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astroboots · 1 year

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Stitches and Claws

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x female reader

Summary: You find yourself in a compromising position on your knees when you help stitch up Miguel's wounds.

Content: Blowjob, riding cock, overstimulation, fangs and claws. Miguel kind of likes his horniness with a little bit of pain? Just a smidge.

Word Count: 3.3k

Astroboot’s Masterlist | Spiderverse Masterlist

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"Miguel, can you please just relax?"

"I am relaxed," comes the sharp reply, as he glares down at you. Jaw so tense, you're surprised his molar teeth hasn't cracked under the pressure.

Your hand comes to his knee, as you spread them wider, and you can feel the plane of his thighs tense underneath your palm.

Yeah, the man is anything but relaxed.

Miguel is still in his suit. Skin covered in dark blue and red. The only part of him not covered in the fancy spandex (and if he heard you call it that he'd be livid, cause it's Unstable Molecule fabric, not spandex) is that scowling face of his and a small patch on the inside of his left thigh. An area the size of your hand that's bare, revealing his tanned skin underneath and a nasty looking injury.

You poise the needle in your hand against the gaping wound. You don't even get the chance to make skin contact with the tip before he's hissing at you like some damned feral cat.

"I haven't even touched you yet. This is going to hurt a hell of a lot more if you keep fighting me."

You probably sound more than a little bit irritated, because this position isn't exactly comfortable. The hardwood floor is digging into your knees, and with hindsight you should've taken the cushion he'd offered you before.

God, up close, that wound look really bad. Four inches in length, red and angry. You're not a doctor. You don't know why the hell you agreed to do this. For all you know you're going to get the wound infected or worse.

"Miggy, I don't know about this, don't you think it's better go to a hospital. What if it gets infected? You'll end up with gangrene and then we'll have to amputate it and then what?"

"That's not going to happen. It's a tiny cut."

"Fine, but I'm not a medical professional and I'm probably gonna make it scar to shit."

"So it'll scar. It'll be your permanent mark on me."

"I'm worried I'm going to mess this up".

"No", he says, shaking his head. "I trust you."

Your cheeks warm at the words, barely able to look him in the eyes after he's said it.

Fuck, he'd have to go and pull that card didn't he?

With a big sigh and bigger reluctance, you dip your head down as you pierce the needle through the skin, threading it across. There's a muffled pained noise from above. The leather of your armchair squeaks as he grips it tight.

A sympathetic ache tugs in your chest at his pain and your hand still against his thigh. "Do I need to stop?"

"No, keep going," he bites out through gritted teeth.

From the corner of your eyes, you catch a glimpse of the pointed edges of his corner teeth protruding against his bottom lip. It's hard to keep your hands still when your fingertips tingle at the sight of them.

Jesus, you need to get your head out of the gutter. This is hardly the time. You persevere, dipping back down for a better view, so you can sew up the gaping wound as best as you can, ignoring the warmth of his firm thighs that are caging you in at your sides.

You try to pretend you don't hear the strained noises he's making. (Noises that are much too similar to the ones he makes when he's the one between your thighs). Practically bury your head into his thigh so you can no longer see the way his broad chest heaves or how he bites down hard on his lip when you make another stitch.

"Stop, stop!" he demands.

His hand grips down hard on your shoulder, pressing you backwards, but you ignore it, because the needle is already halfway through his skin, and for a man who is constantly battling supervillains on skyscrapers with jetpacks and regularly crashes into skyscrapers, he can be such a baby sometimes.

"Miguel, stop, I need to--"

"Enough!" He growls, his hand pushes more insistently, determined to pry you off him until your ass lands on the hardwood floor behind you.

"Let me do it myself."

Let him? Let him?! As if you had forced him to make you do this? This asshole. Swear to god! He's the one who came home in this state, plonked his dumptruck ass in your chair and asked you to help him. He's the one who sweet-talked you with his: "I trust you," when you had soundly suggested he go to the hospital.

He's always like this. Running hot then cold. Asking you to help, then pushing you away in the next second. It's a miracle you don't have permanent neck injuries with the metaphorical whiplashes he keeps giving you.

You drag your eyes upwards, the way he's hunched on himself in your chair, covering his thigh. His face is turned to the side away from you.

You don't know why he's being so unhelpful about this.

Stitching up your superhero boyfriend with a $10 Amazon sewing kit isn't your idea of a perfect Saturday night. But now that you've started you need to finish up with the stitches, you can't just leave it as it is.

"I'm sorry that I went too rough. If I hurt you, I can go slower, okay?"

He doesn't answer you, just drags one large hand over his face. It's only then that you notice that his ears and bits of his cheeks are flushed a darker shade of red than the tanned tone of his hand.

"That's not the problem I'm having," he mutters.

"Well then, can you tell me what the problem is?"

No answer.

Leaning forward, you place your hand back on his knee. That finally seems to get his attention and he removes his hand.

"You said you trusted me right? So let me know what's wrong so I can take care of you. Please?"

For all his obstinate stubbornness, Miguel is just as susceptible as you are to that card. He groans dramatically, collapsing back into the chair with a defeated expression on his face.

His legs shift in the chair, spreading outwards. The arm draped across his lap falls away, and the tight fit of his supersuit does absolutely nothing to disguise the shape of his cock, hard and heavy under the clinging fabric.

Oh. oh.

Clearly you’re not the only one being affected by the forced proximity of this situation.

"See the problem?" he says.

You look up and his eyes flicker away sheepishly. If you didn't know better, and if it wasn't for the scowl still plastered on his face, you might've mistaken him for being embarrassed. If you didn't know better, you might've made the mistake of calling him cute.

You ache between your thighs at the sight of him. But even though there's nothing more you'd like than leap into his lap and fill that ache with every inch of him, there's other priorities right now.

Crawling forward, you shoulder your way back between his thighs and settle there.

"Let me finish," you insist. "If you let me finish, then I'll help you with your problem."

It's an uneven bargain to say the last. Because the reward you're offering him, is something you want more than your next breath, and you have to bite back the 'ohthankyousweetjesus' on the tip of your tongue, when he gives you a small nod to seal the deal.

Maybe it's your newfound incentive, but this time as you pinch the needle between your fingers to stitch him up, it's a swift and efficient ordeal. You refuse to allow yourself to get distracted, eyes focused on your goal, even as you hear him groan above or shift underneath you. Not until the last stitch is done.

When you finally let yourself tilt your head back up. His eyes are pinned on your face, and you can see now that the familiar brown shade replaced by a red tinge.

Your tongue is heavy in your mouth, and you try to keep your eyes fixed on his, holding the contact as you lean forward. Anticipation rides heavy on your spine, as your mouth inches forward, until your lip press against the thin fabric of his crotch, and you nuzzle against the rigid shape of him.

The leather of your chair creaks, and there's a rip. From this angle your view is a bit obscured, but you catch sight of his hands, the firm unforgiving grip he has on your poor armchair. The extended sharp talons piercing through the soft leather in his excitement.

All you hear from above, is a breathy, "Fuck", then the thin fabric separating him from your mouth disintegrates, the dark blue fabric making way for his tanned skin underneath.

Then he's right there. Bare and naked for you to touch. His cock jutting upright between his thighs. He's ruddy and flushed, the fat tip of him glistening with precome that wells from the slit that you can practically already taste on the tip of your tongue.

Your mouth salivates as you part your lips to take him.

To call Miguel thick is an understatement. It's a struggle to fit him in your mouth, your jaw strain with the effort as you slide him further down. As deep as you can, until the blunt tip nudges against the back of your throat and you have to swallow around him in a panicked fit to suppress the reflexive gag pushing back in you.

It's always the hardest the first time. Your mind and throat instinctively fighting you, as you try to swallow down the intimidating girth of him.

"Take it slow nena," Miguel rasps from somewhere above. His voice is a slow and melted hum that drips sweet and honeyed in your veins, and that helps.

You take a deep inhale from your nose, taking in the familiar musky scent of him, and feel your throat relax around him, accommodating to his thickness.

Your thighs ache with arousal. Panties wet and slick as you clench down around nothing. Everything is tightly wound inside you. Your stomach heavy with the dizzying heat as the weight of him rests so fucking perfectly on your tongue.

It's all you can take. You shove your fumbling fingers between your thighs, tugging at the edge of your panties until the obscene wetness greets you and drag it up against your clit.

Relief and pleasure surges through your head, filling your veins with the sensation and you rock into the palm of your hand seeking for more of your own touch.

"Are you touching yourself?"

Your fingers still at the question. You're not exactly embarrassed, it's not like you're doing anything wrong, but you feel sheepish all the same at being caught.

You pull off his cock, letting it slide between your lips and when you finally look back up, he's staring down at you with a dark hunger in those otherworldly crimson eyes like he wants to eat you whole.

"Fuck, come up here," he directs, but you ignore him. Tongue lapping at the tip, savouring the heady taste of him as you run the flatness of your tongue down the length of him.

"Nena," he bites off impatiently. "Up!"

He doesn't wait for your reply this time. So fucking impatient this man.

He's already lunging forward, arms circling your torso as he pulls you up and into his lap with an impressive ease. His arm comes to your thighs, rearranging you to his liking in his lap, one large hand gripping his cock as he positions you above.

"Sit on my cock, nena. Ride me."

Your eyes flit to the poorly stitched up wound on his thigh that looks flimsy to say the least.

"Won't that hurt you?"

His head tilts, brow arching with that sardonic expression of his as if he doesn't see what the problem is. "And?"

This is such a bad idea. But you'd be lying to yourself if you said you wanted to stop now. Instead you settle on a compromise to ensure that you can at least limit the potential damage on him.

"You have to stay still for me, or you'll tear the stitches," you warn.

He nods perfunctorily in agreement and you don't think he's even listening to you. No surprise there, Miguel has never been the best at listening to yours (or anyone's) instructions. He'll do what he wants as he sees fit.

But you can't find it in you to stop. Not when you wrap your hand around the base of his cock, and the velvety smoothness of it twitch in your grip. Not when you notch the tip of his cock to your slick entrance and can feel yourself dripping down his length.

The only thing you care about is to have him inside you.

You lower yourself onto him, sliding down, inch by maddening inch, as that thickness stretches you to your limits and white hot pleasure invades every one of your cells until you feel drunk on the sensation.

"That's it," he encourages, with a sharp inhale, hand gripping to the sides of your hips. The honed edge of his talons gripping into your flesh, but never breaking the skin.

Your thighs are shaking as you inch down on him until they are pressed flush to his hips, and his cock is kissing that perfect spot deep inside you that has your vision whiten. Thick and sweet.

As promised, he doesn't move. Even though you can tell from the muscle twitching in his jaw, that there's nothing more he wants than to flip you over and thrust into you hard and deep until you're screaming his name with a force that makes your lungs burn out.

You lift your hips, savoring the sweet drag of his cock against your cunt, slow and unhurried until only the blunt tip of him rests inside you and stay there.

"Nena," Miguel says, and the nickname on his tongue sounds like a warning.

He's not a fan of the slow pace you're giving him apparently.

But you've never been one to heed his warnings. Instead you slide down on him, just as slowly, letting his cock fill you at a leisurely pace and it is fucking heaven.

You still as he bottoms up inside you, before you do it all over again. And again. Then again. To each grumpy groan of his that's mixed with pleasure and impatience. Then you do it again.

It's only a matter of time before his short-spanned patience snap. You can practically see it in the furrowed line of his thick brows, as you raise yourself up on his knees. His sharp canines bites down on his bottom lip, breaking the skin and that is all the warning you get before his arms wraps tight around your ribs, knocking the very breath out of your lungs.

Miguel's arms pushes you down flush on his cock, it's strong and demanding. A stubborn grip until he makes sure you've taken all of him to the root. It's blinding you with the force of it, and all you can do as he buries his face, sharp teeth poised at your shoulders, is whine.

Good, it feels so fucking good. The sweet ache of his cock filling every inch of you. You can't think anymore.

You try to raise yourself again on his cock but you wobble, the muscles in your thighs screaming in protest and gives under, unable to lift yourself back up again.

Fuck, you don't know if you can move anymore.

In a split of a second, Miguel straightens up and pulls you into his chest. "So pretty, nena," he groans into your skin, while he ruts up and into you, fucking his cock deeper.

You should probably scold him. Try to stop him somehow, so that he doesn't rip the tenuous stitches on his wound. But you can't bring yourself to open your mouth. Not when it feels this good. Not when aching pleasure is pulling you down under and robbing you of your breath and every word in your vocabulary.

"You feel so fucking good. Stretched so tight around me. Just so fucking pretty when you take my cock."

The sharp edge of his fangs skirts gently across the soft flesh of your throat, and sets every nerve in you alight. Every part of you tingles. From the tip of your fingers to the curl of your toes. That telltale warmth and heat coiling in your stomach and spreads outwards ratcheting up to a fever pitch.

Your orgasm breaks. It rushes over you, hard and punishing. Your body shakes, thighs tensing and your heart is beating hard and fast into a gallop in your chest. You shake and tremble in his lap as it courses through your veins. Lungs squeezed painfully tight as the sweet bliss of it invades your ribs and you struggle to catch your breath.

You still feel it, rushing and pulsing from your stomach down your thighs, it doesn't even have a moment to properly subside.

Miguel doesn't stop. His hands are already on your waist, lifting you up and almost off his still hard cock and you gasp at the shift in pressure inside you. You're clenching down around the fat tip of him reflexively, and there's no time to adjust, no time to think, next thing you know, he lifts his hips while pushing you down on the length of his cock. All in one swift, and harsh, unforgiving motion.

It's so much, too much. You whimper at the next thrust, the whole of your body wracked in shivers as the sensation overfloods your brain. As good as if it feels, you don't know if you can't take much more.

"Keep going, don't stop. I know it's hard nena. I know you're sensitive." he coos, his hands are gentle on your hips, guiding your movements, but for all his sweet cajoling words, and for all that you're struggling he's not easing up.

"Keep going. Keep squeezing my cock like that and I'll fill you up. I'll fill you up with every drop of me."

He keeps encouraging you, as if you have any other choice but to take his demanding thrusts. As if there is anywhere for you to go with how firmly he's holding you to him.

Fuck you can't, you can't-- oh fuck, you're--

Your arms scramble to grab onto something, anything, fingers digging deep into the firm muscles underneath.

It's chaos.

He thrusts up again. Deep and demanding and your brain shortcircuits.

Sharp electricity surges through your spine and it is blinding. All you can do is hold on to him, to claw on and hold for dear life, or you're pretty sure you're gonna fall off the edge of the earth into oblivion if you lose your grip.

Distantly, you hear him hiss in your ear, feel his hips stutter up against yours, cock pulsing inside of you, but you're too far gone to piece it all together.

All you know is that you're coming again or maybe you never stopped and this is that first orgasm still wreaking havoc on your body. Maybe it'll never stop. The sensation feels like a punch to your gut, consuming and all at once. Your eyes must cross behind your head, because your vision goes dark and blank, wiped clean of thoughts. The room seems to tilt, and crash then disappear. There's no weight to your limbs, and your thighs are so numb, you're not even sure they are there anymore. Your body is not your own.

When you come to, you're still perched on his lap. You feel like wrung out and boneless, body spent and broken. His arms wrapped around your torso the only thing that's keeping you upright.

The arms of your leather chair have been scratched up to hell. Long claw marks brandishing each side.

He looks like an absolute mess. Brown curl a deranged mop on the top of his head, sheen of sweat over his tanned skin. But he looks good, messy. Looks fucking beautiful in a way that has your chest squeeze tight when you gaze at him.

Miraculously, the stitches on his thigh has held up somehow and you feel more than a little ounce of pride of your own sewing skills at the feat.

Your hands slide off of him from where they're still gripping on tight onto him and Miguel's eyes follow the motion to his biceps where your nails have broken through skin. The tiny crescent marks looks red and raw and painful.

"Shit, Miggy I'm sorry."

He blinks up at you, eyes a little bit dazed before he breaks out into a smile. He raises his arm and looks at the mark with a pleased and admiring expression one filled with pride.

"I hope it leaves a scar," he says.

Dedication & Credits:

For @thirstworldproblemss who had to listen to me figure this one out, I'm still trying to find my voice for Miguel so sorry if this is a bit clunky for you.

Also dedicated to @guruan whose artwork literally inspires me to write/think/breathe smut 24-7 like a 7-eleven store. It's always open for slut business here. This artpiece with the spread thighs definitely inspired this oneshot.

I don’t have a tag list but please follow me on astroboots-writes and turn on notifications to be notified when I post something new!

#miguel ohara smut #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #oscar isaac #miguel o'hara fanfic #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara fic #across the spiderverse #spider man 2099 #spiderverse fanfiction #miguel ohara #miguel ohara x you #marvel #spiderverse #spider man: across the spider verse

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cyberrose2001 · 10 months

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Hi hi! Your op drawings are so good?? My bby aaa drawing him (bots in gen) is so tough, I get too caught up in the details TT

Anyway, since I miss him lol I was wondering if I could request some... uh, gosh I hate this word but idk anything synonymous. Could I request pussydrunk tfp op?

Hope you're having a nice day/night btw <3

- 🍄

TFP pussydrunk!Optimus x reader

Hi hello!!I am very proud of this and it's probably up there with my list of my favourite fics I have ever written. Thank you so much for requesting and liking my silly sketches of the blorbo. I've written this as gender neutral <3

(lowkey ive been writing heaps of OP eating pussy,,, its a canon event for me i cannot intervene..... anyway its 11AM and i havent slept yet but i needed to finish hggggh *dies of horny*)

Warnings: Oral sex (reader receiving), edging, reader has a vagina.

Word count: 657

18+ ONLY! MINORS DNI

Spending time alone with you has learned to be one of Optimus' most treasured past times. But as much as it pains him, relaxing with you is a rare treat. The usual business of the base either keeps him up all night, or he genuinely has no time. However, he tries his best to make the most of it, whether he's relaxing with you, cuddling you, or with his head glued between your inner thighs.

Like right now. It was nearing two AM. Optimus has you sprawled out on your shared berth, his face pressed against your aching heat, finally finding sweet relief from his built-up arousal. It's been too fragging long since his face was buried in you. He misses it, and if Optimus had a choice, he would sacrifice everything he's worked for to keep you bare before him.

Two hours. Optimus had been lazily lapping at you for two hours now. At one point, his helm had lulled to the side to rest against your right inner thigh to not strain his neck. His glossa grows tired, and his energon roars through his hot frame.

His stamina is almost depleted compared to when he initially delved into your drenched pussy. Despite this, Optimus still has the capacity to tightly grip your hips, gently massaging them as you lie still for him. He is weary, yet he perseveres, ignoring his aching joints and pulsing spike painfully pressed against the berth because tonight is about you. He will make up for all those lonely nights you've spent in berth alone in one lengthy oral session.

It's very often that when Optimus gives you oral, his mind feels like he's been transported to a higher plane of existence, one where he has no responsibilities or obligations to lead a team, just the mind-numbing taste of you. It makes him dizzy and light-headed, similar to the buzz he gets when he has a high grade or two, but Optimus prefers revelling in you instead to get his high.

As ever patient as you are with your star-crossed lover, your hips still gently roll and shudder involuntarily against his glossa, and Optimus fucking loves it. He loves your soft cries when he sucks on your clit, and he loves when you clamp your legs around his helm when your orgasm is merely within reach. But he won't let you finish just yet, not when he's yet to relish and thoroughly drown himself in your sticky sweet.

His warm optics remain lazily trained on your face, only fluttering close when you squeeze his helm. The pressure from your thighs only heightens his hunger, a carnal desire to swallow every drop of your aphrodisiac juices.

"Mmmmm," You mewl, sweaty palms digging into the berth, "Fuck, I missed this… why don't we do this - aah - more often, baby…."

Optimus doesn't respond, and he can't because his processor is so intoxicated and aroused that he can't even form a single coherent sentence. It's quite ironic, he thinks. A mech of his nature that is so poised and articulate in his vocable is conned by his own desperate need to surrender his intake to his humans' essence.

"Mmmffh," He purrs into your heat, parting your sensitive lips with his glossa, lazily swirling around your bud before pressing a gentle kiss against it. He can't help but grind his spike into the berth below at your whimpers, servos kneading into your soft flesh, "More… Primus, I need more…."

You titter breathlessly, snaking a hand to the top of his helm to lightly press his face further into your pulsing heat, and Optimus delightfully grunts. You shiver, biting back a moan at the vibrations, "Go ahead, hun, you've got me for the rest of the night."

Optimus may need to blow a hole into the sun to prevent it from rising, since one night will never be enough to satisfy his thirst for you.

