ever since you moved into the sorority.

Noir nods, taking silent notes in his head as he quietly drives.

“Hey…” Noir says to you as you go to exit the car. “Don't let the bastards get you down, little lady.”

You crack a small smile, nodding and entering the building with a loud sigh.

----

After work, as you slide into the backseat, you gasp at the sight waiting for you. A fresh bouquet of red roses and babies breath even bigger and more gorgeous than the old one, with a new note from Miguel.

This vase is shatterproof. ;) Please tell me if they give you any more trouble. You're more precious to me than any flower. I hope this proves it.

All yours,

-Dr. O’Hara

----

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #atsv miguel #miguel x reader #miguel atsv #miguel ohara #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara fluff #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel o'hara x fem!reader #miguel ohara x fem!reader #spotify #Spotify

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finelinefae · 1 month

Text

you & I (prince!h)

synopsis: harry is a royal in love with a serving girl

word count: 5.7k

contains: fluff , nothing crazy I don’t think

. . .

Y/N was a simple serving girl. An orphan by the age of twelve after her mother and father died of influenza, she learnt to live alone and did so graciously. She knew that there was no point in arguing with the forces of life and so she spent much of her time doing small jobs in order to buy a small something to eat in the evenings and keep a roof over her head.

"Y/N, where have you been?" Maria looked at her wide eyed with hands on her hips as she wiped the sweat from her brow.

After a long time of searching for a permanent job, Y/N met Maria at a local market in the town centre of the village. She was at her worst, begging for scraps of food or something that would stop her stomach from rumbling for at least a little while. Maria was kind enough to offer her a tangerine and a job at the Duke's mansion where she would be a serving girl for as long as she could.

She didn't earn a lot but it was enough to get by and she even managed to save up enough to buy a little cottage home outside the town where she had her very own vegetable patch and an apple tree in the front garden.

"I'm sorry Maria, I came across a stall at the market and they were selling fresh loaves of bread. I thought it would be perfect to serve for the Duke with his breakfast." She placed the brown bag on the kitchen counter and took out the loaf of bread.

"Y/N my darling," Maria shook her head, she was use to the girls antics and couldn't help but let it slide. Maria was unmarried and couldn't have any children of her own so, in her eyes, Y/N was a gift sent from heaven and she cared for her as a mother would for her own child. "Pequeña soñadora." (Little dreamer) She wiped the dirt from Y/N's cheek and kissed her forehead.

Y/N grinned and grabbed her apron off of the pegs where the other servants would hang up their aprons as well. She sat on the bench close to the back door where she replaced her small, battered, brown pumps with black, lace up shoes which has a small heel to them.

She grabbed the trays of food which would be served to the Duke for his breakfast. "And what mood is the Duke in today Anthony?" Y/N leaned over and smiled, Anthony was the Duke's servant and was always giving updates on how the Duke was acting.

"The usual my sweet," He says, "Make sure you put a few more raspberries on his pancakes, might do the trick in cheering him up." Y/N nods and carries the tray to the dining hall, Ariana and Taylor following behind her.

They two double doors creek loudly as they're opened by the doorman. Y/N curtsies in front of the Duke and Duchess, keeping her head down as she brings them their breakfast. "Your breakfast my Lord." Y/N speaks, clearly.

"Thank you Y/N." The Duke addresses her and awaits for his plate of breakfast to land in front of him. Y/N takes the plate of raspberries and pours a few more onto his pancakes just like Anthony told him too.

Suddenly, the double doors open again and the sound of clicking shoes against the marble flooring catches Y/N's attention. She looks up as she reaches to grab the pot of tea and makes eye contact with a set of piercing, green eyes.

"Good morning father, sorry I'm late." Harry Styles, son of the Duke, a Marquess, enters the room and sits down in his usual spot opposite his mother.

"And what is your excuse this time boy?" The Duke responded, Y/N's body temperature changing from being so close to the Marquess.

"It was a perfect morning for hunting, took Banksy out with me and went out into the forest." Y/N pours tea into the Duke's mug before walking over to Harry, her pulse raising with every step she took.

"Did you catch anything?" The Duke feasted on his breakfast as he spoke, food getting caught in his greying moustache.

As Y/N poured the tea, her heart hammered against her chest when she felt Harry move his hand to brush against hers. She had a steady hand but was close to pouring the hot tea all over him.

She looked down at Harry who was still looking at his father, pretending the interaction didn't happen but she knew exactly what he meant by it.

"Will that be anything more my Lord?" Y/N asks, it was usual protocol.

The Duke says nothing and waves her off, giving her the signal to leave. Y/N leaves the dining room but doesn't hesitate to turn back and glance over at Harry who's already smiling right back at her.

Breakfast was over and Y/N was given a five minute window before she had to help make lunch. She reached for her coat and wrapped it around herself, looking over her shoulder before walking outside through the back door.

Once she had reached her destination, she looked around and was elated to see the head of brown curls walking towards her. His lean, long legs walking hastily knowing she had such a short amount of time to talk.

Without a moments hesitation, he picked her up and spun her around in his arms, a giggle eliciting from her lips. "Oh my beautiful girl." He grins, happiness apparent in his appearance. "How has it been just little under twenty four hours since I last saw you yet I have missed you ever so much?"

Y/N bites her lip, she could already feel her cheeks aching from a want to smile at his words. "I missed you too Harry." She leans forward and pecks his cheek but he shakes his head, leaning into her and placing his lips onto hers.

"I'd die happy, right here with you." He pulls away and looks at her so deeply into her eyes.

Y/N frowns, her mind was always plagued over the fact that her love with Harry was forbidden. She was a mere serving girl in a house that belonged to Harry's father and would soon belong to him.

"What's wrong baby?" Harry rubs his thumb under eye, feeling her skin beneath his touch.

Y/N nuzzles her cheek against his hand, "Do you ever wonder what life would be like outside these walls?" She murmurs, admitting her desires all of a sudden.

"What do you mean?" He looks at her confused.

"Harry you know there is no possibility for us to be together within this kingdom. Your father is a royal and you are too, as much as you hate to admit it," The more she spoke, the more Harry grew frustrated by her words because as much as he detested the true state of their relationship, he also knew it was true. "But out there my love, there is so much for us, so much we can do. I've seen it."

Harry knew of Y/N's past, she had told him once on a night she would never forget. The night they had their first kiss under the stars in the garden that she adored spending so much time in.

"What are you suggesting?" He knew what she was suggesting but he also knew his little love was so full of dreams and it hurt him knowing she had no way of reaching them considering her class.

She felt her lips turn downwards slightly but she tried to smile, her expression bittersweet knowing she was off in one of her daydreams again. "I'm not suggesting anything Harry, it's merely a dream I have. I know your duty lies here with the Duke and you will live out your life in this mansion where you will marry a rich, beautiful woman and have plenty of children who you will pass the name down to. Whilst I, a poor serving girl, will be at your side until my last dying day."

She tried to pull away from him, the words upsetting her no matter how true they were. She felt Harry grip onto her arm softly, not wanting to hurt her but wanting her to stay. "My sweet girl what on Earth are you talking such nonsense for?" He spoke, "You know I've never wanted to be Duke and the only beautiful woman I will marry is you. You and I will have plenty of children which we will pass our name down to and we will be at each others side for eternity, long after death."

Y/N smiled at his words, imagining the life she could have if his words ever came to life, but they couldn't. "Harry-"

"Baby," He interrupted her, "run away with me."

Her lips parted in shock at what he was suggesting. She shook her head in much disbelief.

"You have no idea what you are saying." She speaks as if she wasn't suggesting it a few minutes ago.

"Oh I know exactly what I'm saying," He smiles, cheekily and pulls her into his embrace.

She looks up at him, resting her head on his shoulder as she whispers into his ear, "The life you'll live Harry, it's nothing like it is here. There are no servants waiting on you and serving you three meals a day. We may not know if we'll even get breakfast let alone supper and we'll have to run away from the village. You'll be missing and the Duke will have no one to give his title to, the Styles name ending with him. Think about this."

"My love I have spent many nights thinking about this, I spend all my nights dreaming of a life with you where we don't have to sneak around to be together. We can live somewhere far away where I can touch you," He runs his fingers down her arm and goosebumps arise, "Feel you," He whispers so close into her ear and digs his fingers into her waist and she gasps but doesn't halt his actions, "Worship you." He kisses the spot under her ear.

"You'd give it all up for me?" She wonders, in awe of the man she was falling in love with.

"I'd give up my life for you." His lips brush against hers, moving in closer to get a kiss from her.

"Y/N?" Maria called from the kitchen.

Y/N pulls away from him, knowing her five minutes were up and she had no choice but to go back and help the other servants. "Your leaving already?" Harry sighs, holding onto her hand so tightly she couldn't let go.

"Lunch is soon to come around so I have to help out in the kitchen." She wished she had more time to spend with him. "Are you still coming over tonight?" She had been excited about tonight considering she and Harry had been planning it for the last two weeks. He was planning on coming to her cottage since the Duke was leaving after lunch for formal duties at the crown court. He wouldn't be back until the morning which gave Harry much opportunity to sneak away and visit her in her little cottage.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world baby." He kisses her passionately before she can leave.

"I love you Harry." She whispers.

"I love you more and don't forget about what I said." He calls after her as she runs back to the kitchens.

She walks in through the back door in a daze, holding her hands to her heart and looking up at the ceiling. Being with Harry always felt like a dream.

She could feel someones eyes on her and looked forward to see Maria glaring at her. She shook her head after they made eye contact, "Estas entrando en aguas peligrosas pequeña soñadora." (You’re entering dangerous waters, little dreamer)

Y/N bit her lip and brushed her off. She knew what she was doing by being with Harry but she wouldn't give him up. She had done that far too much throughout her life and she wanted to be selfish just this once.

Lunch came about quicker than expected and the kitchen was already starting to get hectic as the servants plated up the food for each member of the family. Y/N was preparing the wine which she was going to serve and listened as Maria spoke to the other servants.

Anthony came in to alert everybody that the family were already waiting for their food and everyone picked up the trays of food. Y/N smiled, feeling giddy about seeing Harry after the conversation they had this morning.

The doors opened and she could already see him sat in his usual seat beside his father and opposite his mother. Y/N realised they had caught them mid conversation, her ears perking up to hear what they were talking about.

"Harry, are you prepared for the ball this Saturday night?" The duchess asked, a smile overcoming her features.

"In all honesty mother, it's barely crossed my mind." Harry sighs, his eyes glued to Y/N as she pours the wine in the duchess' glass.

"Well I've had Gerald go to the town to buy your garments. We need to looking spectacular since it's the perfect opportunity to find you a bride."

A loud thud catches the family's attention, their eyes diverting to Y/N who's picking up the jug of wine she had dropped on the floor. "I'm so s-sorry My Lord and Lady." She curtsies, apologising to them profusely.

"It's perfectly alright dear." The duchess places a hand on her to calm her down.

She ignored Harry's eyes on her as she got back to serving the wine. "I've already told you mother, I will do no such thing as finding a bride." He speaks.

"Nonsense Harry," It was the Duke's turn to speak, "We all agreed you would find a bride before the sixth month which is vastly approaching."

Y/N could feel her heart slowly breaking, Harry had never mentioned any of this to her. The sixth month was only a month away which meant they had little to no time in finding a bride.

"You cannot force me to marry father." You could hear the tension in Harry's voice as he tried to control his anger.

The Duke scoffs, "I think you'll find that I can because I am your father and above that the Duke. You are a Marquees Harry, you will be taking my title and carrying on the bloodline so, yes, I can force you to marry."

The servants were trying to go about their business knowing of the rise in tension in the room but Y/N couldn't ignore what was going on. Harry was going to find a bride and he didn't tell her of the short amount of time he had to find one.

"You and mother have always said to marry for love - I cannot force myself to fall in love with somebody." The Duke ignores Harry's words so he looks to his mother for help but she shakes her head, trying to stop him from angering the Duke even further.

Harry looks over at Y/N again, he knew she was hearing every word the family was saying and his heart felt heavy when he noticed the glassy look in her eyes as she kept her head down to avoid him.

Unable to control his rage, he hits his closed fist against the table, the entire thing shaking and startling everyone around him. "I have done so much for both of you, taken part in every duty you have signed me up to when you both know I'd rather die than keep my title. The least you could do is accommodate my one desire of refusing to marry someone I do not love." He spits, eyes filled with fury at both his parents.

The room is filled with an eerie silence with nothing but Harry's heavy breathing as the servants stand away from the table to one side, keeping their heads down.

Finally the Duke looks up at Harry, "You will be at the ball this Saturday night boy." Harry doesn't bother staying to hear the rest, he stands up and storms out of the room. The Duchess turns to the servants and apologises in a flustered state at the actions of her son.

Lunch was over before it had even begun and the servants had no choice but to clear up the plates which were still loaded with uneaten food. "Unbelievable." Ariana muttered under her breath, it was never fun when they had slaved away in the kitchen only for their food to go un-eaten.

Y/N was too far in her own head to respond, trying to mentally heal the heartbreak she was feeling after the whole ordeal at lunch. She carried the cups away with her and left the room to deliver them to the kitchen.

As she was about to turn the corner, she felt a tug on the end of her dress and was startled to see Harry, sympathy in his eyes. She could tell by the look on his face that he wanted her to follow him and, as much as she tried to fight herself, she followed him.

Harry pulled her into a vacant room that wasn't often used regularly. Y/N stood with her arms crossed waiting for him to talk. He paced back and forth and Y/N made no effort to calm him down even though she could see the torment across his features.

He finally looks at her, "Can I kiss you please?"

Y/N doesn't get the chance to say anything before he walks over and cups her face in his hands, kissing her lips. Y/N melted into him like she did every time. No matter what was going on between them, he never failed to make her feel so wanted and that was something she never often felt growing up.

But she couldn't deny the incessant reminder in her head that even though she was wanted now by him, she may not be in the future. After Saturday night he could make someone feel the exact same way and she refused to put herself in a situation like that.

"Harry," She pulled away, "Don't come over tonight." She hadn't even realised she had started crying until she wiped away a stray tear from her face.

She forced herself out of his embrace and turned away from him. She could hear him calling her name from behind. However, she knew Harry was stubborn so she had no choice but to be the one to walk away.

It was for the best. They had both always known that their relationship was doomed from the very beginning and now was the time to accept that.

Y/N walked home in the dark after a hard day at work. She carried a whicker basket with a loaf of bread inside that Maria had kindly sneaked her after supper was served in the evening. Considering the day she had, she was glad to have a little something to look forward to.

At the sight of her tiny cottage, her shoulders relaxed. She was so happy to finally be at home and away from everywhere else where she had time to think to herself. She immediately walked to the kitchen to heat up the loaf of bread and prepare a vegetable broth to have for dinner.

As she was about to add in her chopped carrots, a knock sounded at the door. Her eyebrows furrowed when she tries to this of who could be here at this time of day. She walked to the front door and held her ear to it in hopes it would give her an idea of who was there but it was impossible to make out any sound.

"Y/N it's me." Her breath caught in her throat when he spoke, her mind dividing her opinion of whether or not to open it for him. "I just want to talk to you, I-I want to explain everything and I'm sorry I didn't tell you earlier but you have to believe me when I tell you all of this is what my father wanted... All I want is you."

Y/N was holding onto the door knob as she listened to him speak until one choice outweighed the other and she opened the door to reveal a sad looking Harry. He was a disheveled mess, his hair all over the place like he'd been running his fingers through it over and over in frustration.

Despite the flash of guilt that came to her, she stood her ground, crossing her arms and glaring at him. Harry couldn't help but grin as she tried her best to look angry, he knew she wouldn't hurt a fly. "You're so cute." He says, not caring how angry she was. He was always going to compliment her no matter what mood she was in.

"Did you follow me?" Y/N wondered, he had never been to her home before which was why tonight was so exciting for them.

"Maybe or maybe I asked Maria." He shrugged. "Can I please come in?"

Y/N wanted to keep him outside so he wouldn't think she'd forgive him so easily for not telling her about the deal Harry had with his parents but she was cold and tired and her soup was still on the stove. So, she moved to the side and allowed him entry.

Harry's face softened and he thanked her as he passed by. Y/N released a sigh and lead the way to the kitchen where she walked to the stove and went back to making her soup. "Your home is perfect, exactly how I thought it would be." Harry speaks, admiring the simplicity and cosiness of the home, wishing he had something remotely similar.

"Exactly how you thought it would be?" She wonders, smiling to herself since her back was to him.

"Mhm," He stood behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, she couldn't help but sink into him. "Soft and pink." He murmured, "I'm sorry Y/N. I know I should have told you about the whole thing with my mother and father but I never thought it mattered when my plan has always been to run away with you."

Y/N turned around in his embrace and looked at him confused, "What are you talking about?"

"Baby, since the day I met you you had me wrapped around this tiny little finger," He held up Y/N's hand and pressed a kiss to her fingertips before placing it to his cheek so he could feel her soft skin, "I've always had dreams of running away with you, living a life of simplicity with just the two of us and maybe a few little ones too." He placed his hand on her belly and butterflies swarmed under his touch.

"You're crazy, you heard what your father said Harry. Maria likes to call me a little dreamer but she has yet to meet you," She pushed him away and turned back around to take the soup off of the stove.

"Why do you act like this isn't something you dream of as well." Harry was starting to get annoyed with people telling him that what he desired wasn't achievable.

"Of course I have dreamt of running away with you many times and-"

"The let's do it," He steps in front of her, picking up both of her hands in his, "Let's leave this place and be together."

She could see the true desperation in his eyes and she wanted nothing more than to say yes, "W-we can't."

Harry stepped away, "Why? Why can't we?"

Y/N looked at him and felt the flood gates fall open, tears running down her cheeks, "Because I am in love with you Harry." She confesses, having never confessed it before, "I am so in love with you my heart could burst and it's that exact reason I have no choice but to give you what's best. Maybe in another life, where class wasn't important and being poor was no longer a cause of death, we could be together but I love you so much and I want nothing more than for you to have everything you need."

Harry was speechless. "Y/N," He reached for her, pulling her into his chest as she cried. He touched her so delicately, looking into her eyes and seeing the love and heartbreak twirling around together in an achingly beautiful dance. "I love you too."

She sobbed even harder and kissed him on the lips, "Thank you for loving me so strongly my love but you have to understand, I don't want to be the next Duke. Not because of you or anyone else, it's a feeling I've had for as long as I can remember. My whole life I've been told what to do by my father and mother but you were the only person who saw me as something other than a Marquees. You've been the only thing I've needed to know I need to take control over my own life and so I need you to run away with me. Please, Y/N."

Y/N had been fighting hard for so long, knowing what was best for him and knowing how many problems this would cause if she were to say yes. She was tossing between her mind and heart but her heart was always going to win, it always did. "When?" She whispers.

Harry exhaled, feeling an overwhelming sense of relief. He kissed her so fiercely, harder than he had ever done before. They were finally going to get what they had both dreamt of, "Tonight. I've already told Maria and she's asked her husband to get us as far away from here as possible."

"You spoke to Maria about this?" Y/N was surprised Maria knew this was happening and even more surprised she was willing to give them money for their escape.

"It was the only way for me to know where you lived." Harry confessed. "You'll have to leave all this behind but we'll find a home and make it ours."

Y/N's heart warms. The soup was long forgotten about now as she ran about packing a small bag of her most valuable possessions to take with her.

Harry nodded in reassurance at her and lead her outside where he already had a horse waiting for them. It would be their main source of transport until they could got to the harbour where a boat would be waiting to take them away.

"Are you sure of this Harry?" She wanted to double check before they carried out the life changing decision.

"I've never been so sure of anything in my life." Harry says and helps her onto the horse. She glances back at her cottage. It was bittersweet leaving it behind, it was the first home she purchased in her whole twenty three years of living after being homeless but now she was going to be living somewhere new with Harry and money wasn't something she had to worry about for the time being considering Harry had bought a few valuables of his own for them to sell in order to start their new life.

They reached the harbour just as the sun was starting to rise. Y/N jumped off the horse and ran over to Maria who was arguing with her husband over something to do with the safety of the boat. Maria opened her arms when she noticed Y/N running towards her, "mi pequeño soñador." Maria teared up, "Be safe my love and don't forget to write to me."

Y/N nodded, crying with Maria who had been the only person before Harry who had always been there for her. Maria's husband was going to be taking them to the next border so they would be far enough to find somewhere to hide away.

"Baby," Harry reached out for Y/N's hand as he stood on the boat waiting for her.

"Thank you Maria for everything." Y/N cried and took Harry's hand, glancing back at Maria.

She waved to her as the boat began to sail away. She was sat in-between Harry's legs with her back against his chest, "I love you." He whispered, kissing her cheek.

"I love you too." Y/N responded, looking out at the sunrise feeling excited for her bran new life.

. . .

Four Years Later.

The sun shone through the window as it began to rise. Y/N felt the warmth from the sun rays hit her bare back as she lay in bed in the softest, white sheets. Harry ran a finger up and down her spine as he watched her sleep.

He pressed his lips to her bare shoulder and up her neck, "Are you hungry sweet girl?" He whispered.

Y/N smiled and nodded her head, slowly opening her eyes and meeting his green ones. Before Y/N had the chance to reply, the door to their bedroom creaked open and in waddled a their little baby.

"Mmmmaama!" Marie squealed, wearing nothing but a pullover around her waist. She was three years old but looked a year younger, she was born pre-mature and since Y/N was already quite small, Marie was tiny.

Harry's head fell onto Y/N's bare chest as he let out a groan, wanting time with his beautiful wife which was very rare considering they had a very clingy toddler.

"Dada no!" Marie tried to crawl onto the bed, clinging onto the blankets in a tight fist to try and pull herself onto the bed.

"C'mere Ri Ri," Harry chuckled, picking her up and placing her between Harry and Y/N.

"Maaamaaa!" Marie squealed and reached for her mother.

"Good morning little dove." Y/N kissed her chubby cheeks.

Harry smiled, he loved watching his girls interact together. "Hey Ri Ri, wanna come with dada to pick some fruit from the garden?"

Marie squealed, not really understanding what her father had said but agreed with him anyway. "Let's go cherry, let mama get dressed." He kissed Y/N on the forehead before grabbing the baby.

This was their life now.

They had ran away together four years ago and it was the best decision either of them could have made. For a while, both Y/N and Harry struggled to make a life for themselves. They were staying in a small hut as Harry went to work on a farm whilst Y/N worked at a local food shop.

They were so close to giving up in that moment but Harry was prepared to keep his promise of the life they both desired. They ended up travelling further down south after saving up enough money to buy a permeant place to live where they found a small cottage.

After a while, Harry had found a job on a job which gave him enough money to get by. Y/N also had a small job working three days a week at a hat shop but a year later she fell pregnant with Marie so for now she was only working twice a week.

There was no word on what happened to the Duke after Harry's disappearance. Both Y/N and Harry tried their best to avoid any talk of the Duke and Duchess but it didn't stop them from hearing rumours in their local town.

Y/N got dressed into one of her favourite dresses Harry had bought her for her birthday two years ago. She put on her boots to go outside where she saw Harry, wearing nothing but black trousers and boots as he held Marie who was now dressed into something besides her pullover.

She walked over to them and pressed her hand to Harry's bare back, catching his attention. Marie was picking apples off of the apple tree that had even planted in their back garden before they had bought the house.

Marie held up the apple to Harry, "That looks perfect Ri Ri," She giggled and put the apple in the brown basket.

"Marie decided we were going to have pancakes with fruit for breakfast." Harry updated Y/N.

"Oh that sounds wonderful." Y/N kissed Marie and then stood on her tiptoes to kiss Harry.

"You look beautiful." Harry says, his compliments never failing to make her blush. "Can we have another baby?"

Y/N laughed but he was completely serious about it, "Harry-"

"Let me put a baby in you." He pouted, "It'll be fun!"

"Fifteen minutes for nine months of pain? Sounds like fun to me," Her pregnancy with Marie was really difficult and swore her off having kids for the rest of her life.

“You know it’s a lot longer than fifteen minutes thank you very much.” He pinches her sides, "I won't force you because I know it's your body, m’love but just know whenever your ready I'll be right here to fulfil your wishes." He smirked and Y/N nudged him.

"Mamaa look!" Marie held out her chubby hand that was full of raspberries.

"Wow dove! Can mama try one?" She crouched down and opened her mouth for Marie to place a raspberry. "Delicious." She hummed and Marie giggled.

Y/N stood up and looked to Harry, "Maybe we can have another baby."

Harry grins, "I'll call Estella." He says, referring to Marie's babysitter.

He wraps one arm around Y/N's waist as they both stand and watch Marie picking berries in the home they dreamt of having together. He kissed her forehead, "I'm glad you ran away with me." He speaks softly into her ear, happy with the life he finally got to choose.

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ceilidho · 4 months

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exit, no entry wound joe bear graves x reader; part 1 (3.8k)

Local time at destination: 0500 hours.

And then the world rushes back to him like the culmination of a terrible dream.

Bear wakes up in another rosebush outside the front steps of the local library worse for wear. Blinking out of sleep-crusted eyes, shapes diverging in blurry unfocus before slipping back into material objects. A bench. A door. The thorny stems of roses already on their way out, already depetalling, the ground below covered in a thin layer of them. One petal even sticking to his cheek when he pulls himself off the ground, wincing at the branches that crunch around him, that tug against his skin and clothes.

His clothes smell of cheap liquor. Gin. Bourbon. It hurts to open his eyes, to sit up.

“Morning, sunshine,” someone says. He remembers hearing it in his dream too.

He looks to the source of his awakening, blanching when he notices the man staring at him.

Rip sits on the other side of the bushes on his haunches, looking deeply unimpressed. Hair slicked back for a change. “This what you get up to when I’m gone?”

Bear doesn’t respond. He struggles to his feet instead, hangover only just creeping in. Still drunk, to an extent. His knees threaten to buckle under him, forcing him to lay a hand flat on the wall to keep himself upright. One foot in front of the other. The walk home feels endless in the hour before dawn, hardly any light to guide him.

“Pretty pathetic shit, Bear,” the man says, trailing along behind him. Not quite mockingly, but bordering on it. “Getting piss drunk and passing out in a bush? Really? C’mon, man. You gotta be fuckin’ kidding me.”

There’s no sense in responding, Bear knows that now. No sense in even turning around to look. One foot in front of the other. Stumbling home alone under the cloak of night, dawn just around the corner; terrified that one day he’ll have to see it—the sun coming over the mountains, over the horizon.

It’s been less than a year. He hasn’t yet made his amends with God. Forgiveness sits outside of him. Not quite the right time to let it in. Maybe that time passed a long time ago, a small aperture that shuttered closed at the approach of his eyes. He missed it sometime between killing a boy and losing his mind.

A man cannot hold himself up on the scaffolding of the world alone. There has to be something beneath him. There is no sense in repeating the horrors of the world back to him; he’s already lived them. He’s got something of a Midas touch for death.

The months have been long since the divorce was finalised, since Lena left for good, since Buckley died, since Rip—since it all went down. If he thinks about it for too long, it seems like a nightmare that he woke up from still mad about; a nightmare he had no choice but to drink himself into a stupor over to escape. That’s the reality of the world.

“You know, Bear, you’re not the one that’s fuckin’ dead,” Rip spits as he follows behind, matching Bear’s stumbling gait stride for stride. “So you can stop acting like it.”

There’s a truth in Rip’s words and it leaves him feeling nauseous. There’s also a kink in his neck and a headache threatening to split his forehead open. In the belly of him, he has a truth that says that the firmament of heaven is beyond his reach. When he looks up and the sky is void of coruscating light, the meagre stars like an exit with no entry wound, it doesn’t surprise him. Of course there wouldn’t be anything there.

On a good day, his heart feels like it’s weathered a siege.

“So she left you! It’s time to fuckin’ move on. Go to a bar—I mean, you already are, so step one done—and pick someone up. Go on Christian Mingle or something. You keep living your life like this and you’re going to wind up killing yourself. And then the fuck good that’ll do?”

It takes everything in him to not turn around and do something rash. Only the nausea keeps him from making any sudden movements. Even if he were to turn around and do something, his knees would probably buckle under him. Probably throw up the contents of his stomach. Not much in there either. It rumbles when he thinks that, clenching at the thought of food. Then it twists, the nausea returning.

One foot in front of the other. The walk home takes twice as long, his whole body aching.

“Heard you almost quit. Wouldn’t be the worst idea you ever had. Let Buddha take over—he’s earned it. Get yourself a nice piece of land in fuckin’…Montana or something. Couple cows, maybe some chicken—you could get a dog, Christ. You look like a guy who’d have a dog. Why don’t you have a dog, actually? You would’ve told me if you didn’t like dogs, so it’s not that.”