#transformers #transformers prime #transformers x reader #tfp optimus #tfp x reader #tfp optimus x reader #tfp optimus prime x reader #tfp x reader smut #valveplug #smut #cyberrosewrites

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auroreliis · 9 months

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Ughhhhh i love love love the one with Bruce protecting the reader from her brothers I've already read it like idk 5 times? Maybe 6 can you do the same thing with the other boys it reminds me of my brothers and their shenanigans and our happy days

Platonic Yandere!Bruce Wayne

Summary: Your father protects you from your brothers #2

CW: no warnings

(not edited or proofread)

You crossed you arms and furrowed your brows as you were forced to endure the constant mouse clicking and keyboard clatter.

A sigh escaped your lips as you looked around the messy room in boredom. Your brother, Tim, really wanted to spend some time with you, but he had so much work to do, so he forced you to sit on his lap instead.

It felt like you had scanned over this room at least a tousand times. He tried to clean it regularly so you would at least enter it, but it was still messy.

On the desk in front of you sat a mug filled with coffee. Right when you looked at it, he grabbed it and drank from it.

The steam which once protruded from the mug had faded away long ago.

"How can you drink cold coffee?", you were the first to break the silence.

He simply shrugged and smiled, "You get used to it."

You hummed, eyeing the mug. If you were to knock it over, perhaps you could have a reason to leave his room.

Your only worry was that he would figure you out immediately and remove the mug from your reach, so without thinking, you pretended to accidentally knock the mug onto your lap.

"Oh! Whoops...I should get changed...", you looked up at him expectantly.

The look he gave you indicated that he knew why you spilled coffee over yourself and him, but he just sighed and told you to leave.

You wasted no time exiting his room and closing his door after leaving, but you heard it open again as you were walking away.

You turned around. He was also exiting his room.

"Do you mind helping me clean up?", he asked innocently, "You did spill my coffee on me, after all." He saw the opportunity to clean with you.

Your eye twitched at that. Just when you thought you had gotten away.

"Oh...I am sooo sorry, but dad actually wanted to talk to me about something, so I will be doing that, if you don't mind?", you stuttered.

The slight frown idicated that he knew you were lying, but he had to make the most of it, so a smile returned to his face as he caught up to you and wrapped his arm around your waist.

"Sure, I also have to talk to Bruce, so let's go together", you glanced at him, very convinced that behind that grin, he was lying.

What made Tim so annoying was his perseverance. He just never gave up, did he?

He took you to the batcave, where your father was sitting at the Batcomputer, and patted you on the back, waiting for you to initiate your conversation.

"Heeeey...dad?", you waited for him to turn to you.

"Sooo....you wanted to talk to me about something, right?", you had taken a few steps towards him, in order to hide the fact that you were gesturing to Tim with your eyes.

He immediately caught on and closed the file on the computer before getting up, "Yes, I had an idea to improve your stay here, let's discuss it over some tea, alright?"

Bruce placed his hand on your shoulder as he guided you out the cave.