His forehead is greasy when he touches it to rub his head. Body secreting poison in his sleep. Oily. The corners of his lips crack when he yawns. It’s not like he’s never thought about a dog, about having something to care for, another living thing in his house.

But—

(“Bear? …I don’t think we should have a child.”)

What he wants often falls to the wayside, slides off him like a glancing blow.

Her old, familiar shape appears at the sudden loss of a dream: one where Lena’s gaze lingers on him long enough to burn; but then it is the sun.

Bear watches dawn break. Sunday morning. In a different life, he would’ve squinted into the light of a new day and closed his eyes against it, curling into the slighter body tucked into his chest for another hour of rest. Felt the rise and fall of her chest. Woken up to a hot mouth on his cock or fingers curling in his chest hair, petal lips seeking him out. Church after that, showering off the remnants of their morning, solemn in their pews with their chests still holding the laughter of an hour previous. Light as air, as a feather.

He won’t go to church today; hasn’t in months. Not with the guilt of missing it the week before trailing after him, each missed week compounding month after month. The cracks in his faith webbing. Splintering out like stepping on the lake when it freezes over in the winter, crunching under his boot until he holds his place. Conscious that it could break under his feet.

“I grew up with a dog,” Bear finally responds, voice hoarse. First thing he’s said since last call at the bar.

“Yeah. Figures. What kind?”

“Black lab. We called her Daisy.”

It’s another lifetime ago. Still living in his parent’s house, Daisy curled by his dad’s feet, her favourite spot to sleep. Television playing at a low volume, mom at the kitchen table doing her crossword, ink bleeding into the side of her hand. It’s been a long time since Bear buried all of them. He’s buried countless people since.

“What—can’t get another? One and done? That’s how everything works for you?”

Teeth raze across his skin again. Trust Rip to always cut to the quick. Finally back in his neighbourhood at least, the street empty apart from the cars parked in their driveways or along the sidewalk. Bear’s stomach rumbles something fierce now, entreating him to eat. Worse than hunger is how he’d kill for a glass of water though. Anything to settle his head.

“Haven’t wanted a dog,” Bear grumbles, then clears his throat.

“Yeah, you have,” Rip scoffs. Bear hears him kick a rock, sending it skidding across the asphalt.

“Fuck off.”

Heart silicified in his chest, composed of fossilised shells and rocks and bones. It feels heavy in his chest.

He turns down the street leading to his house.

“Gotta let someone else in, Bear. Girl, dog—whatever. You can’t keep this up forever or it’ll kill you.”

When he turns around at the door, fishing in his pocket for his keys, the sidewalk beyond his house is empty.

(So a man lies down and rises not again; till the heavens are no more he will not awake or be roused out of his sleep.)

Every Friday like clockwork, Bear stops at the diner down the street for a coffee and a slice of cherry pie before heading to the bar.

Today is like any other. He leaves the house with only his keys and wallet and walks the long twenty minutes to the diner. Every time he fights the urge to drive, but there has to be something holding him in place. A reason not to throw it all away.

It’s never completely empty when he shows up, but it’s never full either. His seat at the back of the room is open as usual, like they put up a sign before he comes ambling down the street that says Reserved for Joe Graves and then pluck it away before he opens the door. It’d be nice if that were the case. Nice to have something just for him for a change. The thought comes with its accompanying pang of shame. Desire is a dangerous thing; anything he’s ever wanted has come at him with sharpened teeth, clamping down on his leg and ripping through the flesh. Bear trap for old Bear.

He slides into the booth and waits for someone to notice him. Never bothers to flag someone down—if it’s ten minutes or even half an hour before he’s served, that’s fine by him.

“Hiya,” a clear voice says to his right, pulling him away from staring through the blinds out the window. “Can I get you something to drink? Coffee, tea?”

The face Bear turns to meet is pleasant, smiling. Wide and untroubled. It’s not a face he recognizes though, despite months coming to this diner and becoming familiar with the staff. If he had to guess, he’d bet she only started a few days ago, maybe a week at most. She still has the sparkle of someone who hasn’t had the goodness beaten out of them yet.

“Coffee,” he says, his own smile strained. “And a slice of pie.”

“Sure—we have key lime, blueberry, apple—”

“Cherry,” he interrupts, not letting her build steam. The wick in his chest burns too low for any conversation. The quick flicker of her brow makes the shame in his chest swell again. Forgive me sitting on his lips, unsaid. I’m sorry, I don’t know why I do this.

She nods and scurries off to the back, skirt swishing with her movements. Bear notices only because his eyes get stuck there, somewhere between the curves of her hips and the roundness of her ass. When he realizes where he’s let his mind wander, he pulls it back, flattening his lips into a hard line. Any sort of indulgence feels wrong, a taking that shouldn’t be taken. He hasn’t even begun to pay penance for all the damage he’s wrought.

It’s only on her way back that Bear notices the small bump protruding from under her apron. His mouth goes dry. When she reaches him again, he wordlessly accepts the cup of coffee and her reassurance that the pie will be out in just a minute. For a moment, he can hardly meet her gaze, eyes locked on the gentle curve of her belly, caught off guard in a way he hasn’t been in months.

The first thought with any clarity is, what is she doing working here? A crummy diner on a Friday night. Down the street from an even sleazier pub. His second thought is to look outside at the poorly lit stretch of road and think that this is no place for a pregnant woman to be alone. He recognizes each car in the parking lot save one, likely hers. Drove herself here with the expectation of driving herself home at the end of the night.

If it had been Lena—well, he never would’ve let it be Lena, but if it had been, Bear can’t imagine letting his pregnant wife drive herself home in the middle of the night. Can hardly stomach the thought.

She’s not Lena though, so he has no right.

She’s gone before he has time to say anything else, skirt swishing behind her. It catches his eye again. When he tears his gaze away for a second time, he swallows back the metallic taste of self-loathing. It curdles in his mouth. It’s the sign telling him to stop coveting, stop looking out into the world and wondering what he can take. It’s his hamartia, his fatal flaw; thinking himself above the reproach of God. Thinking that he can kill, fuck, curse, and stray farther and farther from the light only to find his way back in the dark.

The bell above the door rings when someone else comes in and Bear tenses. His shoulders only relax when two older women step in and head to a table.

He watches as she picks up a plate from the pass-through window and heads back towards him. When she places it in front of him, he draws a deep breath in, trying to catch more than just the aroma of fresh baked cherries.

“Here we go…one slice of cherry pie, straight out of the oven.”

“Thanks, honey,” Bear rumbles, smile finally meeting his eyes.

“No trouble. The guys in the back said they make it special for you. Joe, right?”

That gets him to levy her with the full weight of his attention. The thought of her asking about him. “I go by Bear.”

“Oh. Alright, Bear.” She twists the word around in her mouth and seems to find it satisfying. “I think I’ve heard your name before. You were—I mean, you’re part of Pastor Adams’ parish, right?”

He clears his throat, cutting off the triangle point of his pie with the side of his fork. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Me too,” she confides, voice a low whisper. A secret between strangers. She doesn’t glance around though, doesn’t bother to draw out the ruse. “Or, I was, anyway. Haven’t been to service in awhile. I, um…I remember you. From a year or so back. You and your—um…you and your wife used to always sit up at the front.”

The fork scrapes against the plate. “Ex-wife.”

He catches her wince from the corner of his eye. “Oh. Sorry. You just—” She doesn’t have to say it. The slight dip of her eyes tells him all he has to know, and besides, it’s his own fault for still wearing the ring. Even with the paperwork signed and dated, even with Lena in another state now, starting a new life without him, the thought of taking it off makes him break out in a cold sweat.

“It’s not—” Bear starts before giving up. He curls his fingers into a fist on the table.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s fine. Not a big deal.”

She fidgets in the silence. Bear can’t bring himself to break it or make the atmosphere less oppressive. He tenses under it, the ache in his low back worsening. These days, he always aches. Nerve damage, a disc on the verge of slipping, an old ankle injury that flares up whenever he goes running. A ghost that follows him from haunt to haunt. The ring on his finger is just another old ache.

“So, uh—” he clears his throat, nodding to her belly. “Your first?”

It’s inappropriate, hardly his place to ask. Incredibly intrusive for someone he’s met for the first time, a stranger just trying to do her job and serve him coffee and pie before he goes off to drink himself half to death again at the dive bar down the road.

Still, he asks.

Only the faintest wrinkle of her nose betrays any embarrassment. “Oh. Yeah. First one.”

“Congratulations.” It’s sincere. The envy in his gut is old, but it’s a manageable pain.

“Thanks,” she says, with a small, private smile, hand resting absently under her belly. “I’m excited. I’m only a couple months along, but, uh…it’s been a journey. Just me and baby against the world, you know.”

That stops him in his tracks. Screws up the whole course of his evening because suddenly the sound of the bell over the door jingling doesn’t draw his attention away. It stays fixed on the smiling girl to his right that just opened her mouth and said something unacceptable.

“Where’s the dad?” he asks, far too bluntly.

She shrugs. “Somewhere. Didn’t stick around long enough to tell me where. It’s fine though—I’ve got my little peanut. That’s all that matters.”

“You told him and he left?”

The pie sits cooling in front of Bear as a pit in his stomach opens up. It’s a terrible, empty hole that holds truths like the fallibility of the body and the good shouldering the burdens of the world.

He only regrets being so direct when her lip quivers, a little motion that betrays her until she wrests control over her face again. “It’s not his fault. I don’t think he was—well…you know, it was a surprise.”

“That’s—” he struggles to find his words, “—that’s not right.”

Again, she shrugs. “That’s life.”

Bear feels his eyes go hard. A coldness settles under his skin.

In the deep, dark gut of him, only anger lives. He spends his days questioning why God has allowed everything else in his life to fall apart, has allowed countless other people to die, but refuses, for reasons unbeknownst to him, to kill him. He’s given him enough opportunity and enough reason.

The answer he circles back to time and again is the same. An eye for an eye. Divine wrath. The litany of his sins could be sung until the end of time and there’d still be more to sing. It’s only right that there would be consequences for him.

The rage that simmers in his blood now is twofold. It begins with the sharp pang of injustice, of witnessing a punishment meted out to someone innocent. The girl standing by the booth he’s shoved himself into, almost too small for a man of his size, cannot be deserving of the same punishment that he’s brought upon himself. She has never killed. The babe in her belly has never killed. The two of them should never have to meet at the point of two paths converging with the likes of someone like Bear and proceed down the same road together.

Then it sinks into a familiar territory. A place at the core of him where righteousness gives way to envy, as it always does. After what he's been through, the thought of someone having everything that he's always desperately wanted handed to them on a silver platter and then sending it back leaves him feeling a bit off-kilter. Not quite right.

“Bear?” Her voice breaks the silence. When he blinks, concerned eyes stare down at him, brows furrowed. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” he rasps, dragging a hand down his face. Shaking it off. “Sorry, I—got lost in my head. Sorry.”

“That’s alright,” she says, again gentle in her voice and smile. “Easy place to get lost in, isn’t it?”

He makes a sound in acknowledgment. Drags the silence out. Her mouth twists shy under his scrutiny.

“Anyway, I have a few other tables to get to, if you don’t mind. Enjoy your pie. I’ll check on you in a bit.”

He eats his slice of pie in silence as she leaves, eyes following her to her next table. Rage still sizzles under his fingertips. It makes his hands shake, old nerve damage and anger problems.

It’s like a gun punch to think of her all on her own. It’s not right. For someone like him, well, it’s—deserved, earned. Inevitable, even. Every step taking him further away from grace, from its light. No one who knows his story would think otherwise.

She’s a pretty thing though, this new waitress. Too tired, the bags under her eyes testament to that, no matter how well she hides them with makeup. Slightly puffy anyway, maybe from a lack of sleep or too many tears. His stomach aches at the thought. It must have come as a shock, the bottom of her world dropping out from under her when the baby’s father took off. Dragged away from the church not through her own doing, but the fault of another. Not her shame to bear, and yet.

He forces the pie down. Bites that taste like nothing,

Bear hears the lilt of her voice from two tables over. “Refill on your coffee, hun?”

A supplicant sits in his place as he sips his coffee. The hour slips by into the next and it starts to come together in his mind. Why he's been forced down this long road alone, why God hasn't struck him down yet despite every terrible thing he's done. His eyes follow her flit across the diner, the light seeming to bend around her like a halation.

When Bear looks across the room at her, he thinks, Lord, do not think I am waiting patiently for your hands. Every part of me trembles with anxiety.

(O Lord, show me I can fall apart together again; but not just yet.)

He stays until the last customer has finally left, waiting for her to come back to his table with an apologetic smile. When she does, Bear hands her his empty plate, watching her take a step back when he scoots out of the booth, rising to his full height. He makes note of the way her eyes round as they follow him up. Taller than her, unsurprisingly. Surprising though, the way her bottom lip droops just the slightest bit.

“Is it just you closing up?” he asks, voice a tad too gruff. He clears his throat again, looking around for anyone else.

“Well, the chef’s cleaning up in the back, but, uh—” she looks around the diner, conspicuously empty apart from the two of them. “Yeah. Just me.”

Bear gestures with his chin towards the door. “I’ll wait ‘till you’re done, then walk you to your car.”

“Oh, Joe—”

“Bear,” he corrects.

“Bear,” she amends, fingers twisting together now. He relishes the sound of it on her lips. “You don’t have to. I’m used to it, honestly. I know I just started here, but I’ve done closes before, you know.”

“I’ll wait outside.” A statement now. Stubborn. He’s always been a bit mulish, hard to shake off.

He can tell the second she relents, shoulders slumping. “Alright. I shouldn’t be too long…you can leave if you get bored though. Won’t blame you.”

He fights the urge to tilt her head up by the chin to make her meet his eyes. Just barely restrains himself.

Leaning against a tree out front, he twirls the ring around his finger as he watches her clean up. For the first time in a long time, he slips it off.

#ceil writing #joe bear graves #six (2017)#joe graves #six #big bear

741 notes · View notes

highvern · 6 months

Text

Silk

Pairing: Kim Mingyu x fem!reader

Genre: smut, friends to lovers, established relationship

Warnings: weed mention, alcohol mention, moments of self-doubt/insecurity, oral (f. receiving), fingering, boyfriend Mingyu, making out, hickies, mentions of frat!svt, grinding, panty/pussy job, cumshot, first time together, mentions of previous partners, not seeing heaven pt II!

Length: ~4.3k

Note: another Drunk Goggles installment! this is probably gonna be the last one for a while tbh. im working on something new for my gamer boy husband wonwoo as we speak. "adamas et aurum" was written to balance the depravity that takes place.

MDNI! 18+ ONLY

read more here

Mingyu doesn’t recall the details of the first time he saw you naked. At least what your nude body actually looked like. He remembers it being at his frat’s mountain weekend junior year, that one of the other guys brought you as their date, and how Mingyu’s then girlfriend had broken up with him that morning when he came to pick her up to leave for the cabin. The second he arrived he holed up in his assigned room upstairs, listening as people arrived throughout the day from under the covers.

When he finally came down, he stumbled into an already out of hand game Truth or Dare thanks to Hoshi and his liberal drink pours. Everyone was laughing wildly, DK’s shirt was wrapped around his head, and Joshua looked like he had just taken a shower fully clothed.

“I dare you to go skinny dipping in the lake.”

Everyone knew about Jun’s crush on you so the dare just made Mingyu roll his eyes as he grabbed a beer and walked out onto the porch overlooking the water, hoping to drown his sorrows in the bottom of the bong he brought with him.

You had never been one to back down, so it was no suprise Mingyu was watching you sprint down the steps towards the lake, discarded clothes fluttering to the ground behind you. He caught sight of your bare rear seconds before you hit the surface with a splash, and that was that.

All in all, Mingyu doesn’t remember much about it.

But the first time Mingyu sees you naked as the girl he’s dating, he’s tempted to grab his phone and document the occasion so he can relive the moment again and again.

He hadn’t planned for anything to happen tonight beyond the nice dinner he treated you to followed by a stroll downtown. When he walked you to your door to kiss you goodnight, you invited him in. Mingyu thought it was because you didn’t want to end the night yet, happy to oblige you’re desire to prolong his company.

You’d confessed to each other almost a month ago, and in that time Mingyu tried to be nothing less than a gentleman. Most of his behavior is ingrained in him already: holding open the car door for you, walking on the outside of the sidewalk, getting you the same small bouquet of wildflowers you love from Ms. Kwon every Saturday. All of it as easy as breathing due to his innate drive to care for those who mean the most to him.

Other less appropriate behavior, reserved for you and only you, fights tooth and nail to claw its way out of the most depraved parts of his mind.

The first time you made out, he barely stopped himself from flipping over to pin you against the couch and have his wicked way with you. When he felt you up in the back of his car at the drive in for the first time like a desperate teenager, he had to actually bite his tongue to keep from ripping your shirt off and exploring everything underneath. The few times you’ve sent him suggestive text messages, usually accompanied by a photo of you in the bath with the naughtiest bits covered by bubbles or a suggestive mirror selfie that highlighted your figure, Mingyu nearly cries when stopping himself from sending an even more suggestive response.

The issue isn’t that he thinks you’d dislike him doing those things, tempting him more and more with each passing day. But Mingyu’s worst fear at this point in your very new relationship is that you’ll think he only wants you for sex. Scared shitless that he’s misread the signals you’ve given him, confused innocent gestures as a go ahead to lust and crave. So his simple solution is to not do anything, provide nothing that can point even remotely in that direction. A perfectly PG relationship so you don’t misunderstand his interest.

To say it was a bomb to your self-esteem is an understatement. Mingyu is always the one to pull away first, the one to stop things when they verge on being more, before anything can go too far. Tonight you invited him in with the intention to ask him what his deal was. You know he’s not inexperienced; confirmed by several of your friends in college sharing details after spending a night in his bed. And it hardly seems that he’s regretting sharing his feelings with you; never missing an opportunity to inform you how beautiful he thinks you are or how much he likes spending time with you. The collection of good morning and good night texts littering your phones, each a precious reminder that you’re the first person he thinks of when he gets up and last before he goes to sleep. Down to his eagerness in planning dates, making reservations or buying tickets the second he knows your calendar is clear, effort oozing from his pores. You don’t know any guy that would try even half as much as Mingyu does if they weren’t interested.

There didn't seem to be any hardware issues on his end either. The first time you made out on your couch, the tantalizing feel of his hard cock against your bottom told you he was at least attracted to you. You just don’t get why he doesn’t seem to want to touch you the same way you yearn to touch him.

Tonight starts like it always does. Sitting a little bit too close on the couch, Mingyu’s hand finding your thigh, your own playing with his fingers as you discuss this and that. He tells you how Wonwoo finally got the courage to ask out his coworker he had a crush on. You update him on the work drama with your manager.

Eventually, someone shuffles closer, eyes meet, a head tilts, and all of a sudden your tongue grazes his as he coaxes you into his lap.

Testing the waters, you gently rock your hips against his as you nip his earlobe, releasing a stifled gasp when he rise to meet you. Embolden by his response, your fingertips skate up his chest as you arch further into him, lips searching for his.

“We should—mhm— slow down.” Mingyu pants into your mouth, making no effort to remove himself from you despite his words.

“But I want you.” You gasp as the next buck of his hips has the rough fabric of his jeans grinding against your barely covered pussy as your short dress rucks up higher and higher on your hips.

Dropping to Mingyu’s neck, you hope the rake of your teeth on his jaw will convince him to touch you the way you desperately need.

Your right hand is twisted through his hair, sending chills down his neck when your nails scratch his scalp. The other covers his as you place it on your breast, arching your chest and urging him to give it a gentle squeeze.

“Fuck,” Mingyu groans, eyes trained on the way you fill his palm perfectly.

His next squeeze is answered with another moan. Mingyu knows it’ll burn his ears next time he’s alone in his room.

“Wait.” He breaths.

Mingyu’s tone tells you he’s serious. Still in his lap, you lean back to look down at his face.

His eyes are closed and long breath leaves his nose before he mutters, “We should stop.”

“Oh.” You exclaim shakily.

You try to not let the hurt that arises bleed into your voice but it’s impossible.

Crawling out of his space, you sit back on the cushion next to Mingyu, putting a foot of distance between you. You focus on anything else besides the man beside you, training your eyes on how your fingers pick at the hem of your dress. The silence between you two is uncomfortable in a way it's never been before.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.”

“Obviously it's not fine.”

“I guess I’m just,” you pause searching for the best way to explain yourself, still unable to look at him. “confused? Everytime we start, you know, you stop. Am I making you uncomfortable? Do you not want to?”

“No!” He winces, shocked by the booming volume of his own voice. “No, I just— I don’t want to make you do anything you don’t want to.”

Finally looking at him, you ask, “What part of putting your hand on my boobs makes you think I don’t want you to do it?”

“I,” Mingyu responds, hand dragging down his face. “I don’t wanna mess this up and push you too far o—”

“Mingyu, stop it!” You snap, annoyed with his self sacrificing. “You're not gonna mess anything up by touching me. I thought I made it pretty obvious I want you to.”

“You do?”

“Of course I do.” You try to reel in your irritation but it's impossible.

“Why are you mad?”

“Because you’re acting like I can’t make my own decisions.”

“That’s not what I–”

You jump up from the couch to stand in front of him, arms flailing as you grunt in frustration.

“Yes, it is!”

“I’m just trying to be a gentleman!”

“Well stop!”

“Fine!” he shouts, matching your own exasperation.

Mingyu throws you over his shoulder in a second, long legs carrying him towards your room. He’ll be damned if the first time he touches you, really touches you, is on the cramped lumpy couch in your living room.

“Put me down!” you yell, fist pounding at his back and kicking your legs in an attempt to get free.

A gentle slap on your ass has your breath stalling. It’s not enough to hurt, barely a brush of his hand but it has your mind reeling all the same.

“Be good.” Mingyu orders, voice rough as gravel.

Oh, wow.

“And if I’m not?”

His steps falter before he continues down the hall, “Haven’t thought that far ahead yet.”

Well at least he hasn’t been completely possessed.

He gently sets you down on the foot of your bed, stepping back to stand in front of you with his hands on his hips which cocks to the side. You almost laugh at the way he looks like a mom about to scold her kid.

“I’m not gonna fuck you tonight.” He states simply.

“Why not?” You protest.

Shame rises in your throat like bile when Mingyu hesitates.

“I wanna take things slow.”

“Oh…okay, that's okay.” You reassure him, reach to take one of his hands in yours. “We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to.”

“I do want to touch you. But we’re not having sex tonight.”

“That’s okay too.” You can’t hide the way your breath stutters, flashes of his hand between your legs clouding your mind.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you nod. “whatever you want.”

“Can I take your dress off?”

“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.” You tease, smiling mischievously up at him.

Mingyu's own mouth twists as he snags the neck of his shirt, subconsciously flexing the muscles along his arms and stomach enticingly as it rises over his frame. If anyone asks, he’d deny doing it on purpose but the way your eyes scorch across his skin makes him tense just a little bit more. His vision is blacked out by the fabric as it comes over his head, but when it's gone he sees heaven.

The lilac sundress you’d worn to dinner is gone, leaving your hair ruffled from its hasty removal, fluffed around your face enticingly. But it's what was under your dress that has Mingyu’s tongue on the verge of rolling out of his mouth and heart beating like a cartoon character. Your chest is wrapped in a silky pink bra, swells of flesh threatening to spill over the cups with each breath that stretches your lungs, stiff nipples poking through the edge of the fabric. The alluring pull of a matching pair of panties across your hips, accentuating your curves in the best ways, makes his cock twitch; but when you spread your legs, unveiling a tantalizing damp spot, nearly translucent where it clings to your folds teasingly, floods each of his senses with a specific type of hunger.

Fuck.

“Pants too.” You demand, but quickly correct yourself. “If that's okay.”

You stare at one another for a beat. The clank of Mingyu’s belt being undone is the only sound beyond the duet of shaky breaths. His eyes don’t leave your face as he bares himself down to his briefs, but yours skim down his body, blazing as they trail across his form, to settle on the obvious bulge behind the cotton. When you swallow harshly, Mingyu’s ego flares.

“Come here.” You beckon.

Complying easily, Mingyu covers your body with his; arms caging you in below him as your thighs spread to cradle his hips. He settles on top of you, length nestled snugly between your folds, tip nudging your mound with each breath. It's maddening. Especially when Mingyu can feel your arousal seeping through his underwear and coating the underside of his cock.

Your noses brush gently, fleeting passes of lips as you settle against one another. You’ve only ever briefly felt Mingyu through thick layers of clothing, whether that when you wiggle your way in his lap or the few times you’ve woken up with his length pressed snugly against your ass. It gave you an idea of his size but in no way prepared you for the feel of him now, rigid as steel against your soaking center and threatening to burn you from the inside out.

“Oh wow,” you gasp into his mouth, relishing in the slow curl of his hips against you.

“I know,” he nods, mind lost in the sweltering heat between your legs threatening to consume him.

You continue to writhe against one another, mouths meeting in rough passes of teeth and tongues. Your ankles lock at the base of his spine, pulling him firmly against you as your hands flutter across his skin, unable to stay in one place for long. Mingyu’s arm propped above you keeps his weight from crushing you, his other settles on the side of your neck, thumb tilting your chin up so his tongue can delve into your mouth.

A particularly delicious grind of his hips has your head thrown back, moan aimed at the ceiling as you thrash pathetically. It lets Mingyu look at you. Cheeks and chest glowing with a rosy tint, a faint sheen of sweat blooming across your skin as you whine in his hold. The straps of your bra have fallen down your arms, one nipple peeking out from under the fabric, taunting him.

The harsh suck of his mouth across your breast pulls your back tight like a bowstring. His tongue worships your chest, laving broad strokes you imagine will feel amazing on other parts of your body. He's everywhere, consuming you like a blackhole, ripping apart your entire being and leaving you disoriented. Head tipped back, you bare as much of yourself as possible for Mingyu to touch and tease; all while your abdomen tenses as your lower half cants against his.

Arching just enough to give you room to reach around, you snag the clasp of your bra relieved that the underwire is no longer digging into your chest uncomfortably. Your arms raise to pull it off, leaving you bare from the waist up for Mingyu to admire.

“Like what you see?” You whisper, relishing in the shell shocked expression on Mingyu’s features.

He can only nod, gaze burning a hole through your chest straight to your heart.

One of his hands cup your chest gently, taking time to let the weight of the swollen flesh settle in his palm. He thumbs the stiff peak, still glossed with his spit from his earlier ministrations. Mingyu puckers his lip to blow a cool stream of air, delighting in the choke whine you release.

“Can I touch you too?”

“Please.” he moans, diving to leave a bruise on the side of your breast.

A depraved idea enters your head, whispering from the most primal parts of your mind. Mingyu said he’s not going to fuck you and you respect that wholeheartedly; the idea of waiting warming your soul. But you want to feel as much of him as possible; revel in the slide of his scorching length against you, deliver the long overdue pleasure you both want.

“If you don’t like it we can stop.”

“Okay.”

Mingyu doesn't inform you that he doubts he'll dislike anything you do to him. Instead, he stares at your hand pushing his underwear down, fingers circling his cock in awe as you touch him for the first time. His body is miles away from his brain, like he’s drowning under crashing waves and you’re the sun he can see on the surface. Your thumb smears the beads of pre-cum collected at his tip, twisting your tight grip around the head to work him up. Sweat breaks out on his forehead, muscles in his arms jumping at the feeling of your smooth palm. He knows the image of your hand wrapped around his cock is branded in his mind forever.

But then you do something he doesn’t expect. Your free hand grabs your underwear, moving the crotch to the side and uncovering your slit entirely. The flesh that peeks out from the outer folds is flushed a delicious pink, glistening in the low light with the evidence of your desire. When you hook the bulbous head of his cock under the hem he panics for a second, afraid you’re going to slip him inside. But you just wiggle you hips till he nudges your engorged clit, skin on skin with no barrier. Letting go of the fabric, Mingyu thinks he might be drooling when his cock is covered by soaked silk, sandwiching him against you. The erotic sight kills any coherent thoughts he has left.

“You’re —,” Mingyu starts, tongue heavy in his mouth. “What the fuck—”

He can’t stop watching how his cock moves, able to discern the nearly purple head of his length through the see-through silk that clings to his weeping tip. Your hand rests on your mound over your panties, pointer and middle finger forming a V to border the flared head on either side, giving him a bumper to grind against and forcing him a fraction harder against you.

“Move.” you beg, voice just as wrecked as his. “Please, Gyu.”

Who is he to deny you any longer?

Arms straining as he holds himself up, Mingyu keeps his gaze trained on where you're connected, entranced. Below him, you’re twisting in the sheets, twitching with each prod against your clit but your hand keeps him from slipping away.

Flashes of how from any other angle it looks like he’s drilling you into the bed, stuffing you with his cock rather than rutting against you pathetically, enter his mind. The firm pressure of your knees against his sides, ankles brushing his waist with each roll of his hips barely register in his conscious. Free hand scratching against his chest, your nails raise red lines and dimple his flesh with tiny crescents as he pummels your clit, slick with a mixture of his spunk and your own arousal. Needy whimpers singing into his ears are answered with his own groans, tempting him to shut his eyes and just feel if not for the vision below him.

The realization that he can feel you clench pitifully where his balls press against you, teasing him to just angle his hips a little bit lower and take you like he desperately wants has him surging against you even harder.

The sudden rush of stimulation overwhelms you, forcing your mind to shut down. It's all too much. The feeling of Mingyu above you, using your pussy to get off, fogs your brain. The crude rhythmic squelch where you meet sends shooting stars across the corners of your eyes. How his cock presses against your clit just so, dribbles of his pre-cum coating your most sensitive parts. The harsh squeezes of his hand on your breast, pinching the stiff peek of your nipple while his teeth nip your neck you feel like you might pass out.

“Mingyu!” You keen, chest pressing against his, allowing you both to revel in the drag of your skin on his.

The broken sound of his name on your lips skyrockets Mingyu to his end. Euphoria exploding in his chest, pleasure running from his balls to the tip of his cock as he loses all control of his body. His chest caves and breath stops as he jerks in your hold, rutting against you as his seed pushes through the ruined fabric of your underwear, collecting in globs above where his tip rests right on your clit; you’re fingers still pressing down on your underwear glossed in the overflowing pool of pearly fluid. Mingyu leans up as far as he can to watch, wishing to live this moment again and again.

“Fuck, fuck!” He chants horsly, unable stop his own hips, even when the friction becomes tortious.

With one last pass he finally calms, muscles spasming as he collapses onto your chest.

The heavy weight pressing you into the bed makes you shudder below, another rush of wetness escaping.

“Good?”

Mingyu just groans into your shoulder, attempting to catch his breath.

“You’re crazy.”

You give an indignant huff, jaw clenching in mock annoyance.

“Don’t act like you don’t know.”

“Yeah well you clearly liked it!”

“My beautiful girlfriend just let me get off using her panties that she’s wearing. I’d be insane if I didn’t.”

“Girlfriend?”

Suddenly, you're breathless for an entirely new reason.

“If that’s okay with you.” Mingyu mumbles, comically shy as if he didn’t just cum on you.

“That’s definitely okay with me.”

“Good.”

“Now, how about you make your girlfriend come too?”

Mingyu nearly falls off the bed in his haste to do just that. Throwing your legs wide, he bullies his way between your thighs to gape at the mess of your panties. Nothing he’s ever seen in his life can compare. Something he doesn’t think even the most debased part of his brain could have imagined but you’ve given him knowledge of a kink he didn’t even know he had. Mingyu just stares, damning his refractory period; ruining the carnal desire to cover you in his seed again and again, until the possessive part of his brain is sated and you’re both on the verge of unconsciousness.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” You chide above, impatience reading its head.

“Don’t play with me right now.”

You don’t want to overwhelm him more than you have so you bite your tongue against the urge to tell him you're serious. Maybe next time you’ll let him know how much the idea of him walking around with such a salacious image on his phone turns you on.

“Then touch me, Gyu.”

As pretty as you are covered in silk soaked with his cum, Mingyu knows you’re even more beautiful without the scrap of fabric. Taking a second to rub the puddle of fluids back into the fabric, you twitch as the pad of his finger massages your sensitive clit. When your hips pitch forward to seek more friction, he nearly rips your underwear with his clumsy hands in his haste to free you from them. At the sight of your bare slit, Mingyu pauses. The number of choices he’s presented with nearly drowns him; whether to taste or tease, stuff your clenching hole with his fingers or lick you from top to bottom, maybe make you show him what you like before trying it himself.

But first, Mingyu needs a better look at what he’s working with.

“Hold your legs open, baby.”

Before he can blink, your hands eagerly hook under your knees to spread yourself wide, void a timidity as you reveal yourself; unveiling every hill and valley, soft flesh dappled with pearls of his cum. Desire rushes Mingyu forward to collect the mess with his tongue, a throaty groan clawing its way out of his chest at the combination of fluids.

“Taste so fucking good,” he rasps. “You’re so hot.”

Lightening erupts in your veins under the languid heat of his tongue, every muscle twitching as he delivers maddening swirls through your folds. The fact that Mingyu is tasting the lasting traces of himself as he eats you out is like a punch to the gut. Broad strokes against your clit distract you from his hand sneaking up to circle your opening before a thick finger enters you.

But the stretch isn’t nearly enough for how wrecked you feel, already teetering on the edge.

“More!”

The hand you’ve ghosted down your front is pinned to the bed before you can even make it below your belly button.

“You’re gonna take what I give you.” He informs you, but gives you another finger all the same.

When a needy moan tickles his ears, Mingyu knows you’re waving a white flag, a wordless plea for him to continue playing with you as he pleases.

Fingers pistoning, Mingyu’s pointed tongue circles the bundle of nerves at the top of your slit. When he crooks the digits buried deep inside you, your back leaves the bed. The hand pinning your wrist abandons its grip, allowing him to use his fingers to spread your folds and keep your clit uncovered for his tongue to lash at.

“Don’t stop,” you cry, voice thick and broken. “Please, I’m so close.”

Both of your hands find the soft strands of his hair to hold him in place. Your feet plant on the bed beside his wide shoulders, allowing you to hump his face pathetically as the drenched squelch of Mingyu’s mouth against you fills your ears.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,”

Your finish is bubbling to the surface, a roaring boil in your blood that deafens all your senses except where your boyfriend plays with you. Mingyu’s arm stretches up your torso to palm your breast, fingers pulling your taunt nipple. He’s pulling out all the stops, trying his hardest to send you over the edge.

“Come on, pretty girl. Let me make you come.” he begs around your clit.

“Please!” you sob. “Please, please, please!”

You’re in a frenzy above him, ecstasy inches away. Your hips bucking is so hard they threaten to dislodge him but Mingyu takes it in stride. Elbowing your thighs apart, forcing them up and open to pin you in place so he can keep going. It tickles a part in your brain that imagines what he’ll do when he does fuck you for the first time, spreading you out before making you take his cock.

The visual paired with stretch from a third finger sets you free.

“I’m—Mingyu! Oh my god!”

The simmer in your blood boils over, starting at your core and rushing to your toes and fingertips. Wrecked moans leave your bruised lips, eyes squeezed against the licks of pleasure overwhelming you. The only thing you can hear is the rush of blood in your ears as every muscle in your quivers so hard tears gather in your eyes. He doesn’t stop as you twitch in his hold, arms flexing as he strains to keep you spread so he can work you through it. You clench so hard around his fingers his arm halts before putting in more effort to pummeling your pussy. When you cry at the overstimulation he finally relents, delivering a last long lick along your slit before moving away.

Mingyu’s face is soaked, chin and cheeks covered in your juices, nose and cheeks flushed. You just stare, mouth open in wonder as he sucks his fingers clean.

“Holy shit.”

“You okay?”

“Shhhhh.” You press a finger to his pursed lips. “Brain goo, hot boyfriend just made me cum.”

Mingyu crawls up your body, peppering gentle kisses here and there as he goes. When you're face to face you just stare at each other, expressions full of fondness and exhaustion.

“But seriously, where the fuck did you learn that?”

Mingyu’s question is answered with a maniacal giggle.

#svthub #svt x reader #kim mingyu x reader #mingyu smut #svt smut #seventeen smut #kim mingyu smut #dghe couple #🫡 highvern

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sunshine-and-moonshine · 4 months

Text

The Three Bear Hybrids

Summary: You find yourself lost in the woods at night but luckily there’s a cozy cabin you can take a rest in! Sure hope there aren’t any lustful bear hybrids who own this cabin….

Warnings: Reader has a Vagina (no pronouns or tits mentioned), Smut, Breeding Kink, Spit Kink (Kinda? Lots of slobber), Reader really just broke into these men’s house, Dub-con (reader is described as having a hazy mind at times, implied like pheromone shit or something)

Pairings: Bear Hybrids!Ghost, Price, and Gaz x Reader

A/N: Any spelling mistakes you see are between me and the Devil so if you see them then shhhhhh

It was a bit cliche to say that it was a dark and stormy night, but you couldn’t find better words to describe it. The sky pitch black, sparkling stars and the bright full moon covered by thick black storm clouds, a deep cold settling into your bones. And you were caught right in the middle of the woods, lost in the forest while out picking mushrooms for tomorrow’s breakfast. You cursed yourself under your breath, worried eyes looking up towards the clouds just as a few droplets started to fall down on you from the heavens. With no other choice, you resigned to find your way home in the morning, wrapping your cloak around your body tightly to fend off the chill and the rain, a new haste in your steps as you trudged through the forest, almost tripping over roots and rocks that you could not see without the guidance of the moon’s light or your lantern that you had stupidly left at home, thinking that you would not be long. Nothing to help you find an alcove of thick brush trees or an abandoned cave to protect yourself against the coming storm.

Nothing save for a faint glow in the distance, a beacon calling out to you in the night. And like a moth to a flame, you followed it. Relief filling your weary bones when you set eyes upon a large cabin nestled cozily in the forest. A bit tattered on the outside, lacking any love. No pretty decorations or painted walls. Vines and moss growing up the sides, the door left cracked open and seeming to be broken off of its hinges, but set firmly in the place it should be to keep the inside warm. Carefully, you approached. Moving the door was a bit of a struggle but you managed it, and you were able to slip inside before placing it back in the frame, looking around at the interior of the cabin when you were sure the door wouldn’t fall on your head the second you turned your back to it.

The inside of the cabin was just as sparse as the outside. Everything made of plain wood, crudely made, everything seeming to be made just for its purpose with no care of how it looked. The table in the living room was crooked, the couch propped up by thick books instead of proper legs. The kitchen bare save for a single freezer box, packed full of meat and varying sizes of jars filled with jellies, jams, and fruit. The glow that called to you earlier revealed to be a small candle left burning in the windowsill, which you grabbed and used to light your way in the plain cabin. Not that there seemed to be much to see in the first place. The only thing of real note being that everything seemed to be made for giants, all the furniture almost comically big. But nothing was as big as the beds. Three plush mattresses in an almost perfect row, just a few inches from each other in the same room. Curiously, you ran your hand over the one in the left corner. Stiff as a rock, and you wondered who could sleep on something so hard. The next bed was softer. Too soft in fact. When you laid your hand on it, it felt like it was just a pile of blankets instead of a mattress. Certainly cozier then the first, but you doubted such a mattress was good for someone’s back. Oh but the third bed!

The third bed was just right.

The perfect mix of soft and firm, still warm with the heat of whoever had last slept on it. And when you couldn’t help but lean in closer, there was a soft alluring musk that waived off of the sheets. It lulled you, made your head fuzzy and stupid. You couldn’t stop yourself from curling up into the bed, that scent embracing you like a long gone lover as you wrap your cloak tighter around yourself just to stave off the slight nip in the air. Just a short nap, you promised yourself. The owners of this cabin surely wouldn’t even notice you were there. You’d be long gone by the time they came back.

The assurances you told yourself were enough to ease you into fully closing your eyes, a sigh of contentment slipping from your parted lips just as the rain outside started pouring down, covering up the sound of heavy footsteps crunching cobblestone beneath their weight.

You awoke to the sound of voices. Your mind still hazy with sleep, cocooned in that nice comfy feeling of warmth and safety and laziness. The kind of feeling you never wanted to wash away just because of how good it made you feel. But the feeling never lasted, and it started to drip away from you like ice melting in the spring sun.

“But they’re sleeping in your bed, Price!” A voice hissed softly, like they were trying to keep themselves quiet. Were they trying not to wake you? It seemed like an odd thing to do when whoever it was was clearly panicked.

“I can see that, Gaz.” A rougher voice said in return, a deep sigh following the statement, and you felt the hair resting on your cheek be shifted away. Still sleep dumb, you could only sigh and snuggle further into the large warm pillows beneath your head, almost missing the amused chuckle sounding from above you. And then suddenly your whole body was being moved, the bed shifting beneath the weight of another person as they pulled themselves onto the mattress with you, tucking themselves up against you. It was what finally drained the last of your sleepiness away, and you tried to shoot up in the bed in your panic.

Tried being the key word here.

An arm, thick and muscular, shot up at the same time you did, wrapping around your chest and yanking you back down, pulling you chest to chest with an older looking man, his blue eyes sparkling beneath the faint rays of the rising sun shining in through the window at your back. They looked like the sea, bright and mysterious, beautiful. You felt like you could drown in them, like they’d pull you under their waves and fill your lungs with that blue til you couldn’t breathe. Unbidden, you felt heat rise up in your cheeks as those blue eyes narrowed at you, clearly not impressed with your pathetic escape attempt.

“Easy, Honey.” That gruff voice, hoarse and rough but almost melodic to your ears, said, a hand running down your back at the exact same time, pulling you even closer somehow. Not giving you the room to run away or fight him off. “We’re not gonna hurt ya, Honey. It’s okay, just calm down.”

Surprisingly, his words did wonders to ease your nerves, your flailing turning to light shaking as he kept looking into your eyes. But your own look beyond him, at the two men standing just at the edge of the bed. One tall, taller than the man holding you, scars criss crossing all over his face, brown eyes looking almost like warm honey in the light. But, seemingly a bit unnerved by your looking, he turned his face away. Looking down at the man beside him. Shorter than the other two but his smile seemed to fill the room, warmer than the sun, eyes a darker brown. Like the wood of a great oak tree, strong and steadfast, but glinting with boyish mischief.

And it was just about then that you noticed something….peculiar about the three men. Namely the round fluffy ears that sat atop their heads, twitching at every sound in the room. And if you looked closely, you were sure that you could see a small fluffy tail twitching excitedly behind the shortest man, and the sound of one lazily thumping against the bed coming from the man holding you. More than a bit confused, you opened your mouth to question them, but the scarred man beat you to the punch.

“What are you doing in our cabin?” He asked, his tone defensive, full of bite, like the dog of your neighbor who so fiercely defended his properly. It made fear peak up again, but it didn’t escalate into full blown panic as the man holding you started to rub his nose against your neck, sniffing you like some forest beast. The heat in your cheeks only intensified, especially when he let out some pleased sound that rumbled deep in his chest.

“I…..got lost. In the forest.” You tell him, biting back a sharp gasp as the man licks a long trail from your neck up to your ear, nosing against it before nipping your lobe. It should have unnerved you, frightened you, but it only made a warmth pool in your cheeks and belly. For some inexplicable reason, you enjoyed it. And so did the man, if the rapidly hardening bump against your thigh was any indication.

“And you decided that breaking into our cabin was the best course of action?” He asked with a quirked brow, disbelief in his eyes. But he seemed nervous, twitching just like the man beside him, both of them seeming almost possessed. Licking their lips and sniffing the air like their was something delicious cooking in the other room.

“I-It was the only shelter I could find.” You tell him, eyes going a bit hazy as the man holding you suddenly shifts, laying you flat on your back and hunching over you, growling as he works to untie the tight strings of your cloak before angrily ripping at it when it would not bend to his will. You wanted to be angry, but find that you couldn’t summon the will to tell him off when he just dived for the open skin of your collarbones, sucking and licking with a fervent need.

“And sleeping in our beds, that was also for shelter?” The scarred man huffed, his tone softer now, thick with something heated and warm as the shortest man stepped closer, starting to undo the laces of your shirt, delving beneath the loosened fabric to stroke eager fingers over your pebbled nipples. You shuddered, head tilting back with a soft whimper as he leans in, whispering against your ear, breathe heating up your skin.

“My name is Gaz.” He says, and you immediately stored that information away, moaning out the name softly when he pinched one of your nipples before lazily rolling it between his fingers. “And this one, the one sucking on you like some cub? That’s Price. And the big fucker behind me is Ghost. He’s a bit shy though, Love. Needs a bit more incentive to come closer. Why don’t we get you undressed and show him what he’s missing out on?” Gaz suggested, and you couldn’t help but nod, your fate sealed as he ripped your shirt clean off your skin, Price already working on your pants, yanking open your legs and letting the sweet honey scent of you fill the air, all their eyes going hazy, all thought washing away from them as they all tried to lunge for your wet core, growling and huffing at each other, tongues darting out for a taste and getting angrier and angrier when they kept accidentally licking at each other in their eagerness.

But you? You were drenched in bliss, the feeling of three tongues fighting between your legs, thighs forced open wide to accommodate them all, hearing them growl like wild animals just for a single lick of you. It was incredibly arousing and the mewl you let out when one of their noses bumped against your clit was loud, all eyes snapping up to your face. Lust all over their faces, mad with it, hungry beasts who wanted nothing more than to tear you apart on their mouths and cocks.

Eventually, after several minutes of the battle for your cunt, Price was the one who growled at the other two to get back, loud and ferocious. Gaz backed away with little resistance but Ghost growled right back, reaching out to grab at your hips and try to drag you closer. That was, until Price gripped the scruff of his neck and practically ripped him away from you, the bigger man going limp before finally backing away with a soft grumbling noise.

Price then turned to you, a happy gleam in his eyes as he leaned down between your thighs again, tongue slower then before, like he was trying to savor a delicacy as he licked a long stripe from ass to clit, his groan reverberating through your lower half in a way that made a tingle go through your belly. And then he was all wild animal again, starved for your pussy as he lapped and succked and nibbled, his nose grinding against your clit and his beard leaving raw scratches along your inner thighs that you knew would be tender for days to come. But in this intense you couldn’t care less, throwing your head back with a loud moan, clamping your legs shut around his head, feet resting between his shoulder blades. It did little to deter him, only seemed to encourage him in fact, and he dug his fingertips into the undersides of your thighs, not letting you open or close them any further, practically suffocating him in your pussy. Just as Gaz was taking to sucking at your nipples like a welp, soft moaning sounds made against your flesh, his eyes closed whenever he pulled back to switch his affections to the other pert bud, licking and kissing along the expanse of your chest, leaving little untouched by his sinfully talented mouth.

And Ghost. Oh Ghost was just enjoying the show, his eyes wide as they roamed over your body and the two men worshipping it, his hand beneath his pants, stroking slowly to the sight of you getting tongue fucked by Price. It wasn’t til you reached a hand out to him that he approached, leaning down to sniff at your wrist a little before licking it, laughing under his breath when you jolted, his free hand coming up to hold your palm against his cheek as he continued to jerk himself off, eyes locked onto yours, his orgasm hitting him at almost the exact time yours hit you, almost twin like soft noises falling from both of your mouths as he leaned in to kiss you, all tongue and teeth, saliva dripping down your cheeks as he bit your lips and licked alonhg the inside of your cheeks. It was the best kiss you’d ever had, and you didn’t want it to end, whining with disappointment when he pulled back to allow you to breathe. But you just grabbed the front of his shirt, yanking him back down and forcing your mouth against his, pleased with the rumbling groan he let out in response. It was heavenly, he was heavenly, they all were. You’d never felt such pleasure in your life. The haze over your mind making thoughts sink far out of your reach, like a stone in water. The wave of heat over your body like a comforting childhood blanket. And you were sure nothing would ever feel better than this.

But you were quickly proven wrong when Price shifted between your legs, sitting up straight over you as he shifted down your pants, yanking your lower half closer to him so he could run his cock through your warm wet folds, tapping the large mushroom head against your clit almost playfully before sliding in with one firm thrust that had you crying out with pain tinged pleasure. But they held you through it, all of them. Ghost’s big palms on your cheeks, Gaz’s holding your hands, and Price’s squeezing your hips. Oh and it felt like coming home when Price was rooted inside you to the base, tip so close to brushing against your cervix that it made you want to scream. It burned, in both good and bad ways, but thankfully he gave you time to adjust. Letting his boys shower you with affectionate kisses for a few moments before he gave a slow experimental thrust.

Instantly, pleasure shot up through you like a bolt of lighting and you jolted beneath them, keening and wiggling, much to their amusement. But it was all that Price needed to know, setting a steady pace that battered at your slick walls pleasurably, stretching you out in a way you were sure that you would never fully recover from, sure to gape from the width of him when he would pull out, an ever present reminder of him. The thought made you clench and he snarled, fighting against the resistance your walls gave him, struggling to pull and push when you were clamping down on him so tight. He clicked his tongue, hand reaching down to rub rough circles on your stiff clit, more force behind his thrusts now, unwilling to be deterred by your body’s tightness.

“Gonna breed you.” Price huffed, voice thick, sticking like honey in his throat, like it was hard for him to speak. “All of us are gonna breed you full, Honey. Give you a few cute little cubs to take care of come spring. Maybe get lucky and have one from each of us. That sound good to you, Honey? Can’t wait to see you with a cub on your hip, feeding another one in your arms. Never gonna stop giving you little babies to take care of. You’re ours now. Swell like ours. Sweet little mate, we’ll take care of you.” He promises, his words sending molten lava through your veins, only able to stare up at him as he tilted his head back and growled. Not like the playful and commanding ones he used just previously, but something animalistic, inhuman. Terrifying and arousing at the same time. Ghost and Gaz pulled back just enough to make similar sounds, something in them becoming even wilder at the sound, diving back into you like you were a buffet, slobbering all over your body as they left no inch of you kisses and suckled at, pawing at you and humping your sides to relieve their aching cocks, tension building and building and building.

Until it snapped along with that knot in your belly, your orgasm washing over you as your sight becomes overtaken by a sheen of white, back arching to the heavens as you cry out, the sound copied by the man above you, his own pleasure shown in the ropes of thick white sperm that he sprayed inside you, hips nestling against yours, unwilling to let even a drop spill free as the two other bear hybrids already begin to bicker amongst themselves as to who would get the next turn with you. But all you could focus on was the ceiling, wondering what on God’s green earth you’d gotten yourself into now.

#fairy tale au #cod #call of duty #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #John price #john price x reader #kyle gaz garrick #kyle gaz garrick x reader

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lucid-loves · 4 months

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Taste Like Venom ~ Simon "Ghost" Riley Part 1

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x assassin!reader (fem!reader, no use of y/n, callsign “Hex”)

Word Count: 3.4k

CW: angst, violence, blood, strong language, scars, enemies to friends to lovers trope, slow burn, plot, clear attraction and sexual tension, smut later on, reader POV and ghost POV, minors dni, Soap lives in this AU

Let me know if I missed any CWs.

Synopsis: After Makarov gets away again, Laswell decides to force a favor from you, the world’s greatest assassin and best-kept secret. You are now expected to help the 141 with taking down Makarov in addition to playing nice with them. It’s hard to play nice when you have always worked alone. It doesn’t help that one of the team members, Ghost, gets curious about you with each interaction.

Part 1 ~ Part 2 ~ Part 3 ~ Part 4 ~ Part 5 ~ Part 6 ~ Part 7 ~ Part 8 ~ Part 9 ~ Part 10

You’ve always been a light sleeper, if you could even be called that. The truth was that you hardly slept at all. Bedtime was always more like cat-nap time. Light, soundless, ready to pounce at the sound of dust falling to the floor. That’s how you trained yourself and the habit stuck, even if you don’t take missions anymore. It was hard to deprogram a killing machine.

The two years have been peaceful even if you were always on edge. Semi-retirement has been kind in only giving you the sounds of the forest trees in the wind, the gentle rush of the creek, birds singing every morning, and most importantly, no visitors. The world didn’t know that you existed and you preferred to keep it that way for as long as you could. While you did feel the phantom blood dripping down your hands every now and then to an unsettling reminiscent degree, you did like this little slice of heaven that was your off-grid cabin. It was a good place to be before you undoubtedly go to hell in the end.

You were in your bed when you heard the rustling of the forest floor just outside your window. Steps. But not the steps belonging to a fox or bear you have learned to recognize over time. These were the steps of a man. No, multiple men. The way the foot falls of a man walking is an undeniable melody you have heard thousands of times. In the dead of night, you bolted up out of bed and reached for your throwing knife and a pistol, always kept at your bedside. Like a thief in your own home, you silently followed the sounds outside along the walls until you reached the living room. They were going to come in through the front door.

Under the cover of darkness, you readied your aim at the door. To your surprise, they were messing with the keypad that locked your house down, inputting codes with a subtle click and then beep of a correct code. No one should know the code except for two people. Laswell and yourself.

As soon as the door revealed moonlight and a silhouette, you fired your gun. A warning shot. Grazing right past neck. The men stopped and immediately aimed their own rifles, but the one in front held his hand up in surrender. Following orders, the rifles were lowered. You were the first to speak, your voice dripping with venom. “State your purpose and maybe I won’t kill you all where you stand.”

A gentle yet deep Liverpudlian accent voiced back. “Easy now. We don’t mean harm. Laswell sent us here. Code Swan.”

“Song?” You replied, your muscles still tense, unwilling to lower your defenses until the full code was complete. It is what ensured both yours and Laswell’s safety.

“Black Death.” He replied back. You stayed in position for a few moments before finally sighing and lowering your weapon. You turned on a table lamp next to you to get a better look at the intruders. Four men stood in your doorway. One with a fishing hat, one with a mohawk, one with a baseball cap, and one with a skull mask. They were all tall, big with muscle, and seemingly not American from their patches. An interesting bunch to say the least.

“Fucking Laswell.” You cursed Kate’s name. She should have contacted you about this. You were just about to paint the porch with her mens’ brains. You hated surprises. You often killed them before finding out the intentions.

With a wave of your hand, you invited the men to come into your cabin. They cautiously came in, surveying the layout and now understanding what Kate meant when she said that you were “belligerent.”

You turned on the main lights and tried to get a fire going to relieve some of the autumn chill that had crept through the house. Their leader began to unload his things on the kitchen table, sighing from the weight relief. His men joined in, save for one. You could feel his eyes on you as you encouraged the fire. You didn’t even have to look back to know that he was watching your every move.

“It’s rude to stare.” You warned curtly as you stood and turned. The man in the skull mask and balaclava didn’t avert his gaze.

His voice was rich and gruff like gaboon ebony. His Manchester accent came clear as day. “You’re half naked.”

He was referring to the large band shirt and boyshort panties that you were wearing. What did he expect from someone that thought that enemies were breaking in? You rolled your eyes and scoffed. “I’m in my pajamas. Besides, a good soldier shouldn’t get distracted by any amount of nudity.”

His blue eyes narrowed at your dig. He was a good soldier. An excellent soldier actually. One of the best. But excellent, good, or bad, no one would be able to resist staring at your figure. The exposed thighs, the large neckline of the shirt hanging off your shoulder, various scars scattered across skin like an abstract painting. He’s never seen anyone like you before.

Too bad you had a combative mouth.

Before he could get a word in, you had walked off into the kitchen, not bothering to go get pants on. It was your home for fuck’s sake. Besides, there were more pressing matters than your clothes or lack thereof.

You began to pull out all the food you had out of your fridge. Everything from deli meat to leftover lasagna was being laid out on the large quartz island. You weren’t going to heat anything up or make something new, but the laid out spread would be enough. You weren’t a completely heartless host. Just a bare minimum one.

Once the food was out for pickings, you headed back near the dining room, leaning against the doorframe. The boys had maps, blueprints, and laptops covering every surface of your table. Your beautiful, hand-made pine table. This was to be their new safehouse for now. Hopefully not for too long.

“Captain, it’s connecting now.” The one with the mohawk called out. The captain came right over to greet the screen.

“Laswell, can you hear us?”

“Loud and clear, John. Did everything go well?” Kate chipperly asked. You haven’t heard her voice in a long while. You almost forgot how nice her voice actually was.

“She nearly shot my fuckin’ neck off.” Mohawk-guy grumbled.

Kate gave a light, short laugh. “Sounds like it went smoothly then. The best that it could be. She there?”

All four men looked up to you, expecting you to come over and face Laswell through the screen. However, you stayed where you were. Instead, you spoke loud enough for your friend to hear. “Kate Laswell.”

“Hex, I’m sorry that I couldn’t warn you about this beforehand. You know I wouldn’t have done this if it wasn’t an emergency situation.” She began to apologize and justify. It was always an apology followed by a justification. You wondered if she even ever means her apologies, but in the end, you never really cared enough. However, now it is different.

“I don’t exist, Kate. And now four new people know that I do. . .” You retorted back.

It was silent for a moment, the tension in the air thick. She was on the other side of the screen, but it felt like you were going to get into a physical fight with her anyways. “They’re trustworthy. I trust them with my life and the lives of millions upon millions. Just like I trust you. And as the only people that I trust, I need you to help them.”