Tim was left there dumbfounded, before he remembered that coffee left stains.

~~~~~

"Hold still!", Damian all but shouted.

"I've been sitting here for hours!", you complained. "Just take a picture of me and use that as reference!"

Currently, Damian, your youngest brother, was using you as reference for a painting. In order to assure you would agree, he cuffed you to a chair in his room.

You looked up at him to see why he didn't reply to your protest, only to see him with furrowed eyebrows. Perhaps he was focused. Maybe he was angry. You could never really tell when it came to Damian. Seeing as he wasn't responding to your whining, you just sighed in defeat.

A knock on the door caused you to startle.

"Damian? Have you seen-", Bruce entered the room before looking at you. "Ah, there you are. Do you mind if I steal them for a moment?"

Damian mithered, "If they move now, the pose won't be the same later. I'd like to finish this painting first."

Bruce walked over to inspect the painting Damian was working on.

"It's nice, but won't that take a while? How about you take a picture of them, then the pose stays the same and they don't have to be present."

"It's not the same, besides I'd rather spend time with my actual sibling instead of a picture", Damian gave his best puppy eyes.

Bruce hummed before looking at you, who was trying their best to look sad. Apparently that wasn't working, so you'd have to change the subject.

"Dick is going back home tomorrow, right? He told me he wanted to spend time with me and Damian, perhaps we could do that?", your eyes darted between the two of them, seeking both of their approval.

"Aww! That's so sweet!", a new voice chimed in. Crap. That was Dick. When you said that, you hadn't actually intended to spend time with either of them, but now you would have to.

You laughed awkwardly as you looked to the door and saw Dick leaning on it.

"Hi", was all you could say with the way your throat was constricting.

Bruce looked at Damian questioningly. To be honest, you would rather sit in silence with Damian than talk to Dick, but the choice was not up to you anymore.

"Very well, we shall spend time with Richard. However, I will be taking your picture first, as I would like to finish this painting. I suppose it would take too long with the amount of detail I would like to add, so you may be absent this time", he explained, snapping a picture of you before uncuffing you.

You rubbed your wrists. They were all red. The handcuffs used to hurt, but you had gotten used to them by now.

"Hey, why don't you also come along?", you looked up at Bruce, who was still looking at your wrists.

If he was there, then he would have some control over the others, so you were elated when he agreed. In fact, you even grabbed his hand as you were following Dick.

You did notice the smile on his face, but you pretended to not see it, simply smiling to yourself.

How bittersweet. The man who kidnapped you protected you like a guardian angel would.

#tim drake #yandere tim drake #damian wayne #yandere damian wayne #bruce wayne #yandere bruce wayne #batfam #platonic yandere #platonic batfam #yandere batfam #dc comics #x reader

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starryknight-tarot · 11 months

Text

18+ 𝓣𝓱𝓮𝓲𝓻 𝓯𝓪𝓷𝓽𝓪𝓼𝓲𝓮𝓼 𝓪𝓫𝓸𝓾𝓽 𝔂𝓸𝓾

pile 1 -- > pile 2

pile 3 -- > pile 4 my masterlist<3 . paid readings

Hi beautiful souls!✨ I am back with my first +18 reading which means if you are younger than 18 please do not interact with this reading as it is not for you. I will be looking into your person's fantasies about you. This could be a crush, partner, future spouse, fwb, whatever you have in mind. Remember to meditate, take a deep breath and pick whatever pile calls to you the most. Make sure to take what resonates and leave what doesn't. Lastly, I would like to thank you for all your love and support on my readings. It means a lot ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა

Pile 1

Cards: Four of Cups, Page of Wands rx, Two of Wands, The Emperor, The Tower, Nine of Cups, Ace of Cups rx, The Fool rx Back of the deck: Two of Cups

Pile 1, your person has to restrain themselves from you. I am getting that your person has been crushing on your for a very long time but they feel too nervous to approach you with a love offering. I keep hearing this could be your best friend or a close friend but this may not be for everyone. But your person has A LOT of unattended feelings towards you that is getting harder and harder (wink wonk) to hold back. This person has a lot of passion towards you and really wants to rip your clothes off I keep hearing. If you let them, they would show you a good time. For some reason your person feels scared to really tell you how they feel cause they are afraid you are gonna reject them. But I feel like they may distance themselves because they can't control themselves around you. They may get an erection or wet when they are around you. They want to make sure your pleasure comes first. This person likes to give head. This person wants to be the best fuck you've ever had. I keep hearing they wanna kiss you all over your body, so this person definitely is into body worshiping. I heard they wanna show you how beautiful you are (aw). This might come through with gentle words in your ear as they wreak you. If you are into roles, your person seems like either soft dom or a service sub, making sure you're ok and they would have AMAZING aftercare. I am getting pretty vanilla vibes but it would be very passionate sex with a lot of emotion and love. I am hearing they would pour all their love for you in bed. Your person would love to see you in lingerie, especially lighter colors. They may want to fuck with the lingerie on. I am getting that your person may get jealous if anyone else were to see you like that so they would wanna keep things in the bedroom or around the house if nobody else was home, I'm hearing specially the washing machine. But they would make the room super comfortable with candles, dim lights, and rose petals on fancy occasions. Ok listen this may sound spooky but they wanna watch you sleep, I don't think in a creepy way, I think in a very loving way like would just be so happy to have you. Your person really wants to take action on this connection but they are a little too anxious and in their head to take action. You will probably be the one to move this relationship forward.

Advice Cards:

Expect good things to come to you Issues of balance are at hand You are moving beyond your old form. Congratulations! Keep the faith. Stay intentioned. Your perseverance will pay off. Take good care of yourself, especially your heart. Put your tasks and goals in order

Channeled Songs:

Pile 2 Cards: Six of Swords, Death, Five of Wands rx, Three of Pentacles rx, Knight of Cups rx, Temperance, Ace of Swords, Page of Pentacles Back of the deck: The Magician

I feel like by just making eye contact with this person, you can bring them to their knees. Your person could be your ex but I am hearing more of a past fling or maybe just an old crush of yours that you might not have seen for a while. very specific lol. This person regrets not asking you out or waiting too long to make a move. They want to make up for lost time. In the bedroom (͠≖ ͜ʖ͠≖). They have a lot of confidence that they can make you feel really good. They wanna make you orgasm multiple times. If they have a dick, they have a big dick or like the perfect dick for you. If not I am hearing they may have large labia or a big strap on. This person wants to try every position with you but I am getting that they prefer cowgirl and doggy cause they wanna see your body. Your whole body is a huge turn on for them. Your person wants to whisper things like "Nobody else can make you feel this good" and "You're all mine". Very possessive energy but I'm not getting in a toxic way. They may be a little jealous of someone around you Pile 2. Your person wants to try all the toys with you. They imagine coming home with a bag of toys and trying all of them to see which ones make you feel the best. I also heard they are into punishments, they really like handcuffs specifically. But I think they also really like to give you praise when you do good, I am hearing "You are doing so well baby". I feel like you may think this person sleeps around and has a lot of experience but they either have a lot less than you have imagined or are a virgin. I feel like we are getting pretty dominant energy but I think this person is more of a switch and would love for you to take control of them. I heard mark them all over their body to show people they belong to you. They would love that so much. Your person has very kinky energy but they may also like sex passionate, slow and sensual. A lot of eye contact and hand holding. Your person may not like to have a one night stand or a friends with benefits relationship. I am getting that they would only make these moves if you were together. This pile seems to be the most fun and less serious when it comes to sex.

Advice Cards: You need to make the first move It is important to ask for help This challenge is intended to promote your growth Deep, deep down, something needs attention Seek to understand from a place of connection rather than separation Have a closer look at your family situation

Channeled Songs:

Pile 3 Cards: Two of Wands, Two of Swords rx, Justice rx, Seven of Swords rx, Knight of Pentacles rx, The Hermit, Ten of Pentacles, Ace of Pentacles, The Emperor Back of the deck: Three of Wands

Your person has a lot of emotions for you Pile 3. I am getting this could be someone you had a falling out with or had a big fight with. Although I am getting that this fight will end almost as quickly as it started. But your person wants to keep up the energy. This fight has got your person all hot and bothered and now they wanna let it out. They are very into makeup sex, they may feel like makeup sex is slightly better than regular sex. I am hearing "I won't leave a single part of your body untouched" and "You won't be able to move when I am done with you". All piles have been pretty dominate but I think your person has been the most dominate out of all the piles. Your person wants to go all night Pile 3. They want the neighbours to know who you belong to. They like to have very rough sex, multiple rounds. They wanna grab you everywhere. Your person like foreplay a lot less than the act itself. Your person is really into receiving head, pulling your hair while they contain moans but fail. I am getting your person is very vocal in bed. Your person may like both of you getting off by yourself while they tell you want to do. This could be a long distance relationship. For some of you they may like to watch as you get fucked by someone else, telling both of you want to do. Your person may like to choke you (safely) while they ruin you. They want to claim you, they may have a breeding kink. They imagine coming inside of you and making you hold it inside while you go out. "If you can hold it all, you will reward you when we get home". If you are a woman, they want to see you pregnant. That really turns them on. I feel like they would be really rough and aggressive in bed but if you use a safe word or show any discomfort, they will turn dom mode off and immediately take care of you. Consent and safe sex are really important to them. I am hearing that sex with them is something to gossip about. That would really fuel their ego. I feel like people may not expect that from them. They make look skinny or weak but is actually super muscular. They could also be shorter in height. I feel like your person's dirty secret is that they want you to overpower them and degrade them. Advice Cards:

Keep your faith. Stay intentioned. Your perseverance will pay off You are intuitively gifted. Trust your guidance You have more power than you think Align body, mind, and spirit. Know that you are whole You are divinely protected. Remind yourself how safe you are Make your presence felt

Channeled Songs:

Pile 4 Cards: Queen of Pentacles rx, Seven of Cups, Four of Swords, Four of Wands rx, The Hierophant, Four of Cups, Three of Wands Back of the deck: King of Cups

I think you were your person's sexual awakening Pile 4. They also could have been raised in a very religious household that looked down on sex and discouraged them to learn about anything sexual. Before they met you, they may have thought they were asexual or that they won't be able to find anyone but as soon as they found you something awaken in them. They were flooded with millions of emotions. You are the first person that ever made them feel these kinds of feelings. Now they want to catch up on what they missed with you. They want to try everything with you and see what makes both of you feel the best. Your person may want you to guide them through sex and teach them how to please you. Sex to your person seems very sacred and special, only with someone they completely trust and feel a connection with. I feel like your person would be into tantric sex, connecting with you on a spiritual level. I am hearing for some of you this person is your soulmate or twin flame. Your person imagines you screaming their name as they please you. It turns them on so much when you praise them and tell them that they are doing good. I really feel like your person wants to be dominate and please you but always end up crumbling under your touch. I am getting that you could easily make your person cum in their pants with just a few touches. They imagine you teasing them for how flustered they get and punishing them. They want to go all night, no breaks, they can't get enough. They have missed out on this for so long they want to make up for it. Your person may be really shy normally but is a total freak in bed. They are begging and pleading for you to touch them but you refuse them to mess with them. But when you finally give in, it's so passionate and hot oof. Your person wants to pour their heart out for you. It's always the quiet ones I heard lol. I also just heard step on me. I am seeing they want you to wear all leather and spank them. My goodness lol. They also imagine pleasing you while you sleep and waking you up with sex (consensually ofc). Your person craves your attention and touch.

Advice Cards:

Something you've planted is coming to harvest. Results are forthcoming! Be aware of your inner messages It is time to unclutter your body, mind, and spirit The issue at hand is about reflection. What is the mirror showing you? Relax and feel good. You deserve more joy! It is time to take appropriate action

Channeled Songs:

Thanks for tuning in₊‧.°.⋆🫧•˚₊‧⋆.

#tarot reading #pac reading #tarot #pick a pile #pick a card reading #pick a photo #pick a card #18+ tarot #18+ tarot reading #love tarot reading #love reading #Spotify

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luveline · 1 year

Note

hiii!!! how are you!!! i love your steve so much and i was hoping that you could write something with steve noticing every single detail about shy!reader, maybe like how when shes feeling nervous and anxious she ties her hair back in a really tight ponytail that makes her scalp hurt (in a way that kinds of keep her grounded, she thinks) and steve notices it and helps her get rid of it.

i know that it's weird but it's a thing i do when i have exams or im going to social places i feel really strechy being in... idkkk tysmmm

thank you for your request! i hope this is OK!! steve takes care of shy!fem!reader (reader has hair that can be put in a bobble)

"Hello," Steve says, in a sort of sing-song.

You still jump, not expecting him near and highly strung to begin with. "Oh," you say, relieved that it's your lovely boyfriend and not an axe murderer, "hi, Steve."

"Hi." He's dressed much too casual for himself, in a t-shirt rather than a signature polo, his hair raked away from his face. He sits beside you on your sun lounger and nudges you with his elbow. "These chairs are, like, specifically designed for relaxing. You're supposed to relax when you sit on them."

"I am relaxing."

"You're not."

You sit back. Your ponytail pulls and you wince but don't move off of your hair. Your hands tingle, so you slide them between your thighs and clamp down. He turns inward, his knee under your thighs where you've pulled them up. There's not enough room on the lounger for two people, but you and Steve make it work.

"Is everything okay?" he asks.

"Yeah." You nod stiffly. "Of course."

Steve smiles, his eyes on your knees. He puts his hands on your legs and it doesn't matter where they are so much as how they move, rubbing gentle lines up and down the slopes of them as he leans down to rest his cheek against your knee. One hand roves all the way down to the top of your thigh, his fingers pressing into the soft part of your stomach, and he flicks his knuckles against you. "Hold my hand?" he asks gently.

You offer both hands. He raises his eyebrows and murmurs about being spoiled as he takes them.

You feel better the longer he holds them. His thumbs rub against the backs, and his head turns into your skin, kisses laid into your bare knees sweet and dainty with the barest of pressures.

"I know when you're not feeling good, you know that?"

"How?" you ask quietly, not wanting to disturb the slice of peace he's made for you.

"You put your hair up too tight. And you get tense. So hard it definitely makes your back hurt."

You take a big breath and try to relax. Hurting yourself only hurts him. Steve squeezes your hands as you do, and takes a deep breath with you. His slow exhale is cold against your legs. He's sun-kissed and especially handsome like this, his face calm.

"Come here," he says, when you've lost the rigidness from your spine, and your head isn't pounding as hard. "Let me take it out."

You sit up. Steve does the same. His arms come around you like the beginnings of a hug, and his hand reaches for the back of your head where you've triple tied a bobble, strangling your hair to the point of hairpin tension. He frowns as he pulls it out, as careful as he can to make it painless. It tugs until it doesn't, and your hair falls against your shoulders.

"I'll have a bump in my hair, a line," you say.

His fingers weave into it gently. "Who cares? This'll feel really good."

Steve's fingertips massage your scalp as he brushes out your hair. You shiver at the feeling, your cheek pressed to your shoulder the longer it goes on. Steve only laughs under his breath and perseveres, nothing but love in his touch.

"There," he murmurs. "Doesn't that feel better?"

His hands rake down the length of your hair, and he brings one to your warm cheek.

You close your eyes, leaning your weight into his palm. "Yeah, Stevie. Much better."

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington drabble #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington scenario #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #stranger things #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x y/n #shy friday

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chelseeebe · 1 year

Text

fatefully.

summary: your roommate is incessant in setting you up with his friend. when things get tough, can he persevere through your anything-but-normal life?

i acc liked this and then the more i kept writing, the more i started to h8 it but i hope that you can appreciate some eddie fluff hehe. i have had the worst eddie brain rot recently idk what’s goin awnnn i acc rlly want to do a p2 w some angst (obviously) but i don’t know.. potentially.

modern!eddie au

smut(18+), mentions of hospitals and sick brother ! erm alcohol n weed usage 2 no use of y/n!

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ❤︎ ❤︎ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

you were losing the will to live. the continuous banging had been going on for what seemed like hours. the pillow doing nothing to muffle the sound either.

the roommate situation with steve had been going well so far. he kept to himself, kept his shit clean and seemed to be an incredibly polite guy from what you saw of him. not that that was very often.

trying to balance an internship and a supposed to be part-time but was something more like full-time bar job meant that you rarely crossed paths. mostly coming home in the early hours and crashing before you had to be up again in a number of hours to do it all again.

either way, it all seemed well and good until tonight. he'd bought some girl over before you got back. you could hear the giggles through the door the second you walked in. rolling your eyes and hoping that they'd at least shut up when they heard you were home.

nada.

you could hear every second of their session and the subsequent pillow talk that followed. making out that her name was georgia and she had an incredibly high-pitched, whiny voice that made your teeth clench.

though, you must've dozed off at some point, waking to the god-awful sound of your alarm. ready for another twelve hour long day on four hours of sleep. oh goody.

when you finally get home after what felt like the longest day ever, steve’s still awake, slumped on the couch watching some intense movie. he was alone, no georgia in sight. so you thank the high heavens that you might actually sleep tonight.

‘hey,’ smiling politely as he pauses the tv, sitting up properly.

‘what’re you still doing up?’ you ask, he’d normally be asleep, or at least in bed at this time, most people were.

‘ah, i got way too into this movie,’ he chuckles, ‘you always get back this late? you must be exhausted.’

you hang your bag on the hook, shimmying out of your jacket and placing it on top. spending far too much time focussing on making it sit perfectly, rather than having to look him in the eye after everything you’d heard last night.

‘i am.. especially after last night,’ rolling your eyes at the wall.

‘yeah.. shit, sorry ‘bout that,’ he adds sheepishly and you can hear the couch shift as he stands up.

you shrug, spinning around at last, having spent an awkward amount of time fiddling with your jacket, ‘your friend not staying tonight?’ wiggling your brows at him.

‘nah.. it’s not like that.. y’know.. she is just a friend,’ flashing you an awkward smile from across the room.

‘hmm you seem pretty friendly for just friends,’ walking into the small kitchen and opening the fridge. steve’s shelf fully stocked with a shit ton of organic food while your shelf laid empty.

he follows, lingering a few steps behind, ‘she is! what? you don’t have friends like that?’

‘friends that i have extremely loud sex with? no, no i don’t,’ you didn’t really have friends full stop. not since moving to the city at least.

closing the depressing fridge and sighing, adding grocery shopping to your already miles long to-do list.

‘whaat? c’mon that’s like the best part of your twenties.. wait, you have.. haven’t you?’ he asks cautiously, leaning against the doorway.

you scoff, now slightly offended at what he was implying, ‘are you asking if i’m a virgin?’

‘no! well- kinda,’ he holds his hands up in innocence, ‘i just.. you don’t y’know, go out a lot.. i’m just digging myself a hole here,’ shaking his head as the words keep tumbling out.

‘no, i am not a virgin.. if you must know, i just don’t have any time to waste on finding moderately attractive guys to have disappointing sex with.. so i don’t,’ trying to formulate how you can escape from this awkward conversation so you can crawl into bed and die.

he ponders for a second, pushing himself off of the frame and blocking your exit plan, ‘don’t shoot me down straight away, okay?’

you roll your eyes, the clock on the wall indicating that you’d have to be awake in seven hours time and with whatever nonsense was about to come out of his mouth, who knew when you’d actually get to bed?

‘what?’

he nods to himself, a smile creeping onto his face, ‘i think you should meet my friend, he’s the perfect person to bring a bit of fun to your life..’ he can see the stern look on your face, ‘no, seriously.. i think you should meet him.’

you try to hide the annoyance on your face, ‘no,’ his face falls at your immediate dismissal, ‘i mean, i don’t have the time.. in fact, i need to go to bed now..’ taking a few steps towards him, hoping the low light would hide your flushed cheeks.

humiliating that he not only saw you as some pathetic virgin but that he needed to actively help you make some friends.

‘please,’ standing still in the doorway, ‘meet him, i’m sure he’d be very happy to meet you.. i know,’ face lighting up, you could almost see the lightbulb going off in his head, ‘i’ll have some friends over and it can be like.. completely natural and casual, yeah?’

no i don’t want to fucking meet your strange friend. i want you to stop pitying me like i’m some lonely child that desperately needs friends. how about that?

you don’t say it, obviously. instead shaking your head and attempting to slip past the small gap between his body and the door. his arm extends to fill the space, completely blocking you in.

you huff, frustrated with his stupid games, ‘i have work,’ the only rebuttal you knew he couldn’t argue against.

‘when?’

‘..all the time,’ you look up at him, his chestnut eyes already boring into yours, it knocks you sick just how beautiful they were.

‘that’s a lie,’ raising his eyebrows.

‘it’s not,’ it was. but hell, you’d pick up an extra shift if it meant you wouldn’t be forced to socialise with his friends and especially not whoever the hell this mystery man was.

‘c’mon.. you deserve to have fun, you work so much.. call in sick.’

see, steve had the privilege of not having to work for survival. he’d been handed a cushy job at his dad’s law firm the second he’d turned 21. never had to worry about bills or rent or getting fired. one day he’d be the one running the company and he could sit back and watch the money roll in while he did nothing.

lucky him.

‘steve, i really can’t.. maybe another week,’ it was like talking to a child, empty promises to get him to relent.

he frowns, arms crossed over his chest which gave you just enough room to get past him and speed walk to your room.

‘you’re boring,’ he calls after you, sighing when your door shuts.

breathing a sigh of relief knowing that you could now avoid that awful conversation for at least another week.

you hadn’t thought anything about the quiet music from the hallway, assuming maybe ms. georgia was over again and he’d finally learnt just how much other people could hear.

so when you open the door and god knows how many people are milling around in your living room you want to strangle steve fucking harrington and his conniving little face.

he grins when he notices you walk in, coming over to the door with a red cup full of something. you mouth a bunch of obscenities, hoping only he could see.

‘you left your schedule on the counter.. you’re a liar,’ smirking as his plan had worked perfectly.

there aren’t even any words to describe how pissed off you are, ‘you’re an asshole,’ you hush, slinging your jacket on the hook rather aggressively.

his friends all eye you, trying not to listen to your angry whispers. you wonder which one he was trying to set you up with. already dying thinking of the awkward conversation that was inevitably coming.

‘c’mon live a little..’ he nudges your arm, spinning you to face the group and you want to die. hoping that somehow the earth would open up and swallow you whole.

‘i’ll introduce you,’ he smiles, leading you over to the group with his hand firmly on your arm, making sure you couldn’t slip away.

if you hadn’t wanted to die before. you definitely did now.

his friends all seemed lovely, muttering about how much they’d heard about you and other fake pleasantries. you’d apologised for looking like the way you did.. gritting your teeth that this was all very much a surprise for you.

georgia’s here again, perched on the end of the couch, sipping on her drink. separated from the rest of the group. she’s nice enough, smiling as he introduces you properly. a little bashful as she’s well aware you were in the apartment the other night.

he gets round everyone and you can’t figure out who he was so desperate for you to meet. either they were in relationships with each other or just completely not the fun loving guy he’d been so incessant about.