“They have already taken over my home. What more do you want from me?” You clenched your jaw, trying to prepare yourself for an answer you probably wouldn’t like. Like hell were you going to play dorm mother to them and like hell you were going to just move out. The last thing you wanted was to take care of these men longer than necessary. This was already pushing that line for you.

“Athame.” She bluntly said. That was the worst answer she could have said. The confused looks the men gave each other made you grateful for a fleeting second. They didn’t understand your secret codes and languages. But they will soon.

Your jaw was clenched so hard that your teeth ached. You damn near cracked them. While your voice before was dripping with venom, it was now drowning in it. “Are you fucking kidding me?!”

“Hex, I-”

You finally came over, nearly pushing the captain out of the way in your warpath. Through the screen, Kate could see how angry you were. Not just angry, furious. She steeled herself, ready for your onslaught of curses, stopping herself midway through her explanation. “I don’t do this shit, Kate! I work solo for a very particular fucking reason. And now you want me to work with four strange men?! Now you want me to play nice?! I’m not a fucking soldier that can just be ordered around!”

“I know! I know. . . But. . . we’re desperate. I’m desperate, Hex. Please, this is the last favor I will ever ask from you. This is an awful target we’re talking about. Someone that is better off in this world dead.”

“You mean Makarov, right? Why should I clean up your government’s fuck-up? Again, might I add.” You spat. You lived off the grid and weren’t a citizen of anywhere, but you still watched the news. You always knew what was going on in the world among other secrets. Makarov was a threat to the world, but as far as you were concerned, it wasn’t your problem. If anything, the government needed this lesson as a direct consequence of their negligence and incompetence.

“Because Chalice.” She simply stated, knowing that her final word was a last ditch effort. Chalice was an agreement that you two had made long ago. It could only be used once in your lives, a truly desperate resort for help. If one of you uttered it, then the other would have no choice but to help, no matter the request. That was the law between your friendship, among other things. The other code words were favors, but this was the ultimate one. Life or death.

You considered punching the laptop in anger. Right at Kate’s face. You didn’t like her call for Athame or Chalice, but now you didn’t have a choice but to comply. It didn’t mean that you weren’t still furious though. “Fuck you, Kate.”

“Thank you, Hex.” She breathed a sigh of relief. She wanted to tell you more about what she needed from you, but she knew that you had to cool off first otherwise you would burst into flames. That would've made things harder for all of you. So, she nodded as a signal for dismissal which you gladly took. You retreated to your room, locking the door shut and basking in the darkness.

You could feel the blood boil within you. It burned your insides and choked you. Grabbing your pillow, you pressed it against your face and screamed out your frustration. When that didn’t help, you punched the exposed logs of your cabin wall until your knuckles were splintered and bleeding.

Ghost sat on the couch, his thoughts swirling with uncertainty. The rest of the meeting with Laswell was brief, wanting them to try to decompress for the next several hours. Sleep, eat, process. All in the comfort of an assassin’s home.

Compared to your personality, the cabin was decorated warmly. Everything was cozy, earthy, and fresh. The fire crackled comfortably, the plush couch was broken in, and every wooden piece of furniture looked hand-made. Bookshelves were filled with classic books and another shelf collected various music records. The only thing that seemed out of place was the lack of real personal mementos. No pictures, no art, not even knick-knacks. The others didn’t seem to notice or care as they picked through the food left in the kitchen. But for Simon, it left him uneasy.

He recalled the briefing before they were sent to the middle of nowhere to you. Kate said that you were an old friend of hers from high school. You have been friends ever since, but you were different than most people. You were a deadly assassin unknown by the world. No records, no pictures, not even a birth certificate. You handled delicate problems with grace and grave justice. You always worked alone, you didn’t trust others, and you were deadly. Everything about you was a secret until Kate made the crucial choice to ask for your help. Hell, they didn’t even know your call sign until Kate said it over the video call.

“You should eat, Lt. There’s a lot of options, but they’re dwindling fast.” Soap patted him on the shoulder, awakening him from deep thought. Ghost looked up at the sergeant, watching him stuff a sandwich into his mouth. It looked like all the deli meat from one packet was in between the bread. No lettuce or tomato.

“In a bit. I’m gonna talk to Hex real quick and ask some questions.” He replied and got up from the couch.

Soap swallowed nervously. “Kate said that she’s gonna need time to cool off. . .”

“Our new member is part of the team now. She’s gonna have to get used to us even if she wants time for herself.” He justified it with a shrug of his shoulders. Soap shook his head and walked back into the kitchen, knowing that what Simon was about to do was most likely going to be a bad idea.

Ghost walked down the hall, observing each door as he passed them. Most of them were slightly open revealing extra bedrooms, an office, and a bathroom. Only two of them remained closed, both locked with keypads. For a second, he wondered which bedroom was yours before he could hear the sound of light music behind one of them along with swearing. It made him wonder what was behind the other door that was locked down.

Deciding to let it go for now, he approached your door and knocked. “Hex, open up.”

He heard you let out a frustrated groan before the door opened up. It was only just enough to see you, the pure darkness behind you, and the blood dripping down your fists. He crossed his arms over his broad chest and quirked a brow that you couldn’t see behind the mask. It didn’t take a genius to realize what you had done. “Are you done throwing a temper tantrum?”

You scowled at him, a fire in your eyes that made Simon’s heart skip a beat which confused him. He wasn’t afraid of you, so why would his heart alter its beat for you?

“If I knew that you were just going to insult me, I would’ve shot you dead on my porch.” You bitterly snapped, moving to close the door in his face. However, Ghost stopped it from slamming and took your hand in his, observing the damage you’ve done to yourself.

Your breath caught in your throat. Electricity ran through you at his touch. When was the last time someone has touched you? You attempted to pull back, but his hand firmly gripped yours. “Hey! What the fuck? Let go of me!”

“Calm down and let me see. It hurts, doesn’t it? Stings?”

You narrowed your eyes, but eventually nodded. It did sting and the dripping blood already stained your carpet. However, you could take care of it yourself. You didn’t need some man coming in to try to fix you. “I’ll be fine. I can tend to it myself.”

“First aid in the bathroom?” He asked, seeming to ignore your clear hint that you wanted to be alone.

Understanding that he probably wouldn’t drop this until he saw gauze around your knuckles, you headed to the hall bathroom with a huff, opened up the cabinet, and took out the first aid kit. You then took a seat at the edge of the tub and began patching yourself up. Every now and then you looked up towards the doorway, making sure that the skull man was watching you take care of yourself. Without his help. Without anyone’s help.

Finally, your hands were wrapped and the bleeding had stopped. You held up your hands towards him. “Happy now? Will you leave me alone now?”

“Hex.” Ghost simply said as a warning. God, you were infuriating. An attitude problem was something he would normally be able to snuff out immediately. He did it all the time when training new soldiers. Not you though. New soldiers were like little candles, easily blown out of their fire with just a breath. You? You were like a raging forest fire. One that clearly had its own traumas over years of service that the world may never know.

You didn’t like how he studied you. How his eyes trained on you were a mix between hatred, curiosity, and something else that you couldn’t quite put your finger on. A magnetic pull that begged for you to look at him too. You also didn’t like how he was trying to treat you like one of his rookie soldiers. The only thing you wanted to do to make it all stop was to push him away. “Don’t talk to me like some new recruit straight out of school. I’ve already earned my place in the world with the amount of scars I have. So, don’t treat me like I’m under you. I won’t even let your captain talk to me like that.”

After putting the first aid back where it belonged, you attempted to leave the bathroom and retreat back to your bedroom. Yet, Ghost wasn’t giving up just yet. His hold body blocked the bathroom exit. He was tall, strong, and sturdy. It wasn’t hard for him to completely fill up the space. However, that didn’t intimidate you. You got up close, and looked straight into those icy blues. Even with the black warpaint, you could tell that his lashes were meant to be blonde. Some of the paint had flecked off revealing some true color. You wondered what the rest of his face looked like for a second. Just a second.

You stood your ground, engaging in a heated staring contest. It was like lightning crackling between the two of you. After a while though, Simon finally gave in and held his hand up like a handshake. “Lieutenant. They call me Ghost.”

Hesitantly, you took his hand and firmly shook it, refusing to back down from a battle of wills. “Hex. That’s all you will know me by.”

Suddenly, he pulled you in closer, your chest almost touching his. On instinct, you pulled a knife from the waistband of your underwear. It was the one you took with you earlier for the showdown at the door. You held it to his neck, blade dipping in until you could feel the push back of skin. Ghost didn’t flinch or jump back at your defense. Instead, he whispered into your ear that he wanted to get close to in the first place. “As hard as you may try to fight it, you’re going to know me. And I’m going to know you.”

You bit back the shiver that went down your spine from the whisper, aching to slice his throat in retaliation. Chalice had you pinned, though. You had to avoid killing the people you are going to be working with at the very least.

Ghost slowly backed up and headed back towards the kitchen for some food, leaving you to process what just happened. You silently walked back to your room without looking back at him, ears turning red and heart racing unnaturally. You didn’t want to give him any satisfaction by giving him any more attention. However, Simon was already somewhat satisfied.

Yet, there was a part of him that wanted more.

Soap was eating a piece of lasagna when he walked in. Gaz and Price were quietly conversing at the other end of the island. It took a lot of food to fill up men like them. It wouldn’t take long for them to eat you out of your house and home unfortunately.

“So, how did it go?” Soap nosely inquired. As Simon surveyed the food before picking out a tupperware full of stew, he shrugged casually.

“She almost sliced my head off.”

Soap suppressed a chuckle and did his best impersonation of Laswell. “Sounds like it went smoothly then.”

598 notes · View notes

cherryredstars · 5 months

Text

Pairing: Miguel O’hara x curvyfem!reader

Warnings: Insecurity, Body Descriptions, Mentions of Erections, Suggestive Ending, Fluff

Summary: Shopping is never easy, but Miguel makes it 100x better

Word Count: 960 (Unedited)

You hate shopping.

It always starts off fun. You prance round the store excitedly, Miguel following after you as you look through racks and pick things out that you love on the hangers. He always offers to hold your selections for you, humming and looking at each new piece you place in his hands. He lets you do your thing, smiling to himself fondly as you gasp and squeal over things you find cute and thanking heaven above they have it in your size. Then, after you’ve deemed Miguel is holding enough things, you walk over to the dressing rooms.

The dressing rooms always ruin it for you. You take hours in there. Not because of how many things you picked out, but because you spend more than half of the time picking at your own insecurities. You hate how something will press tight around one place, but look loose and unflattering somewhere else. Hate how your skin will bulge in one area and make your whole body look uneven and distorted. You hate how your body causes the fabric to stretch, looking nothing like it did on the hanger. It's gross and it's disgusting and you always leave with tears in your eyes and your happy mood wiped away.

On the other hand, Miguel is awed everytime you step out. His eyes instantly catch your frame when you walk out. He straightens up, eyes wide as he scans your body up and done. You’re a fucking knock-out. He swears he can’t breathe because he’s choked by your beauty. He’s absolutely convinced you can pull off anything. When you walk out in something he particularly loves, he has to blink a couple times and his cheeks flame pink. He’s constantly fighting the urge to keep his mouth shut, scared it’ll drop open and drool will run down his chin at how gorgeous you look. More times than not, his ears are a hot pink as he tries to subtly adjust in his seat so his erection isn’t noticeable after you slip back inside the stall.

It breaks his heart that at the end of your little fashion show, you mumble how you don’t want to buy anything after explaining why. Unshed tears glossing your eyes and his sunshine completely evaporated. All you do is give him a tight lipped smile and tell him how you want to go home. And he agrees, walking you halfway out of the mall before he makes a show of patting down his pockets. You frown as you wait for him, watching his brows furrow. He hisses under his breath, planting a kiss to your lips as he mumbles something about forgetting his wallet in the store and telling you to just meet him in the car. By the time he makes it back, you’re too busy frowning at your phone in an attempt to lighten your mood to notice Miguel shoving bags into the trunk.

___________________________________________________

The next morning you are pleasantly surprised when you wake up to the smell of breakfast. Your eyes are still squinted as you take in the breakfast tray Miguel has prepared for the both of you, and when you turn your head towards the window, you find the blinding white filling the room is caused by the snow outside. You smile excitedly, and Miguel hands you a cup of cocoa that you sigh into. You both take turns feeding each other warm pancakes with syrupy sweet maple, topping them off with fresh, sticky fruit that makes your stomach full.

You’re surprised again when Miguel moves the mostly empty breakfast tray, instead placing gifts into your lap. Your brows furrow, taking one and shaking it.

“What’s all of this for?” You ask, eyeing the array of things on the bed.

Miguel simply smiles, placing a kiss to the side of your head as he finishes off your drink, "Because I love you.”

You roll your eyes, swatting his arm at the cheeky response before opening the first gift. It’s a box, similar to the ones for clothing, and you gasp as you pull out one of the outfits you were excited about at the mall but didn’t end up looking good on you. You grab another one, opening it and finding another. And another, and another, and another. Your eyes well up with tears and you smile fondly down at the clothing.

“When did you…?” You start, but as you say it you already know. The cheeky fucker didn’t forget his damn wallet.

You sniffle, wiping at your tears as you kiss his cheek in thanks. But then you quickly frown as you look at all the clothing. “Oh but Miguel, none of these looked good on me, remember?”

Miguel rolls his eyes at you, leaning down to wrap his arm around you and pull you into his side. “First off, hermosa, everything looks good on you. And second, believe it or not, I do listen when you speak to me. I brought them down to the seamstress you go to sometimes, got them adjusted.”

You feel more tears prick at your eyes, sniffling again as you pout. “Really? All of them?”

“All of them,” Miguel confirms, chuckling when you stuff your face into his chest to hide your tears of happiness.

Miguel smiles down at you fondly, hand rubbing your back as he squeezes you tight. When you pull away, you give him a long kiss and mumble a ‘thank you’ against his lips. Miguel’s eyes sparkle as he takes you in, kissing the corner of your lip. Then, he gives you that cheeky smile as his eyes glint.

“Why don’t I help you try them on this time, okay?”

More things definitely got taken off than put on.

503 notes · View notes

pocketjoong · 4 months

Text

❥𓂃𓏧WHAT IS A SOULMATE?

ꕥ𓂃𓏧 (SYNOPSIS): You and Seonghwa go on a trip across Europe and you use this as an excuse to make a little birthday video for him. But on the day of his birthday, Seonghwa feels nothing but grief as he watches the video you made for him.

ꕥ𓂃𓏧 (PAIRING) idol!Seonghwa x fem!reader

ꕥ𓂃𓏧 (GENRE AND AU/TROPE): fluff. angst. meet-cute. nsfw.

ꕥ𓂃𓏧 (WARNINGS) NSFW! MINORS DNI. oral. fingering. unprotected sex (it’s a big no guys, please use protection and stay safe). pet names (mc is called dove). mentions of food. allusions to and mentions of a serious accident. angst. fluff.

ꕥ𓂃𓏧 (WORD COUNT) 4.3k

ꕥ𓂃𓏧 (NOTES) @pyeonghongrie-main :) Here's the promised reupload hehehe

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London

Outside the confines of your hotel room, silence blankets the city much like the fog that hangs overhead. The first light of dawn is yet to break through the ink-black sky as the metropolis cradles its inhabitants in the silence of the night. This part of the city is still asleep, each soul embraced by the arms of Morpheus, awaiting daybreak to rouse them from their slumber.

Your gaze fixates on the horizon from between the sheer curtains. A pang of anticipation stirs within you, for out of all the alluring sights of nature, sunrise has always been your favourite. After all, regardless of wherever you are in the world, the sunrise is the only constant in the transient nature of life.

Today, however, as the dark black of the night fades to inky blue and splashes of pinks and purples bloom in the east, the only sight you focus on are his eyes. Seonghwa’s eyes are brighter than any galaxy and softer than the cherry blossoms that have begun blossoming on the tree just beyond the terrace. In that moment, you are happy to forego the sight of the beautiful sunrise to watch the coffee and hazel in his eyes melt to form the most gorgeous shade of brown you’ve ever seen.

It won’t be an exaggeration to say that sometimes, you feel like all of your life—each second, each breath, and each step—amounts to Seonghwa. Every decision you have ever made has been a stepping stone in your journey to meet him that one day six years ago when he was only a trainee.

Close to dawn, you had been wandering through the streets of Seoul to find a spark of inspiration for your first-ever project as a photography major. You knew you wanted to play with the idea of light and dark meeting together to form the most beautiful of sights, and what was a better time to do so than twilight?

So there you were, braving the winter chill for a decent grade while your friends were sleeping soundly, snuggled up in their warm beds.

But it seemed that fate had other plans for you that morning. You took a sip of the coffee you’d bought from the only cafe open at this ungodly hour, forgetting for a moment that it was piping hot. With a wince, you glared at the beige paper cup as if the liquid energy had personally done something to spite you.

A snicker caught your attention, and you turned around to narrow your eyes at the person, only to freeze in your tracks. Wearing a brown, fuzzy coat coupled with dark skinny jeans, the male looked like an angel sent from heaven. The thought that he was a hallucination of your sleep-deprived and cold body crossed your mind, but you discarded the thought when he realised that you’d heard him, and he scrambled to apologise for laughing.

You didn’t know then, but your life was for him. And, it won’t be an exaggeration to say that your life is all him. As winter melted into spring and spring made way for summer, you fell in love with the colour brown: the lush cocoa of Seonghwa’s eyes, sweeter than any hot chocolate you could find, and the tan of his skin, reminiscent of the buttery sweetness of roasted chestnuts. As the weather became humid and the days turned longer, you didn’t even register the beginnings of love taking root in your heart.

It began slowly, like the dripping of water from a tap. Drop by drop, your heart filled with adoration for him. Starting with an appreciation for the awe with which he experienced the world as if doing so for the first time. Then, it became more serious: you found yourself yearning to be around him, to listen to him talk about anything and everything, to be the only one he’d think of as being worthy of his heart.

And then, as if that wasn’t enough, you fell for his voice, a deep baritone with the consistency of honey that you couldn’t get enough of. And the best part? You got to hear it every day before sunrise, for that was his designated time for you in his busy schedule as a trainee and then later as an idol. Dawn was yours, had always been yours, and would always be yours as long as Seonghwa was beside you.

And so, without your knowledge, you fell in love with him bit by bit. You fell as if falling under a spell you couldn’t find a counter for. Not that you wanted to anyway, not when he was there to catch you.

A year later when spring arrived, love and hope sprouted in your heart when Seonghwa’s lips pressed against yours for the first time under the cherry blossoms. He etched himself into the deepest crevices of your soul and your heart. His touch was like that of the sun against your skin after a dark night, igniting your soul in a way that reminded you of fireworks. Under the light of dawn, as he kissed you, you learned a truth. Like the sunrise, Seonghwa is the only constant in your life.

“What are you thinking about?” His soft whisper pulls you out of your reminiscing, and you find yourself gazing into his wide eyes that are brimming with affection and curiosity.

Even after years of being with Seonghwa, the way he looks at you as if you are the one who hung the moon in the sky always floors you. Your skin tingles at the warmth and adoration in his gaze.

“You,” lost in way his thumb grazes against your waist, the word slips out of your lips without a second thought. You almost curse at yourself for being so taken with him when you see a devilish smirk pull at his lips.

“Is that so, my dove?” Chuckling, he lets himself get closer to you, if that’s even possible, considering how you’re basically pressed against him. His hands rise to cup your face, drawing you to his lips.

You lose yourself in the warmth of his mouth. His kisses are softer at first, but soon, his lips are moving insistently against yours. His teeth sink gently into your bottom lip, and he swallows the moan that leaves you almost hungrily. Seonghwa’s hand slides up the side of your body to slide your nightgown off you, exposing you to the chilly morning air.

He pulls back from you momentarily, the loss making you whine, but the protest dies in your throat when he gazes at you with nothing but love and adoration. In what little light filters through the sheer curtains, he looks ethereal with his glowing bronze skin. His dark hair is messy, and yet he manages to look as if he’d just stepped out of the pages of a manhwa. As if knowing what’s going through your head, a soft smile pulls at his lips.

“Stop looking at me like that,” he breathes, voice thick with sleep and desire.

“Like what?” You ask, your own hands finding purchase against his shoulders.

“Like I’m the damn sunrise.”

“You’re more breathtaking than any sunrise I’ve ever seen, Hwa,” you cradle his cheek in your palm, words ringing with sincerity as you gaze at your boyfriend.

Seonghwa ducks down at your words, hiding his face in your neck as you chuckle at the way he reacts to your compliment. Your amusement doesn’t last long, however, when he leans down further to lave his tongue against the marks his teeth had left against the column of your neck the night before. His teeth sink into your skin, cutting you off mid-laughter, while his palms come to cup your exposed breasts, and you find yourself arching into his touch.

You watch Seonghwa descend the length of your body, leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses wherever his lips can reach. His hands slither downwards, fingers digging into your thighs to spread your legs open for him. Bringing his mouth to your core, he smirks when you let out a broken moan, bucking into his mouth. Seoghwa keeps his eyes on you as he devours you.

“Hwa—” you choke back a moan, reaching for him with a trembling hand. You pull him to your lips, tasting yourself on his tongue. “Want you. Please.”

“My beautiful dove.” Seonghwa breathes reverently. His hands are gentle against your waist, cradling you close to him while his lips trace their way up your jaw to meet yours in a sloppy kiss.

As the sun rises over the Thames River, he ravishes you with a gentleness that feels like the first touch of warmth of the morning light.

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Madrid

“Are you recording me?” Seonghwa laughs, walking backwards on the sidewalk as you fumble with the camera—it’s heavier than what you’re used to—but you don’t mind because you’re more concerned about the quality of the video than anything else.

You can’t help but grin at the sight in front of you: Seonghwa in a beret and a long, dark coat that he has paired with jeans contrasts so well with the potted geraniums in front of the restaurant you had stopped to get breakfast at. The flowers herald the happiness blossoming in your chest at the sight of your lover glowing like the sun while surrounded by the the tell-tale signs of the approaching spring.

Seonghwa jokes that these flowers are blooming because it is his first time visiting Europe with you. You laugh off his silly comment, but in your heart of hearts, you can’t help but agree with him. It’s almost as if nature wants you to document the most beautiful sights while you record Seonghwa in the cities you are visiting.

Before you can answer him, something catches his eyes, and before you know it, he is dragging you to a toy store he has spotted on the other side of the road. His smile as he eagerly scours the store for something to buy reminds you of sunlight upon the tides, bright and blinding as the sun itself on the waves that lap gently at the shore.

Seonghwa makes his way to the sunglasses, trying on the goofiest ones, making you giggle. Encouraged by your laughter, he continues to make a fool of himself, pulling funny expressions for the camera and not caring if people are giving him funny looks. At one point, he tries the poison green alien sunglasses, and despite you laughing at how atrocious the design is, you can’t help but think how easily he can pull off even the most ridiculous of accessories with grace.

Behind him, you spot something that makes you gasp, and you rush to the shelves to grab one of the Toothless plushies. Turning around with purpose, you’re caught off guard by how close Seonghwa is, but you don’t let it faze you.

“Look, Hwa! I found you on the shelf,” you giggle at him, holding the plushie up so that it lines up with his face.

He rolls his eyes fondly, used to such jokes by the rest of ATEEZ and his fans. Despite that, he takes the plushie from your hands and puts it on his head, allowing you to capture him with ease. His touch is careful as he holds the plushie, similar to how he handles everything he lays his hands on. Delicate and light, he touches everything he comes across with care, and that’s one of the reasons you find him endearing—for he’s one of the few people who truly take the time to appreciate the beauty the world has to offer.

“If I’m Toothless, doesn’t that mean you’re my Light Fury?” You watch the way his eyes scan the shelves for something.

“I guess,” you shrug, chuckling as you help him in his search for a plushie of the said dragon.

“Do you think we should buy these?” Seonghwa asks, interrupting your search, and you turn to find him holding up the two plushies. He glances at the two stuffed toys—Toothless and the Light Fury—with his eyes furrowed as he weighs the pros and cons of buying both.

“You have multitudes of these back home, Hwa.” You remind him, in fact, he has so many plushies and figurines that he had to store some in your apartment because his manager had threatened that he would throw them out if he saw one more of the HTTYD-themed merch.

“But—”

“Hwa.”

“Fine, break my heart, why don’t you?” And with a pout, he places them back on the shelf reluctantly. You know he’s joking because when you gesture towards the plushies later on, he shakes his head with a smile.

Throughout the day, you explore the city with him, telling him everything you had learned about the places from the little tourist booklet you had snagged from the hotel that morning. He listens to you earnestly, watching you talk with a smile as admiration settles under his skin.

Later in the night, you find yourself in a cafe. Taking a deep breath, you inhale the scent of coffee that permeates your immediate surroundings. Since the cafe is basically empty at this time of the night, a sense of tranquillity surrounds you, much like the warm coat Seonghwa has draped over you. You watch late stragglers making their way home from their jobs through the window you’re seated against, hands curled against a warm cup of hazelnut latte.

“Dove,” Seonghwa’s quiet voice comes from next to you, causing you to snuggle into his shoulder, humming for him to continue. “Don’t fall asleep. We have to walk back to the hotel.”

“Shall we leave, then?” Stifling a yawn, you ask, causing him to nod.

He leads you out of the cafe, keeping his hand on your lower back as you walk through the sparsely populated streets. The very next moment, however, it begins to rain out of nowhere, and before you know it, you are being drenched in the downpour.

Seonghwa laughs in surprise but turns his face upwards to allow the raindrops to kiss his cheeks. Even though the world is blurred around you and your vision is warped by the drops in your eyes, you can still see him clearly. He basks in the rain, lets himself get drenched by the droplets cascading down his face, neck, and shoulders. The rain is so heavy that the raindrops make streams as they make their way down his body.

Watching him like this, you find yourself reaching out for him. As if on the same wavelength as you, Seonghwa takes your hand in his, lips curling up in a smile when you entangle your fingers with his. Reaching out, he cups your face gently, and it seems as if the world stops around you, your senses failing to register anything beyond his touch. Seonghwa trails his thumb along your lips, wiping the raindrops that have settled across your skin.

Drenched in the downpour with him, it’s easy to think of Seonghwa as the rain and yourself as the earth that craves rain after a dry spell.

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Seoul

The wallpaper drips with grief, mimicking the gloom that has taken root in his heart and doesn’t seem to want to leave. The glow of the streetlights filters through the windows and is the only source of light in his dark room. In the centre of the whirlpool of dread and darkness lies Seonghwa, curled up against the messy sheets he can’t bother to straighten.

The silence is uncanny. He’s not used to it—for years, he has shared a room with Hongjoong, and even though, more often than not, the younger male wasn’t actually there because he preferred the studio or the living room couch to the bedroom, the mere idea of sharing a room with someone always made him feel at ease. Hongjoong has been Seonghwa’s anchor in the years he roomed with him, but now alone in his room, the walls seem to press in around him like waves trying to drown him, leaving him breathless.

If Hongjoong is his anchor, you are his beacon, his guiding light, his polestar. And tonight, as his ship is battered by the biggest storm he’s ever faced, you aren’t here either. Desperately, he searches for something to ground him, but too many days and nights filled with sorrow and false optimism have built up and around him, crushing him with a weight he can’t handle anymore. When love wasn’t enough to save you, how can it be enough to help him stay afloat in the rough seas?

Outside of his room, spring touches everything with its delicate hands. For Seonghwa, however, winter still lingers, and the beautiful weather outside just irks him further. He hasn’t been in love for the last week, and even nature cannot revive him this time around. Without love in his heart, the only thing he feels is despair.

Even now, he can’t forget the way red painted his hands as you lay in his arms. Sometimes, when he squeezes his eyes shut hard enough, he can see your smile. In the very same moment, his heart opens and breaks when the image of you in his arms dances across his vision, and he dies again and again, bleeds until there’s only a shell left behind.

The beeping of his digital clock startles him. The digits read 00:00, distorted from the tears that line his lashes but never seem to fall. For a long time, he had thought today would make the pain bearable, but it persists, lingering in his heart and his room like stubborn rain clouds that linger even after the storm has passed. It is possible that you may not return to him, but he tries to remain optimistic. If he doesn’t believe you to be strong enough to fight for him, for your love, then who will?

His phone dings, and he looks at the device for a moment. Each beep of his phone has, till now, started him into a sitting position, and every time, it has not what he expected. But foolishly, he still hopes for a miracle.

His phone dinging again with the custom notification he had set for you has Seonghwa scrambling to check his phone. It’s a scheduled email, but your name lighting up the screen renders him breathless. At the sight of your name, the storm raging around him quietens down, leaving him in calm seas. There’s a video attached with the email, and he clicks it open.

[Exterior. Mid-morning. Shots of the streets of London from a car. In the foreground, the text reads Happy Birthday, Seonghwa! A female’s voice is heard speaking in the voiceover.]

Y/N: What’s a soulmate?

[The camera pans and focuses on Seonghwa as he looks out of the window, pointing at all the things he remembers from the few times he has been there with ATEEZ for concerts.]

SH: And that’s the cafe Jongho liked a lot. He said the coffee there was amazing. We should definitely visit it after we’ve settled in hotel room, you look like you could do with some caffeine in your system.

Y/N: [laughing] Not everyone is used to sleeping in aeroplanes.

SH: [shaking his head, he sniffs as if wounded by your comments] Well, if you toured with me, you’d be used to it. You’re the only one who keeps declining when I ask you to come with me! My poor self has to live without you for months just because you won’t agree.

Y/N: Your idea of bringing me along includes you stuffing me into your suitcase. Sorry if I don’t want to be thrown around with the other luggage.

SH: [snorting] It’s your fault for being so small.

Y/N: [sighing] Whatever, Hwa.

[Midday. The video cuts to a shot of Seonghwa walking along the Thames river. He has his arms wrapped around himself. The sky is covered with fluffy clouds, and one can tell that spring is fast approaching with the way little green buds are seen on the trees in the background.]

Y/N: It’s a… Well, it’s like a best friend, but more.

SH: It’s so cold!

Y/N: Should we go and get something to warm us up from the cafe you pointed out earlier? I think it’s close to where we are right now.

[The video cuts to the two of you inside the cafe. The camera is placed on one side, allowing it to capture both Seonghwa and you. You’re laughing at Seonghwa, who took a sip from your iced americano and immediately made a face at the taste. The video skips a bit and Seonghwa can be seen humming along to the music from the speakers while you watch him, enraptured by his vocals.]

Y/N: It’s the one person in the world who knows you better than anyone else.

[The video cuts again. This time, Seonghwa is in a hotel room, standing against the backdrop of the Eiffel Tower and posing goofily while you are laughing in the background. He waddles over to the camera, forcing you to put it on the table as he twirls you around, dancing to a song he’s humming.]

Y/N: It’s someone who makes you a better person.

[The video cuts to a closeup of Seonghwa’s head in your lap as you sit on the couch. He’s sleeping soundly while you run your fingers through his soft hair. His lips quirk upwards in a smile, causing you to halt your motions, but a whine from him has you resuming your actions.]

Y/N: [soft whisper] Did I wake you up?

SH: [hums and shakes his head] Not really… [yawns] I wasn’t fully asleep.

[There’s silence for a while as Seonghwa shifts around to get comfortable.]

SH: I love you.

Y/N: That was so random, Hwa.

SH: Hey! You’re supposed to say you love me too!

Y/N: [snorting] I love you, you overgrown child.

SH: I’ll have you know that’s Wooyoung.

Y/N: Don’t let him hear you say that. He’ll bite your arm off or something.

SH: [laughing hard]

Y/N: Actually, they don’t make you a better person, you do that yourself… because they inspire you.

[The video cuts to Seonghwa amidst the geraniums in Madrid before he drags you to the MINISO. His shenanigans from the store can be seen, with him wearing goofy sunglasses and playing with the Night Fury plushie.]

Y/N: A soulmate is someone who you can carry with you forever.

[Seonghwa can be seen busking with a guy playing the guitar. He sings Angel Baby by Troye Sivan, smiling wide when you start swaying one of your hands in beat with the music, causing people to follow your actions. When he’s done, people come up to him, telling him that he’s an amazing singer, and he thanks everyone with a bashful smile while watching you look at him with a look of pride on your face.]

Y/N: It’s the one person who knew you and accepted you… Believed in you before anyone else did or when no one else would.

[Seonghwa excuses himself from the crowd and makes his way towards you, wrapping his arms around your frame and sways the two of you as the busker starts crooning a song in Danish.]

SH: Thank you for always believing in me, dove. Especially when I didn’t believe in myself.

Y/N: [smiling] I love you, and I’ll cheer you on, especially during the darkest days.

Y/N: And no matter what happens, you will always love them.

[The camera pans to you in your editing studio, and you wave at the camera with a smile on your face.]

Y/N: It’s quite late [glancing at the clock on your desk], 3 a.m. to be precise, and I’m working on your birthday video. [Laughs] I hope you like this little video I put together with clips from our trip to Europe. Give me a call once you’re done watching this. I love you so much, Hwa! Happy Birthday, my star!

Y/N: Nothing can ever change that.

Seonghwa wipes his tears, sniffing as he gets up from the bed. With a meticulousness characteristic of him, he goes through the motions of dressing up to pay you a visit. That’s the only thing that seems to make sense, so with bleary eyes and heavy feet, he walks through the deserted streets of Seoul.

The staff members at the hospital allow him to see you, used to his untimely visits. The nurse watching over you gives him a sad smile and leaves him alone with you when he enters your room. He notes that the pallor that had settled beneath your skin is now fading, albeit slowly.

Maybe you’re getting better? But you still haven’t woken up, and seeing your face, he finds himself falling, falling through the memories of the day of the accident. His eyes close of their own accord, and he sighs, trying to get those images out of his mind. Unable to stop his thoughts, he relives the day all over again.

Logically, he knows the accident isn’t his fault but of the person who was behind the wheel.

Or maybe it was, the voice in his mind tells him.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he can’t forgive himself for the events that led up to the accident. If he hadn’t called you to pick him up from the company that night when it was raining, you’d be safe in his arms, celebrating his birthday with him.

No, it wasn’t. Seonghwa desperately wants to believe his own words. But there’s still that small voice of doubt that rears its ugly head, and before he knows it, fresh tears are rolling down his cheeks.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. Seonghwa is too emotionally exhausted and too choked to speak any louder. “My dove, I’m so sorry for this whole mess. I’m sorry. Please wake up soon. I can’t do this alone—I can’t live without you. Please. I love you.”

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c-nstantine · 8 months

Text

The Grandmaster and His Concubine

Description: Bi Han uses his personal whore.

Word Count: 1.3k

Warning: Y/N has a severe case of dumb bitchitis, smut, cursing, doggy style, not choking but his hand is on her throat, reverse cowgirl, mild breeding kink towards the end (i think this is the first outright smut I've written so go easy on me)

Being weak in the Lin Kuei was simply not allowed. It was frowned upon to be so and it was fortunate that Y/N found the favor of Bi Han, the Grandmaster. For a man who rarely pitied anything, he pitied her. So much so, that he wanted her by his side when possible. Now rumors circulate about the exact nature of their relationship, it's hard for anyone to tell if Bi Han enjoys the company of Y/N.One thing is certain, he enjoys spending his nights between her thighs.

Tonight was one of those nights. He had faced a foe in battle that wasn't strong but it frustrated him to no end. Y/N could hear the footsteps of her beloved as he approached her quarters. His footsteps were heavy and his voice was rough as he commanded his subordinates to do something useful with themselves for the night. Y/N smiled with excitement as her doors opened. She kneeled on the bed wearing only a robe with her hair free as can be.

"Grandmaster," Y/N whispered in acknowledgment of the man in front of her. He stood, looking down upon her. His mask was removed so that Y/N could see his face. She reached out to touch his cheek but he caught her wrist. His grip was tight but not enough to hurt her, not yet.

"You're already on your knees for me," Bi Han's hand found its way to her throat, and out of instinct, Y/N's mouth fell open. Bi Han swelled with pride because of how well he had trained Y/N.

"Of course, beloved," Y/N said with a pleasing smile as Bi Han gave a small squeeze to her throat.

"How endearing. Bathe me, whore," Bi Han commanded and Y/N was more than happy to oblige him.

His grip loosened on her wrist and she took this as time to grab his hand and lead him towards the hot spring just outside her quarters. It was surrounded by wooden walls that were at least 10 feet tall. It's not like anyone could spy on them back here, Bi Han would have the head of anyone peeping on what's his. The water was lined with various plants and the faint croaking of frog-like creatures could be heard. Y/N took her time undressing him, he rarely allowed her to do so. Maybe he did care about her beyond the physical. Steam erupted from the spring the moment that he stepped in. She began to slowly scrub away in dirt and blood from his body as he sat in the water. His hair was in a loose bun with a few strands falling around his face.

This felt more intimate than anything they had ever done. Once again, he grabbed her wrist but this time it was to pull her to be directly in front of him. He removed her robe and grabbed her hips. Y/N sat in his lap.

"Can you feel that? That is what you do to me," With his hands still on her hips, he ground his hips against hers. Y/N shuddered and gasped. She had taken him many times before, but every time, she was still surprised by his size.

He kissed her neck and lifted her hips slightly so he could slip into her. Between the warm water surrounding them and her juicy pussy, he truly thought he was in heaven. Y/N could feel his cold hands move from her hips to her plump ass. She was sure that in the morning, her brown ass would have grip marks.

"Ride me as I taught you," Bi Han took pride in being the first man that Y/N was ever with. Meaning that she was his custom whore and all of her little tricks were only for him and would only be for him. She would never take another lover if he could help it.

Y/N whined at the loss of contact when Bi Han moved his hands away from her hips. He leaned back and spread his arms over the rocks behind them. He smirked as Y/N bounced up and down in his dick. He thought the view of her bouncing titties was a sight to behold. He liked to study her face as she did all the work. The way her face would scrunch as she used his dick to hit her spot.

As Y/N's knees began to burn, Bi Han began to grunt slightly and thrust into her hips. His hands found her waist once more, and he took control of her motions. Y/N's hands were grasping for his shoulders as he forced her down on his cock. Her moans grew louder and louder until her pussy clenched around his cock. He filled her womb soon after, and Y/N was happy to feel so warm with her lover's seed.

Abruptly, Bi Han stood up and moved him and Y/N to her bed. He tossed her onto her sheets and soon climbed on top of her. He stroked her cheek with his calloused, cool thumb. He looked at her more sincerely than before and if Y/N wasn't sure before, she was sure now that she would never leave him. He kissed her still-damp cheek before spreading her legs.

Y/N was still a little dazed from the first orgasm he had given her when he slipped back into her. However, she did not forget how it felt to have inside of her. The way that with every stroke she felt closer and closer to being complete. The grip he had on her thighs would have her bruised in the morning but she refused to remove her legs from above his shoulders.

His hips began to stutter as he plowed into her pussy. Y/N was finding it difficult to stay in place. She was sure that she had came at least twice now but he continued to ram into her. As he continued to fuck her, he got more sentimental. One of his hands left her thigh and began to play with her nipples. Carefully, he'd use his abilities to give her more pleasure.

"Tonight, you will make me an heir. Is that clear, slut?" He spoke cumming in her for the second time of the night. His voice was gruff from all of the groaning that he had been doing.

"Yes, Grandmaster," She was a little drunk off the cock when he flipped her over. Hearing Y/N being so delusional over him, made him want to go another round. He flipped her over and pushed her head into the pillow.

"How does it feel the Grandmaster's personal whore?" Y/N couldn't even respond with how hard she was being fucked. Once again her moans filled the chambers. The sounds of skin slapping could be heard well outside of her room but everyone knew not to disturb the Grandmaster once he was in this state.

"Damn," Bi Han whispered as he took in Y/N's form. He took his hand and pressed on her back so that he could reach the deepest parts of her. She was sure that he was kissing her cervix with every stroke.

"Bi Han," Y/N whined loudly when he finished inside her once again.

Y/N tried to move away from him to grab a towel but he pulled her back to his chest. He was cold but in a comforting way. His eyes said words that his mouth could not.

"You will not move. My seed will not leave your womb," Bi Han said kissing her cheek again. Y/N just nodded tiredly. When he returned Y/N was already asleep, so he placed her bonnet on gently and wiped his excess seed from her thighs. He noted the various bruises and a sense of pride came from them.

"She is mine," He whispered before joining her in bed once more.

#x black!reader #black!reader #x black reader #bi han x reader #bi han x black reader #bi han sub zero #mk sub zero #sub zero mk1 #sub zero x reader #mk 1 x reader #mk 1 #bi han smut #sub zero smut

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leejihoonownsmyheart · 1 year

Text

One Call Away (M)

Part Seven of the Pathetic series

Tags: 20k words, dub con for safety reasons, Porn with Plot, frat boy!Jeonghan, college student!y/n, best friend!Jeongyeon, soft!dom to hard!dom Jeonghan, mean!Jeonghan (and y/n loves it), submissive!y/n, female!y/n (sorry), impact play, masochist!y/n, sadist!Jeonghan, lowkey the slow-burniest part, appearances from everyone's least favorite, side-character heaven

Summary:

After Jeonghan’s confession, y/n struggles to figure out how she feels

You didn’t end up sleeping. Not because you were uncomfortable but because you were fighting your thoughts all night. You wanted to be sure of how you felt before you did anything but at the same time all you wanted to do was lay on Jeonghan’s chest. Hear him breathing.

You wanted to know what it was like to be intimate with him in that kind of way. Something that you knew he wanted with you. You just weren’t sure if you really felt the same way or if your simple sexual attraction to him and the intense nature of your twos’ relationship made you think you wanted him in that way.

You didn’t want to just leave Jeonghan but when you heard the other boys moving around outside Jeonghan’s door you felt like it was better than waiting for him to wake up and for him to realize that you hadn’t slept at all that night.

You changed into a different set of clothes and wondered exactly how you would be able to sneak out. However, the minute you stepped into the hallway your plans were dashed. Seungcheol was leaning against the wall. He looked up at you from beneath his bangs, raising an eyebrow in your direction.

“Well?”

You pressed your lips together, and quietly closed the door behind you.

“I don’t know,” you admitted. “How did you know I would be up?”

“I didn’t,” Seungcheol admitted, a smile flickering across his face as if you two were sharing some kind of secret. “Is Jeonghan still sleeping?”

You nodded.

“What did he tell you?”

“I don’t know if I should tell you,” you said. “It’s kind of… Personal.”

Seungcheol looked confused, and you could tell he wanted to prod more but after a few seconds of clear torment he seemed to let it go.

“Mingyu already knows you’re still here,” he said softly. “You’re not going to be able to get out easily.”

Your eyes fell to the ground, and you muttered a soft curse.

“Is there a window I can climb out of?”

It was a joke. Seungcheol laughed.

“Are you really going to leave Jeonghan without saying goodbye?”

“I don’t want to hurt him,” you said softly. “But… I have a lot of thinking to do. I can’t really…” You were saying too much. You didn’t think that Seungcheol knew how Jeonghan felt about you. “You should really talk to him yourself.”

“You have to stay for breakfast,” Seungcheol said with a shrug. “Everyone knows you’re here. You really going to risk hurting Mingyu’s feelings?”

It hadn’t occurred to you that leaving in the morning without a word would hurt more than just Jeonghan’s feelings, but now that Seungcheol mentioned it you knew he was right. God, you hated that he was right.

You could barely handle the idea of hurting Jeonghan’s feelings right now. He had been so vulnerable with you… You didn’t want him to never open up to someone ever again because of how you reacted in this situation. And you definitely didn’t want to hurt the feelings of thirteen men.

You quirked your head to the side, insinuating to Seungcheol that if he led you would follow. The moment that you stepped into the kitchen; half of the boys let out excited exclamations.

“Y/n is back!” Mingyu said excitedly. “Jeonghan has been such a dick without you around.”

You rolled your eyes at the sentiment, thinking it was odd that they were so excited to see you, when Seokmin added: “I don’t know what’s worse. Hearing you two go at it at night or having Jeonghan yell at us about the littlest things.”

“I think the latter is worse,” Jun said, a smile crossing his face. To his credit he looked genuinely surprised to see you. You supposed you hadn’t seen him at all last night. “Mingyu was over the moon at the fact you were going to be here.”

“I made porridge,” Mingyu said excitedly. He put a bowl in front of you. “Have you ever had it before?”

You laughed and shook your head. You picked up a spoon and as you went to try the food Mingyu sat down next to you, his eyes wide as he watched you.

You laughed aagain nd took a bite.

You let a dramatic pause fill the room, making sure to keep your face neutral. You could tell that it was driving him crazy to see what you were going to say.

After a minute, you smiled.

“Of course, it’s amazing.”

You wondered if this was what it was usually like for the boys of Alpha Mu. Did they get really attached to the partners one another had the way they seemed to have gotten attached to you? Even Seokmin who was clearly annoyed to have to deal with the sound of you and Jeonghan at night seemed to enjoy your company.

You wondered if any of them had stayed friends with partners after break ups.

Still, you tried not to think about it too much. You wanted to focus on less stressful things.

“There is sleeping beauty!” Minghao said, a smile crossing his lips. You looked over your shoulder to find Jeonghan standing there. His hair was messy, his eyes still a little red and puffy from sleeping. He looked annoyed, but then his eyes flickered to you and the annoyance dissipated.

Fuck, why did that just make you feel even more conflicted?

“Why do you always sleep so late?” Joshua chided. “You always make y/n come down alone.”

Jeonghan looked away from you and shrugged.

“She doesn’t mind. She’s always been good at waiting for me.”

He had said it before, but this time it felt different. You patted the spot next to you for Jeonghan to sit down.

“I do have to go soon,” you admitted. You didn’t say what you should. I waited because I didn’t want to hurt your feelings. But I don’t know my feelings yet. “But how can I say no to a Mingyu breakfast?”

Despite the fact you didn’t say it out loud, you had a feeling that Jeonghan could hear your thoughts. His expression dropped a little, for just a second, but you noticed. A smile crossed his lips immediately after and if you didn’t know any better you would say that he was completely fine.

You looked at Seungcheol, who pressed his lips together tightly and glanced to the side. You got the gist. You turned your eyes back to Jeonghan.

“No one would say no to a Mingyu breakfast,” Jeonghan agreed.

Breakfast wasn’t awkward but it was frustrating. You shouldn’t want it, but you really wanted Jeonghan to touch you as if he hadn’t confessed his love to you and you hadn’t not given him an answer back.

You didn’t want to admit it out loud, but you loved the way that he always had his hands on you when you two were together. Before you had thought he was just touchy, but thinking back on it you were realizing that it was actually the way he had been showing you that all his attention was on you even when it seemed like it wasn’t.

You wanted to be mad that he had thought he needed to dangle other people in your face to get your attention but thinking about it now you really hadn’t ever given him attention. You had constantly tried to leave before he woke up, never texted him or called him, never visited him where you knew he lived and only came when there was a party to crash.

No wonder he had been so desperate.

“I really should get going,” you insisted, ignoring the protests from all the boys. You rolled your eyes. “I’ll be around.”

Were you just saying that to make the others feel better or did you actually mean it?

You glanced at Jeonghan giving him a smile and a nod. Jeonghan gave you back that same convincing smile that he had been giving out all morning. You avoided eye contact with Seungcheol and started to head home.

When you walked into your apartment, you were surprised to find Jun and Jeongyeon waiting for you in the kitchen. You blinked, looking from Jun to the shoes that he had left at the entrance. Your mouth fell open a little.

“How did you…?” Your head fell to the side a little bit, the corner of your mouth turning up in confusion. “How did you get here before me?”

Jun waved off your confusion.

“Not important. What happened with Jeonghan?” He asked. “I thought you two weren’t talking? And then I heard you two last night-”

“How could you not tell me?” Jeongyeon blurted, a mostly exaggerated flash of hurt crossing her face. “What made you decide to start talking to Jeonghan again?”

“Well…” You trailed off as you kicked your shoes off your feet. “You know how Seungcheol came to see me? He convinced me to go to the party last night in disguise so I could see for myself that Jeonghan wasn’t sleeping with other people.”

“And?” Jeongyeon prodded. Both her and Jun were for some reason sitting on your kitchen counter and they both patted the space in between them simultaneously. You rolled your eyes but started over there.

“Well, I kind of sabotaged the plan by talking to Jeonghan and he figured out it was me,” you admitted. As soon as you had hopped up on the counter next to them, Jeongyeon hopped down. She went over to the freezer and pulled out three pint-sized cartons of ice cream. Your eyebrows furrowed slightly in confusion.

“When did you…?”

“I bought these when you and Jeonghan first stopped talking,” Jeongyeon explained, handing a carton to both you and Jun along with some spoons. “I know you and Jeonghan have always been kind of emotionally detached but I wanted to prepare for the worst.”

You pressed your lips together.

That was the real problem with all of this. That right there was the real reason that this situation required so much thinking. You had been emotionally detached from Jeonghan. You had done such a good job putting Jeonghan in the Just Sex box that now you were having trouble putting him in any other box.

“Oh god, what did Jeonghan say to you?” Jeongyeon asked after you had been silent for a few moments.

“It couldn’t have been that bad,” Jun speculated. “They did have sex last night and they seemed fine at breakfast this morning.”

“Jeonghan loves me.”

Silence fell between the two. You could feel them staring at you and it only made your mind race even faster. You groaned and buried your face in your hands, leaving the cold cartoon of ice cream pressed between your thighs.

“Well, he didn’t say that but he said that,” you continued. “He told me that he’s liked me since freshmen year. That I’m too good for him. That he is so crazy about me he couldn’t deal with me not being the same level of crazy for him.”’

“No, he didn’t,” Jun said, but it wasn’t that he didn’t believe you. It was in pure astonishment.

“He said: ‘When I say that I crave you, I mean it in a way you will never fully understand’.”

Jeongyeon squealed a little next to you, reaching across your lap to hit Jun on his thigh.

“I knew it,” she said excitedly. “I called this! I knew that Jeonghan had fallen for you!”

You looked up, giving Jeongyeon a strained look. She let out a nervous laugh.

“Sorry,” she mumbled. “But isn’t this a good thing?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted with a sigh. “Is it? I’m not in love with Jeonghan.”

“Maybe not,” Jeongyeon agreed. There was a long stretch of silence between the three of you. “But also… Maybe you are?”

Luckily it didn’t seem like you were the only one who thought that didn’t make sense.

“Huh?” Jun mumbled. Jeongyeon hummed, jumping off the counter to head over to the living room. You and Jun followed her in tow. Jeongyeon sat on the couch, Jun on the arm of the couch, and you on the floor.

“Like… You’re not in love with him. Of course not, because when boundaries are in front of you, you don’t cross them,” Jeongyeon started. As she spoke you took a spoonful of ice cream. To give Jeongyeon credit where it was due: She knew you the best out of anyone. How did she remember what your favorite ice cream flavor was? “But I mean… You did cross the boundary a little. Didn’t you?”

Maybe she didn’t know you as well as you thought.

“No, I didn’t-”

“That day you were telling me that Jeonghan was going to sleep with Chaedom and told you not to come over you went over, didn’t you?” She pressed. You fell silent. “Right. And why did you care so much anyways?”

“I didn’t care,” you mumbled. “It was just annoying… I don’t know- I really wanted him that day.”

“Gross,” Jun mumbled. You and Jeongyeon ignored him.

“But didn’t you wonder why?” Jeongyeon continued. “I mean, even after that you didn’t seem to want him as badly as you did then. Why did you want him so badly that day?”

Jeongyeon was raising some great questions, but before you could try to answer them, she was continuing.

“And don’t you think it’s weird that you do all these mundane things with him?” Jeongyeon asked. “Like you’ve had fuck buddies before. Small flings, whatever they didn’t mean anything.”

“Yeah,” you agreed. Jeongyeon’s eyes widened a little and she gestured towards you as if she was trying to make you realize something.

“They didn’t mean anything,” Jeongyeon emphasized. “You didn’t wait for them to wake up or eat breakfast with them. You definitely didn’t end up shopping with them, or staying the night when you two weren’t actively sleeping together.”

“That’s-” Such a good point. “Just because they weren’t persistent like Jeonghan is.”

“Y/n, open your eyes,” Jeongyeon insisted. “You don’t do things you don’t want to do.”

You hadn’t really known Jeonghan for very long at this point, but Jeongyeon’s persistence made you fall silent regardless. She was right. Of course, she was right.

You had been so focused on not liking Jeonghan that you had been ignoring the obvious signs that you did like him. Maybe not love- How could you be in love with Jeonghan so quickly after all, but you did really care for him didn’t you?

If it had been one of your old flings you wouldn’t be so hesitant to break their heart. It would have been easy for you to brush them off and tell them you didn’t feel that way. But you cared about Jeonghan’s feelings.

Fuck, how had you gotten here?

Jeonghan had been frustrated because you weren’t crazy about him the way he was you but weren’t you a little? You had been so jealous of Chaedom, and the only reason that you were so nonchalant about him sleeping with other people was because he had always returned to you. There had been no doubt in your mind that you meant more to him than everyone else at some point. Even if you didn’t think it was love.

Normally that should have been a red flag. You could easily find a different fuck buddy, but Jeonghan had made you feel special even while he was just a fling. Isn’t that what made it so different with him?

“How did this happen?” You asked softly. You groaned and buried your face in your hands. “I mean I know he loves me but Yoon Jeonghan? What if… I don’t know what if he gets bored?”

“I mean, I’m hardly the expert,” Jun interjected. “But isn’t that a fear when getting into any relationship?”

“Which is why I am not looking for a relationship!” You replied. “Because I don’t want those fears. What if he gets bored? What if we break up? What if he still wants to be with other people?”

“He already said that he doesn’t want to date other people. Remember? That was what started all of this in the first place.”

You pursed your lips. Fuck.

“What are your qualms with really being with Jeonghan?” Jun asked. “Like, really?”

“I already said,” you replied. “What if he gets bored of me or what if we don’t work out or-”

“Not in general, of specifically being with Jeonghan,” Jun interrupted. “Like what specific things about Jeonghan worry you? Do you not think that he will be nice to you?”

“What?” You blurted. “Of course, he would be nice to me. Jeonghan is always nice to me.”

“So, you just don’t think he’s ready for a relationship,” Jeongyeon joined in.

“No,” you disagreed again. “I think that Jeonghan has been wanting a relationship for a lot longer than he realizes.”

You shifted a little.

“Do you two not get along emotionally?” Jun prodded.

“Jeonghan can read me really well,” you replied with a shake of your head. “I think that we get along fine.”

“Then what?” Jeongyeon pressed. “What is the grand reason that you are worried that Jeonghan and you would be bad together?”

“Me,” you blurted. Jeongyeon and Jun shared matching wide eyed expressions. “It’s me, okay?”

You looked down into your lap unsurely.

“Jeonghan’s been in love with me since freshmen year,” you said. “That is years of looking at me and filling in the gaps of my personality that he didn’t know and that means that a large part of what he likes about me is just what he hopes I’m like.”

“That’s not-”

“And if that’s not even true what is true is that Jeonghan knows for sure that he is ready to date me. That’s why he admitted he liked me. But yesterday if you had asked me if I wanted to be in a relationship, I would have said no.”

“You’re overthinking it.”

“It’s unfair of me to date him when I’m not ready for a relationship. The problem isn’t Jeonghan. It’s never been Jeonghan. The problem is me. I haven’t been in a relationship for longer than a few months ever. Even the very few people that have been nice to me…”

You trailed off, thinking.

“Hwanwoong… Gunhak…” You strained to think of more. “That’s it. Those are the only two people who have really liked me and maybe been willing to marry me and I got scared and I broke up with them.”

You groaned and fell forward into your hands.

“I can’t hurt Jeonghan guys. Who cares about the others? I can’t hurt Jeonghan.”

Jeongyeon and Jun were quiet for a little bit. In fact, it stretched on for so long that you forced yourself to look back up at them, your hands dragging down your cheeks in frustration.

“Well?” You blurted. “I just barred out my heart and you two aren’t going to say anything?”

Again, they were quiet for a little too long and you dropped your head back into your hands.

“Fuck.”

“It’s just…” Jeongyeon’s words dragged you up out of your hands. “You’ve never… I just… You always acted like you just really didn’t care about relationships. I didn’t realize…”

“Yeah.”

There was silence, before suddenly, Jun broke it.

“Y/n, you’re really stupid.”

“Jun,” Jeongyeon hissed, and you heard him audibly get hit. You looked up at the two in surprise.

“What? She is,” he insisted. “And you are too! You both are really stupid.”

He looked over at you, shoving his hand forward.

“Who cares if you don’t think you are ready for a relationship? No one goes into a relationship knowing for sure that they are going to marry the person they are dating. That’s the hope but not the fact,” he insisted bluntly. “And the fact that you even care about this is just proof that you do care about him.”

“That’s not-”

“You just don’t want to lose him!” Jun interrupted. “If you didn’t care about Jeonghan then this wouldn’t matter at all. You like having sex with him? Say you like him, and you can keep having sex. Who cares about breaking a few hearts on the way?”