you don’t bring it up, hoping maybe he couldn’t make it and you’d only have to sit there and politely chatter with these strangers and not have to try and graciously let some guy down. that you could deal with.

‘i’m gonna get changed,’ you nod, pulling away from steve who flashes you a look, a warning not to just disappear into your room which you’d highly considered.

you do prolong getting changed, sitting on the end of your bed with your blouse unbuttoned, contemplating whether barricading yourself in your room was viable. dealing with an annoyed steve would be ten times better than the night you would have.

a knock on your door throws you out do your self-pitying session, jumping up and rushing over to answer the door before steve could barge his way in.

‘i’m literally nearl-,’ you stop, interrupted by a face that did not belong to steve, a pair of kind brown eyes staring back at you, obviously not really sure what he was expecting on the other side of the door.

‘uhh.. the bathroom’s down the hall,’ pointing to closed wooden door, hoping he’d just been mistaken.

‘oh,’ the stranger smiles, ‘no.. steve told me to tell you to hurry up,’ he shrugs, ‘i don’t know, i just got here,’ relinquishing himself from any blame.

'right, tell him i'm nearly ready and that he's an asshole,' going to close the door on him before his boot catches it, keeping it open.

'i'm eddie.. by the way,' sticking his hand out through the gap for you to shake. which you do gingerly, catching sight of your white work shirt which you'd rather embarrassingly remembered was half unbuttoned.

your hand flies up to cover your exposed chest, 'oh my god, i'm so sorry,' cheeks flushing a deep scarlet. he'd done a great job of not staring down your shirt at least.

he laughs airily, watching as you shrivel up in pure embarrassment, 'i'll let you get dressed,' he announces, sauntering off to the living room with a shit eating grin on his face.

you manage to cool your face down and get changed. by process of elimination you could guess that eddie was most likely the guy steve was so enthusiastic about you meeting and now you'd have to sit there for hours trying to be polite after he had definitely just seen your tits.

coming into the living room, it's clear that steve's conspired with everyone and made them shuffle, leaving the only free seat the one next to eddie on the smaller couch. he was smart, you'd give him that. even if you did want to wring his neck as he smirked at your from the other couch.

you don't even want to look poor eddie in the eyes, still utterly ashamed about him seeing you half naked. fortunately, he breaks the awkward tension first, offering you a drink and a small, reassuring smile.

steve's friends are all lovely, making you feel slightly guilty for how cold you'd been when you'd walked in. they'd all been well aware that this was one of steve's tricks. even eddie which made everything so much worse. knowing that they'd all been brought here in an attempt to force you two together.

they get into a heated conversation about something you don't understand, leaving you to find solace in the lukewarm drink in your hand. steve and georgia take themselves off into the kitchen and there's a collective groan and a shared look.

'what?' you ask, watching as their faces speak a thousand confusing emotions.

one girl rolls her eyes, leaning in to speak in hushed tones, 'how long has she been back around?'

'uh.. i don't know, she was over thursday?' still confused at their sudden change in attitude.

'hmm,' she nods, giving the brown haired girl a look you can't pick up on, 'annoying as fuck, right?' she snickers, glancing over to make sure they were still in the kitchen.

well, yeah. but you weren't going to outright state that you were annoyed. it wasn't really any of your business. so you just shrug in response, a smile creeping onto your lips when she laughs loudly.

'you won't have to deal with it for long,' the girl, robin her name is, laughs, leaning back in the armchair to watch the pair in the kitchen, seemingly innocently bickering about something.

'oh?'

she turns to give you her full attention, 'they do this every few months or so.. she'll tell him to fuck off, so he does.. and then a few months later she'll crawl out of the woodwork and want to be friends again,' she rolls her eyes, 'we don't like her.'

that'd explain why you'd never seen her before. it was finally his turn in the rotation.

'right.. seems pretty complicated, why would you be friends with someone like that?'

'oh babe, no one knows.. just gotta let him do his thing, it never lasts long,' she laughs, nudging your knee with hers as they walk back over, jumping back into her seat with her eyebrows raised.

everyone had sorta gone off into their own little pockets of conversation, leaving you and eddie to chat between yourselves. it was slightly uncomfortable at first, through no fault of his. the thought of you flashing him still playing heavily in your mind.

'it's awkward, isn't it?' he leans in, looking at his circle of friends, none of them paying you any mind.

his straightforward nature strangely putting you at ease, 'a little.. at least you knew what you were walking into, i had no idea you'd all be here,' finding some hilarity in the half-assed blind date steve had tried to set up.

'he's a prick,' eddie laughs, swigging on his beer, 'it's funnier if you play into it, make him think he's winning,' tapping his finger on the side of his head.

'well, how d'we do that?' asking curiously, wanting nothing more than to antagonise steve.

'mm, follow me,' clearing his throat as he stands from the sofa, holding his hand out for you to take, narrowing your eyes at him but obliging. his fingers are calloused as they encase your hand, but it's almost comforting. he felt real.

he doesn't say a word as he walks through the living room, their eyes all following as he guides you over to your bedroom without so much of a look back. the silence is deafening as their conversations quieten, all trying to eavesdrop, figuring out what the hell just happened.

once the door is shut, he holds his finger over his mouth, listening out for the sound of voices again knowing they'd be doing the exact same thing on the other side. you can pick up on steve's voice faintly starting up again over the music and he nods, that same shit-eating smile on his face from earlier.

'now what?' staring at him in amusement, now unknowingly trapped in your bedroom for the foreseeable.

he shrugs, taking a seat on your bed, gazing around the room, 'now we wait.. you got anything to drink in here?'

you ponder for a moment, 'no.. d'you smoke weed?'

his eyes light up at the very question, grinning from ear to ear.

you're mid wheeze when someone bangs on the door, laid back on your bed, eddie sprawled out on the other side laughing maniacally at the shitty impression of steve you'd attempted.

'come in,' you call out, trying to catch your breath and stop laughing, though his face was only making you giggle more.

the door swings open to reveal robin stood on the other side, peeking through her fingers, 'oh,' she looks baffled, not expecting such innocence, 'what're you doing?'

eddie runs a hand over his face, trying his hardest not to start laughing again, 'smoking.. you want in?' offering what must have been the third spliff to her.

'i'm good.. we're going out, jon's got some underground club he desperately wants to go to.. you coming?' her face still very much not understanding what you two were giggling about.

you shake your head, 'nah.. i'm okay,' smiling up at her, hair fanned out around your head.

eddie looks over to you before answering, 'i'm gonna stay here,' slotting the joint into your lazily spread fingers.

your heart beats faster when his fingers brush against yours, though, that was a hard feat with how much the weed was slowing down every other part of you.

'alright well, goodnight losers,' robin calls out, closing the door behind her.

you only need to look at eddie and you're roaring with laughter again, clutching your stomach, holding the spliff in the air so to not get ash all over your bed.

you hadn't imagined your night ending like this but you were pretty glad it did.

a muffled argument pulls you from your sleep. pulling your face from the comfort of eddie's back, you must've rolled over in your sleep and decided to cling onto him. it doesn't feel as weird as it probably should have, in fact, it was pretty comforting. he groans and you can feel the vibration in your cheek.

'what the fuck?' you mumble sleepily, hazy with sleep and honestly probably still slightly high.

you don't even remember falling asleep, but you must've pulled your jeans off at some point in the night, your bare legs strikingly obvious as you sit up slightly, trying to listen to the bickering. you can't really make out any words, just a lot of angry, hushed tones.

'this happens everytime,' turning over to face you, curling one arm beneath the pillow.

'what does?'

'those two arguing, every single time,' rolling his eyes, 'watch this,' he bangs his fist against the wall a couple times, making the row to silence. he grins into the pillow, closing his eyes again as he'd won the who can be louder war.

you put your head back down onto the pillow, smiling at his smug, sleepy face, 'thank you,' you say quietly, watching as one eye peaks open, just staring at each other in your darkened room, small rays of sun beginning to peek through.

it's a few small minutes, gazing, sleepily at one another before the feud begins again.

'fuck me,' eddie moans, bursting into laughter as he extends his arm, pulling the blanket over your heads, stifling at least some of the irritating sounds from the other room, giggling as you both drop off back to sleep.

when you wake up again, at a more appropriate time of the morning, your bed is empty. you’re not sure why you’re disappointed but your heart drops slightly when you turn to the empty mattress.

until something crinkles beneath your body, fishing out the small piece of paper from under your arm.

had to go 2 work, didn’t want 2 wake u

text me (476) 781-7759

scrawled on the page messily, brushing the tiniest hint of a smile on your face as you roll out of bed, swearing to yourself to at least leave it a few hours before texting.

eddie’s not the best texter but he makes damn sure to respond to you. even though it is just mostly silly, irrelevant texts about what you were doing. being sent occasional pictures of cars or whatever it was he was working on. the conversation lasts all weekend, concealing your phone from steve’s curious eyes.

once monday hits, your texts become less frequent and you feel slightly guilty. especially when he’d double text, thinking maybe you hadn’t received the first one.

it was sweet really, which only made you feel worse for not getting back to him in a normal time frame. a rare moment of peace meant you could finally catch up on his tirade of texts and sling back a lazy reply before getting back to editing some of the worst articles you’d ever seen.

what r u doing on saturday?

another text pinged through, following the last one from about an hour ago.

I’ve got work :(

where do u work?

firing back almost immediately after your response. you scan the office before replying, making sure no one was watching.

In Simmon’s😖

ohh okay

you lock your phone, promising to respond properly on your break. slightly stumped by his short reply.

you’re on autopilot, dashing up and down the length of the bar, faking a smile at the slimy old men ogling you from the other side.

so much so that you don’t notice who exactly is stood at the register.

‘what can i get for you?’ tapping at the screen to send another order through before giving the customer your full attention.

he doesn’t respond, pulling your eyes from the screen, the familiar chestnut eyes staring back, slightly widened as your customer service voice was in full swing.

‘oh my god, what are you doing here?’ immediately switching off, repressing the growing grin.

‘i thought i’d see if you wanted a ride home? i was just passing,’ eddie chuckles, eyeing your beer stained uniform.

‘oh.. yeah,’ smiling fully now, ‘i don’t finish ‘til twelve though,’ you’re sure he had better things to do on a saturday night than sit in the rundown bar waiting for you to finish.

‘it’s okay, i’ll wait,’ he nods, sliding into the empty bar stool, ‘i’ll take a drink though.. if you’re offering,’ smirking over the bar.

you feel giddy, having to excuse yourself for a moment while you recollect in the kitchen. waiting for the butterflies to subdue but they never do.

the engine idles as you sit outside of your apartment building, neither of you wanting to be the one to say goodbye first.

‘d’ya wanna come in?’ you proposition, steve’s car wasn’t in his usual spot so you knew you’d at least be away from his prying questions.

‘do you want me to?’ you hadn’t sounded entirely confident in your question, it had been a while since you’d done this, okay? it’s valid.

‘i wouldn’t have asked if i didn’t,’ smiling as you try to hold your nerve.

‘okay,’ he laughs, turning the engine off.

he follows you into the building, holding the door and letting you enter first. desperately struggling to not swoon at the very basic level of chivalry. walking into your dark apartment with eddie at your heal, eternally grateful that steve wasn’t home.

slinging your bag onto the floor, keys rattling as they land in the shared fruit bowl turned key-bowl. sidling into the kitchen knowing that you still had not gone grocery shopping.

‘have you eaten? i’m starving.. i can cook.. uh,’ leering into the barren cupboard, ‘..noodles,’ wincing at severe lack of food.

‘sounds good to me,’ he slides onto one of the tall chairs, watching as you grab a saucepan. he couldn’t believe that you were offering to cook for him even after your long day.

the door slams shut, jolting your attention from the stove as steve walks in, grumpy and feeling sorry for himself, his navy bag slung over his shoulder. he comes trundling into the kitchen, questioning if he was actually seeing this.

‘whoa-ho-ho, what’s going on here?’ nudging eddie with his elbow, shit-eating grin plastered on his face.

‘i’m cooking, genius,’ stirring the pot of simmering noodles, choosing to ignore his implication.

‘wha- you don’t cook for me,’ jutting his bottom lip out, leaning across the kitchen counter.

‘you don’t pick me up from work.. so no.’

‘oh, so it’s like that now, is it?’ wiggling his eyebrows, elbowing eddie once again.

you roll your eyes, pretending that you didn’t hear the teasing tone in his voice.

‘where are you going?’ eddie asks, eyeing steve’s large duffel bag that now sat on the kitchen floor.

he lets out the biggest groan, slapping his hand on eddie’s shoulder, ‘i was going to george’s but.. well, that’s done,’ expelling all of the breath in his lungs in the most over dramatic sigh.

‘again?’

steve gives him a look, ‘yes again.. i’ll tell you all about it in the morning,’ he sounds deflated, like an old balloon, ‘i’m going to bed, enjoy your shitty noodles, don’t do anything i wouldn’t do.’

you glare at him as he backs out of the room, threatening to throw the wooden spoon at his head.

eventually flopping down onto the sofa with eddie, the pathetic bowl of noodles in your lap, ‘sorry.. it’s kinda shit,’ prodding your fork into the pitiful meal.

‘noodles are actually my favourite food,’ smiling as he digs in.

you appreciate it, even if it was total bullshit.

‘how was your day?’ he asks, eyebrows quirking up as you exhale rather dramatically, ‘not great then?’

you chuckle quietly, ‘not really..’ shrugging, ‘both of my bosses are assholes, i hate my job- jobs, and i have this.. fucking column to write if i want a permanent one.. there’s fifteen of us all going for the same position,’ covering your mouth as you’re well aware it’s probably highly unattractive to babble on with noodles in your mouth.

‘well shit.. i mean, if you wanna rant, i can listen and offer shitty advice,’ a short, breathy laugh leaving his mouth.

so you do. you tell him everything, rambling on about your dickhead boss and how you’d expect a much better wage for slaving over a bunch of established journalists, practically doing their jobs for them. going on about being forced to pick up another job or go back home. he listens intently, placing your empty bowls on the coffee table gently.

‘and then my mom..’ you stop yourself, having already dominated the entire conversation, ‘sorry, ive just made you listen to all that..’

‘no, carry on,’ nodding encouragingly, it felt so good to just have someone so interested in what you were saying, even if it was just ranting.

you look at him, genuine interest in his eyes, sighing before you continue, ‘it’s just, since i’ve moved out.. she seems to think i’m earning a shit load more than i am.. she needs the help so i just send it, but it’s just.. frustrating,’ frowning slightly, fiddling with the hole in your tights, ‘sorry.. too much,’ grimacing as you’d just laid bare your problems to an unsuspecting eddie.

he sits for a moment before beginning, ‘do you ever do anything for yourself?’

‘huh?’

‘what do you do that’s just for you?’ watching intently as you shuffle awkwardly.

you shrug, not really able to think of anything, ‘..i don’t know,’ it wasn’t a lie, but it felt awful to say.

‘i think, and this is just my opinion so ignore it if you want.. but i think you should stop living for other people, and start doing things for you,’ he shrugs, ‘like i said, that’s just my opinion.’

you ponder for a second, your idea of a fun time is getting to go to bed before midnight. sometimes you’d indulge in a little marijuana if it was a particularly bad day or had any spare money at the end of the week. that was about it. you didn’t really have time for all of the things he and steve would do for fun, pretentious clubs and the like. hell, you didn’t have the money for that shit.

‘i don’t think i know how.. i’ve helped my mom since my dad left.. and it’s not like i can just stop working or get a new job, like.. i have to or i’ll be homeless,’ chuckling slightly though the words just sounded depressing coming from your mouth.

‘it doesn’t mean you have to stop doing those things.. just.. do something for you too,’ lips curling into a small smile, it was genuine advice and you appreciated it but you weren’t sure your idea of enjoying yourself was the same as his.

‘okay.. how? tell me how to have fun,’ turning to face him properly, legs pulled under yourself, watching as he thinks for a second.

‘i could show you,’ his smile slowly turning into a soft smirk and you’re sure you know where this is going next.

‘okay,’ it comes out quieter than expected, swallowing as his eyes never leave yours, his hand slides across the back of the couch cushions.

his face now mere inches from yours, lips parted slightly as his eyes flit to your lips. you instinctively lean in, eyes fluttering closed, his breath tickling your cheek.

your nose brushes against his before your lips meet, hesitant to make initial contact. this would mean that you couldn’t just string him along on text, it would become something.

his lips press against yours before you can make the first move, pulling you closer by the neck, hand resting on the bare skin.

you sigh softly when they meet properly, it’d been a good while since you’d done this, now suddenly afraid that you were doing it all wrong. though there wasn’t chance to do much thinking, his lips leading the kiss, moving against yours in a fashion that felt completely natural.

fingertips pressing into your neck, trying desperately to pull you even closer than you were. the feel of his tongue swiping across your bottom lip makes your mouth fall open, allowing full access. you can feel the hint of his smile against your face, pushing his chest to yours.

steve’s door swings open and he stares down the hall at the sight of your faces smushed together, peaking just above the sofa.

‘oh,’ his voice echoes, pulling you apart, blood rushing into your cheeks, not sure how much of that he’d seen, ‘well damn, i didn’t mean to interrupt,’ laughing.

you don’t avert your eyes from your lap, embarrassed to look at your gormless roommate. you can feel the heat soaring in your cheeks, eddie’s fingers ever-so-slowly leaving your neck while he clears his throat.

‘did you want something?’

‘nope.. i’m just gonna-,’ disappearing back into his room with a quickness.

eddie turns to look at you, finding the humour in it all, ‘hey,’ placing his fingers underneath your chin, tilting it upwards to look at him, ‘it’s just steve,’ trying to ease some of your unnecessary embarrassment.

you let out a tiny giggle, nodding along with him, because at the end of the day it was just steve.

‘d’ya wanna stay?’ you ask timidly, blinking at the bambi-eyed man sat in front of you.

he nods quickly, stroking along your jawline with his thumb, soothing and gentle. his sweet, bambi eyes causing those darn butterflies to flap around your stomach again.

spending the night sharing soft kisses in bed, allowing yourself the undeniable feeling of falling for someone that you’d denied yourself for years. giddy as his hands explore the more hidden parts of your body. it wasn’t inherently sexual, but loving and intimate.

falling asleep on his chest, with a grin painted on your face.

you sit cross legged on the couch the next morning, eating the eggs eddie had foraged stolen from steve and very kindly cooked for you.

steve makes an appearance mid-way through the morning, looking disheveled and highly displeased when he realised those were his eggs you had enjoyed.

‘and you didn’t even leave me any? i can’t believe you, both of you.. assholes,’ he whines, coming into the living room with a pout on his face, flopping down into the spare love seat.

eddie offers the nearly demolished plate out to him, ‘here.. i’m finished anyway,’ shaking his head at the grumpy boy.

steve takes the measly piece of toast, ‘oh thanks..’ tucking in to the scraps, pleased with himself.

‘so, you and georgia? over for good or..?’ eddie asks, wanting the full story. getting in there first before steve could mention you two.

‘for good,’ he mumbles, mouth full of toast.

‘no shit,’ eddie exclaims, leaning forward to place the plate on the small coffee table, ‘you ended it or she did?’

mindlessly, you stretch your leg out over eddie’s, tuning into steve’s stupid story. you don’t even realise you’ve done it until he starts mindlessly playing with your leg, running his fingers up and down the smooth skin.

completely tuning out of whatever steve had begun to say, focussing on the way eddie’s eyes followed steve, frowning as he told this elaborate tale of the breakup-not breakup.

you’d found yourself doing that often, gazing at eddie, enamoured with the way his entire face seemed to tell you exactly what he was thinking and feeling.

it didn’t help the way his perfect, plump lips moved and you practically could feel them pressed against your-

‘are you even listening? or are you too busy making kissy faces at eddie?’ steve stops in the middle of his pacing to question you, hands stuck mid-air.

your head snaps to face him, shocked by his direct call out, ‘i- i was listening.. carry on,’ nodding to get him to continue, your cheeks once again flushing with colour.

he narrows his eyes at you before getting on with his spiel, ‘okay so, i told her.. no, no this is it and then she cried.. but i didn’t give in, nope- i left,’ he nods in satisfaction, a smug smile on his face.

from what you’d heard about their situation, he had never been the one to end things. it had always been her. so this must have been a monumental thing, and he was well worth his dues for finally growing some balls and getting rid.

eddie slaps his hand against your calf in celebration, smiling at steve, ‘good for you, y’know she’s bad news.. always has been,’ shrugging, still slightly in disbelief that he had been the one to end it.

‘robin’s gonna be so annoying.. i don’t even wanna hear it,’ shaking his head, ‘but thanks, we’re going out tomorrow, to celebrate,’ pointing at the two of you sat on the couch.

you’re actually ready early for once, sat glancing at the time on your phone. okay, twenty minutes til you needed to leave, a quick lie down on your bed couldn’t hurt, right? hell, you could leave in twenty five and not be late, why not?

you’d said you’d meet the guys at the bar at ten, assuming you’d be finished at nine. but then david had let you go early so you’d gone home to make yourself slightly more presentable. a little power nap couldn’t go wrong. right?

well actually, a lot could go wrong.

you’re only aware that you had dropped off to sleep when a banging at the door jolts you awake. whoever was on the other side sounded frantic, as if they were using their fist to pummel the wood.

you step quickly through the apartment, still disoriented from sleep, only just getting your bearings when you fumble for the lock, opening the door to reveal a worried looking eddie.

‘eddie? wha- what’s going on?’ eyes stinging from the bright hallway lights.

‘jesus chr- you didn’t show up.. i thought something happened,’ sounding relieved, you were confused about what all the fuss was about.

‘i fell asleep,’ realisation setting in, ‘i fell asleep, oh my god.. i’m so sorry,’ your ten minute rest had turned into a two hour long nap, completely missing your meeting time.

your heart pangs with guilt, you’d fucking slept through your first real date and without so much as a text to let him know. he must’ve thought you’d ditched him. or died. he’d definitely thought you’d died.

‘hey.. it’s okay, i just thought something had happened to you,’ giving you a reassuring smile, relieved as you stood in front of him rather than a ditch somewhere, never to be seen again.

‘i am so so sorry.. i didn’t mean to fall asleep i was just resting my eyes i literally lead down for one minute i’m so sorry,’ babbling on, one long run on sentence.

‘it’s okay,’ taking your thrashing hand into his, ‘i promise it’s okay.. okay?’

you exhale, chilling out slightly as his hand clasps yours, ‘i’m basically ready.. we could still go out?’ looking down at your slept-in outfit.

‘do you still wanna go out? you obviously need the sleep.. i don’t mind if you don’t want to,’ fingers rubbing your hands, soothing any possible lingering worries.

‘i- uh, we could just stay in? steve’s not here so..’ shrugging, you weren’t entirely confident that your suggestion had come across the way you’d planned but he nods anyway, smiling as he walks into the apartment.

so you eat pizza in bed, cross-legged with your shitty laptop playing the cheesiest rom-com you could find, much to eddie’s protests, ‘my laptop, my rules.’

but it doesn’t take long and he’s enthralled, eyes glued to the screen while yours stare at him, taking in every detail. the way his eyes crease when he smiles or the soft shadow of stubble across his chin.

‘stop staring at me and watch this stupid movie,’ smirking, not once looking over at you.

your eyes snap to the laptop, cheeks flushing as you’d been caught and rightfully called out for it. finding it hard to even focus on whatever was going on when he was sat mere inches away with that smug look on his face.

‘i was actually looking at.. your hair,’ nodding to yourself, satisfied with your excuse.

‘my hair? what about my hair?’ turning his attention to you who was now pretending to be thoroughly interested in the movie.

‘watch the stupid movie,’ you smile, throwing his own line back at him.

‘no,’ he snaps back quickly, ‘tell me what’s wrong with my hair?’ nudging your arm with his elbow.

you slowly slide your gaze to him, ‘you really wanna know?’

‘i really wanna know.’

‘it’s..’ mouth opening and closing like a fish, finding something to say, ‘curly,’ pleased with your bullshit answer.

his face contorts into pure confusion, before bursting into laughter, ‘shut up,’ lunging over to you, pushing you backwards onto the mattress, moving on top of your body.

your heart pounding a million miles an hour as his face lingers above yours, ‘you can stare at me for as long as you like,’ gaze lowering to your lips, his muscular arms either side of your face, enveloping you in.

you cut the tension first, reaching up to connect your lips, legs instinctively opening to welcome him between them. hands snaking up his arms and coming to rest on his shoulders.