“I’m not a monster, Jun,” you said slightly offended by what he was saying.

“I’m just saying you broke up with the others easy right? But you so desperately care about Jeonghan you don’t even want to tell him that you don’t like him.”

Jun leaned back on the couch.

“Maybe I don’t know anything,” he mumbled. “But that sounds like love to me.”

You pressed your lips together.

“That…” You groaned and dropped your head into your hands again. “I just… I really don’t want to hurt him.”

“Stop being stupid,” Jun said, this time reaching over and physically hitting you. “Jeonghan can handle being hurt. And you’re preparing for a storm that you don’t even know is coming. Just do what every other idiot on the planet does and date the guy you like.”

You knew Jun was right.

God, you couldn’t believe that you were getting genuinely good advice from Moon Junhui.

“Jeongyeon-” You looked over at her with a wide and frustrated expression. She had a mostly blank look on her face and she just shook her head.

“I can’t… I can’t say anything, he’s right,” she said in awe. “I mean… Just think about it. Jimin and I dived into a relationship even though I’m pretty sure neither of us really know where it’s going to go. But I mean… I’m not scared.”

“How can you not be scared?” You pressed.

“Because it’s Jimin,” Jeongyeon replied. “The scariest thing I did was admit that I have real feelings for a fuck buddy. Now we’re both in the same boat where we both like each other and we both want to stay together… That’s what matters. Not the possibility of a breakup.”

“Look, this is easy for both of you-” you insisted, but it made Jun hit you again.

“It’s easy for you too! Do you or do you not like Jeonghan?” Jun asked.

“No,” you said stubbornly.

“Right,” Jun replied sarcastically. “That’s why you are thinking about this so much. Just call him y/n.”

Before you could respond Jun walked over to you, digging your phone out of your pocket and shoving it into your hands.

“I can’t tell him that I like him over the phone,” you hissed back. “Okay, I relent. I like Jeonghan. I like his attention; I like his touch sexual or not. I… I want to be close to him. I want to see him every day. It’s thrilling being at a party where everyone wants him but I know at the end of the night he will be with me.”

You knew you didn’t have to say it.

“I just... I can’t tell him over the phone. I’ll go see him…” You trailed off. “But not today. Later. I have to think about what I’m going to say right?”

Was that just an excuse to avoid having to talk to Jeonghan? Yes, yes it was.

Because sure Jeonghan liked you, and sure you liked him, and sure you shouldn’t be scared that this wasn’t going to last but you were scared of it anyways and you didn’t have to think about it. Not yet. Not until you talked to him.

So… You just decided to push off talking to him.

And if it were any better, (your impending Psych degree said it wasn’t) you weren’t talking to anyone. Not Jeonghan, not Yeongtae, not Jeongyeon… Not until your phone started buzzing against your table while you were deep in your psych book.

You slid open the phone, wincing when your ear was hit with loud noises.

“Yeongtae?” You mumbled.

“Not Yeongtae. But calling on behalf of him.” There was silence for a little. “You’re y/n, his only friend right?”

You sighed, were people starting to know you for that reason?

“Yeah, that’s me. Yeongtae’s only friend.”

“He just threw up in a sink at a party. Can you come get him? He keeps saying that you’re the only one who would be willing to come get him.”

“He’s at a party on a Wednesday?”

The person on the other end of the phone, made a sound of offense.

“I’m also at a party on a Wednesday.” You two were quiet for a while. “Are you going to pick him up or not?”

You sighed and closed your textbook. What choice did you really have?

“Yeah, I’ll come get him.”

Your first thought upon getting to the party was that there were way too many people there for a Wednesday. Seriously, who went to a party on a Wednesday?

You wormed through the crowd, avoiding as much eye contact with people as you could.

“Y/n.”

You ignored the calls, immediately recognizing that whoever it was wasn’t Yeongtae.

But the ignoring was pointless.

“Y/n-” The boys voice came again. Louder. Whinier. You rolled your eyes and turned around in time for someone to collide into you. You both stumbled, making the boys head pop up out of your chest. He looked a little dizzy. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to fall into you.”

You frowned, squinting your eyes.

“Yeonjun?”

“Yeonjun!” He cheered loudly, throwing his hands in the air. The momentum splashed some of his beer out of the top of the cup in his hand and he jumped to the side to avoid it. You raised an eyebrow towards him. “Y/n, I’m so glad you’re here because I need to know how it went with Jeonghan.”

He took a swig of his drink and then his eyes widened.

“I’m so rude-” He thrust his cup forward. “Drink!”

You smiled at him.

“You know, I don’t want any but-” As you spoke you took the cup. “I’m going to take this away from you because I think you have had enough.”

A pout crossed Yeonjun’s lips, and he half-heartedly chased the drink. He gave up however once you had it pulled close to you.

“Why are you here if not to drink?” He asked.

“Looking for Yeongtae,” you replied. Yeonjun’s eyebrows furrowed deeply.

“Yeongtae?”

You raised your hand to Yeongtae’s height.

“This tall… Uh, mullet? I think. Long face?”

Yeonjun looked at you completely lost, and you sighed waving your hands in the air dismissively.

“Yeah, I just, I have to pick him up,” you mumbled. “Unfortunately, he’s my responsibility. He has no friends.”

“If he has no friends, how did he get invited to this party?” Yeonjun asked, with a genuinely confused expression on his face. You pressed your lips together and nodded slowly.

“You know what? Great question,” you agreed. “I really do have to look for Yeongtae. Are you…” You trailed off and gestured to the party around you. “Do you have anyone to get your home?”

“I have friends,” Yeonjun said cryptically. You frowned, but before you could say more Yeonjun was disappearing into the crowd of people.

Weird.

You turned and just as you did you caught a glimpse of the absolute last person that you wanted to see at this party.

Fuck, Yunjun.

You spun around on your heel, instantly desperate to disappear into the crowd, but you knew that Yunjun had seen you.

Yeongtae would be fine without you right? Maybe you could come get him from this place in the morning. Surely Yunjun wouldn’t be here at 8am. Maybe-

“Y/n-”

You resisted the urge to hit yourself in the face. Instead, you just pressed both of your eyes tightly shut and completely froze, hoping that Yunjun would go away. A hand landed on your shoulder.

You forced a smile across your lips, and turned around, shrugging the hand off of you.

“Yunjun,” you said. “How lucky am I to see you again so soon?”

Your enthusiasm wasn’t quite reaching your voice and Yunjun seemed to notice it. He reached forward, fisting his fingers into your shirt and pulled you sharply forward. Your eyes widened.

“Woah-”

Yunjun’s lips quirked up into a smile once you were close to him. His eyes narrowed a little.

“You haven’t been drinking,” he observed. “There’s the y/n that I know.”

You forced your lips into a larger smile and pressed your hands to Yunjun’s shoulders pushing him away with as much strength as you could muster.

“We aren’t doing this,” you said with a laugh. “Like. Really. We aren’t doing this.”

You weren’t sure exactly what it was about this. Was it the fact that it was a party on a Wednesday? Was it the fact that you were there to pick up Yeongtae? Or maybe it was the fact that you knew that someone liked you. The fact that you knew that if you wanted you could be with Jeonghan right now. Sitting on the Alpha Mu living room floor fucking around with legos while Jun begged Minghao for a house cat.

You wanted that. You really, really, wanted that because if that was your life right now you wouldn’t care about your stupid ex at a party. You wouldn’t have been so stressed this weekend and to top it all of you wouldn’t be here at this party picking up Yeongtae alone.

So, you figured, in the end it was that. Your own stupidity that was actually pushing you to speak to Yunjun like this. You were so fucking mad at yourself and you had no one to take it out on because even stupid Yeongtae just meant the best.

But Yunjun?

You had been waiting for ages to tear into him.

And if you were too stupid to simply have a conversation with Jeonghan, you were certainly too stupid to start an argument with Yunjun at a party.

Yunjun’s eyebrows furrowed, the corner of his lips dropping.

“What?”

“I’m not even supposed to be at this party,” you replied. “And you haven’t talked to me in months. Not really. Why would I willingly walk into this?”

Yunjun looked a bit confused. Probably because he was starting to realize that this wasn’t some bit that you were playing as foreplay.

“You can’t keep pretending like you don’t want me,” Yunjun said, but he sounded uncertain. You narrowed your eyebrows at him.

“I don’t want you,” you insisted. “I am not yours anymore and I was barely yours when I was.”

You saw a flicker of irritation go across Yunjun’s face and you knew that you were poking a bear. Honestly, you didn’t really care.

“I can’t really figure out what was worse about you actually. Your ego or the fact that you never made me come even once.”

“Y/n, you better watch your mouth-”

“Or what Yunjun? What are you going to do?” You asked. “What could you possibly do to me in a room full of people?”

You were very aware that you were letting your anger towards your unsure feelings towards Jeonghan get to you and you were very aware that you didn’t really care. But you also were aware of the fact that you would need a quick way out of this situation. You slid your phone out of your pocket, glancing at the screen as you pulled up the contact that you needed.

“Y/n, if you’re trying to play a brat right now you aren’t doing it well,” Yunjun warned.

“Do I look like I’m playing a brat?” You asked him. “Just because someone is finally telling you that you suck doesn’t mean that I’m playing a brat.”

You glanced back down at your phone; the call being picked up practically immediately.

“Y/n you have exactly two seconds to apologize to me,” Yunjun said, and his voice was low. Scary. “Or I’m going to show you exactly what I will do to you in a room full of people who- For your information are not looking at you and are so drunk they won’t notice anything.”

Wordlessly you shoved your phone against Yunjun’s ear, forcing it into his hands. At first Yunjun looked confused, but he took the phone, his eyebrows furrowing.

“Hello?”

He was silent for a moment.

“This is Yunjun, who the fuck is this?” There was some silence. “No.” More silence. More frustration from Yunjun. “It’s not my fault-” He stopped and sighed heavily. “Then why aren’t you here?”

Whatever was said next seemed to do the trick. Yunjun gave you a frustrated look.

“I’m sorry.”

His words were quiet but before you said that he rolled his eyes moving your phone slightly away from his ear.

“I said I’m sorry,” he said louder. He turned his head so that it was clear he was talking to the phone again. “Is that better?”

After a few more moments of silence, he looked at you, pushing your phone back into your hands.

“You…” He looked like he wanted to say more but he didn’t. He just shook his head and rolled his eyes. “Not fucking worth it.”

And then he walked away. You pressed your lips tightly together and glanced down at your phone for a few seconds before bringing the screen to your face. Despite the roar of the party, you could hear the breathing on the other end of the phone very clearly.

“Thank you.”

Your voice was a bit quiet, and you were practically withholding breathing so that you wouldn’t miss the next thing that was said.

“You’re welcome.”

More wasn’t said.

“I…” You were hesitant. “I’m not drunk I just… I was a little angry and I needed some back up.” There was another small stretch of silence. “I don’t usually go to parties on Wednesday’s but I-”

“You don’t have to explain to me why you’re at a party on a Wednesday. And if you wanted to get drunk at a party you know I wouldn’t judge you for that.”

“I know Jeonghan,” you said, and you could hear the desperation in your voice as you spoke. “I just… I want you to know that I really don’t mean to…” Fuck. “I really want to talk to you about it I just…”

“It’s okay,” he replied, but his voice was a little strained. “Take all the time you need.”

Now was a good time for you to hang up the phone.

“Jeonghan can you…” Don’t ask. “Can you pick me up?”

There was shuffling on Jeonghan’s end as soon as the words left your mouth.

“I’ll be there in ten.”

Well, that gave you ten minutes to find Yeongtae.

When Jeonghan pulled up to the house you were sitting directly next to a very drunk Yeongtae who you had found in the kitchen with his head dunked in the sink. Jeonghan rolled down the passenger seat window and took one glance at you two before sighing.

“Come on.”

You wrapped your fingers around Yeongtae’s biceps and dragged him up with you, also supporting him by his elbow. He stumbled next to you, and you struggled to keep him upright.

“Yeongtae,” you urged softly. He glanced up at you. “I know that you like to make my life miserable, but I still haven’t talked to Jeonghan and he is here to pick me… Us up okay? So don’t say anything stupid.”

“It’s not my fault if I say something,” Yeongtae replied, his words comically slurred. “You should have already talked to him. It’s been weeks.”

“It’s been like four days,” you argued back. “Now I’m serious. Be cool.”

You dragged Yeongtae over to Jeonghan’s car, and pulled open the back seat, pushing him in. Yeongtae groaned when his face hit the car seat and you scooted in next to him. You closed the door behind you and tried to wrestle Yeongtae upright in the seat beside you. Jeonghan was quiet as you situated Yeongtae in the seat, clicking the seatbelt across his chest.

Yeongtae’s head drifted to the side and his head bumped against the car window. He groaned.

“I’m sorry to ask,” you said, leaning forward. “I just- Well, I was studying and Yeongtae needed someone to pick him up.”

Jeonghan glanced over at you over his shoulder.

“You don’t have to explain it to me,” he said softly. You placed your hand on the center console of the car, which gave Jeonghan the opportunity to take your hand in his. He pulled you forward a little bit by your hand and a small smile flickered across his lips.

“No matter what our relationship becomes, no matter what you say to me, you can always call me if you need anything,” he said softly. “I really don’t want you to think that you ever need to apologize to me for anything.”

You were quiet for a little bit, looking at Jeonghan’s hand in yours.

“You told me that you’ve liked me since freshmen year and I just… Left.”

“At least you stayed for breakfast,” he replied. You couldn’t help the way that it caused a smile tug at the corner of your lips. Still though, you felt bad. “Where am I taking you and your dashing secret boyfriend?”

He laughed and gave your hand a squeeze. You ignored the secret boyfriend comment. He deserved to take jabs at your relationship with Yeongtae given the current circumstance.

“Can you take me to my place?” You asked him softly. “Yeongtae doesn’t have a roommate and I hate his place.”

Jeonghan’s hand left yours and he shifted the cars’ gear.

“Put your seat belt on,” he said. You nodded and leaned back into the seat, putting on your seat belt as you were told.

“I wasn’t going to come out,” you repeated softly. Even though Jeonghan told you that you didn’t have to explain you felt like you needed to. “It’s just that Yeongtae’s been trying so hard to make friends that he’s been going out a lot and, you know, he has no friends so when he got super drunk today, they called me. And I was just going to walk him home but-”

“You ran into Yunjun,” Jeonghan filled in. You nodded, even though Jeonghan couldn’t see you.

“I just didn’t have anyone else to call,” you said, but that wasn’t exactly true. You didn’t know what to say to Jeonghan about his confession. But you knew what you wanted to say.

… No you didn’t. You thought you knew what you wanted to say. You had the idea of what you wanted to say. You just didn’t know how to say it yet. All you knew was that you did have other people you could have called. You just chose to call Jeonghan because you wanted an excuse to see him.

That wasn’t fair. Jeonghan deserved a real response.

“Jeonghan,” you said softly. “I have a question that I shouldn’t really ask you.”

He glanced at you from in the rearview mirror.

“Ask it,” he said softly. You glanced away from him and looked at Yeongtae beside you. His face was red, and still pressed up against the window. He was sweating a little. You reached over, brushing his hair out of his face and pressing the back of your hand to his forehead so that you could feel the heat through your hand.

“Have you ever wanted a real relationship before?”

He was quiet for a second.

“No,” he replied. You glanced at the back of his head. “The only person who has ever made me want something serious is you.”

The car went over a pothole, and it made Yeongtae hit his head on the window. He groaned and tipped forward. You caught him with a hand to his chest.

“Woah.”

“Why did you let me drink so much?” Yeongtae groaned out. “I just wanted to impress Chaeryeong from Bio.”

You patted his back.

“For one, I had no control over how much you drank,” you commented. Yeongtae let out another groan, letting his head tip into your chest. You sighed and patted his head. “I’m sure Chaeryeong was really impressed when she saw you throwing up in the sink.”

You heard Jeonghan let out a small, amused huff from the front seat and you glanced up at him.

“Y/n, I feel so miserable,” Yeongtae whined, drawing your eyes back down to him.

“That’s your own fault, you idiot.”

You didn’t live very far away from the party and after only a few more minutes of bickering between you and Yeongtae Jeonghan was putting the car in park at the curb of your place. You unbuckled yourself and got out. You walked around to Yeongtae’s side of the car and opened the door, unbuckling him too. You ducked your head under Yeongtae’s arm, pulling him out of the car.

“Tell Jeonghan thank you,” you murmured.

“Thank you Jeonghan,” Yeongtae pressed out. “I know you hate me, but I really think that we are like friends you know?”

Jeonghan looked back at you two and you could tell from his expression that he didn’t agree. His eyes flickered up to you. You shot him a just play along with it expression and he sighed.

“Sure,” he replied tightly. “Friends.”

You mouthed thank you back at him and pulled Yeongtae out of the car, kicking the door shut with the back of your foot. You struggled to get Yeongtae over to the front door and once you got there you leaned Yeongtae against the wall so that you could get your keys out.

“Y/n.”

You look back over your shoulder at Jeonghan who had his window rolled down.

“Come here.”

You glanced at Yeongtae who looked… Stable, at the very least and then walked back over to Jeonghan’s car. You hid your hands behind your back.

“Yeah?”

Jeonghan looked frustrated by your distance, but he didn’t voice it.

“I just want you to know that I meant everything I said back then, and I meant everything I said tonight. It’s okay if you never give me an answer. I don’t care, I really don’t. What I really care about is you.”

He let his head fall to the side.

“I was so glad that you called me tonight. Even if it doesn’t mean you like me back… You remember what I said about… Reassurance?” he asked softly. You nodded. “You trust me. Even if you don’t like me the way I like you. You trust me. That’s all I care about.”

You felt your heart thudding in your chest.

“Jeonghan I-”

“Yeongtae is falling.”

Your eyes widened and you rushed back over to Yeongtae who was in fact sliding down the wall. You caught him by his bicep and pulled him back up to his feet. When you turned around Jeonghan’s lips were pressed into a small smile.

“I’m serious,” he called over to you. “You never have to respond to my confession if you don’t want to. I just want you in my life. That’s all.”

Before you could reply, Jeonghan raised a hand in Yeongtae’s direction.

“Hope you’re okay tomorrow Yeongtae.”

Yeongtae looked up, the biggest smile spreading across his lips.

“Goodbye best friend!” He exclaimed loudly. Jeonghan’s expression morphed into a slightly strained one and then before you could say anything else to him Jeonghan was driving away. You looked at the spot his car had been, completely forgetting about your plans to get back upstairs for a moment.

Then, you were very aware of the fact that Yeongtae was quite loudly sobbing on you.

“How long are you going to make Jeonghan wait?” Yeongtae cried out, and you looked down at him to see very real tears running down his face. “He’s my best friend and I love him so much.”

You gaped at the crying boy.

“Everyone with two eyes… No anyone with even one eye- no eyes! knows that you love Jeonghan. Just tell him already. Date him, he’s the perfect guy, and then finally we’ll be able to hang out without you because he won’t have to pretend to hate me.”

You fought the urge to tell Yeongtae that Jeonghan hadn’t been pretending when he said he hated him before and you immensely regretted the fact that you let Yeongtae be so involved with your life. You had called him after talking to Jun and Jeongyeon to tell him everything only for him to tell you the same things that they were. Annoying.

“We better get you inside,” was all you said.

“So… It’s Friday.”

You looked up at Yeongtae, your eyebrows furrowing at him.

“Yep,” you agreed. You were trying to read.

“It’s been a week since Jeonghan confessed to you and you haven’t even seen him since.”

“That’s not true,” you denied with a sigh. “We saw him Wednesday.”

Yeongtae’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“We did…?” He struggled to recall the memory for a moment before shaking his head. “Not the point- “Look, y/n you have to talk to him. You can’t keep avoiding him.”

You actually could keep avoiding him. In fact, nothing but pure decency was stopping you from doing so.

But, regardless, you knew what Yeongtae meant. You still didn’t give Yeongtae an answer. You looked back down at your book, willing Yeongtae and his common sense to go away.

“I heard he’s going to be at a non-Alpha Mu party tonight,” Yeongtae continued, completing ignoring your silent wishes. “You should really go.”

“He probably doesn’t even want me there,” you said, but you both knew that wasn’t true. “He hates it when I just come see him at parties.”

“Then start seeing him outside of parties,” Yeongtae said with a roll of his eyes. “But you can’t keep avoiding him. Avoidance hurts more than anything else.”

You knew he was right. You hated that he was right. You were the pysch major. You were the one that was supposed to know, be right, and act upon these things. But instead, you were being the wildly unhealthy one.

“Should you be going to parties right now?” You asked him, trying to divert the attention away from yourself. “You don’t seem to have good alcohol tolerance.”

Yeongtae feigned offense, but he didn’t really fall for your diversion.

“I’m trying to get a social circle,” Yeongtae replied, a pout crossing his lips. “You met me at a party. You met Jeonghan at a party. I’m trying to meet my Jeonghan at a party.”

You stared at him.

“You know what I mean.”

“I’m not…” You felt frustrated. “I’m trying to read Yeongtae.”

Yeongtae snatched the book out of your hands and squinted at it.

“Is this a romance?” He asked you. “You are living a romance. Why are you reading about one instead of living yours?”

You snatched the book back from Yeongtae and hit him hard on the shoulder with it. He let out a very loud and audible grunt.

“Y/n!” He protested. “I really don’t know why Jeonghan likes you you’re so mean.”

There was a pout on his lips, and you ignored it. You opened your book back up, thumbing through the pages to try and get back to where you were. Before you could get far, however, the book was being taken away from you again.

“You are not sitting in this apartment another night avoiding your feelings like an idiot,” Yeongtae insisted. He opened up your window and before you could stop him he threw your book out of the window.

“Yeongtae what the-”

You rushed over to the window, just in time to see the book audibly hit the ground.

“You can’t just-”

Yeongtae grabbed you by your wrist and he tugged you away from the window.

“We’re going,” he said pointedly.

“He might not even be there!” You protested loudly.

“He’s going to be there,” Yeongtae argued.

“He never goes to non-Alpha Mu parties,” you argued back.

“They are all going to be there.”

“No, they aren’t.”

Yeongtae pulled out his phone, and pointedly pulled up a contact that said Seungcheol. He put the phone on speaker and you two stood there, staring at each other as the phone rang and rang and-

“Your call can not to be completed as dialed, Choi-”

Yeongtae’s face dusted pink and he ended the line before immediately calling again. The phone rang and rang and-

“Your call can not-“

Yeongtae’s face reddened and he immediately called again. This time the call rang three more times before finally someone picked up.

“Hello…? Who-”

“Seungcheol!” Yeongtae said quickly. “Hey, it’s Yeongtae and-”

“Yeongtae?” You could hear Seungcheol’s confusion. “How did you get my phone number?”

Yeongtae laughed, clearly trying to save face in front of you.

“We’re friends!”

“We’re not friends,” Seungcheol protested. You huffed out a laugh. Apparently a mistake. “Is that… Is y/n with you?”

Your eyes widened and you shook your head quickly trying to tell Yeongtae not to tell Seungcheol you were there.

“Yes it is!” Yeongtae replied. “Say hi y/n.” You shut your eyes in frustration and silence strung out between the three of you. Silence that went on for a full minute before you finally broke it.

“Hi Cheol,” you mumbled reluctantly. You both heard some whispering on the other end of the phone.

“What are you two… Shut up, shut up they’re going to hang up- What are you two calling about?”

“I’m trying to force y/n to the party,” Yeongtae replied. “But she doesn’t believe that you are all even going to be there.”

More talking over the phone, it was somewhat muffled but you could make out what was being said.

“This is good, we want her at the party.”

“Would Jeonghan want her to see him like this?”

“It doesn’t matter- they need to-“

You could hear the audible sound of Seungcheol leaving whatever room he was in.

“Yeongtae’s right, we’re actually... Jeonghan’s already at the party.”

Seungcheol fell silent, but Yeongtae was taking his words in stride. He had the biggest shit-eating grin on his face, and you could practically hear him saying I told you so.

You snatched Yeongtae’s phone from him and covered the speaker on it.

“I am not going to the party. This is humiliating,” you hissed. “It’s bad enough people are starting to associate you and me as friends-”

“We are friends, and I know that you aren’t really embarrassed of me,” Yeongtae argued back. He was right, you were friends, and you weren’t embarrassed of him, but the slightly offended expression on his face was too funny for you not to keep the joke going.

“What would Jeonghan do if he found out that I only came to the party because you dragged me there.”

“He doesn’t care.” Seungcheol’s voice came muffled from the phone. “Y/n, he just wants to hear from you.”

Everyone on the phone call knew that wasn’t true. He definitely would care if Yeongtae was the one that finally got you to come to the party. And honestly, you didn’t blame him. If Jeonghan was doing the same thing you were doing with Yeongtae with Chaedom…? You would be mad too.

Of course, there was one stark difference between Chaedom and Yeongtae and that was that Yeongtae genuinely didn’t want to fuck you, but Chaedom definitely did want to fuck Jeonghan.

“Y/n.”

You looked up from the phone to find that Yeongtae was looking at you. His expression was more serious than you had ever seen it before. Every single trace of humor gone from his face despite having been there moments ago.

“You can’t stop avoiding him. You’re going to regret it. You know you’re going to regret it. You have to go see him.”

Again silence strung out between the three of you. You repressed the urge to sigh and nodded once.

“Okay, yeah.” You looked down at Yeongtae’s phone as if you could look at Seungcheol. “Can you text Yeongtae the details? We can be there soon.”

You could see the small smile that crossed Seungcheol’s face even though you couldn’t see him.

“Okay, see you two soon.”

The line disconnected and you shot Yeongtae an annoyed glare.

“I really didn’t want to go to a party this week,” you mumbled. Yeongtae shot you a smile.

“Guess you should’ve put that psych degree to work earlier then.”

When you and Yeongtae got to the party, you did the obvious thing and immediately abandoned him at the door. You didn’t think that he was expecting you to hang out with him longer but if he was than it didn’t matter at all because you were gone so fast that he couldn’t stop you even if he wanted to.

After all, if you were going to be forced to a non-Alpha Mu party because you needed to talk to Jeonghan you weren’t going to put off talking to Jeonghan. The longer that you avoided talking to Jeonghan while at a party was really just… The longer you had to be at a party.

Besides, you missed Jeonghan.

Did you deserve to miss him after you had ignored him for so long? Not really. But you missed him regardless.

You didn’t spot Jeonghan, not first. But you did spot someone from Alpha Mu pretty fast.

“Hey,” you said, waving down Soonyoung. He turned to you, his lips turning up into a huge smile.

“Y/n!” He said excitedly. He grabbed onto the shoulders of the boy next to him. “Woo! It’s y/n!”

Wonwoo sent a tired smile your way.

“It’s good you’re here,” he said. “I thought you and Jeonghan had made up?”

“Uh,” you weren’t really sure what to say. “It’s complicated.”

It wasn’t really.

“Where’s Jeonghan?” You asked, ignoring the slightly dazed expression that was now on Soonyoung’s face. He turned his attention and jumped excitedly, grabbing someone else beside him.

“Y/n’s here!” He exclaimed again, laughing loudly. You couldn’t help the chuckle that ran through you, and the tired smile on Wonwoo’s face deepened.

“Jeonghan is… Unfortunately, fighting for his life against Chaedom,” Wonwoo said. You felt a pang run through your body at her name, and you tried and failed to keep your reaction hidden from Wonwoo.

He rolled his eyes.

“You two are ridiculous,” he mumbled, and you really almost didn’t hear it over the roar of the party. Wonwoo pointed through the crowd, towards the stairs. You tried to ignore the heaviness in your chest and instead focused on worming through the crowd. Part of you had wished that Wonwoo had taken you to Jeonghan himself, but those thoughts dissipated when you spotted Jeonghan and Chaedom.

Jeonghan had a red solo cup in hand, uncharacteristic, and Chaedom draped over his side. To his credit, he didn’t look like he particularly wanted her there.

You made your way over to them, clearing your throat when you were close enough that you thought they could hear. Both of them looked up at the sound, whatever secret conversation they were having seeming to die.

Jeonghan’s lips quirked up in a tired smile, while Chaedom just rolled her eyes, and rolled herself onto Jeonghan’s body.

“Hannie,” she purred. “Why are we still down here? Let’s go to a room, huh?”

You fought the urge to tear her off of Jeonghan yourself and it was genuinely taking all of your willpower to not do so.

“Y/n.” As Jeonghan spoke he pushed at Chaedom’s face, his cup falling to the ground and splashing alcohol all over their feet. Chaedom squealed pulling away from him, which was something that he took in stride.