you shudder when his rough hand crawls underneath your shirt, sliding up your waist until it meets your bra. he pulls back just enough to keep your lips lazily connected, looking for permission to touch you properly.

‘i don’t- i haven’t.. in a while,’ nervously gripping onto his shirt, afraid he might laugh at you for being such a shy prude.

‘okay,’ nodding, pressing tender kisses to your lips and jaw, ‘can i?’ hand still lingering just underneath your bra, itching to move up just an inch.

‘mhmm,’ rolling your head back when his lips find their way to the sensitive skin of your neck, finally gripping onto your boob from over the bra.

nibbling and sucking at the nape of your neck, pulling the lacy bra down exposing your nipple to the cold air of your room. you exhale sharply, not quite expecting the sensation of his thumb messing around with your already hard nipple.

‘i want to..’ dotting kisses down to your chest, ‘..make you feel good,’ face lowering from yours, leaving a trail of kisses on your stomach, still palming your breast on the way down.

you can’t respond, words caught in your throat as your melt into his touch, putty in his hands as his lips stop just below your bellow button, looking up for some confirmation to carry on.

‘do you want me to?’ sliding his palm down to the waistband of your jeans.

you nod hurriedly, ‘yeah.. yes,’ peering down to watch him smirk, hooking his fingers into the elastic and pulling the denim down at an excruciatingly slow pace.

your eyes fly to the ceiling, not wanting to watch as he pulls your jeans off fully, missing the excitable look on his face when he sees the lacy panties you’d worn. already sodden from his pitiful touch, embarrassed by your excitement, you squeeze your eyes shut.

the panties are next to removed and you can hear him shuffle around, placing your thighs on his shoulders as arms wrap around them, holding you in place.

‘you just tell me if you want me to stop, okay?’ he mumbles, planting gentle, teasing kisses to the inside of your thigh.

‘mmm,’ you hum in response, aching for him to just touch you already.

his tongue travels between your folds, causing your thighs to clench together, essentially trapping him between your legs. this is all the encouragement he needs, repeating the action, fingers making indentations in your skin.

‘you’re.. huh,’ circling his tongue around your clit, finding the perfect spot to have you clinging onto the bedsheets, ‘soaked,’ middle and index finger leaving your thigh to tease your hole, edging their way in.

your whimpers are music to his ears, relishing in the high pitched wail he pulls from you the second his fingers enter. tongue still lapping at your clit, moving in the most unholy manner.

‘holy shit,’ you whine when his fingers curl up inside, pumping in and out painfully slow. balling the cotton sheet in your fist, desperately trying to ground yourself.

he’s relentless, swirling his tongue up and down your folds, paying particular attention to your clit and the way your thighs tightened around his head when he found the sweet, spongy spot inside.

your eyes rolling back into your head at your impending orgasm, pleasure coursing through your stomach, unable to find the words to warn him of what was coming.

he knows when your thighs begin to shake and you clench around his fingers, grinning into your pussy as the most unholy sound escapes your lips, echoing through the tall room.

eddie emerges from between your legs, satisfied with himself, finger tips still digging into the pliant skin of your thighs. watching dutifully as writhe, the evidence of you all over his lips as the glisten in the dim light.

‘you good?’ he asks, carefully pushing himself up to perch above you, leaning on one elbow.

you nod, still trying to get your bearings from the earth-shattering orgasm he’d just given you. blinking up at him when you eventually come back to this earth, his eyes full of lust and wanting.

‘i am happy to do that anytime.. by the way,’ a deep chuckle erupting from his throat, hand coming up to brush the sticky hair from your forehead.

you could feel him in between your bodies, sort of taken aback that he hadn’t even done that for his pleasure, but yours.

‘please,’ you whisper bashfully, suddenly coy before the man who was just between your legs.

‘gladly,’ smiling as your lips connect, the taste of you all over his mouth. it was probably the filthiest thing you’d ever done, but you enjoyed it, hell, you were proud of it.

you’re sweating bullets on the subway, clinging onto the bag on your shoulder. it’d be the first time you were staying at eddie’s house, solidifying that this wasn’t just a casual, situational thing.

it wasn’t like you’d never shared a bed or even been intimate for christ’s sake. staying at his place just sorta felt like the next step to being something else.

you’re almost trembling when you lift your hand to knock, checking that you’d got the right place for the fourth time.

when the door opens you’re relieved to see eddie on the other side, already grinning and rushing you inside, taking your bag from your clutch.

it was nothing like you’d imagined, slightly cluttered but with much more character than yours and steve’s apartment had. he’d made it his home, even with a roommate.

‘d’you find it alright? feels weird seeing you here,’ chuckling awkwardly, watching as you glance around the room, noticing the guitar leant up against the wall.

‘yeah.. sorry, you play?’ surprised that you didn’t know this about him, shocked that he had never bought it up.

‘ahh.. yeah, used to be in a band,’ his hand rubbing on the back of his neck, all bashful. you loved it, normally so confident and assured in himself that seeing him practically shrink in front of you was so alien.

‘and you didn’t tell me? i thought we were friends,’ it sounds weird to say but technically it was true, not entirely sure where you stood in terms of your relationship status.

‘we’re friends? did i just get friendzoned?’ his lips curling into a smile, the confident eddie rushing back.

‘well,’ you struggle with words, ‘as far as i’m aware.. we’re just friends,’ hoping that it didn’t seem like you were deliberately dropping hints. even though you totally were.

he saunters closer, ‘what’re you saying?’ smile growing, leering down at you with those sickening eyes.

you shake your head, unable to contain your own grin, ‘nothin’,’ craning your head up to look at him properly, the creases by his eyes only increasing.

‘hmm.. kinda seems like you were,’ teasing in the way he spoke, words dripping with sarcasm.

‘okay, so we’re not friends.. what are we then?’

‘well, you could be my girlfriend? does that sound better?’ his hand hovering over your waist, not wanting to preemptively celebrate in case he had got this completely wrong.

‘sounds perfect to me,’ fully grinning as one hand clamps down onto your waist, the other tenderly caressing your jaw, pulling your jaw up towards him.

you can feel the warmth of his breath on your forehead as he exhales, ‘thank god you said yes,’ the cold of the ring on his thumb tracing along your jawbone.

you chuckle quietly, ‘don’t be silly,’ pressing your lips to his in a soft kiss, arms coming up to snake around his neck, keeping him as close as can be.

your boyfriend.

eddie had gone to take a shower, leaving you in his bed, in his shirt, grinning away like a mad woman. it’s nauseating how happy you were, stomach bubbling with excitement and slight nervousness.

rolling over to grab your phone from the nightstand, your stomach dropping the second the screen lights up.

five missed calls from mom

two new voicemails

you sit up against the headboard, dialling the voicemail box, already imagining a hundred and one horrible things that may have happened.

hey baby, i uh, i tried to call you but i couldn’t get through.. ross is in the hospital, we’re not sure what it is yet.. please call me when you get this, okay love you

her worried tone sets alarm bells ringing immediately. your little brother had been sick the past couple of weeks, just the flu she’d said.

you don’t even listen to the next voicemail, hopping out of bed while you ring her number directly. the dial tone pissing you off as it rings and rings.

‘hello?’ you rush down the phone the second it connects, trying to shimmy into your jeans one handed.

‘oh my god,’ she breathes down the phone, ‘baby are you okay? i couldn’t get ahold of you.. we’re still waiting on results,’ your mom sighs shakily, you can hear the faint beeping of the hospital in the background.

‘i’m coming home, i-i’ll get the train or something.. wha-what’s wrong with him?’

eddie appears from the bathroom, towel draped around his waist, obviously alarmed by your distressed tone and holding his hand out for you to balance on as you wriggle into your jeans.

‘we’re not sure.. one of the nurses thinks it could be pneumonia, they’re doing some blood work.. how long will it take to get back?’

you weren’t even sure if there were trains at this time of night. maybe you could a bus? or a couple of buses? it was already the best part of an hour to drive, that’s without relying on public transport.

‘i don’t know.. there might be a train, uh- shit,’ rushing around eddie’s room searching for your shoes, ‘i’ll be there as soon as i can, okay? i’ll think of something,’ sliding your feet into your dirty old sneakers.

‘okay baby.. i love you, text me when you know, okay?’

‘okay.. okay, i love you too,’ you mutter into the phone, sliding it into your pocket and looking frantically around the room for your jacket.

‘what’s going on?’ eddie asks, still none the wiser and now dripping water onto the carpet.

‘my brother’s in the hospital.. i need to go home,’ voice shaking, becoming increasingly frustrated at your missing jacket.

‘i’ll drive you,’ he says without hesitation, springing into action.

‘it’s like an hour- i was, i can get the train,’ you rush, watching as he gets changed, a million times calmer than you were.

‘no, i’ll drive.. there’s no trains at this time,’ retrieving a new shirt from the drawer, patting his jeans for his keys.

it’s only then that you stop, everything hitting you all at once. completely overwhelmed by his selflessness and the calming nature he was exuding even in such an intense situation.

the tears spill over onto your cheeks and he’s immediately pulling you into his chest, arms encasing your shaking body as you sob into his clean shirt.

‘hey.. it’s okay, he’s okay.. you’re okay,’ large hand rubbing circles on your back, soothing you as you attempt to catch your breath.

you nod into his chest, collecting yourself just enough to pull away, anxious to get there and see your little brother.

‘i know,’ you babble, not believing the words coming out of your mouth, ‘are you sure? i’m sure there’s a bus..’

‘i’m sure,’ he nods, ‘you ready?’

‘mhm,’ you squeak, ‘my jacket..’ looking around aimlessly.

but he already knows where it is, obviously. grabbing the leather jacket and swinging it over your shoulders as he leads the way out of the door and to his van.

the journey is awful. your mind racing over every single possibility. guilt making your stomach churn, feeling as selfish as ever because you weren’t there when they needed you.

eddie’s hand creeps over to rest on your knee and it helps for a moment, knowing that he was there even in your self-loathing, pathetic state.

he most definitely broke a number of laws getting to the hospital but you couldn’t care less. screeching into the parking lot and into a space. you barely give him time to turn the engine off before jumping out and speeding into the hospital.

the lady at the desk is as helpful as possible, directing you to the intensive care unit with some vague directions.

you make it there eventually, eddie trailing behind as you ask another doctor where they were. he takes you to a room on the corner, opening the door to reveal your mom curled up on the chair and your frail looking brother asleep in the bed.

she looks up, relief washing over her face as you step into the room, bounding over to her and pulling her into a tight hug. squeezing your eyes shut so to not let the tears fall.

she smelt like home. like all the comforts you’d missed in the city. warmth and peace.

her hands clutch your shoulders, pulling you apart, ‘he’s okay.. he’s okay, it’s a bad bout of pneumonia but he’s okay,’ smiling ever-so-slightly, ‘we’re just waiting for him to wake up now.’

you can feel the air expel from your lungs, you weren’t even aware that you’d been holding your breath until it all came out.

‘oh my god,’ you sigh, pulling her back into your arms, ‘he’s not gonna die..’ really only saying it to confirm it yourself.

she chuckles tearfully, ‘no baby..’ her eyes move to eddie who was lingering by the door, pulling away once again, ‘sorry.. who’s this?’ completely bewildered by the long haired stranger stood before her.

‘oh uh, this is eddie, my.. boyfriend,’ watching as he offers his hand out for her to shake, ‘he drove me here,’ smiling at the sight of them even interacting.

‘hello.. eddie,’ shaking his hand before glancing back at your shirt, ‘..boyfriend,’ she utters to herself. you could decipher the exact look in her eye and will most definitely collar you later for not telling her about him.

he gives her a tiny, tight lipped smile, he’d never have imagined meeting your mom tonight but here we are.

you take her attention back before she can probe him, ‘have you eaten? why don’t you go and get some sleep and we can wait until he wakes up? i’ll call you as soon as he does.’

she pauses before nodding once, ‘yeah.. yeah,’ narrowing her eyes, ‘the minute he wakes up, okay?’ squeezing your arm, affirming that she was just so grateful for you being here.

she collects her things, reiterating that her phone will be on loudspeaker and you must call as soon as his eyes open. she’d be back at seven if you hadn’t called.

giving eddie another polite smile and a quick thank you before leaving. she’d looked exhausted and slightly dazed, probably thankful now that you were here to watch over ross.

‘sorry ‘bout my mom..’ you smile, ‘you don’t have to stay.. if you need to get back, i’ll be okay,’ he’d already done so much for you, asking him to stay would be too much. even if you were dreading being here all on your own.

‘i’m staying, as long as that’s alright with you?’ cocking his eyebrow, taking a seat on the uncomfortable, brown hospital chairs, settling in for what was going to be a long night.

you nod quickly, ‘of course,’ choosing to perch on the side of your brothers bed, trying your hardest to swallow the growing lump in your throat.

he looked sick. pale and sweaty with tubes coming out of every part of him. it didn’t matter though. he was going to be okay.

your head rests on eddie’s lap, his fingers playing with your hair as you doze in and out of sleep. too anxious to properly rest. the nose of the machines doing you no favours.

‘shit,’ you exclaim, your other responsibilities had just dawned on you. it was deadline day and your final column was stuck, wedged in a bag on eddie’s bedroom floor.

‘hmm?’ he hums, shuffling as you’d startled him from his daze.

‘my column..’ you shake your head, it didn’t matter, not really. not when your brother was still stuck in here, god knows how many tubes coming out of his body.

‘what about it?’

you exhale softly, temple brushing against the rough denim of his jeans, ‘it’s due today.. it doesn’t matter,’ shrugging, accepting the loss.

‘when?’ he asks, fingers still weaving through your hair.

‘at five,’ the columnist position disappearing from in front of your eyes, ‘it’s okay.. i’m sure there’ll be another job.. somewhere,’ trying to hide the disappointment in your voice.

frankly, you’d be lucky if you had a job at this point. simmon’s wouldn’t keep you on if you didn’t turn up tomorrow night and the internship had finished.

‘have you finished it?’ adjusting in the seat, tilting your head up towards him.

you nod, swallowing as you’re sure you can guess what he’s going to say next. there’s not a chance you’d let him drive back just to hand in your stupid column.

‘i’ll take it, you just gotta tell me what and where to go,’ lips twitching into a soft smile, massaging your cheek with his thumb.

‘no, i can’t ask you to do that,’ jutting your bottom lip out.

‘you didn’t, i offered.. it’s different.’

you pause, stomach fluttering and all you can do it nod. brain turning to mush as his eyes study your face, the slight curve of his pretty pink lips was entrancing. snapping back to reality when you remembered where you were.

‘i’ll go when your mom comes back, yeah?’

‘if you’re sure.. it’s in my bag in your room, i can text you the address.. you really don’t have to,’ blinking up at him, astounded by his kindness, the pure calmness he exudes.

‘shut up, i want to,’ reassuring you with a smile, brushing the hair off of your forehead.

he goes the second your mom turns up, looking slightly more like herself, giving him a small appreciative hug for staying with you all night.

the inevitable grilling is cut short when ross opens his eyes, coughing and spluttering as he comes to. both of you rushing to his bedside, being ever so gentle to not hurt his already fragile body.

he’s still sleepy, but so grateful to see you at his side. you swear to yourself, and to him to not ever be away from him for so long again. your heart wrenching at his weak smile, clinging to his cold fingers and reaffirming a million times that you were here.

you’re milling around the bright, sterile room. waiting for the nurse to administer the next round of drugs when your phone rings, startling you.

it’s eddie. stepping out of the room into the silent hallway and answering.

‘hello?’ smiling to yourself the second you hear his voice.

‘hey.. did you do it?’

‘yup, all handed in.. she said something about an email? i don’t really know.. but yeah, it’s in,’ you can hear the slam of his van door.

breathing a sigh of relief knowing that maybe all hadn’t been lost, ‘thank you.. thank you so much.’

‘i spoke to.. fuck, i think his name was david? he said to take the week off and he hopes your brother’s okay.’

‘you went to simmon’s? eddie i- you didn’t have to.. thank you,’ your heart bursting through your chest, you weren’t sure that anyone had ever cared about you this much.

‘now.. i’ve got you some clothes, d’you want me to bring them now or i can come later?’ his jury’s jangling in the background.

you want to tell him no, to stop being so kind, to stop making your heart swell with every word, every thoughtful action. but you can’t, instead nodding enthusiastically though he couldn’t see you.

‘you can come now.. thank you, i owe you my life,’ listening to the engine turn on, already on his way back to you.

‘you owe me nothin’.. i’ll be about an hour, okay?’

#eddie munson #eddie munson angst #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #modern!eddie munson

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gh0stsp1d3r · 4 months

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𝒮𝓌𝒶𝓃 𝓅𝒶𝓇𝓉 𝓉𝓌ℴ

Warnings-Dancer!reader, lots and lots of pining. Sweet academy coryo idgaf if he’s ooc (If you want to be tagged in next part, don’t be scared to ask!!)

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Part 1, part 3, part 4

You were an angel. To him, at least. You had saved him. You could have left him in the dust, you could have let him rot.

But you had saved him. He had woken up just in time to see you dancing across the stage, your eyes closed as you did so.

You pouring your whole heart into it, your sweat and your tears from exhaustion made the performance all the more better.

You would put on one hell of a show if there was a chance of it being the last one. Although you were sure it wasn’t, and you would persevere through everything the games threw at you.

“Record high for the evening! Beautiful performance by y/n, the capitol is definitely watching. See what happens when you do stuff?” Flickerman said, you turned to him, catching your breath for a moment.

“Now I don’t love your odds, but they may be in your favor.” He said to you, you gave him and the crowd a small smile, wiping the tears and sweat away from your face.

“Thank you for being here.” Coriolanus said, finally turning away from the screen and to Tigris and sejanus.

“How great is it that we’re here for someone’s final performance?” Flickerman said, Coriolanus turning his attention back to the screens.

“It won’t be my final.” You said to them, still breathless yet determined. Your hands on your hips.

He smiled at that, “I like your enthusiasm. Thank you. Get a good nights rest, you all have a big day tomorrow."

“Y/n.” He whispered, repeating it three times. When you heard him, you ran over and gripped the bars.

“Coryo. Are you okay?”

It wasn’t Coriolanus this time, it was coryo. He ignored it for now.

“Those bombs, they have changed everything. They blew the walls out. That means you can escape up into the stands. There’s a hole down in the floor. Leads down to some tunnels, I’ve tried it, and you can disappear down there. When you hear that bell ring, ignore the weapons and run as fast as you can for that hole. And you find a place to hide down below. Alone.”

“Alone?”

He nodded. You swallowed, “Jessup-“

“The moment that bell rings, you can’t trust anyone. Not even Jessup. Just lay low down there until it’s safe to come out.”

“Thank you. For… everything..” you said. You knew you wouldn’t listen to him.

“I can’t let you die. You saved me.” You heart raced as he spoke for some odd reason.

“You saved me, y/n.”

You smiled slightly and he smiled back, a tear ran down your face and the smile faltered.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

“Hey.. hey. It’s okay. You’re okay.”

He grabbed out a handkerchief, wiping your tears away. You both stared into each others eyes, and he spoke again “I am gonna get you out of here. I promise.”

You both silently stared at each other for a while. “Oh. Uhm, here.” You mumbled, interrupting the tension and turning around and handing him the shoes he had given you for your dance. “Thank you.”

“Of course. Once you’re out of here, you can keep these.” He said, holding them with a small smile. You smiled back.

He had gathered some of what he had had been saving for his family for them.

“Here. You take this.” He pulled something out of his pocket, handing it to you.

You looked at it and back at him. “What is it?”

“Rat poison. Don’t touch it, or even breathe it in.”

You looked at him with wide eyes now, you looked fearful almost. You didn’t want to use this. It wasn’t like you.

“I’ve seen what war does to people, there will come a time where you’ll need. When you need to act.” He said, “we all do things we’re not proud of to survive.”

You looked back at him again.

“Hey, we are gonna win this, y/n. We are gonna win this together.”

“Promise?” You said, voice a bit more high pitched than you expected it to come out as.

“Promise. Goodnight.” He said, and began to get up before you whispered again.

“Coryo.”

He turned back to you now.

“Do you have to leave right now?” You asked him quietly. He had a small smile on his face as he came back over to the gates.

“Why?”

“I can’t sleep. How can I, knowing im probably gonna have to kill someone tomorrow?” You said.

He sat down, wordlessly and listened to your words.

“Do you want me to stay for a bit?” He asked, feeling foolish as he said it.

“If you can.” You said, your eyes pleading.

He sighed, and laid down, his arm under his head. You did the same, you both staring into the sky.

“Your performance was amazing, by the way.” He said.

“I’m glad you thought so. I wish I could have met you under better circumstances, coryo.”

“I wish that as well.” He said quietly. It was silent for a while before you spoke again.

“My mom used to tell me stories about all the constellation’s. That one,” you pointed to Ursa Major “was one of her favorites to talk about.” He listened to you ramble on about each one’s stories, and he swore he could listen to the sound of your voice forever.

How he wished that he had been able to fall asleep right here to the sound of it, how he wished to hold you in his arms.

“Goodnight, Coryo.” You told him once he decided it was getting late and he should get back.

“Goodnight.” He said, pulling out another rose and reaching beyond the bars, putting it behind your ear and holding your face for a moment.

“Wake up. On your feet.” They said, you shook Jessup and you both stood up.

They had roughly pushed you inside, you looked behind you at Jessup.

The cameras were on you all, you entered and the little girl next to you reached her hand out. You held your own for her to hold, which you did for a moment before being forced to separate.

You watched everyone else around you, one girl being dragged as she sobbed. The peacekeepers left soon, and you saw Marcus hung up. Your lip quivered, you looked down and then remembered with Coriolanus had said.

You looked at the hole, then for Jessup. The bell rung and everyone started shouting and attacking each other. You ran towardsJessup, who was standing there. You evaded their attacks, and managed to kick one off of you even.

You then focused back to Jessup, grabbing onto his arm and helping him up. You ran underground with him, when the others came from the other way.

You noticed an entrance from the bottom of the door, quickly going down and entering it, Jessup following. You helped him through. One girl tried following, but she was stabbed and dragged out. You and him had just made it.

You were both safe for now, you thought when you heard their footsteps leave. You looked at jessup and he was already fast asleep. You smiled to yourself, forcing your eyes to stay open.

#coriolanus x y/n #coriolanus x you #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x reader #president coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow #young!coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x female!reader #president snow x reader #coryo snow #snow x reader #snow #snow x you #coriolanus imagine

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bugeater101 · 1 year

Text

Stop Hitting Yourself

Synopsis: After four years of high school, you were sick and tired of Yang Jeongin. However, your inexperience with relationships combined with his persistence have you questioning your feelings towards him. Now, in the final stretch of your secondary education, you've somehow been paired up with that brute in a project. Yet, your study plans in the library take a different turn when you let your curiosity (and his perseverance) get the better of you.

Content: bully!Jeongin x nerd!fem!reader, plus size!reader, virgin!innocent!reader (doesn't know anything besides basic biology), dom!Jeongin, big dick!Jeongin, Jeongin is a dumbass (also oscillates between like cold bad boy and golden retriever boy), hand kink, reader has small hands, Jeongin has huge hands (duh), enemies to lovers, school AU, the reader is a bit insecure and endures a lot of bullying by Jeongin (teasing, mocking, comments related to glasses, no other negative comments related to appearance), mentions of smoking, 0-100 kind of plot, groping, spanking, pain kink, oral sex (male!receiving), crying, degradation, slight size kink, public sex, unprotected sex (please where a condom!!), mentions of breeding, vaginal penetrative sex, a hella cute epilogue.

Word Count: ~16.9 k (I AM SO SORRY)

Author's Notes: This fic is for my lovely and patient followers and hte amazing anon who sent in this request! Also, even though this AU takes place in a high school setting, please note that both Jeongin and the reader are 18+ in this fic. Minors, do not interact! This work also follows a lot of stereotypes about like "nerds" and "bullies" but bear with me y'all. If you ever find yourself in a similar situation, trussss that it is not because the bully is harbouring some crush on you. This fic uses such dynamics to simply build towards the smut and power dynamics. To quote Tyler the Creator, "Hey, don't do anything I'm about to say." Also, I would eventually love to do another and much shorter part two, but that is an idea for another time. Thank y'all as always!

Taglist: @scribblemetae @mygsis, @9900z @taekbokki,@imtoooyoungforthisshit, @jihanlovic, @compersian

You had three goals once you entered high school: get good grades, stay out of trouble, and try to have fun.

Yang Jeongin, however, seemed hell-bent on destroying any semblance of peace in your life. In fact, you bet that his whole schedule was dedicated to manifesting your misery. Or, possibly, he just brought torment with him wherever he went.

Nevertheless, it was accurate to claim that his purpose (in your perception) was to make you miserable. For the past school year, you had seen more of Jeongin than you ever wished to: your schedules put him in at least two classes with you every semester for four years and you also lived relatively close to one another. So, your encounters were frequent, expected, and... "memorable", to say the least.

Every day since freshman orientation, you have been forced to acknowledge Jeongin's existence on a daily basis. Almost immediately, he adopted a particularly cruel stance toward you. When it all first started, his taunts were just for fun and to seek attention, to say the least. Now, he just seemed mean. Not to anyone in particular: Jeongin was just a generally disagreeable person, and especially to you. And it hurt.

Obviously, it hurt, who would not be hurt if they found themselves in such circumstances?

It was embarrassing to admit it, but Jeongin's indifference toward you was often offset by your more "cordial" feelings toward him. Actual motherfucking cordial feelings. In other words, you had harboured a small, tiny, minuscule, microscopic crush on him that even his meanest days could not challenge. So, you've had a crush on Jeongin since you first met him and it has been the dumbest thing you've ever done.

You remember when you first saw him. It was orientation for high school, the first day of the semester. You were a freshman and he was too. However, your appearance alone separated you and him into two distinct social categories. Like the delinquents that were his so-called friends, he wore his uniform messily: tie loose, shirt untucked, sneakers, and messy hair. Everything he did was with an insufferable air of nonchalance and disrespect, almost aggressive in the languid, lazy movements he made. Even his walk reeked of a cockiness that altered the milieu of the room. You couldn't believe how intolerable he was, nor could you believe how your cheeks flushed at the mere sight of him. High cheekbones, a fox-like face, slender build but definitely on the muscular side. God, not to mention he was big. He was tall, at least taller than the other boys in your grade. His height alone made him stick out like a sore thumb, not to mention his clothing. He had immediately caught your eye and it made you sick.

And then there was you: you were just as out of place as he was, but for entirely different reasons. Your hair was proper, your glasses were well polished, and your uniform was always ironed. Of course, the uniform rarely fit properly as you were bigger. The shirt never buttoned right and the skirt was too short in the back, making you feel much more out of place than you would have liked. Other than your rather ill-fitting uniform, your propriety and intelligence made you the odd one out. You contrasted much of the student population in those respects, especially Yang Jeongin.

For lack of a better word, you were a fucking loser. And so was Jeongin. But at least he owned it. Maybe that was what you liked about him, that he knew he wasn't much and didn't have to prove himself through school or other activities. Either that or how fucking attractive his jawline was or his messy hair.

Jeongin and his friends managed to sit somewhat near you during orientation. He couldn't see you from his position, but you could see him. His confident stare, the flirtatious grin he flashed, and the troublesome giddiness in his eyes would normally make you well annoyed. But, with him, it was somehow different, like he wasn't just another stupid boy you couldn't wait to ignore and forget. God. It was like some trope where he was the bad boy and you were some know-it-all who was desperate for some freedom, which he could offer you.

The entire assembly went over your head as your eyes transfixed on the boy who sat in front of you with his giggling gaggle of friends and troublemakers. You swore he thought he was one of the cutest boys you'd ever seen.

That all quickly changed once you got to know him.

You only had two classes with him that year but they were unforgettable due to the sheer torture he put you through. He would tease you, take your notes, copy off of your tests, and sometimes right his name on your homework (and he would still manage to get shitty grades). Needless to say, your fondness for him obviously and quickly diminished.

Yet, you still knew that those feelings hadn't entirely disappeared. They were still there, just somewhere deep down. However, some nights, those feelings were quite shallow and you didn't need to search so deeply to find them, as if you could reach out and touch them with ease. It happened late at night and only in the shroud of darkness. Your head would either be too busy or too slow, as if the overbearing presence of thoughts or their complete absence somehow created a tunnel to your most shameful yet needful desires. Though you wouldn't like to admit it, at these moments you find yourself pining for him. And then you feel those feelings, the ones that you don't really understand but you're too embarrassed to even type the words into the search bar and figure out what's going on so you just deal with them. And then you spend the night lying in your bed, tossing and turning to your memories of Jeongin, wondering what he would be like if he were here with you now.

Fuck. You need a boyfriend, or to at least get laid.

Yeah. You're inexperienced, but you know the basics. At least, you think you do. When it comes to Jeongin, all logic gets thrown out the window. You often find yourself wondering what you actually want to do with him: to kill him or… God, you couldn’t even think of the filthy things you wanted him to do to you. Maybe it was because you were too embarrassed to think such things, or maybe it was because you truly didn’t know what to think. Despite acing AP biology and understanding how everything physiologically works, your lack of experience has made you rather ill-equipped when it comes to anything romantic or "alleviating" those feelings you have when you think about Jeongin. Either way, your mind was blank when it came to him, especially those feelings that make you toss and turn and pray that weird giddy feeling goes away.

Now, after four years, you can practically taste your liberation from him. However, it's becoming increasingly difficult to ignore his teases. Not only is he becoming more annoying by the second, but it also seems like he is just getting fucking hotter. Especially when he magically starts paying attention in class and you finally have a chance to stare at him uninhibited, as if being free from his constant attention finally gives you a chance to admire him. It looks like you are staring off into space, but really you are studying him. His pretty face, how good he would look if he cleaned himself up a bit more, or even admitting to yourself how good he looks all scruffy. You would study his body, how slender he is, how you want to feed him good desserts, how you think he would be the type of boyfriend to never resist eating his partner's food. Then you would acknowledge how he keeps his nail beds clean. How nice his hands are, overall. How nice they would be to hold. How big they are, how veiny... how that insinuates he is big and veiny in other places.

...Okay, so you weren't completely out of the dating sphere. You were naive, but you knew how everything worked. However, you also knew that there was more than just strange feelings and vaginal penetration and orgasms and pregnancy and yada yada yada: there was more beyond sex than just sex. But, of course, you never worked up the courage to simply type lewd searches into Google or bother to ask any of your friends about it. Except for the hand thing, which is just that: a hand thing. A thing you have for hands, Jeognin’s hands, and yeah. Just a hand thing. Nothing else. Yeah.

Anyways, you remained—more or less—in the dark about sex. Though you would like to know more, you know that you've only felt certain feelings towards Jeongin, and only him, of all people. For any logical person, it is better to bury those feelings deep inside than let yourself accept that they are awoken by a ghastly man who cares little for you or your well-being.

You'd rather stick to your studies, anyways.

Today, however, was a particularly irritating day. Normally, Jeongin enjoyed following you around, jeering rude chants at you with his friends (your favourite was the classic and unoriginal "Hey four-eyes!" followed by a chorus of giggles), or trying to wrap his arm around you as you walked down the hall. Every time, you brushed him off. However, Jeongin's irritability was off the charts since he decided that today was the day to dress in a particularly irritating fashion. He had completely disregarded his school uniform altogether. Why did this of all things make you mad, exactly? Because he looked fucking amazing.

Wrinkled white shirt. Loose tie. And sweatpants. Not just any sweatpants, but grey sweatpants. God, it was like he was trying to annoy you. How could he look so good while wearing something so informal? He was borderline infuriating in his presence alone, now you had to cope with how his sweatpants left little to the imagination. Though you wished that someone would put a stop to this reign of terror, you knew that the school administration had completely given up trying to control him at this point. This institution had become Jeongin's domain and you were intended to suffer through it as well as your rage-based attraction to him. Nevertheless, you pushed those feelings below your impermeable layer of school-related anxiety and ignored them. You found this trick especially useful to you when he was your lab partner in chemistry last year. It is an especially useful tool now considering you were seated across from him.

While you tried to keep your eyes focused on the board in front of you and not on the hunk of the man to your left, the task immediately became easier once your teacher announced the first big project of the semester.

"This project will weigh at around 20% of your grade and will replace this module's exam." Sighs of relief passed through the class in waves, the whole class happy to know that they just have to make a powerpoint rather than study all night for a written test that they would likely fail. Peace, however, was momentary.

"However,” your teacher continued, “since this project is a large amount of work, it will be done in groups of two." You gave a quick smile to your friend and desk partner to your right, who smiled back.

"The groups, however, have been randomly assigned." Your faces both dropped. Actually, everyone stopped smiling. Then, waves of groans moved through the class.

"Stop complaining," the teacher sighed, rubbing her eyes. "To create a conducive learning environment that limits your amount of fun, I randomly assigned each of you to someone in the class who you likely do not talk to. I will post the partners at the end of class and I suggest that you start working on the project ASAP and throughout the weekend because it's due in a week." Another wave of groans rolled through the class and was immediately followed by complaints, questions, exasperated sighs, and a particularly harsh exhale from you. You hated assigned group projects. Due to your reputation, you were usually expected to carry the project along with whoever you were assigned. You never really minded the work as long as you got to choose your partner. Essentially, if the partner was your friend, you would happily and easily do all the work. But now that the teacher has “randomly selected” your partners (she surely just put them through a random assigning program), you felt your blood boil. Jeongin, however, was surely silently rejoicing at the announcement of a group-based project: it meant that he could coast by like he normally did in group projects.

The rest of the class drudged on with great exhaustion. Everyone loathed the prospect of seeing who they were paired up with at the end of it. The worst thing was that it was the Friday of a long weekend. School was meant to be the last thing on anyone's mind until Tuesday came around. You all should have been blessed with the freedom of three days off and whatever it entailed: drinking, parties, staying out late, suspicious excuses given to your guardians, small friend groups loitering at the park at night, getting high then going to the 7/11, and hangovers that you thought were terrible but would seem like small headaches when you're 22 and trying to keep up with college-level drinking. This was what the weekend was for. However, this teacher obviously loved to ruin everyone's time and force them to study and work on this project.

With the final bell, the teacher headed out first followed by a mass of same-dressed students who were eager to see the possible stranger that they would be paired with. Jeongin left first, keen to leave but also being able to leave easily as he had brought nothing to class. After a few minutes, you and your friend followed behind the crowd, watching the mass of students as they shoved to look at the list of partners on the corkboard. Some sulked away, others jeered as they had been blessed with the partnership of a friend. Jeongin was one of the first to walk away, smiling smugly and playfully shoving his friend as they sat idly by, waiting for their partners to come to them.

After a few minutes of struggle, you and your friend finally made your way to the list.

"Who'd you get?" You ask as she studies the list first.

"That kid that sits behind us," she says.

"Oh, that's good! His name is Seungmin, he’s sweet."

"Yeah, but..." her voice trailed off.

"But... what?" You inquired, her voice making you uneasy.

"You're gonna... your partner... just, see for yourself." She steps out of the way as your finger traces down the list to find your name.

And there it is. Next to your partners. And, frankly, you can do nothing but slowly turn and look at Jeongin leaning against the lockers behind you.

He gives you a small smile and raises his eyebrows.

"We'll meet at 5 in the library! I'll see you then!" He states with a twisted grin. With those few words said, he and his friend saunter off, leaving you dumbstruck with your friend praying for your well-being beside you.

“Y/n,” she asked with a soft touch to your arm, “are you okay?” You gave a stiff nod as you watched Jeongin walk away.

God. Those fucking grey sweatpants look so good on him.

---

"You're lucky that you know the librarian well enough that we can be left alone here," Jeongin teased, looking up at the high ceilings and clearly impressed by them. His arms hung low as he carried the stack of books he had slowly accumulated in his arms. Well, you place them in his arms, he just took them because he didn’t really know what to look for or how to study or what this class was even about.

You guessed by his expression (and from your past four years of being his victim) that Jeonging had probably never even set foot in the library. In fact, he had little to no intention of doing so for his whole high school career. Yet, thanks to you, here he was.

"I don't 'know the librarian,'" you groaned. "I volunteer here. Some of us need extracurriculars on our university applications. I just have the privilege of going here enough that I get an extra key to help lock up." You placed the book you were carrying on the wooden table and Jeonin copied your action, dropping the stack of texts with a sigh.

“In other words,” Jeongin taunted, “you know the librarian well enough to come here after hours”. You shot him a look before turning to the mess of textbooks and binders in front of you.

"We wouldn't be alone after-hours if we had just started immediately after class," you stated angrily as you sorted the books into piles for you and him. "But somebody had to go smoke with his friends outside, so now we've had to come after hours to study."

"Just know that it was a really good smoke break," Jeongin replied with glee as you divided up his and your reading materials, placing the books with a hidden rage that only came from years of bullying or sexual frustration. Or, in your case, a horrid cocktail of both. After you were done, you took a seat on one side of the table and gestured for him to sit opposite you. He got the hint and sat, immediately flipping through his books and shuffling them around, not even trying to look busy.

"All I know is that we're here, alone, with no one else around and that I could trash this place if I wanted,” he continued with an air of cockiness you wanted to destroy.

At this point, you were really starting to regret everything that has ever happened to you. Sure, having a key to the school's immense library was a bonus of being a diligent student: you knew you could always escape here and it was entrusted in your care. Many times you had retreated to this place in the hopes of peace and quiet from the troubles of school. It was your sanctuary.

Now, an early library closing, a nicotine addiction, and a late study session had forced you to bring him here.

"I know you won't do that,” you shot back, “and I also know that I could just lock you in here if I wanted for the whole weekend.” Your response made his eyes go wide with what seemed to be shock and worry. However, when a smile broke out on his face, you knew that he thought your threats were empty.

"You're fun!" He cheered.

"I will lock you in here, Jeongin." You restated in a serious tone which he didn't seem to take as seriously. "Now,” you continued, “get started on studying. We have a lot to do and I have no intention of doing it alone. You need to look through the blue book. Read sections 2 to 4 and take notes on anything related to the assignment. Check the study questions, too: there could be info in the answers that could help us out."

"I hate that you're making me work," he complained in an obnoxious tone that could only be embodied by a teenage boy who had never been put in his place. "Normally I do nothing and the person just lugs me along."

"Well, I'm tired of carrying group projects, so you have to carry your own weight," you sighed. "Now. Start studying."

Jeongin gave you an eye roll before quietly retreating to his book. The silence quickly engulfed the library and you flipped through your book, looking at where to begin and fearing how much you had to tackle.

Although this was a less-than-ideal situation, it did have its perks. To be honest, you never knew Jeongin could be quiet. It was nice to take quick glances at him while he studied, his face contorted as he analyzed the text and focused on his work. Just these few moments of silence seemed to give you hope. Maybe you could make the best of a bad situation. Maybe you could use this time to make Jeongin shut up for a few seconds and let you study his handsome face before being rudely disrupted by whatever dribble he decided to shoot out. Maybe this partnering was a blessing in disguise.

Your hopes were ruined as the silence was broken.

"God!" Jeongin groaned, leaning far back in his chair. "This is so borringgggggg!" Your annoyance immediately returned to your body. He was hot, but god did he like to pester you.

"Please, Jeongin, read the passages, I beg of you," you groaned as you looked through the books to find out the sections you were meant to study.

"Ughhhh..." he sighed. Suddenly, he loudly arose, chair screeching back as he picked up his books.

"What are you doing?" You asked, annoyed and barely looking up from the books you were still sorting through.

"I'm moving next to you," he responded as he waddled towards you, moving like a child who was purposefully aggravating a parent just for the fun of it.

"Please, God, tell me why," you groaned.

"Because I'm lost!" He sighed, "I'm gonna sit by you because I hate being this far away and this lost at the same time. You have to help me Y/N if you're gonna make me carry my weight on this project."

As he slid himself and his books beside you, you prayed to every God you knew of—Jesus, Demeter, Allah, YHWH—that you would be vaporized then and there.

There was no escaping this irritation. Normally, you'd parry any advancements Jeongin made. Oftentimes, you would even take a different path home or avoid certain wings of the school altogether just to get away from him. To be clear, Jeongin didn’t actually frighten you. You weren't scared of Jeongin, you were just horribly, dreadfully annoyed with him.

However, today was not a normal situation. There was no avoiding him: you were stuck with this fucking idiot on a group project with no hope of deflecting his pokes or prods.

"Oh, wait, before you start reading you should fix your glasses. They’re falling." He mumbles, "lemme… lemme just..." he then placed his pointer fingers on the center of your lens and pushed them up, readjusting the frames but dirtying your eyesight in the process. You shot him an angry look as he giggled, hating the smudge on the glass.

"If you must know," you seethed as you wiped your glasses off and placed them beside you, "I never wear them to read and study—two activities I still hope to do, despite your presence."

"Ah!" Jeongin dramatically fell back on his chair and grasped his heart as if he had just been shot straight through it. "Words hurt, y/n! I can't believe you would say such things to me! How dare you suggest I distract you!" He cried with a great fabricated sentiment.

Again, you rolled your eyes at his giggles and flirtatious fucking smile that made him look so damn dreamy that it made you want to punch a wall.

"Jeongin, please let me get back to studying."

"Call me 'Innie,'" he responded coolly.

You let a beat pass as you tried to process what he just said.

"...What?!" You hissed at him. That certainly got your attention.

"Call... me... 'Innie.'" His smile widened and he leaned forward, his face inches from yours and moving closer as he enunciated each syllable with mischief.

Part of you wanted to push him away. You wanted to leave the library, march straight home, and write a strongly worded email to your teacher telling her that, despite her requirements, you desperately wanted to complete the assignment by yourself.

The other part of yourself, however...

Shamefully, that part wanted him to lean in closer. It enjoyed his playful smile and tone, and thought about how wonderful it was that you two were together, alone, uninterrupted. It thought about all you could do behind closed doors. It thought about things that made you anxious and confused and, frankly, made you want to turn your brain off.

So, you agreed with the former part.

"Jeongin," you stressed, leaning back. "Please go back to studying. I don't have time to play your silly name games." His exaggerated groan to your response almost made you crack a smile. Almost.

"Come onnnnnn, Y/n!" He wailed, voice echoing throughout the archives. "You don't even have to say it in public! Please! Only once!" Suddenly, he leaned in again and his face was now mere centimetres from yours. His voice was hushed and his eyes had a strange look in them, something that was serious and tempting. It seemed like he was trying to be playfully urgent in his words, but his voice made each syllable come across as languid, as if he were edging you on, almost daring you to obey him.

"Just say it to me. Now, in private,” he pleaded.

Uh oh. That part of your brain that you tried to ignore was coming at you with a vengeance. You hardly noticed that your cheeks were starting to burn. Gathering all control, you tried to put an end to this foolishness.

"We won't ever be alone together after next week,” you replied calmly.

"What... what makes you say that?" He asked with a discouraged curiosity.

"Well... I can't imagine you'd want to hang out after this... after all..." you trailed off.

"After all...? What?" He continued, "After all 'I'm the smartest person in the district and intend to graduate top of the class so I don’t have time to hang out and do scumbag shit with my bestie Innie?"

Okay. Maybe Jeongin actually could humour you. After all, that impression is spot on. The blush on your cheeks had cooled now, but you had not noticed: your mind was too busy malfunctioning over the fact that you were smiling at something Yang Jeongin said to you. Jeongin had genuinely brought a smile to your face, and he seemed to notice, too.

"Woah! There's your smile!" Jeongin jeered, "I've been trying to get you to smile for like three or four years! 'Bout time!"

And just like that, your smile had disappeared without a trace. Your facial muscles even relaxed immediately, feeling no lingering strain from the act. How dare a fucking man tell you to smile, and to try and say that he has been wanting you to do so for four fucking years after bullying you for those same four goddamn years?! You felt like your chest would explode.

"What?! Where did it go?!" Jeongin whined, defeated and pouty because of it. "Pleeasseeeeeee smile again, y/n! You look so adorable when you do! I mean, you always do, but your smile! And I know you need your glasses and you look so cute with them, but I can finally see your whole face without them! Come oonnnnnnnnnn! Smileeeeeeee!!!"

Woah. Okay. Those words had sent that stupid, gullible, optimistic part of your brain into a frenzy. However, you clenched your jaw and kept a steady breath. You couldn’t let yourself get carried away as you knew it was all just a game to him. Everything was a game to him.

If Jeongin was telling the truth and that he thought you were “cute” or “always looked adorable”, you would have truly allowed yourself to believe his words. You would have beamed knowing that he thought it was beautiful if you did or didn’t smile, unable to hold back a response to his affection. If he was telling the truth, you were even ready to blush, beg, plead, flirt—whatever it took to keep him talking about how pretty you looked.

Yet, you are a pessimist, through and through. Before your imagination could run off with the idea that Jeongin’s words were honest and genuine, your heart twined knowing that whatever he was saying was likely far from the truth. What Jeongin said was likely rooted in some foolish, mean-spirited, and twisted way of teasing you. He always did something like this after annoying you: poke the bear then tell it how lovely it looks before it has the chance to chase him down. It was just like those boys in junior high who would yell across the class claiming that “his friend liked you" while the very same friend made disgusted faces. The boys would laugh then, as if the very idea of loving you was a joke. The girls, however, would share a solemn silence, a solidarity only experienced by the victims of female adolescence and the macabre. A

After all these experiences, you knew two things: boys were assholes and they were bullies. And Jeongin was part of them.

So, at this moment, you felt dizzy from the sheer humiliation of his words and your bubbling hatred. You couldn’t believe that Jeongin had the audacity to tease you like this, to say you were pretty when you knew that he had nothing positive to say about you. Saying such sweet things to you with nothing but ill intent behind them made you want to tackle him. Fuck his good looks or his conceited yet insanely attractive attitude.

So, instead of letting yourself be hopeful and toy with the idea that he may actually be saying a nice thing, you did what you did every time: move past it and try to suppress your anger.

Clearing your throat, you returned to your book.

"Affection and coquetry won't work on me, Jeongin," you stated, eyes burning into the pages to try and ward off the pain in your stomach from his words.

"Oh, really?"

God. When will he learn to give up?! He leaned playfully on his hand and swiftly placed his elbow on the table, simultaneously and seamlessly nudging your book out of the way with a coy smile. The act made you huff through your nostrils and dignify his presence with a glare. He didn’t even register the pain his words had caused you.