He stumbled over to you, dropping his entire body weight onto you. You grunted as you tried to catch him, stumbling as well. Luckily, you were able to steady the two of you. Jeonghan swung his face to meet yours, a smile crossing his lips.

“Why are you here?” He asked you. You could smell the alcohol on his lips, and you frowned. You pulled away from him, your thumb going to his bottom lip. You pulled his lip down your eyebrows furrowing as the alcohol scent grew stronger.

“Were you drinking?” You asked. He whined, quiet loudly honestly, and his head fell into the crook of your neck.

“No.”

“You’re lying,” you bit back. You pushed Jeonghan’s head back, giving him an annoyed look. “I thought you were done lying to me.”

“I couldn’t help it,” Jeonghan admitted. “I can tell you’re mad at me. I hate it when you’re mad at me.”

“I get mad when you lie to me,” you replied, pointedly.

“You can’t get mad at him for drinking.”

You sent a glare towards the offending girl which only resulted in Chaedom placing her hands on Jeonghan’s back. She patted Jeonghan, her fingers curling in the fabric of Jeonghan’s shirt. She tugged on him.

“I wouldn’t be mad at you for drinking, Jeonghan.”

You rolled your eyes, tugging him away from her.

“Chaedom, you’re about to make me mad,” you snapped. “I think that if Jeonghan wanted to spend time with you he would have done so already.”

Jeonghan didn’t seem to care about the conversation that you two were having. Instead, he tightened his grip around you.

“Y/n,” he mumbled into your skin. You felt a shiver run through your body as the words vibrated over you. You pushed Jeonghan back again by his forehead.

“Jeonghan,” you replied, an eyebrow raising in his direction. “It isn’t like you to get drunk.”

His lips were stretched down into a frown, and it was in this light that you could see how red his cheeks were.

“It’s been a week, y/n,” he mumbled. “I’ve been waiting for you for a week.” He thought back over what he said and sighed. “Two days since I’ve seen you… A week since I confessed… Wednesday doesn’t really count.”

Pain panged through your heart at Jeonghan’s words, and you blinked in surprise. You opened your mouth to say something to him. Apologize maybe… Something.

Instead, before you could, Jeonghan tipped his head back into the nap of your neck.

“You know, I don’t even care if you like me back,” Jeonghan mumbled. “Just need you to stop doing this to me. Stop leaving me.”

The party around you felt quiet in this moment.

“I think I should get you home,” you mumbled softly. Jeonghan protested against you.

“No, we’re at a party,” he protested. “Chan is going to be so mad if I leave. He wanted me to come here.”

“I think Chan will understand if you leave,” you said back. “I won’t take you back home, okay? I’ll bring you over to my place.”

Getting Jeonghan back to your place was a hassle, mostly in that no matter how hard you tried you couldn’t shake Chaedom off of your tail.

“You can’t get him back alone.” She pointed out. You tried to turn the attention away from her and get one of the boys to help you but as you were trying to get their attention Chaedom was dragging Jeonghan out of the party.

You cursed and rushed out to them.

“Chaedom.”

Her smile was sickeningly sweet.

“I’m just trying to help,” she insisted. “Where are we going?”

She cooed against Jeonghan’s ear.

“Maybe he would be happier back at my place.”

You glared at her.

“My apartment is a five minutes’ walk from here.”

You ducked yourself under one of Jeonghan’s arms. You sort of wished he wasn’t drunk solely for the fact that currently he was completely useless.

You weren’t sure exactly how much he had to drink that night but honestly it seemed like the only thing he could do was walk forward at your prodding. He wasn’t in any way interested in Chaedom, but just her holding Jeonghan despite the fact that she was helping was making you angry.

“Don’t you have anything better to do?” You mumbled as the three of you got to your front door. She shook her head.

“I’m still waiting for Jeonghan to remember that I’m here,” she replied softly. She reached around, tapping Jeonghan’s cheek. “Are you sure you don’t want to come over to my place baby?”

That tightness coiled in your chest, and you slapped her hand away from his face.

“Chaedom,” you warned. “He’s not your fucking baby.”

Chaedom rolled her eyes at your words, but readjusted her grip on Jeonghan again so that she was just supporting him. Jeonghan however, seemed to think that now was the right time to pipe into the conversation.

“Shouldn’t curse,” he chided you softly. “’s bad.”

You pressed your lips together, your eyes briefly fluttering shut because what the fuck. After a second however your attention was back on your front door. You pushed the door open, wide enough for Jeonghan (and subsequently Chaedom) to come inside.

Once inside, Jeonghan was able to unwrap himself from Chaedom’s grasp. He stumbled into your living room, and then glanced over at you from his shoulder.

“Remember the last time we were here?” He asked, his voice high and teasing.

“Jeonghan-”

“You literally crawled.” He shook his head in disbelief and looked over at Chaedom. “She’s literally so good for me. Does whatever I want her to.”

His words were a bit slurred, but unfortunately Chaedom could hear him just fine. Her lips pressed into a firm line.

“I could be good for you,” she protested. Jeonghan hummed, and suddenly dropped to the ground. Both you and Chaedom darted forward but before either of you could reach him, he was steadying himself so that he was sitting on the floor.

“You’re not good for me,” he denied, peering at Chaedom. “You don’t listen very well.”

“Jeonghan, get off the floor,” you chided with a sigh. You closed the distance between you two and pulled at his forearm. He refused to budge.

“I don’t want to,” he insisted.

“You sound like a baby,” you said bluntly. He pulled his arm out of your grasp and wrapped his arms over his chest.

“You should do something with me,” he insisted. “We could watch a movie, and I could fuck you during the climax.”

You shot Jeonghan a glare.

“Would you fuck me if I was drunk?” You asked him. He pressed his lips together in annoyance, but that was answer enough. “Then I’m not fucking you while you’re drunk.”

“I would let you fuck me while you were drunk,” Chaedom piped up unhelpfully.

“Chaedom-”

Before you could finish telling her off, Jeonghan’s fingers wrapped around your hand and he suddenly tugged you down. You let him bend your body forward, surprised by the sudden contact. Once he had you so that your face was near his he placed both of his hands on your cheeks, squeezing your face in his hands.

“Y/n, I just missed you,” he said, and there was a pathetic pout spread over his lips. Part of you wanted to blame the alcohol entirely on the behavior, but deep down you knew you couldn’t really. Jeonghan would probably talk to you like this either way. “I just really fucking missed you.”

It was probably just because Chaedom was here- No it was definitely because Chaedom was here, but you felt irritation shoot through you at his words.

“You shouldn’t curse,” you replied, sending his own words back at him. “It’s bad.”

That pout deepened on his lips for a moment and you felt bad for about two seconds.

“I don’t know why she is treating you like a baby,” Chaedom said. She walked up to the two of you and crouched down in front of Jeonghan. Jeonghan glanced at her. Briefly. But it bothered you. You pulled out of Jeonghan’s hands.

You willed yourself to not be so jealous of their interactions. It was really stupid to be upset when Jeonghan was practically giving Chaedom no attention at all.

“You need water,” you murmured. You walked into your kitchen, screaming in your head. “Chaedom would you like some too?”

“That would be nice yeah.”

You fought yourself from mocking her. You started to grab water from your fridge for the two and as you did you could hear Jeonghan and Chaedom talking and shuffling around. You forced yourself to focus on your fridge. Begging yourself not to turn around because it would just make you upset.

“Han-”

Something collided into your back jostling your body forward a little. You caught yourself on the door of the fridge, turning over your shoulder when you realized it was just Jeonghan. He wrapped his arms around your body and groaned into your back.

“Y/n, I don’t want water.”

You shimmied around in Jeognhan’s arms so that you were facing him. You buried your fingers into his hair and pulled his head up. He still had a dumb pout on his face, and it just made your heart skip a beat in your chest.

God, he was so cute.

“I didn’t ask if you wanted water,” you replied pointedly. You blindly reached into your fridge and luckily, grabbed a water bottle. You pulled it out of the fridge and took the lid off the bottle. You pressed it to his lips. “Drink.”

Jeonghan turned away from the bottle.

“No,” he argued back. “Kiss me.”

“You taste like alcohol,” you replied. “Drink the water, and maybe I’ll kiss you.”

Jeonghan’s eyebrows furrowed at you in frustration.

“But-”

You pushed the bottle back in front of his lips.

“Maybe,” you reasserted.

Jeonghan sighed and took the bottle out of your hands. When he lowered the bottle back down, half of the water was gone. A smile crossed his lips.

“A kiss?”

“I thought you said you didn’t care if I liked you,” you said softly. Jeonghan pulled himself closer to you, his face coming within inches of yours.

“I lied,” Jeonghan reasserted. He pressed closer to you, so that your lips brushed his. A smile crossed his lips and his eyes darted down. How could you say no to that?

You pressed your lips to his, something that Jeonghan immediately took control of. His hands raised to your face just so that he could deepen the kiss, but you didn’t let that last for too long. You pulled away from him, ignoring the way he chased you and whined.

“Y/n,” he insisted. You pulled yourself all the way out of his arms, and turned back to the fridge, grabbing a second water bottle.

“Finish your water and we’ll talk,” you replied. Jeonghan grumbled but raised his bottle back to his lips. You turned your attention back to Chaedom who was just sitting on your floor watching the two of you with an annoyed expression on her face.

You handed her the water bottle, trying not to throw it in her face.

“Did you drink a lot too?” You asked her. Or did you just get Jeonghan to drink a lot?

“Do you really care?” She bit back.

Touché.

You got to stand there for a good two seconds before Jeonghan was falling into you again.

“I drank a lot,” Jeonghan insisted. You raised an eyebrow towards him. “I meant water. I drank a lot of water.”

You rolled your eyes.

“You need to go to sleep,” you told him. Jeonghan groaned and tilted his face into your chest again.

“I get to see you for two seconds and then you make me go to sleep?” He complained. His fingers dug into your shirt. “I don’t want to sleep.”

“I very clearly didn’t ask,” you replied.

“You’re being mean to me,” Jeonghan complained. You were just barely aware that that was true.

“I wouldn’t be mean to you,” Chaedom asserted, unhelpfully, of course.

“You’re why she’s being mean to me,” Jeonghan bit out towards her. He looked up at you. “You’re jealous.”

You rolled your eyes.

“I’m not-”

Jeonghan’s fingers tightened in your hair and he straightened up holding your head tight so that you were forced to face him.

“Don’t lie to me, y/n,” he said, his voice low. “I may be drunk but I’m not stupid. You know Chaedom doesn’t mean anything to me.”

You pressed your lips into a thin line, refusing to say anything. Really just embarrassed because your jealousy was being outed in front of the person who you were jealous of. You did know that Chaedom didn’t mean anything to Jeonghan. You still didn’t like it when she touched him.

“Y/n, say it.”

You scoffed, letting the silence fill between the two of you.

“I’ll-”

Before Chaedom could piss you off more you murmured: “I know Chaedom doesn’t mean anything to you.”

Jeonghan nodded with a hum.

“Good.”

You let your attention turn back to him.

“I’m not just being jealous when I say that you need to sleep,” you insisted. You wrinkled your nose. “I can smell the alcohol from here.”

Jeonghan’s lips quirked down.

“But-”

“Seriously,” you insisted. “You left some clothes over last time and you can sleep in them. Just go to bed and I’ll see you in the morning.”

Jeonghan’s eyebrows rose suddenly, and his fingers loosened in your hair.

“You…” He trailed off and shook his head. “You’ve got to stop keeping men’s clothes after you’re done sleeping with them.”

“I-” You exhaled your frustration. “I wasn’t…” You glanced over at Chaedom. “This isn’t a conversation I want to have in front of Chaedom and this isn’t a conversation I want to have with you when you’re drunk.”

Jeonghan’s eyes briefly followed yours and he looked at Chaedom. A genuinely pained look crossed his face.

“Can’t you just leave?”

A pout crossed her lips.

“But I’m so drunk.”

Jeonghan’s eyes turned back to you and he sent you a pitiful expression.

“I want to talk now,” he insisted. “You always put off talking.”

To be honest, you did always put off talking with him. You should have come to him way earlier. It was like they always said… If they wanted to they would. You could have made time for him if you had really tried but… You were nervous.

There was no fear of rejection and yet, an unpleasant feeling was building in your throat.

“Tomorrow,” you said softly. “When you are sober.” His expression didn’t change. “I promise.” Still the same. “Really.”

Finally, Jeonghan relented. He let his hands fall to the side.

“Fine,” he grumbled. “But you’re going to sleep with me… Right?”

You gave Jeonghan a stiff nod. He nodded back to you and turned, swaying a little as if his drunkness had finally come back to him. He looked back over his shoulder and pointed to Chaedom.

“If you ever talk to me again.” He didn’t finish but his tone and expression were serious. Then another pained expression crossed his face. “I’m going to go throw up.”

You and Chaedom watched him stumble to the bathroom. Normally, you thought you would follow him. Hold his hair back, but Chaedom was still here.

You glanced over at her.

“Can you leave now?” You asked. She rolled her eyes and walked over to your couch. She plopped down on it defiantly.

You sighed, and disappeared down your hallway, reappearing with a spare blanket and a pillow. Yeah, you hated her, but to her credit her cheeks were red from the alcohol and you thought maybe the reason that she was always so… Shameless was maybe because she was always drunk when you saw her.

You threw the blanket and pillow at her face.

“There’s water in my fridge,” you mumbled. “Don’t die in my living room.”

As you wandered down the hall, you stopped by your bathroom, peaking in at Jeonghan. He was laying with his head on your toilet seat. You cracked the door open leaning on the doorframe.

“That’s disgusting.”

He held up a bottle of bathroom cleaner.

“I cleaned it,” he replied. “Made it worse. Bleach makes me want to wretch.”

He turned his head into your toilet bowl a little, his cheeks puffing out briefly. He sat there for a little bit, the strands of his hair falling pathetically into his eyes.

You closed the distance between you two, crouching in front of him. You brushed the hair out of his face, your thumb flickering over his cheekbone. He let his eyes flutter closed at the touch.

“It wasn’t worth it to drink,” he mumbled. “I’m going to be in so much pain tomorrow.”

You stared at him for so long that he opened his eyes, giving you the biggest puppy dog eyes, you had ever seen from a man in his 20s.

“You make me stupid, y/n,” he said softly.

You pressed your lips together tightly and nodded once. You didn’t respond to that because how could you? It was still a little baffling. Jeonghan, the campus play boy, made stupid by you.

Your eyes drifted away from Jeonghan briefly.

You wondered if he realized how stupid he made you. All your years as a psychology student were made null when it came to him. It was like when you were with him you forgot how to have healthy communication. You really had to work on that.

“You think you can make it to the bedroom?” You asked him softly. His eyes closed again, an annoyed groan vibrating through his body. “Well, I’m not going to stay with you in the bathroom. I’m tired.”

You pulled your hand away from Jeonghan, which just made him whine in protest.

“It’s like babysitting,” you protested even though honestly you would stay up with a drunk Jeonghan for as long as he wanted you to. You were just frustrated. Chaedom was still in your living room and for some reason even though Jeonghan had literally confessed his love to you she still thought she had a chance and-

“Help me up,” Jeonghan practically pleaded. You rolled your eyes, and grabbed Jeonghan by his wrist, tugging him up.

“Yeah, yeah.”

When you woke up, you were partially afraid to move. Jeonghan had an armed draped over your chest, and his head rested on your stomach.

After an hour you realized that you needed to get up no matter if Jeonghan was up or not. It was better to wake him up with food, probably.

You somehow managed to untangle yourself from his body without waking him, and you ended up leaving him splayed over your sheets, eyebrows furrowed. You wondered what he was dreaming about.

You walked down your hallway,

“What are you making?”

You barely muffled a scream by slapping your hand over your lips. You exhaled sharply, your eyes closing and nose furrowing slightly when you realized that it was just Chaedom standing at the edge of your kitchen.

“Why the…” You buried your face in your hand. “Chaedom why are you still here?”

She didn’t speak so you let your hand drop to your sides. She was staring at you, one of her cheeks red from having slept on it, her tight dress bunched up just a little higher than it should have been and her hair a tangled mess.

You felt kind of bad for her.

A little.

“He doesn’t love you,” you said. You shifted your attention. “He doesn’t even like you. Why are you doing this?”

She just stood there, staring at you.

“Look, you’re pretty, you’re better than this,” you said. “What is the point of going after some frat guy who is notorious for fucking around? So, what if Yoon Jeonghan doesn’t want to fuck you. I’m sure plenty of guys want to. Why are wasting your time on the one who doesn’t like you?”

Chaedom’s gaze dropped away from you, her bottom lip quivering slightly. You sucked in a small breath, about to continue berating her when a soft sob wrecked through her body.

“My boyfriend cheated on me,” she blurted. Your eyebrows rose in surprise at the confession, but before you could say anything in response she was colliding into your chest, her arms wrapping tightly around her body.

“Oh-”

“I thought that he loved me,” she cried into your chest, her tears literally already soaking through your pajama shirt. “I thought he loved me but then he fucking cheated on me and I thought men fucking suck, I’m just going to sleep with whoever makes me feel good about myself.”

Her fingers balled into your shirt and she pulled her face from out of your chest to look up at you from behind her red eyes.

“And then the first guy that I go to sleep with. The one who is the ultimate fuck boy, who is all no commitments and fuck whoever walks doesn’t want to sleep with me because suddenly he isn’t a trash human being.”

She let out another loud cry and then her forehead tipped back into your chest. She briefly knocked the breath out of you, and you stumbled a little to accommodate her weight.

“And I can’t even blame him,” she wailed into your stomach. “You’re fucking beautiful and kind and perfect.”

Your mouth dropped a little bit.

“Men really do change for the right people and Shindong just wouldn’t change for me.”

You couldn’t help the confused expression that spread over your face. You stood there motionless for a little bit, waiting for her crying to calm down. After a few minutes it didn’t. You pressed your eyes shut tightly when you realized that you were going to have to actually to confront the conversation.

You awkwardly patted Chaedom’s back.

“Hey,” you said uncertainly. She just kept sobbing into your chest. “Hey, Chaedom you-” You sighed, and pressed your hand to her forehead, pushing her back. “Go… Go sit down on at the island, okay?”

The tears continued to run down her cheeks, and she took two large breaths.

“I don’t want to impede,” she managed to get out. You were so strong and such a good person for being able to hold yourself back because wasn’t everything she had done since you met her impeding?

“It’s fine,” you insisted. “Just… Sit okay?”

Chaedom sniffled but nodded, finally peeling off of you. She walked over to one of the stools and fitted herself on it.

“Look, you’re wrong, okay?” You said softly. You grabbed one of your skillets and cracked an egg into it, turning up the heat on the stove. “Men don’t change for people. People don’t even change for people. They just don’t.”

You turned over your shoulder to look at her.

“The psychology behind cheating is complicated because sometimes it makes sense and it’s easy to pin down. People cheat because they are angry or have low commitment or esteem issues. Some people are just fucking narcissists and they get bored so they just do something to see how the other person will react. I don’t know why Shindong cheated on you. Even Shindong might not know why he cheated on you.”

Chaedom’s bottom lip quivered.

“So… I should… I should take him back?”

“No,” you blurted back, shaking your head. “I’m saying that you are going to spend hours and days and weeks, maybe even months trying to figure out why he did what he did. But you won’t. You will never know why, and even if he tells you, you can never trust him.”

You shrugged and turned your attention back to the eggs.

“Because he lied to you once, and if he gets away with it once he will try to get away with it again,” you continued. “I mean the way that men and women cheat is different. There are a lot of studies done about how it seems that men generally cheat for the sexual thrill while women tend to cheat due to feelings of love or intimacy-”

Your eyes narrowed a little as you realized you were wildly getting off-track. Your summer psychology project was finally coming in use and you were a little too excited over that.

“Not the point.” You focused back in on the eggs. “Shindong cheated on you, and he probably would have cheated on someone else too. In my experience, no matter who it was Shindong would have cheated. You couldn’t have changed him. That’s just who he is down to his core.”

You scooped some of the eggs onto a plate, and walked over to Chaedom, pushing the plate of eggs towards her. You gave her a pressed smile and grabbed a glass of juice for her. You quirked your eyebrows up slightly silently telling her to eat.

She complied, but as soon as she had a mouthful of eggs in her mouth she was talking again.

“Bafeawut faow shoes chat mesplain wan.”

Your eyebrows furrowed.

“What?”

She swallowed.

“But how does that explain Jeonghan?” She repeated. “He was a fuck boy, and he changed for you.”

“He didn’t change for me,” you denied. You cracked a few more eggs into the skillet. “The Jeonghan who stopped sleeping with other people and became desperate for my attention and turned down everyone for me wasn’t a change in personality.”

As you spoke you heard a creak from down the hall. Both you and Chaedom glanced into the hall and you saw that Jeonghan was standing there. He looked exhausted, his whole body weight leaned onto the wall. You pressed your lips into a thin smile.

“That’s just who he’s been all along.”

“That’s a nice sentiment,” Jeonghan drawled softly. “But not completely true. Maybe I didn’t change but there is no one in this world like you.”

You rolled your eyes, glancing away from him and back to Chaedom.

“You’re not meant to be with Shindong, and you’re not meant to be with Jeonghan but that doesn’t mean that you’re unlovable,” you pressed. “You’ll find someone, you just have to give it time is all.”

Chaedom let out an annoyed sound and let her face fall to the counter. Your mouth dropped open at the sudden action and to be completely honest, you were a bit worried that she had hurt herself. But then she turned her head to the side and blurted out: “Everything hurts.”

You realized that physically she was fine.

Jeonghan wandered over to the counter and sat down two stools away from Chaedom. He gave her an uncomfortable look and then his eyes flitted back to yours. He pressed his lips into a small pout.

“You made her eggs before me?”

You rolled your eyes and gestured to the eggs in the skillet.

“You were asleep. Just wait a second.”

Chaedom peeled her face up and looked at Jeonghan with a still pathetic expression on her face. Jeonghan’s nose wrinkled a little.

“Chaedom,” he mumbled.

“Jeonghan,” she replied.

You couldn’t believe that this was your life. Free therapy for a girl you hated, and babysitting for a guy who was in love with you.

You dumped Jeonghan’s eggs onto a plate and then placed them in front of him. He grabbed you by the wrist when you were close to him and pulled you in a little more. Your breath caught and you pressed your lips together.

His eyes flickered down to said lips. He smiled.

“Y/n-”

“Not in front of Chaedom,” you insisted, pulling away from him. He pouted again, but you turned away so that you didn’t have to look at him.

Breakfast was awkward, the silence in the room deafening but you were avoiding Jeonghan’s eye contact like it was the plague and Chaedom was still crying to the point were you were seriously considering saying more.

Before it could get to that point however she sucked in a deep breath and nodded.

“I should get going.”

It was a relief to hear those words, and you saw Jeonghan perk up but you tried not to let your excitement show too much.

“Yeah?” You managed out. She sighed and nodded, getting to her feet and sending you a sad smile.

“I think I’ve overdone my stay a little.”

You didn’t agree but… You wanted to. Chaedom got to her fear and you followed to the door (but you could hear the padding of Jeonghan’s feet on the ground behind him so you knew he was following too).

“Are you sure you’re going to be okay?” You asked softly, unable to believe that the words were leaving your mouth out of a genuine place for concern. Chaedom gave you a tired smile, her eyes still dark red from all the crying she had been doing.

“I’m going to a friend’s house,” she assured. “Thanks for everything.”

Jeonghan was still hovering close to you, his hand on the small of your back. You respected that he was fighting so hard to not be too touchy but… you were glad that his hands were on you.

… And not Chaedom.

Chaedom’s eyes went to Jeonghan’s as if she could hear your thoughts.

“You know if you get tired of y/n, you can always call me.” She laughed and somehow within the laugh she started to cry again. You felt your fingers balling into tight fists. “I’m kidding. I-I’m going to go now.”

She gave you both a wave.

“I’ll see you later,” you said, giving her a pressed smile. She smiled back and then suddenly darted forward, wrapping her arms around your body tightly.

“You are so nice.”

You swallowed hard and patted her back.

“It’s… Going to be okay,” you assured. She nodded and pulled away.

“Okay, thanks.”

And then finally she was gone.

You felt your whole body deflate as soon as Jeonghan shut the door behind her, and without even thinking you tilted your head forward into his chest. You let out a loud groan. Jeonghan’s hand came to your head, and he patted you comfortingly.

“You were very strong to be so nice,” Jeonghan complimented softly. “If that were Yeongtae, I would have snapped him in half.”

You rolled your eyes and didn’t respond to him.

“Of course, you took out your rage towards her at me, which is annoying.”

“If I go to another party-” You looked up at him and sent him a glare. “And Chaedom, is wrapped around you as if she has a chance-”

Jeonghan dipped his head down, his lips pressing briefly to yours. Your eyes fluttered shut, and as naturally as you breathed, you pressed into the kiss. The hand on your back pressed you closer, and Jeonghan’s other hand raised to the back of your head.

He broke the kiss, his lips quirking upwards.

“You really have nothing to be jealous over,” Jeonghan assured softly. “And it’s really not healthy, but I love how jealous you get… You’re so fucking cute. As if I would ever look at anyone the way I look at you.”

His lips pressed briefly to yours again. You pulled away slightly, taking a sharp breath.

“W-We,” you breathed softly. “We need to talk, don’t we?”

Another small exhale and Jeonghan was creating more space between the two of you. His eyes narrowed a little, his nose scrunching very slightly. He gave you a very focused expression.

“Is it going to go well?” He asked you. “Because if the answer is that you are rejecting me, but you’ll kiss me before the conversation then we can push it back a little bit.”

A small laugh vibrated through your body.

“That’s not very healthy,” you reminded him softly, as if you had been the prime example of healthy communication and relationship managing this week. He rolled his eyes.

“Okay, let’s talk,” he agreed. He peeled away from you, patting you on the shoulders. He seemed hesitant to pull away from you completely, but after a few moments he finally did. He took in a sharp breath and nodded.

“Do we need a recap?”

Your eyebrows furrowed.

“A recap?” You mumbled. He nodded.

“I… Really want a relationship with you,” he said softly. “I don’t want to lose you to someone you think will treat you better. No one will treat you better than me.”

“You didn’t…” You glanced away from him. “Didn’t quite say that before.”

“No?” Jeonghan’s voice was so quiet.

It wasn’t like he hadn’t said that, exactly. You just hadn’t really expected to hear it so… Directly.

“So… You like me, and you want to date me,” you replied softly. Trying to just nod slowly. Jeonghan’s eyes on you were making it really hard to focus. “And… I like you… For sure. So, the logical next step is to… Date you.”

Jeonghan didn’t say anything, for so long that you couldn’t help but look over at him. He was watching you with a different expression than you thought that he would have on his face. It wasn’t relief or excitement. His eyebrows were furrowed, lips turned down. He seemed concerned.

“Do you want to date me?” He asked you. Your lips pressed together, and you nodded, but there was a knot in your throat. Jeonghan’s eyebrows furrowed further. “You know you don’t have to do everything that I want you to. If you just want to sleep together still, I can do that.”

That wasn’t what you wanted. But somehow voicing that seemed terrifying. Jeonghan let you try to formulate words for a while, before finally speaking again.

“Y/n, can I hear about your relationship with Yunjun?”

A topic change was exactly what you had wanted, but a topic change to this was not what you had wanted. It was worse, possibly.

“No,” you mumbled softly. Jeonghan nodded.

“Okay,” he said.

You two were completely quiet before you shook your head, scrunching your nose.

“No, I mean. Yeah, uh, it wasn’t really a relationship,” you replied. “It was sort of like us? I mean, we weren’t actually strangers. He knew someone I knew, and we ended up sleeping together and he was rough and I liked that so…” You felt like you were going into too much detail. “We saw each other for a few months? I think, and then I broke it off.”

“Why?” He prodded.

“He was mean,” you said with a shrug. “Most of my past flings with people were like that. But I mean, that’s the hazard when I like what I do right?”

You tried to laugh it off to lighten the mood, but Jeonghan didn’t crack a smile. In fact, the expression on his face was terrifying. He wasn’t mad, he wasn’t happy. He was listening and you couldn’t figure out exactly what he was feeling.

“Have you dated many people?” Jeonghan asked. You shook your head.

“Only a few,” you replied. You were quiet for a little while, but Jeonghan didn’t rush you. “Honestly mostly just fucked people casually. No dates. Always people I knew but wasn’t close to. Always happened more than once.” Again, too much detail. Jeonghan didn’t comment on that.

“Did you break up with them?”