"They won't," you respond emotionlessly. All your emotions, however, became quite clear as you pushed your book back to its rightful place and shoved his elbow out of the way in the process, making him hiss from the pain. "And I doubt anything you do to me would count as flirtation."

Jeongin's sour face from the ache in his arm quickly changed to a wide-eyed, agape look. Oh no. The face of mischievous curiosity.

"I take that as a challenge!" He boomed.

"Oh, God, please smite me now," you mumbled, anxiety and rage rising.

"I just gotta figure out what you like about me and just really capitalize on it," he pondered aloud.

Well. That statement made you scoff.

"I like nothing about you," you dryly stated.

“Oh, come on!” He responds, hoping your words were of off-beat humour rather than born from frankness. Your annoyance was boiling over, unable to contain it.

“No, it’s true,” you stated with malice. “You tease me about my looks and try to make me feel pretty just to tear me down. It’s honestly sickening and, frankly, after four years, it’s kind of unoriginal, Jeongin.”

“Y/n, what?”

There was no humour in your voice in the next words you spoke, no inkling that what you said could be taken lightly. You had let yourself speak freely and felt the burn of horrid words as they dripped from your tongue.

“In fact, I would say I’d rather hate you. Extremely so.”

Silence engulfed the room. Not even the squeak of the chair as Jeongin shifted could be heard. You glanced up at the boy beside you. Jeongin was still and silent: two things he never was.

"...What?" you asked, your words met with no response but the cold echoes of the library.

“Y/n, how could you say that?” His voice almost cracked as he asked the question. You glanced up at him and caught his eyes. They were glassy, empty.

Oh no.

Oh no... that dreadful empathy inside of you made your heart ache and your stomach churn. How could you feel so horrible after saying one mean thing when he's been nothing but disrespectful to you for four years?!

"I, umm... I—I mean" you tried to defend yourself without seeming like an asshole, which was becoming increasingly difficult as your mind raced to fill the space. However, you realized you had nothing positive to say at all. “Ah, fuck it,” you whispered under your breath. “Jeongin, be serious. Why would I like anything about you when you are nothing but mean to me?"

"Mean to you?!" He spat back, breaking from his hurt trance and turning to anger, simultaneously exacerbating your rage. "When have I ever—!"

"You've been mean since the moment we met!” You shot back, “"You taunt me, tease me, and even follow me when we run into each other. It is hard enough dealing with academic stress, then I'm paired with the bully that makes my life a living hell and—"

"Bully?" He repeated with some distaste in his mouth and a saddened look on his face. "Is that what I am to you!?"

"What else would I call someone who's followed me every day for four years and has done nothing but jeer at me with his friends?! It is hard enough wanting to please everyone and excelling at school despite what I tell myself. But then I get some guy harassing me every day like it's his fucking day job. What else would I call him if not a 'bully'?! What, Jeongin, what?!"

The library walls repelled your voices again and let its old age absorb the hateful things you spat at each other. Slowly, the sound waves dissipated and silence consumed the wooden room. As the quiet settled, Jeongin let a beat pass, nothing to be said as he, too, let your words sink in.

"I... I just wanted..." His voice was hard, stern at first. Then, he sighed, cleared his throat and darted his eyes away, tone changing to a nervous and humble one. "I just… I'm sorry, y/n. Please know that, okay? I never meant for it to be like that or to go this far or even in this direction. Please know that."

The library had never seemed so unsettling to you until this moment.

Your mind dissected his words, prodding them and pulling them apart and trying to find if he was being malicious. Strangely enough, his words seemed... genuine.

Great. This meant two things: 1) that he was genuinely sorry after bullying you for four years, and 2) that, if you wanted to be the bigger person, you had to accept it. Worst of all, your brain came up with the perfect way to accept his apology and also humble yourself, and you really hated how perfect it was and how humiliating it would be. Sometimes, your really fucking hated how your brain worked.

"Innie,” you said softly, “Thank you.”

Jeongin's eyes went wide, so wide you swore they would pop out. The gasp that followed made you believe that he would consume all the air in the room.

"Say—say it again!" He stammered out excitedly.

"No," you replied as you cracked a small smile. "Take it as a peace offering. I, the person who spoke so ill of you, am extending an olive branch to you, the man who has wronged me."

"I understand so little of that metaphor but just know that I'm happy," he smiled. You rolled your eyes at his idiocy and smiled.

However, before you could conclude the discussion and finally, finally, finally, return to your book, Jeongin raised his hand in a half heart.

Hand. Jeongin's hand.

"What... what are you doing?" You mumbled out, studying his digits.

Pretty, big hand.

Fuck. Not these thoughts. Not now.

"C'mon, y/n! I'm making a heart for you to finish! As a peace offering or a tree branch or whatever you want to call it! Like this, yeah?" He demonstrated by making the shape with both hands, making a complete heart and showing it to you with a boyish grin.

Big, soft, veiny hands.

"Uh, y-yeah, Jeongin," your hand was shaking as you raised it to his own. Fuck, they were even bigger in comparison to yours.

Hands. Hold. Touch. Big and veiny and... big...God, what well is big?

That fucking part of your mind needs to shut the fuck up before you lobotomize yourself with a #2 pencil. Luckily Jeongin’s giggles as your hands briefly met to form a heart between the two of you snapped you away from such thoughts.

"Guess we're friends now, huh?" You muttered, trying to distract your perverted inner monologue.

"Aw, y/n!!!" He boyishly cheered. His impish smile was contrasted by his low chuckle. However, your own joy was challenged when Jeongin quickly interlaced your fingers in his.

Oh no.

My tiny hand in his.

"Wait, your hands are so small!"

So big... so big compared to me... so soft, so warm...

"Y-yeah, I've heard that before."

"They’re so adorable! My hands look so big compared to yours, yeah?" His other hand lightly traced your wrist before grabbing it and forcing you to spread your fingers to compare hand sizes.

So, so big. Could barely wrap my hand around him. Could barely wrap my hand around his—

“Wow you’re right,” you responded nervously.

You started to feel that strange feeling, the one you only experienced in solitude in the dead of night, not sitting across from a man who may or may not be your bully anymore and is using you like a plaything. God, why did that thought make these feelings even stronger? You crossed your legs and hoped to squash the voice in your head.

"Like woah! I knew my hands were big but this is crazy!"

Don’t say it, don’t say it, don’t say it—

"Do you have anything else that’s big that I should know about?"

...oh fuck.

This library has gone through too many auditory extremes today. You know that this has got to be the loudest goddamn silence you have ever or will ever experience in your life. Both of your eyes were wide, your stare locked in with his as you sat engulfed in shock.

For the first time today, you felt just how hot your face was.

It felt like an eternity was passing within these seconds of horrifying, dreadful awkwardness. You prayed that once you would finally blink that he just be gone. Sadly, he still sat there, face unchanging and unforgiving.

His hands still held your own.

Breaking the silence, he let out the driest of coughs.

"Well, it's—"

"I-I'm sorry," you stuttered out. "I didn't mean to—"

"It's—It's no worries, truly," he stammered over. The silence came again, but less horrendous this time. Or maybe it was worse, you couldn't decide. All you noticed was the fact that his hand still hadn't left yours.

Jeongin decided to speak again, quieter this time. His eyes were wide, but glancing around frantically, trying to search for the right words. A harsh blush was forming down his ears and hard turned his honeyed skin into a scarlet red. You were strangely comforted knowing that he was just as mortified as you.

"I-It's wrong you know." He hesitated to continue. You, however, were all ears.

"Jeongin," you said slowly, "whatever do you mean?" He sighed, embarrassment consuming him.

"My friends looked it up and... apparently nose length is a more accurate measure.... but... you know..." Though you were fascinated to learn about this new little tidbit of info and that Jeongin actually knew something, you were way too focused on what he wanted to say.

"But what?" you asked in a small voice. His palm was sweating against yours as heat radiated from him.

"Well, just that.. you know... it's not like a rule. There are exceptions. It's just like a theory, yeah?" You nodded, glad to understand what he meant by that. Yet, you swore, that as he finally dropped his hand, exposing your skin to the bitter air of the dusty library, Jeongin uttered a brief "I should know." Though you wanted to poke and prod, you opted to just nod and turned with him towards the table, staring at the stack of unread books.

“Anyways…” you said, breaking the silence, “let’s get started.” Still, you couldn't help but sneak quick looks at Jeongin's face, trying to decide whether or not his nose was longer or shorter than average.

This had to be your least productive and positively worst study session ever.

"What section do I have to read again?" Jeongin asked.

Oh, thank God he said that. You much preferred harassing him about not paying attention than whatever the hell you just experienced.

"I told you," you sighed, flipping open his book and pointing at the contents. "These sections! 2 to 4! Please! Start!"

"But what if I get borreedddddd?" Jeongin groaned. There he was! There’s the annoying Jeongin you know. "I can barely see what you pointed at anyways! Can’t you just help me out?"

"Ohmygod," you muttered, tired but willing to do anything if it meant he shut up and study. "If I were to help you for a bit, do you swear to properly study and leave me alone after?"

"Pinky promise!" He smiled gleefully and stuck out his extended, large pinky finger. After staring blankly at the digit, you linked your smaller pinky around his and slung your head in defeat.

"Okay," you muttered. "Let's begin."

For a bit, this plan worked perfectly. After only 20 minutes, you read through section 2 together and helped point out the more important parts of the text. The 20 minutes were difficult, however. Being this close to him, being able to smell his cologne—which was nice and smelled expensive, contrasting his scruffiness—and brushed shoulders with him was almost too much. Wow. You really were touched starved. Nevertheless, your own lameness was virtually undetectable to you. You were more focused on how well Jeongin retained the information and how neat his words were. You guessed that his utter stupidity was most likely due to his inability to focus, which was still a struggle even as you helped him. Nevertheless, as you began section 3 and were about to return to your own work, you knew that he had already come a long—

"HOW LONG HAVE WE BEEN DOING THIS?" Jeongin cried.

Ah. There he is.

"Just a little more, Jeongin, okay? Please, just be bearable. I have my own work to do," you whined, stomping your feet from exhaustion. Even when he was trying to be polite, he still knew how to get on every one of your nerves.

"Can you please just keep helping me? Just this section and then I swear you can get back to your work?" He pouted. Was... was giving you puppy dog eyes?

You sighed. Again, defeated.

"Yeah, sure," you replied, "let's start here—"

"Y/n?" He interrupted. You rolled your eyes.

"Yes?" He let your snark reply hang before smirking.

"Come closer," he nudged playfully with a smile you would almost consider flirtatious if you hadn't been constantly reminded about his disobedient behaviour for the past hour.

"Why?" You asked genuinely.

"You're squinting! You said don't read with your glasses on but it's straining your eyes! Just..." he thought for a moment, glancing around. "Ugh, whatever! Here—"

Unexpectedly, his hands found their way around your body, slinking under your legs and around your back, sliding under your thighs and brushing the exposed skin.

"Jeongin! I can just put my glasses on—" you blabbered out nervously as he continued to lift you.

"Just come here, fuck!" He shot back, finally raising you from your chair and sliding you onto his lap.

"Jeongin!" You yelped.

Normally, anytime someone picked you up made you want to scream. This, however, this made you want to die.

As if by some magical swiftness, you had now found yourself sitting on Jeongin. Well, not on him. Just between his legs. His long legs were spread out, your thick thighs barely fitting onto the chair as he caged you. And he hadn't remembered to tuck your skirt in when you sat down, so now it splayed open. It had ridden up, exposing everything but your white cotton panties, and was surely flipped onto Jeongin's pants at the back. You just prayed he couldn't see anything. However, he probably couldn't considering how close he was. Worst of all, he kept you close by resting his hands on your hips, making sure you sat still. The pads of his long fingers held your tummy softly, dipping into the fat as his thumbs rubbed slowly up your lower back.

You swore you had never felt so warm in your life. As you broke out in a sweat, you feared that his wolfishly big hands were paired with a keen sense of smell.

"There!" He giggled, resting his chin on your shoulder and leaning his head against yours, studying the book with intentness that starkly contrasted the intimacy of how he held you. "Now you can see well!"

You opened and closed your mouth a few times trying to find something to say. Though his completely nonchalant demeanour was to be expected, you were still shocked but the literal position you were in. Not to mention the way his thumbs slowly drew circles on you while his hands shifted to hold your stomach. Your stomach for godsakes. How does he know exactly where to hold you to make you feel so secure and so goddamn embarrassed at the same time?! You pressed your thighs tightly together, trying to smother the weird feeling building between them that you tried so desperately to avoid. While you squished them your legs, your thighs were simultaneously crushed on either side by Jeongin's own, which were incredibly muscular: a feature you had never noticed until you were stuck between them.

"How..." you asked, "How did you do that? Aren't I heavy?"

"Am I complaining?" He asked back, a smirk in his voice. He wrapped his arms around your waist now, tugging you closer and pressing his chest fully into your back. "If you were ‘too heavy’, you wouldn't be sitting here right now, hm?”

"I-I suppose..." You start, not knowing what to say next.

"Now," he sighed with an air of exaggerated contentment, "if you want to finish this project sOooOOoo bad, then help me study!" God, how could he have you in the palm of his hand— literally— and still manage to pester you?!

"O-okay," you stuttered unsurely. "Well, let's start here and—"

"Mhm," Jeongin hummed, still massaging your fupa lightly and pressing his chest firmly against your back. You tried to burn a hole into the bookk—a feeble attempt at trying to distract yourself.

"A-as you can see," you coughed, "this section is more about analyzing the um..."—one of his hands started to rub lower—"the events t-talked about in the previous section a-and"—the other starts moving up, ghosting over your chest and playing with the top button of your shirt, leaving your tie untouched despite how you desperately wanted to loosen it—"t-trying to c-contextualize the previous section and… p-provide some background and… umm…."

"Gosh, y/n," Jeongin chuckled as his fingers rubbed the column of buttons, "I thought you were such a good student, but you seem so distracted. It's funny really."

Maybe he’s just distracted, you tell yourself, trying to reason what in the hell was going on. After all, he can barely sit still in class and often toyed with loose hems or drew on the margins of his papers. Therefore, it was perfectly reasonable to assume that he was just doing the same now: toying with your uniform as a means of distraction. He always played with you anyways, so it was safe to assume that it was some attention deficit that caused him to trifle with you. That's all it was. Or, at least, you prayed that would be the truth. As his hand fiddled with your skirt’s hemline and the other began loosening your tie, you were just hoping that this was all some absent-minded game for him. If that were the truth, then hopefully this dreadful pressure from between your thighs would disappear. It was building with every second and your panties were now so tight, so straggling, and so wet, latching onto your folds and aiding in your growing shyness.

"J-Jeongin," you began, "c-can you—"

"Innie, please, y/n," he teased in a low voice against your ear. "To you, it's Innie." Though you wanted to scream at him for uttering that petname again, you decided to push your pride aside. You needed him to stop, and you needed to utilize every tool in your arsenal to do so.

"I-innie," you stuttered out, shivering from the warmth that lingered on your ear from his breathy voice. "Can you please stop... you know... t-touching me?"

Again, Jeongin laughed. But, this time, it was drier, with less playfulness behind it and less mercy.

"Aw, y/n," he whispered into your ear, causing you to squirm a little, "I thought we were just having fun. Are you really getting all worked up over a few little touches? I thought you would like it more, you know, considering it's my big hands doing it." His last words were strongly enunciated by his hand tugging on your tie to gain access to your collar buttons. He started to play with them as you huffed, undoing them teasingly.

You were fuming at his words, knowing that: 1) he was just doing this because—at his core—Jeongin was just a fucking asshole, and 2) he was, sadly, correct. Still, you were determined to not let him know that he was right. Knowing him in the way you do, you couldn't let him take this victory

"I-is that really what this is about? Are you really hanging on to that! I had a lapse of judgment f-for one second and—" another button was undone and he began working on the next. After this next button, your bra chest would be exposed. It was only covered by an ill-fitting bra and you silently cursed your frugal self for not investing in better undergarments. Still, you continued. You had to. "I-I just fucking hate that you'd bring it up again! You just love to make fun of me d-don't you?! God, Jeongin, it is so typical of you to t-tease me like this and—Ah!"

The sound of clattering buttons across mahogany and the sudden exposure to air frightened you. Jeongin, however, didn't seem to mind.

"I told you," he stated in a voice you had never heard him use before. "It's 'Innie'. Yes?"

Clearly, he had gotten sick and tired of you talking. He just wanted you to finally be quiet, much like how you wanted him to do the same. To accomplish this, his hands found the opening of your shirt and ripped the fabric open, scattering the last of your buttons, ruffling your shirt, and exposing your chest to him. In exposing you, Jeongin gained the upper hand. It was obvious that all pride, all power you had disappeared. However, his action had also done something else: the sensation you tried so desperately to conceal was making you hopelessly needy. You unconsciously began to twist your hips, rubbing your thighs together in hopes of eliminating the feeling.

The book in front of you was long forgotten.

"Yes..." you replied back in a small voice. "Yes, Innie. S-sorry." You could almost feel Jeongin smile behind you, but, if you truly could, you didn't notice due to his hands returning to their place on your collarbone and stomach. His fingers now languidly traced your clavicle while the other massaged your tummy, fingertips slowly digging into your skirt and pulling out the parts of your shirt that were still tucked in.

"What a good baby," he chuckled, paying no mind to the nickname, though it made you redder than blood. "So fucking horny and no way to ask it. Such a fucking pervert. I bet you wanted this, didn’t you? You're even rutting back into me. Trying to get me worked up, hm?"

"No," you gasped with deep embarrassment, "never!"

"Tut tut, y/n," he tsked. "I know you're up to something."

"If anyone is up to something, it's you!" You protested. Your exclamations only made Jeongin laugh.

"Now, now," he giggled, "you wouldn't want anyone—say, a janitor or a lingering teacher—to hear us and come in? Wouldn't it be bad to see their star pupil being fondled by the school delinquent? Wouldn’t it be bad for them to notice that you liked it?"

Fuck. He knew how to shut you up. You turned your head to catch his gaze, shame and that peculiar feeling spreading all over your body into a delightful mix that only exacerbated your guilt. He knew he had you.

"That's what I thought," he laughed. "Now—"

Quickly, his hands moved toward your chest, dragged your bra down, and began to pinch your nipples, massaging your breasts and causing you to moan. Your hips increased their shallow rolls in an attempt to alleviate the pain. As you did, you felt what you could only suspect to be Jeongin's growing erection pressing into your ass. He definitely hiked up your skirt sometime before and was enjoying the sight of his clothed cock rubbing against your panty-clad behind.

"Innie! W-what are you—?"

"Oh, baby," he laughed and he rolled your buds between his fingers, making you whimper, "You say I'm distracting you from studying, but now your acting like such a little slut from only a few touches. You're so sensitive. I swear, you could be a virgin, hm?"

You dared not respond, only offering him a shy look as he continued to rub your chest.

"Oh," he giggled, "oh, of course you are. My sweet little goody-two-shoes hasn't had anyone touch her pussy yet, hm? My little virgin baby, yeah?"

"P-pussy?" you repeated, knowing that the word was dirty from the way it left a delictable taste in your mouth.

Jeongin mused, "My my, you are inexperienced." He let out a laugh that brought tears to your eyes, though it wouldn't be the first time he had made you cry. You were so frustrated and felt so strange and your panties were so wet and surely see-through and fuck! While your mind raged. Jeongin let one of his hands slip down your body and down your stomach, moving his other hand to grope the tit it had abandoned.

"Your pussy," Jeongin continued, ignoring your squirms and internal war, "is this right here."

Everything clicked as his fingers rubbed the damp white cotton into your pussy, rubbing up and down your folds with his middle and ring finger, slowly stopping to rub your clit and make your head spin. You glanced down, noticing how large his digits were and wondered how much he could stuff inside of you.

"Such an innocent fuck toy, never been used," he rambled, tongue licking the conch of your ear and making you whimper.

"J-Jeongin—I mean, Innie," you corrected. You could tell he was pleased by the way he hummed into your ears while he nibbled on the lobe, an action that should not make you want to moan as much as it should. "P-please stop touching me, it isn't appropriate.”

"But I thought I was helping you study, y/n," he pouted in a pouty tone, fingers never ceasing their motions. "Isn't this keeping me distracted? Isn't this helping you study? I need something to fiddle with, and you’re the perfect fucking stress toy for me." A particularly harsh rub into your panties and a tight grasp on your chest made you yelp. "Aren't you liking this, y/n? Liking me touching your soaking cunt? Fuck, you even soaked through your panties, how pathetic. " He spoke humorously through gritted teeth. He returned to slowly groping you, kissing down your neck loudly and rubbing his erection into your backside. You felt like you were going to explode.

"You are, aren’t you?" he panted as he rocked back and forth into you, drooling down your neck. "I thought you were a better student than this. I thought you were such a good girl who was put off by teasing. What did you call me again? A bully?" He said the word with joking vehemence; teasingly but backed by a viciousness that made you crumble. "Would a bully do nothing but defend you for four years? Would a bully beat up any fucking nerd who insulted your intelligence? Would a bully praise you and call you pretty only to be given the cold shoulder just ‘cause you didn’t believe it? Fuck, I wonder what the school board would think if they saw you like this, being fondled by a fucking bully." His words turned to mush in your head, your brain frenzying at his confession and his touches.

"Jeongin, please, I didn’t know! P-please, I just thought you didn’t l-like me, Jeongin. I thought you were m-mean and—ah!"

Your pleas were cut short as Jeongin stood up and shoved you forward, bending you over the table as his chair loudly scraped. He ripped—literally, ripped off your shirt at the seams, the sound filling the room along with your cries, with your bra being pulled off next. You were left in nothing but your shirt and tie: Jeongin wanted you to be at least a little dressed up for him when he claimed you. He grabbed your hair by the root and pulled your head up, making you release a sound that was a mixture of a cry and moan. The pain was unbearable, but the suffering mostly came from the absence of Jeongin's hands on you. At this point, you had realized that this feeling was some disgusting, perverted form of horniness directed at a man you hated. It made you feel dirty and desperate. But, most importantly, it made you feel in dire need of relief.

"I told you, y/n," Jeongin growled in that angry voice which didn't suit your impression of him, "that isn't my name." He released your hair and let your head fall to the table.

"I'm—I'm sorry," you begged as he moved the discarded books out from under you and threw them off the table. "P-please don't do anything mean!"

Funny. It was really funny to see you beg for him. It made him chuckle dryly before he hung himself over your back, once again pressing his chest into you—which you could feel was bare, meaning he must’ve removed it in the midst of things, leaving him in only his sweats.

"Oh, my innocent little baby," Jeongin panted into your ear, "you will be sorry." Jeongin's playful and perverted voice was matched by his hands slowly tugging down your panties, an action that caused you to chant a mantra of "no's" as your pussy was exposed to the cold air. Eventually, he had gotten impatient and tore the fabric up, an act that made tears fall from your eyes.

"Aw, don't worry, y/n," Jeongin humoured after seeing your lip tremble when he returned on top of you, caging you in and rubbing his clothed cock into your exposed cunt. "I'll take such good care of you after you learn a little lesson, yeah? Don't you just love to learn knew things, you fucking inexperienced little know-it-all?" You squirmed under him, begging for more and praying that he would give it to you. Yet, it seemed that patience offered itself to Jeongin when it pleased, and now he seemed to have all the time in the world.

Slowly, he rose his body from yours and rested his hands on your ass, rubbing the flimsy skirt and toying with your fat.

"Such a dumb fucking little virgin," he groaned as he let your pussy dampen the front of his sweats, pressing his throbbing dick into your needy cunt and making you whine. "Needs to learn a lesson."

Swiftly, his hand pulled away and slapped your ass.

"Innie!" You cried from the feeling, tears continuing to fall as his hand reached up and spanked you again, filling the library with lewd sounds to accompany your moans and his grunts.