“That’s a weird question,” you mumbled and again you were quiet. Why was talking to Jeonghan about this so hard? You could tell Jeongyeon about these things in your sleep, but with Jeonghan you honestly felt like you were suffocating.

Maybe it was just because you knew Jeongyeon so well. You could probably fuck five guys at the same time in front of her and she wouldn’t shame you for it. If you really wanted to, you could tell her every gruesome detail of your relationship with Jeonghan and she would listen intently and try to see it your way.

It was Jeongyeon and this was Jeonghan and they were different.

Would Jeonghan judge you for your dating history? Would he think you were actually a slut if he heard about the way that you let other men treat you? Why did you even care? You never cared what others thought of you.

“Yeah. I’ve always been the one to end things.”

Jeonghan was quiet and you had to look at him again. He was so good at getting your attention. Jeonghan held a hand out to you, and without thinking too much you took it. He pulled you closer to him.

“Am I too mean to you?” He asked softly. You shook your head, looking up at him nervously. “I don’t ever want to hurt you y/n. I lied to you and that is the last stupid thing that I will ever do.”

Jeonghan took your other hand in his and his thumbs circled over your knuckles.

“But if this is too much for you-”

“It’s not,” you pressed. “I just…” You pressed your lips together shyly, stubbornly keeping your eyes on the floor. “Say it again…”

“Again?” He asked softly. He seemed a little confused. “Say what again?”

You didn’t want to say it but he kept letting the stupid silence fill the room. Your voice was as quiet as you could make it.

“Say that you want to date me again.”

You didn’t have to be looking at Jeonghan to know he was smiling at you.

“I want to date you,” he said, and you could hear his amusement in the heightenedness of his voice.

You kept your eyes on the ground.

“Again.”

“I want to date you.”

“… Again.”

Jeonghan pulled you a bit by your hands and ducked his head so that he was able to look at you.

“Y/n, I want to date you.”

Your face was suddenly hot. You turned your head away from him but then Jeonghan’s fingers were on your chin. He turned you to face him.

“I want to date you. I want-”

You laughed, unable to help the smile that was crossing your lips.

“Really Jeonghan,” you said, honestly trying to change the topic even though you knew there was no world in which Jeonghan let that happen. “All of this time you were sleeping with all these different people. Why do you suddenly want to date someone? Are you really ready to just… Settle for one person?”

“I settled for you the moment that I realized you would sleep with me twice,” Jeonghan replied softly. “But… I think that you know that. Don’t you?”

You let your eyes flit away from him.

“Not initially,” you denied. Jeonghan huffed out a small laugh.

“What was it you said to me… That it would be stupid to ask me to settle…?” His tone was airy, so unserious. “That even if I hadn’t asked you not to sleep with other people you wouldn’t because sex with me is just so good.”

“That is not what I said,” you protested. Jeonghan laughed.

“That’s basically what you said,” Jeonghan replied. “Look at it this way, you’re y/n.” Your words sent right back at you. You gave him a look that was honestly mostly embarrassment. “That was the day that I realized just how desperate I really was just for your attention.”

“You’re ridiculous Jeonghan,” you chided softly. “You just… The me that you think you’re in love with-”

“I haven’t said that I love you yet,” Jeonghan interrupted. Your eyes widened at his words.

“Wha-”

“I haven’t said it yet,” he repeated with a shrug. “You think I’m in love with you, hm? Do you think… Maybe you’re projecting a little? You love me and you want me to love you back?”

Your mouth gaped open but before you could think about it too much, Jeonghan was laughing.

“I’m joking,” he breathed. “I love you, y/n. I don’t think that I’m in love with you. I know I love you. The you that I think I’m in love with? It’s just you.”

“Jeonghan we hardly know each other.”

Hurt flashed in Jeonghan’s eyes and you immediately regretted your words. He didn’t let you feel bad about it for long though.

“Again, if this is too much for you…” Your eyes were screaming at him. Not too much. He sighed. “The point of dating is to get to know each other.”

“I know what the point of dating is,” you mumbled.

“Do you?” Jeonghan asked. There was a challenge in his voice. “Y/n, ever since we met we’ve been getting to know one another.”

“Are you sure that you aren’t… In love with some version of me that isn’t… Me.”

Jeonghan went silent again, and to be completely honest you didn’t think that you had ever really seen him frustrated at you. Not, outside of sex at least. But right now? He looked to be at his wits end. But… Not angry. Frustrated. Never angry.

Not at you at least.

“What do you see me as?” Jeonghan asked. Confusion flickered across your face.

“You’re Jeonghan,” you replied pointedly. It wasn’t enough for him; he arched an eyebrow your way. You sighed. “You are Jeonghan. Yoon Jeonghan. You love legos and you’re probably the most delicate frat boy in existence. You’re kind and deceivingly sensitive. You’re always gentle… And caring. You make me feel so… Loved.”

“See,” Jeonghan pressed. “We know each other. When you walked into my bedroom for the first time, then we hardly knew each other. But before you just knew me as Yoon Jeonghan the playboy. Now you know me as Yoon Jeonghan the angel of Alpha Mu.”

“I don’t even know your major,” you said bluntly, completely ignoring the angel comment.

“Don’t you want to find out?”

You two stared at each other. Silent.

“Do you still need time to think?” Jeonghan asked you. “I can give you more space. I’m sorry for drinking so much. I’m sorry if I burdened you-”

“Jeonghan,” you blurted but he ignored you. He started to pull away from you, but you grabbed more tightly onto his wrist. You tugged at him so that he was forced to stay close to you. “I want to date you.”

Jeonghan’s mouth closed.

“You’re right,” you admitted, but your voice was quiet.

“About what?”

Your fingers squeezed at his wrist.

“I was being mean to you because of Chaedom,” you mumbled. “You love me. Whatever. It’s still annoying that stupid Chaedom is all over you. And I want to date you. I do. I missed you this last week. I miss you every time I don’t come see you outside of parties. But no matter what you say or how close we get you are always going to be Yoon Jeonghan, one of the most eligible bachelors on campus.”

“And you will always be y/n,” Jeonghan insisted. “I think you’re more desired by the campus than you think.” He hummed. “But most importantly… You’re mine… Yeah?”

You swallowed hard; your eyes frustratingly focused on Jeonghan whose eyes were frustratingly focused right back on you. You nodded.

“Yeah.”

Finally, finally Jeonghan let you close the distance between you two. His hands found their way to your hips and he pulled you close to him.

“You gonna say it for me?” He asked you softly. “Need a little bit more than just a yeah.”

Heat was pooling your cheeks. Suddenly you were more embarrassed than you had ever been with him.

“I’m yours,” you whispered softly. “As long as-”

“I’m yours too,” Jeonghan promised, before you could even finish asking him. He dipped his head towards you and teasingly brushed his lips against yours. You tried to press your lips more firmly together, but he pulled away just enough to leave you unsatisfied. “I’m greedy y/n.”

You tried to focus back in on Jeonghan who was smiling at you in a very distracting manner.

“Greedy?”

“Mhm,” he hummed. “I knew that you were mine. Even though you hadn’t said it. Even though you were gone for a week. You know how?”

You shook your head.

“Because you still have those silly little hickeys,” he whispered back. You raised your hands to the back of his neck letting a frustrated expression cross your face.

“All you do is tease me,” you mumbled. “Why do you have to make me say things you already know?”

“Because I’m greedy,” Jeonghan repeated. “And I like to hear it. Your mine.”

You took that as your chance. You dragged Jeonghan’s head down by applying pressure on the back of his neck, finally firmly pressing your lips together. Jeonghan let a small laugh leave his lips but didn’t try to pull away from you.

You never got to be in control of the kisses, and so you were relishing being able to be in control of this one. Your fingers buried into Jeonghan’s hair, and you pressed him closer and closer to you. So grateful to finally be alone. So grateful to be kissing him again. So grateful to finally be done talking.

Jeonghan pulled away from you and you shamelessly let a whine leave your lips as you chased him. He laughed.

“I can’t believe that you’re the one always running from me,” Jeonghan breathed. His hands dipped under your shirt, his cool fingers pressing against your warm skin. “Because you are kissing me right now like you need me to breath.”

You blamed frustration completely and entirely and nothing else could possibly be behind what you said next.

“I fucking feel like I need you to breath.” Ew, ew, ew. “Jeonghan, it’s been a week.”

Jeonghan hummed, ignoring your obvious pleas. Ignoring the fact that your words had made you want to die a little on the inside. Jeonghan didn’t care. You didn’t understand how he always had such immense patience when it came to literally everything. His hands were roaming over your skin so lightly. His touch like a feather. He was so confident that you were just going to stand there and take it. Like he owned you.

“I do own you,” Jeonghan mumbled as if he could hear your thoughts. His head dipped into your neck, his lips ghosting across your skin. “Isn’t that what you said? Your mine?”

“I didn’t say you owned me,” you mumbled. A lie, and you both knew it was. Jeonghan hummed.

“Someone forgot about how you begged me to own you the last time I had my hands on you,” Jeonghan mumbled. “And you certainly are acting with a lot more humility than you usually do.”

His eyes drifted up to yours as his lips brushed your neck.

“Does being vulnerable really humiliate you more than degradation?”

Your face was burning and it was all the answer that Jeonghan needed. He ducked his head back into your neck, his fingers trailing up your back to toy at the latch of your bra. You knew that Jeonghan knew had to unlatch your bra. You knew he could do it with one hand much less two.

He was teasing you. He was still teasing you.

You experimentally let your hands drift down Jeonghan’s body, pressing firmly on his shirt at the bottom and pushing up. Jeonghan just hummed against you, teeth agonizingly dragging over the nape of your neck.

“Someone’s getting impatient.”

“You’re too patient,” you argued back. “You can’t touch me like this and then act surprised when I want you to take your shirt off.”

As you spoke you lost your confidence because Jeonghan’s mouth trailed down your neck, to your clavicle and then he was pushing your shirt off and you couldn’t help but get excited. You grabbed the hem of your shirt and backed away from Jeonghan, pulling the shirt over your head and tossing it to the floor.

A small laugh left his mouth and he nodded slowly.

“Well, you might as well take the rest of your clothes off,” he said, his voice low and teasing. A small frown crossed your lips. Well, a pout really.

“You’re not taking your clothes off,” you mumbled. Jeonghan crossed his arms over his chest, an eyebrow raising, and his face growing serious.

“Maybe I should reword,” Jeonghan mumbled. “If you’re going to act like a whore needing to take my shirt off when I’m trying to just enjoy time with my pretty toy than you are going to do as I ask. Take your clothes off now.”

You didn’t have to be told twice. You began to as quickly as possible undress, the cold air of the kitchen, ripping a shiver from you as you kicked your pants off. Once you were completely naked, you threw your hands behind your back, trying to hide an excited look as Jeonghan stared at you.

His expression remained serious and he remained quiet. Still not moving to undress. Still not touching you.

“Jeonghan-”

“Did I say you could talk?” Jeonghan asked. You pressed your lips together tightly, shaking your head once as your body heated up like it was on fire. Jeonghan tutted softly, raising a hand to head so that he could brush some of the strands out of his face. “On your knees y/n.”

You dropped down instantly, your body buzzing with excitement as Jeonghan started to walk towards you. Your eyes stayed on him, suddenly not feeling nervous about holding I contact with him. Once Jeonghan was within arms reach of you he stopped, unzipping his pants and working out his dick without taking them off at all.

“What’s your safe word baby?”

You were quick to answer, barely even the first syllable out before you were telling it to him. He cracked a smile.

He stepped a little closer to you, tapping the tip of his already hard cock against your bottom lip. Before you opened your mouth for him he was pushing the head of his cock into your mouth. You fell forward a little bit, your hands grabbing onto Jeonghan’s jean clad thighs for better stability.

He didn’t completely like that. One of his hands buried into your hair, tugging at you sharply.

“Did I say that you could touch me?” He asked you. You tried to shake your head, but his grip was too tight. Before you could try to even answer in a different way, he was pushing his cock even further into your mouth. “I asked you a question.”

Your eyes widened as you looked at Jeonghan, trying to shake your head again but it was useless. Jeonghan didn’t care about your efforts. Instead he focused on pushing his cock deep into your throat, not stopping until the only thing you could comfortingly look at was his pelvis.

“So bad,” Jeonghan chided lightly, his fingers loosened in your hair, but another hand found its way to your head. “Can’t even answer a single question.”

His fingers held your head in place and he slowly pulled his cock out of your mouth again. Once his tip was on your tongue he was pushing back inside of you, setting a slow pace of fucking your mouth. There should be nothing hot about a man who was just using your mouth to get off, but the little groans and moans that were tumbling from Jeonghan’s mouth were going straight to your core.

Your fingers tightened their grip on Jeonghan despite having been told off for having your hands there. You didn’t even care, and Jeonghan didn’t deem it important enough to mention right away. His pace slowly began to quicken, his hips snapping as if he was fucking your pussy. You couldn’t help the little whimpers that were leaving your cock-stuffed mouth as he began to fuck your face harder, and you knew that was just spurring him on even further.

“You look so pretty when your mouth is being fucked,” Jeonghan mumbled, his voice low and muddled with pleasure. “So nice when your mouth is so full of cock you can’t talk to me. All you can do is take my cock.”

You moaned at his words and he had to readjust his hands, giving you a couple of seconds to recatch your breath before going right back into it. His thrusts hard and fast.

“Hate it when you leave for a week,” he mumbled. “You come around telling me how much you love my dick as if you didn’t ignore me all week.”

He was going faster, and you could feel his cock twitch in your mouth and his fingers tightening their grip on your head. His voice was becoming a breathier, all evidence that he was getting closer and closer to coming down your throat.

“I would have fucked you every day this week if I could have,” Jeonghan mumbled. “And I will fuck you everyday now that your mine. There’s no excuse anymore for you to be embarrassed by how much you like me.”

Your face blazed but before he could say more Jeonghan was moaning loudly, shoving your face into his abdomen firmly as he shot hot come down your throat. Your eyes were beginning to water, small tears running down your cheeks, but you did your best take it well.

Still when he let your face go you coughed a bit of his come dribbling out of your mouth onto your chin. Jeonghan knelt in front of you, grasping your chin tightly between his fingers. His swiped his thumb across the cum and then pushed his thumb into your mouth.

“Cause that’s why you don’t come around all the time isn’t it y/n? You like me so much that you’re embarrassed about it.”

Your sucked on Jeonghan’s thumb but your eyes flitted away from him. Jeonghan pulled his thumb from your mouth and hit your cheek. You hissed in surprise (not so much pain) but Jeonghan was smiling when you looked back at him.

“That’s okay you don’t have to admit it,” he cooed. “But you’ll admit it to me one of these days.”

He soothed over the cheek that he had hit, a little pout spread over his lips, feigning pity for you and the fact that he had hit you.

“But right now I can’t expect you to be so honest huh?” His voice was so condescending and it was only turning you on more and the worst part was he knew that. His hand lowered to your cunt and only then did you realize how embarrassingly wet you were. His fingers pressed between your thighs and you instinctively spread your legs out a little bit for him, the dampness of your thighs meeting the cool air and sending a chill through your body. “Look at you, you’re already so horny that you can’t think about anything but my dick can you?”

He hummed and immediately pushed two fingers deep into you. You cried out, falling back on your hands, your mouth dropping open into a small pant as he began to fuck you hard on his fingers. There was a slight burn from the stretch but it felt so good, you couldn’t complain even if you wanted to.

“All I did was fuck your pretty little mouth and yet you’re dripping all over your floor like a bitch in heat.”

A whimper was practically ripped from your mouth, and you couldn’t help but shift your body so that your ass was on the floor just so that you had some stability. Jeonghan snickered as your back hit the ground. Your face burying into your hands as you tried to muffle yourself.

Jeonghan let out an annoyed huff and he sharply smacked your thigh.

“Why are you being so quiet now?” He asked you. “Acting like you don’t usually have an audience of twelve boys… No point in trying to save face when I’ve made you scream before.”

You whined into your hands, refusing to move them when all Jeonghan was doing was humiliating you today. Jeonghan didn’t like that, and he expressed that by shoving a third finger into you. Your back arched in pleasure and you threw your hands to the floor.

“I’m sorry,” you blurted. “It’s just- Fuck, it’s just embarrassing.”

“I’ve done worse to you,” Jeonghan commented, and he was right but that didn’t make it less embarrassing. It wasn’t even that he was fucking you really. Or… About you. Or teasing you, or that he’d fucked your face.

You still had that same residual embarrassment from the fact that you two were… Dating now…? That it was just making your heart pound that much harder.

“I wonder what I should do with you today,” Jeonghan pondered. “How many times should I make my pretty little toy come?” His thumb smashed down on your clit and it made you cry out again.

“You’re being so rough,” you whined, your fingers balling against the floor.

“Do you not like it?” He didn’t halt his pace, instead you suspected he was being even faster the sound of his fingers fucking you echoing in your apartment. You didn’t want to answer him. He knew you liked it but then his fingers smacked on your clit, hard.

“I do,” you blurted. “I fucking like it, like it so much.”

Jeonghan chuckled, and his fingers slipped from you.

“You’re being so bad today y/n,” he chided lightly. “What happened to my pretty baby who listens to me no matter what?”

He grabbed you by your hips, shifting you closer to him. He pushed himself in between your legs, settling himself there as he tapped the tip of his cock against your clit. Your thrusted up towards Jeonghan’s dick, desperate for him to slid into you, and when your bare thighs rubbed against the cloth of his sweatpants it just made you that much more desperate.

“And you’re so quiet too. Scared of your own voice, hm? You know I like it when you beg like my own little whore.”

The tip of Jeonghan’s dick dipped into you and you fought everything in your body not to fuck yourself on him. You just let another whine leave your mouth.

“Jeonghan I’m so sorry for leaving so long,” you mumbled, and as you spoke Jeonghan was slipping his cock into you. You forced your eyes shut as he wrapped his arms around your body, coming fully seated inside of you. “I’m so sorry, I need you so badly. Need you to fuck me, really really-”

Jeonghan cut you off with a hard thrust, his lips brushing against yours teasingly.

“I don’t actually want you to feel bad for leaving for a week,” Jeonghan mumbled. His teeth teased your bottom lip, and his fingers duck into your back. “Unlike you I’m patient and besides…”

Another hard thrust and you couldn’t help the scream that Jeonghan ended up swallowing into a rough kiss. He gave you another hard thrust, your body bouncing, afraid to grab him but really needing to not only for purchase but also just to be close to him.

“You’re always worth the wait.”

You must have clamped down on Jeonghan hard because as soon as you spoke Jeonghan was fucking you again, hard. He let your back hit the floor and placed his hands on either side of your head. His lips were pressed hard to yours and he wasn’t holding back in the slightest.

“Je-Jeon-“ You could barely get a word out. Your fingers twitched by your sides, trying desperately to hold onto the ground that it was literally impossible to hold on to. “I need-”

It was so hard to speak around Jeonghan’s mouth, but he let his lips pull away from yours as you tried to speak, placing his forehead to yours.

“What baby?” Fuck. His hands came up to your neck, his thumbs brushing the dip in your throat. “Something you want?”

You could tell he was trying to be teasing but it wasn’t coming off well right now because he was being so rough. His eyes were shut in concentration and he squeezed your neck lightly driving you even fucking crazier.

“Wanna touch you,” you managed to get out, your voice quiet. Jeonghan laughed.

“Is that so? Thought you were being bad today, why didn’t you just grab onto me huh?”

You let out a frustrated sound, wanting to grab him out of spite but wanting to be good like he was teasing you for even more.

“I’m good,” you managed to get out, but you sounded so pathetic and broken as you spoke, each thrust so rough that you were starting to practically sob on his cock. Jeonghan’s lips tilted down to your face, kissing at the tears that rolled down your cheeks.

“You want to prove that you’re good?” He asked, you nodded, your mouth open so that you could pant. “Why don’t you come for me? Want to feel you come on my cock again so bad… Missed it, missed you-”

He didn’t have to say more, he didn’t even have to touch your clit. A sob left your lips as pleasure whirled through your body. You couldn’t hold back if you wanted to, you desperately grabbed at Jeonghan’s biceps, squeezing at him hard to try and gain some control over your position.

Jeonghan didn’t even falter, instead he got faster, and harder.

“S-sensitive!” Was all that you managed to get out, and it just made Jeonghan hum against you.

“Is that so baby? Cause I’m nowhere near done with you.”

You whimpered, and you tightened your grip on Jeonghan.

“I’m going to make you come until you literally can’t come anymore,” Jeonghan promised. “Won’t stop until you either safe word or I’m finally satisfied. I wouldn’t blame you at all if you tapped out.”

As he spoke, you were already overcoming the slight discomfort from him fucking you through your orgasm. You shook your head desperately, knowing without even knowing how long it was going to go on for that you were not going to tap out.

Ignoring Jeonghan for a full week was such a terrible idea for you because it just meant that you needed him that much more. You felt so good with his cock stuffed inside of you, his hot breath on your cheek driving you feral. You readjusted your arms so that your fingers were threaded in the roots of Jeonghan’s hair.

You couldn’t help it, you started quietly begging Jeonghan to fuck you harder. You knew you were pulling a little at Jeonghan’s hair and normally you didn’t think he would entertain it but he didn’t seem to mind.

“You’re so slutty y/n,” he mumbled. “You submit to me so fast. So willingly. Wanted me to take my clothes off so badly but you don’t even actually care that I’m fucking you like some common whore.”

You nodded, still babbling, still nonsense and Jeonghan was eating it up.

“You’re not even making sense,” he teased, and as he spoke another orgasm was wracking through your body. Your head tilted up and your lips brushed against Jeonghan’s but he pulled away from you as you did. ��My little baby, coming on my dick from being talked down to. Like it so much don’t you? Like it when I fuck you stupid. Why don’t you try and get another straight sentence out for me?”

Your eyebrows furrowed in concentration but Jeonghan’s lack of letting up was making it hard. With each thrust his sweat pants brushed against your clit and the friction was making you pull away form Jeonghan a little as you came down from your second orgasm.

Jeonghan didn’t mind that either. His thumbs pressed down together every now and then as you hiced, making your voice come in and out, your breathing becoming just that much more desperate. He was toying with you, enjoying the way that your wish to breath increased when he pushed down on you, letting up the pressure only so that he could watch you catch your breath and then take it away from you all over again.

You could feel another orgasm building up in your core, and this time you were chasing it, your abused pussy the last thing on your mind as you rolled your hips down on Jeonghan. You wanted him to come so badly. Wanted to feel him fill you up because you had felt so empty recently, and you must have been telling him exactly that because you felt Jeonghan’s cock twitch inside of you and:

“Yeah? You want it that badly?” He had somehow managed to steady his voice but you could tell by the sudden erraticness of his thrusts that he wasn’t actually that composed. You could also feel it in the slightly bending of his pointer fingers on the back of his neck, you were making it so hard for him not to come.

“Y-Yeah.” You finally managed to consciously get something out. “Need your cum so badly, don’t you want to fill me up? I want to feel full of you.”

Jeonghan tried to hum but it came out wrecked.

“So good at begging,” he praised and it affected you just as much as it did when he was degrading you. Your back arched and you pressed your chest into his tshirt covered chest. You couldn’t help it.

“Jeonghan pl-please, I-” You were interrupted not only by the feeling of come being shot deep inside of you but by Jeonghan’s lips crashing hard onto yours. You were crying like a baby on him as another orgasm was ripped through you and it hurt but the pain was practically null to the full burning pleasure that was filling your body as he shot string after string of cum inside of you.

His thrusting began to slow down until he was agonizingly slowly dragging his cock in and out of you. He was breathing hard against your lips, no longer kissing you, but pressed against your lips regardless. When he finally came to a stop inside of you his body slumped against yours.

“You’re so good for me,” he mumbled. “So good. Always so good for me.”

You didn’t respond to him, your fingers still tugging at his hair tightly as you tried to bring your breathing back to normal. Jeonghan didn’t really care about that. He slipped his cock out of you and before even a drop of his cum could leave he was pushing two of his fingers back into you.

“Such a sloppy little pussy,” Jeonghan mumbled against your lips and you could feel the smile. “Does it feel good?”

You had to be honest, and you breathed a yes, your body buzzing as he you felt his cum slowly being pushed deep into you, then threatening to drip out before being pushed right back into you.

“Jeong-“ You were going to come again, and you knew that Jeonghan could feel it because his thumb pressed to your clit again making you cry out in pleasure.

“Your really going to come from me fucking my cum into you?” He teased, and that was all he had to say before you were coming again. Sobbing against his lips.

“C-Can’t do more,” you begged breathily, and as you spoke Jeonghan was slipping his cock back into you. Once he was fully inside of you however he stopped completely, his head dipping down into your neck. He fell quiet, his chest rising and falling gently against you.

You were afraid to talk because the feeling in your heart was a lot heavier than it should be for someone that you had just started dating. You bit down on your lip on your lip to keep yourself from speaking.

“Y/n,” Jeonghan breathed against your neck, sending a chill through your body. “Y/n, I really do love you.”

He took the words that you were afraid to say to him right out of your mouth, and as you fought to figure out what to say back to him because surely such intense feelings from you to him was due to the post-sex haze your phone started to buzz on your counter. Your eyebrows furrowed and despite Jeonghan’s protests, you wrestled your way out of his arms and picked it up.

“Oh, it’s Yeongtae,” you mumbled. You didn’t think twice before sliding the green phone across your screen and putting the phone to your face, and it made Jeonghan groan unabashedly. He wrapped his arms around your body, tugging you into his chest, but you mostly ignored him.

“Hey,” you mumbled into your phone.

“My head hurts.” You pulled your phone away from your ear suddenly. He was so loud. “And I don’t know where I am.”

Your eyebrows furrowed, and you pulled away from Jeonghan a little bit.

“You don’t know where you are?”

“Last night I went home with a girl and we got on a bus? And we were kissing, and then we got off the bus? And now I’m in a neighborhood somewhere?”

You glanced at Jeonghan, putting your hand over the speaker.

“He’s lost,” you mouthed.

“Put it on speaker phone,” he mouthed back. You frowned slightly but did what he wanted to regardless.

“Can you see anything that you recognize?” You asked him.

“Uh…”

“Have you not tried using your gps?” Jeonghan asked. Yeongtae was silent for a second.

“Jeonghan? Y/n, you actually talked to him!” Came Yeongtae’s very loud voice. “He sounds jealous.”

“Do you want our help?” You asked Yeongtae sharply. He was silent for a few moments.

“Can you two come pick me up? I think I was on the bus for like three hours.”

“Three hours?” You blurted, unable to help it. “How drunk did you get?”

“Y/n please,” Yeongtae begged in the phone. “I won’t ask you guys again.”

You sighed, but not because of Yeongtae. You looked over at Jeonghan, not having to say a word for him to understand what you were asking him silently.

“We’ll come get you,” Jeonghan relented rolling his eyes. “And it’s okay if you ask again. What are best friends for?”

You didn’t let Yeongtae think about the slightly sarcastic way that Jeonghan added the best friends part- something that Yeongtae clearly didn’t even remember saying.

“Send me your location okay? We’ll be there soon just sit tight.”

“Okay.” Honestly Yeongtae sounded tiny over the phone. “I’ll see you two soon. Thank you.”

You ended the call between you two and before you could say anything Jeonghan was groaning and he was burying himself into your neck. You sighed, raising your hand to his head.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled, honest. “It’s just-”

“It’s okay,” Jeonghan interrupted before you could say more. “I get it. You put up with Chaedom, I can put up with Yeongtae.”

He sighed, and pulled away from you a little bit.

“Besides, you’re mine right? Since we’re together it doesn’t matter if you hang out with Yeongtae or if I hang out with Chaedom.” You knew he was joking but you still sent him a glare. He laughed. “Yeongtae isn’t really that bad,” he admitted. “Weird. But he treats you well.”

Before you could ask Jeonghan if he was okay because oh my god, a nice thing about Yeongtae coming from Jeonghan’s mouth? You genuinely never thought you would see the day- Jeonghan was pulling apart from you.

“Okay, let’s get you in the shower,” he said. Your eyes widened in surprise.

“But Yeongtae-”

“He can wait,” Jeonghan pressed. “We’ve got to get you clean and then we’ll go get him.”

He fixed you with a serious look.

“But now that we’re dating? You have no excuse to avoid after care. After we get Yeongtae home you’re all mine okay? I just want to hold you.”

You pressed your lips together, just to prevent yourself from admitting how badly you wanted that. You just nodded. Jeonghan looked at you, clearly wanting you to say more but he didn’t push it. He sighed and mirrored your nod.

“You’re so good for me,” he mumbled, and the embarrassment caused warmth to crawl up your neck. “Come on.”

Part Eight (The Finale): Something He Likes

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