"Say my fucking name again," he whispered with venom as he continued to spank you, enjoying how your ass reddened with each hit.

"Innie, Innie! Please stop!" You sobbed, making him laugh.

"Just—a few—more," he stated, marking every few words with a repeated spank. His other hand toyed with your ass, enjoying the softness and how your untouched flesh contrasted the growing blush on the other cheek.

"Y-yes—fuck! Yes, Innie!" You whimpered.

"God, such a fast learner," he grunted, continuing. "Aren't I helping you study, now? What if I helped you study every day, yeah? Licked your little cunt every time you got an answer right and then spanked you when you get one wrong? Maybe that'll help with your studying. Do you want a study buddy, y/n? Hm? Do you?"

"Yes, fuck I do!" You sniffled in defeat. "Only Innie, only Innie can teach me. Please!"

Finally, after a loud and particularly harsh spank from Jeongin accompanied by a satisfied grunt, he decided that your study session was over. He settled his large hand on your ass and rubbed the scarlet skin to try and coax you back down. Your back rose and fell while your knees buckled from the torture he had just put you through. You let out a sharp hiss and every time Jeongin's hand lovingly fondled the abused flesh. Jeongin, however, was beyond elated and relished your pain. In another demonstration of his strength, he flipped your body over like a ragdoll and pushed you onto the table so your legs hung over the edge. He then slotted himself between his legs and greeted your puffy face with a broad grin.

"Such a good little student for Innie," he teased. Pushing into you further, he let his cock press against your soaking cunt and further drench his sweatpants in your juices. The warmth of your bares chests pressing together made you smile while the squish of your breasts made Jeongin rejoice in being able to indulge in the plumpness of your body. He placed a layer of kisses from your forehead down your face, licking away your tears and shushing your sniffles.

"Did I do good?" You sniffled. Jeongin held his body over yours, blocking the light above with his broad, bare shoulders. He looked down at you with a mixture of emotions behind his eyes which were hard to discern, but were surely good-natured, regardless of his previous actions.

"Of course, y/n," he hummed, "so good." He let his hands roam up and down your bare thighs to reassure you, coaxing a smile out of you.

"Really?" You asked with a lightness you didn't expect as you reached up to cradle his face

"Absolutely," he chuckled while only moving to lay his hand over yours. He leaned down again and resumed his trail of kisses down your neck towards your chest. Your hands helped pull him down to you. You played with his thick locks before trailing your fingers down his back muscles.

"Such—a—smart—and—pretty—girl,” Jeongin cooed between every kiss to your chest. Each kiss between his words only increased your sense of pride and the neediness between your legs. The feelings only worsened when Jeongin finally attached his mouth to your nipple while he groped the other, suckling on you with a ferocity you didn't expect.

"F-fuck," you mewled as spit trickled down your chest.

"Are you ready to continue our lesson?" Jeongin asked while moving to suck on your other breast.

"Yes, Innie" you purred as you arched your back to meet his mouth. “Always ready for you.”

He chuckled and continued to satisfy you a bit longer, caught up in your moans and almost forgetting the pain of his erection as it desperately kneaded your cunt. Despite your small protests, he finally pulled himself away. Smiling at your pouty expression, he sauntered backward and stared at your limp body before speaking.

"Stand up."

It was embarrassing how fast you rose to the ground. You were only focused on following his orders, obeying him, needing more and fearing that you would get nothing if you were disobedient. You barely even noticed how naked you were until you felt the cool air meet your spit-covered tits. Yet, when you moved to cover yourself, you stopped when Jeongin gave a look that said “I am not afraid to bend you over my lap and spank you again.” He smiled when you let your arms drop to your sides.

"She's such a good girl," he muttered aloud, reaching out to pull you forward by your tie. Your eyes were only on him and his sweat-covered chest and dishevelled hair and raw lips that kissed your body so perfectly.

He let his thumb slide up your jaw as he tugged you to him, hand sliding up your cheek and holding your face before tilting your head up. Then, as if the punishment didn’t happen, as if this annoying study session didn’t happen, as if these past four years were just a fever dream that you had finally awakened from, he leaned down and captured your lips in his. He kissed you—truly kissed you—for the first time, but, surely, hopefully not the last time.

When he finally broke away, he studied your soft eyes and offered a small kiss to your forehead, as if he were sealing you as his and promising that "Yes, I am sorry for the way things were. I'm sorry that what began as meaningless teasing just for fun turned into a fucked up crush. I am sorry that I haven't told you until now. I'm sorry that I'm such a fucking perverted loser that I couldn't just tell the beautiful girl that I had a crush on for four years that I liked her. I'm sorry that it took four years just to kiss you. I’m sorry I kissed you under such circumstances. Just know that I want you. I want you, so deeply and so passionately, so please just drop to your knees and fucking suck my cock and let me kiss you and fuck you and hold you and let me be yours and you mine." Instead of speaking the words he wished, he simply changed his stare and licked his lips, catching the lingering taste of you on them.

"Wanna learn something new?" He asked rhetorically, thumb gliding on your lower lip. You didn't even respond to him. Not a nod or a hum. You simply just allowed your mouth to open and have his thumb slip in, immediately rubbing the digit with your tongue and soaking it in spit. You didn’t want to respond or even acknowledge the act, not when you waited four goddamn years to suck his fingers.

"I'll take that as a 'yes,'" Jeongin mused. "I think you can assume what I want you to do." In response, you just gave your head a slight shake, still warming his thumb with your tongue.

"Really?" He asked in a mocking voice that made you wildly embarrassed and red. "You really are just a dumb little toy waiting to be used. Such an eager baby that wants to learn, yeah?" This time, you gave him a slight nod. Your hand traced his abs and stroked each line, unsure of what to do but unable to remain still.

"Okay then. Guess I’ll have to give my baby step-by-step instructions, yeah?" he sighed. "Get on your knees."

Needless to say, you were shocked by the request. Though you were glass-eyed at this moment and almost choking on just the length of his thumb alone, you still had a working mind; one that was not distracted by Jeongin's eagerness pressing into your lower abdomen or how he looked at you or how much he wanted you or how fucking good his chest felt or how he shivered when your hand traced over his nipples. Despite all of this, you still had a conscience, and it told you to leave. It told you that this was an embarrassing turn of events that could only end badly and that you should run away, leaving him with his cock still hard and unsatisfied, then report him to the principal for bullying or public indecency or something! You knew that you should go.

Instead, you simply sank to your knees. You still suckled on Jeongin's thumb while he shakily exhaled a chorus of "you're such a good girl, such a good student, so smart, so sweet, so soft". Your hands trickled down his abs before rubbing the soft fabric of his sweatpants that you wanted so desperately to be removed. They hung off him proudly and lowly, kept up only by a measly tied knot and displaying his adonis belt that drew your eye line downwards. When you finally settled on your knees, your fingers and eyes traced down these lines and fiddled with the top of his sweatpants. Your fingers then traced lower until your hand palmed his heavy erection, unsure of what to do as you massaged the length. He was so stiff and long and big and—

Oh. He was big. Even in your inexperience, you knew it. It must have been a good few inches above average. You gulped at his size, in awe of his length that he was done so well to hide.

"Remember what you said earlier?" He asked, removing his thumb from your pop mouth so he could cup your jaw. He tried to tilt your head up, but it was too difficult with your eyes fixated on the heavy, large bulge that protruded from his pants.

"C'mon baby, remember what you said? Use your big girl memory and tell me," he cooed. Your hands rubbed up and down his thighs while your hips rutted against nothing, the pressure between them building exponentially due to neglect. He tilted your head again, meeting your big doe eyes and forcing your focus away from his strained hard-on.

"Innie," you choked out, fingers teasing the hem of his pants. "Hands... so big... so you must be..." He let you trail off and allowed your faze to return to his pants as they transfixed on the prominent outline of his cock and the stain on the fabric right at his tip.

"That stupid fucking theory about noses being indicators of size," he continued with a smile on his face, "is just that: a stupid fucking theory."

As if answering your prayers, he used his spare hand to slip the knot off. Then, with a small tug, he slowly lowered his pants enough, just enough to let his cock slip out. In turn, you were blessed with the picture-perfect image of his cock.

"Don't I prove that what you say about big hands is true, y/n?"

You just gave him a dumb nod, too needy to formulate proper words. However, he didn't need you to speak: he knew he was correct.

You always had a thing for his hands, but they were nothing compared to his cock. But together, when his large hands held his immaculately big, veiny, pulsing dick made your mouth water and dribble fall down your lips. His tip was red and leaking precum, begging to be touched or fucked or given some goddamn attention. He offered himself a few pumps, hissing as his heavy erection dripped fluids that you tried to catch desperately on your tongue. It wasn't enough. You needed more.

"Innie," you mewled, catching his attention.

"Y/n," he gasped as he stared down at your teary-eyed expression that was so cute and obviously needed to be rewarded.

"Please," you mumbled with embarrassment, "teach me." Your hand then went overtop of his and tightened around it, subsequently tightening the grip on his dick and making him moan a little louder than what he was comfortable with.

"Y/n, f-fuck," he whimpered as he pinched his eyes. With your eyes still transfixed on his hot tip, you pulled his hand off his cock and allowed both of your hands to hold him, heat radiating off of his length and precum coating your hands until they were glossy. You pumped it slowly, just as he did, mimicking the motion and unknowingly teasing him more than he would like.

"B-baby, please just suck it," he panted. You glanced up at him again and felt the drool pooling out of your mouth and collecting on your tongue. Then, with great hesitation, you pressed your tongue against him and licked up his slit, causing Jeongin to release a shaky grown that was soaked in pleasure.

"J-just like that—fuck!"

Your hands kept a steady pace while stuck your tongue out, giving him persistent and repeated licks. Each time you re-coated his cockhead in slobber and coaxed more profanities out of him. Still, you maintained a steady pace and dared not to increase your speed. You wanted to hear him beg and cry and whine like this forever.

"Fuck, y/n, take more of it in your mouth," he begged as his hands rested on your head and tangled in your hair. Yet, due to your dumb state and how good he sounded, you struggled to obey him

"Oh, right," he panted out, "you need to be shown how to do everything. My baby is just a little dumb student who needs to be taught. She needs to learn how to suck Innie’s cock like a good girl, right Y/n?" You simply hummed in response, continuing to pump and milk him. Jeognin’s hand found stability on the back of your head and balled your hair once again. The pull made you moan and the strain burned just as delectable as it did before.

"Now, open your mouth wide," he chuckled. You obeyed him like the dumb fucking slut you were and allowed your jaw to go slack, still rubbing your tongue on the underside of his tip and making him swallow back a moan.

"Good," he praised in a strained voice. "Now, take it." Suddenly, he pushed your head forward and forced your mouth to take his cock, gagging on his girth and soaking him in warmth. The intrusion made you hum loudly and for you to tighten your grip on his pulsing length Jeongin, on the other hand, was completely oblivious to your teary-eyed gags and continued to shove himself into you, inch by inch.

"G-good job," he whimpered in a low voice that he hoped he couldn't hear, "so warm." Though you could barely breathe and your mind was shocked by the act, you still felt yourself dripping onto the hardwood floor below you. Despite your confusion, your tongue and hands seemed to know what to do. As you gagged on him, the wet muscle rubbed up and down on any part of his cock it could reach while your hands pumped what your throat couldn't take.

"J-just like that," Jeongin hummed. He pulled your head back then and allowed you to take a deep breath in before pushing you down again. Shallow thrusts allowed him to push deeper into you and fluids to leak from your mouth onto the floor below you. Lewd, wet sound accompanied your gags, making Jeongin beyond elated.

"Y-You're the best student, y/n," he hoarsely whispered. "So smart and you've learned to let me fuck your mouth so easily. Such a fast learner, such a g-good, good girl for her Innie, yeah?" You could do little but hum along.

"Aw, does my baby want to breathe?" He asks through pants, to which you replied with an eager hum. He pulled you off his cock and you immediately gasped for air, hands leaving him to wipe the drool off your face and dry your tears.

"Better?" He asked, a mixture of sincerity and domineering sadism coating his voice.

"Y-yes, Innie," you responded feebly. He smiled at your answer.

"Good." He then changed his expression to a stern look and released your hair, letting you settle on your knees and take a few deep breaths.

"Next step," he began as he lifted his cock up and harshly grabbed your wrist to hold it up yourself. After placing the heavy cock in your hand, Jeongin then grabbed the other hand and forced you to cup his balls, unchanging in his expression or demeanour. He stared into you and you stared into him. He tutted and cooed at your expression which eagerly awaited instruction, begging to know what to do.

"Suck them. Now."

The order was processed in your head and left you spinning. Yet, you immediately obliged. After all, you didn't want to disappoint Jeongin. He thought you were a fast learner and he wanted to train his stupid slut as best he could. If you wanted him to be proud of you, then you had to prove him right. As such, your tongue left quick kitten licks his balls and the underside of his cock. Jeongin, through whines and moans, began to pet your head and encouraged you, s if he was begging instead of trying to dominate you.

"N-now," he stuttered out, "Pump me, fuck my cock with your hand, y/n." Your hand picked up a fast pace that glided over his slick cock and only deepened the desperation in Jeongin's voice.

"Shit.” He gaped at how well you did it, how well you obeyed him. You even began to take control, going back to suck his tip while your hands fondled the parts your mouth couldn't satisfy.

"M-missed the taste of my cock yeah? Missed how my pre-cum tasted on your tongue?" He rambled as you pumped him eagerly and sucked harshly. Sweat dripped down his forehead and a blush spread down his chest from you. He couldn't help but speak when he got like this: he praised everything you did and began to tell you everything he wished to say.

"Oh, y/n, I w-wished you knew why I teased you," he confessed through pants, "I wished you realized how much I like to annoy you, to get your attention, to tease you—mmh, fuck! All my friends know why I do it... every day they ask why I don't just go up to you and tell you why. But I could never seem to." Your mouth parted from his tip, your hand quickly replacing it, so you could properly look at the man who towered over you.

"Why... why didn't you do it, Innie?" you asked, voice still hoarse from when he made you take his cock.

"Because," he gasped out as he tried to steady himself. "Because... I like to tease you, to make you notice me. I just w-want you to notice me, you sweet thing, and take care of me like you are now. And you know what? I think that—f-fuck—I think you like it when I tease you, too." He was not wrong, and the ruined floor with the clothes and books on it was evidence. But, you also knew that he was right because here you were, sucking his cock and balls and choking on it with the greatest pleasure. You wanted him just as much as he wanted you. You wanted him to do things to you that you were too embarrassed to think about even in solitude.

You impatiently returned to his length, each lap of your tongue and stroke of your hand making his moans louder.

"Y/n," he groaned. "Y/n, y/n, y/n—" His voice got quicker as your motions increased in speed and determination. "Fuck d-don't stop, such a good girl! Perfect fucking mouth for me, perfect, so smart, such a tease—god!"

Suddenly, his hand pushed your head and his cock was shoved down your throat, mouth hugging him as his hips made shallow thrusts into you and gags erupted from your stuffed throat.

"Y/n, y/n, baby, y/n, swallow, swallow, please—" his chants were high pitched as he continued to rutt into your mouth, "—so tight so warm, I— I—I can't—hmph!" Jeongin pressed himself into you as far as he could while his hips twitched, causing you to choke but not dare pull away, not now, not when you were doing such a good job. Your mouth—reddened and swore from Jeogin's abuse—now leaked his cum that couldn't be swallowed.

"That—that, I—" Jeongin stammered unintelligibly. Ever the gentleman, Jeongin pulled you off his cock and watched the remaining liquid gush from your mouth. The cum trickled onto your tits and worn tie, making you squirm and for Jeongin to take a shaky breath.

"So, so precious," he muttered through exhausted pants. You stared up at him, coughing from the misuse of your throat and the need for air. Still, you felt strange: needy, unsatisfied, like you needed the same release Jeongin did.

"Innie, I need—"

"Please, rest, baby," he cooed, stroking your hair absent-mindedly as his still-hard cock pathetically dribbled out cum. You licked your lips at the sight: the taste of his juices still lingered on your mouth.

"No, no, I..." You pawed at his hands and gripped his wrists lightly. The act took him out of his trance and look down at you. You were sleeked in sweat and cum, your thighs were pressed together tightly and coated in slick. You bounced with impatience, wanting more and more and not knowing how to ask for it. However, Jeongin may be stupid and a jerk, but even he slowly pieced together what you wanted.

"Y/n, you—"

"Innie," you urged as you started to pull him down towards you. As you pulled him lower, you laid on your back, bringing him down with you. "Innie, please."

"Y/n, you should rest—" Jeongin tried to argue while he sank to his knees and placed his palm on the floor to steady himself.

"No." When he tried to argue again, you placed your mouth on his and pulled him fully on top of you on the library floor. When your lips finally parted, Jeongin stared at you with hopeful eyes.

"Please," you sobbed. You grasped one of his hands and slowly guided it down between your bodies, rutting against it as soon as it was close enough to your cunt. "Innie, please make it go away."

Jeongin smiled. Who was he to say no to you?

His hand immediately found your clit and began rubbing tight circles on it, making you writhe and whimper.

"F-Fuck, it feels so good," you mewled. Your pussy was gushing from the contact and it only became wetter when Jeongin licked his cum off of your chest. Bite marks and bruised skin were left behind in their stead, eager lips nipping at untouched skin. Though you hated being marked up and worried that it would show, you couldn't protest. Not when it felt this good, not when he was doing it.

Jeongin relished touching you, as well. He rubbed his cock onto your thigh while whimpering into each kiss. It was as if kissing you brought him to life, as if all of those years of teasing and picking on you had been worth it because he could fucking finally express his passion for you in a way that satisfied you both. Ever since he first saw you in the tight, ill-fitting uniform, he knew he wanted to be yours. Soon that feeling developed into the perverted dire need to bend you over the nearest surface and fuck you from behind. Now, as he was kissing down your chest, and fingered your perfect, tight hole, he knew he was so close to what he wanted.

"Fuck, I," he gasped out between kisses, "I can't." Unexpectedly, he sat up and fully slotted himself between your legs. Before you could protest, however, you found your knees pressed to your chest, your skirt bunched around your waist, and Jeongin was rubbing his cock through your folds.

"Jeongin!" You yelped.

"J-just the tip," he whined. "Innie is gonna put just the tip in and then he is gonna take such good care of you. He just needs the tip, just a little bit, just needs to feel his precious little baby, just needs the tip just—hmph! Fuck! Y/n, baby, t-take it."

Even if it was just his tip, you knew you were too tight for him. Just his cockhead alone was stretching you out. But, the pain, just like how he pulled your hair or spanked your ass or choked you, was amazing. Though you protested, it was all just for show: to rile him up or to maintain some semblance of propriety. Truly, you never wanted him to stop.

"I-Innie! It's too big! I can't— I can't it's too big— fuck!" You stammered as continued to push himself into you, filling you with more than he had promised. Your voice made him whine and push his face into the nape of your neck. Immediately, he began to nip and kiss your neck in a feeble attempt to control himself. Yet, as he plugged you, he knew that he couldn't resist. You just felt too good, too sweet, too soft, too warm, too wet, and too perfect to just put his tip in. With every shaky breath, he tried to control himself, but he just couldn't. After only a few seconds, he began to stuff you full.

"Innie! What are you—"

"It's j-just the tip, just a little more." His muffled stutters vibrated against your skin, "I just n-need you, just need my g-good little baby to fuck this cock and be good for Innie and take what I give her. Let me fuck your perfect cunt and fill your pussy with my cum. You'd like that, to be filled with my c-cum?" Jeongin was almost fully inside of you and viciously rubbed your clit with every centimetre. You had never felt so full in your life.

"C-cum, Innie's cum?" You repeated naively.

"Yeah, just my cum. Only mine, only Innie's. You're m-mine, just mine only I get to fill this with my cum. Yeah?" He rose and looked down at you, lips ghosting over yours. As he stared down at you, it was hard to pinpoint what he felt. Sure, there was the deliciousness of corrupting your naivety, being the first one to fuck your cunt, and how every inch that entered you made you moan louder and with more desperation. However, at that moment, as he glanced down into your eyes which were always so sweet, he was overcome by the dire need to protect you. He wanted nothing more than to love you and have you as his, more than he'd ever wanted before. His cock eased into you, your breasts were covered in his slobber, you had swallowed his cum, his dick was twitching from overstimulation, and all he could think of was how lovely you looked.

"Yes," you sniffled, "only for you, Jeongin, my Innie."

"Oh, y/n," he panted. His lips captured yours and kissed them softly, contrasting the quick friction against your clit and the stretch of your cunt accommodating his cock.

Then he pushed himself into you, impatience getting the best of him.

"Fuck!" You both whined at the same time: Jeongin from the feeling of your tight cunt hugging him so well, and you from how you were filled to the brim with him. His hands moved to your inner thighs, spreading them to allow himself to rest between them and hug his waist. He eagerly gripped the soft flesh to try and control himself. Softly, his thumbs rubbed your skin and he let out strained moans. Your eyes were pinched shut and, with your legs free, you wrapped them around his torso and pulled him into you. As you did, he pushed a little deeper, only a little, but you rejoiced in the sensation. You feared that if pulled out of you, you would crumble. It was all too much too soon, too fast and too good to let it end too quickly. Clawing at his back with tears streaming down your cheeks, each breath brought you closer to him.

"It's too much... Innie I-I can't I—"

"Please, please, y/n." The desperation in his voice made your eyes open and stare at him. His face had reburied in your chest and it took everything in him to look up at you. As soon as you saw the look on his face, you knew that it was too much for him too.

"Let me make you f-feel good," he panted as he pressed his forehead into yours, "j-just a little, just take it, p-please." He didn't wait for your response as he pulled out a little, clamping his eyes shut from the feeling of dragging his cock out of you and hissing to refrain from immediately pounding back into you.

"Shit, it f-feels so good," you sniffled as he eased back in.

"Yeah? I told you. S-such a d-dumb baby, so dumb for my cock." His voice made you whine and your hands go up to knot themselves in his hair, pulling it slowly as his hips found a peaceful rhythm that contradicted the merciless lust it made you feel.

"So dumb," you mindlessly repeated, "such a s-stupid fucking baby for Innie." Your words hitched as he made a particularly harsh thrust into you.

"Innie,” you asked in a small voice, “d-do you like it when I say that?"

Jeongin panted, trying to control himself, "Y/n, I—"

"You like to know I'm dumb, yeah? My stupid little pussy n-not know how to handle your big, veiny fucking c-cock?"

"Fuck, please, don't edge me," he strained through gritted teeth and with fingers dinging harshly into your thighs.

"T-teach me, teach me to how to fuck your cock."

He didn't intend to pick up the pace as quickly as he did. Nor did he mean to make his thrusts so harsh with such a lack of control that you moaned with each push and pull of his heavy dick. But, when it came to you, he couldn't control himself.

"I'm—gonna—fill—you—with—my—cum," he growled as he pistoned into you. His hands moved to your outer thighs, occasionally spanking them and enjoying each jiggle of fat with every thrust into you.

"Fuck, slow—please s-slow down," you sobbed as your tits dragged across his chest, your overly sensitive nipples. Jeongin, however, just chuckled, his laughs dying out quickly as they were replaced by quick breaths. His eyes became dark again and his grip on you tightened, sweat mixing with your own as precum made a white ring around his cock.

"Just know that it's gonna spill out of you, that I'm g-gonna fill you up every day and keep you stuffed with it," he whimpered as his hips rolled faster, making his eyes pinch shut. "So warm inside of you, leaking out and just waiting for me to stuff it all back in and cum again and again and again and again."

"Innie, it's too much, " you responded dumbly. Jeongin didn't care. He just loved to hear his petname come out in little whimpers. His eyes opened again slowly, taking you in. Fuck, you looked so cute and fucked out, so close yet still begging for more.

"What's my name? Say it," he demanded with a stern glare.

"I-Innie..."

"Say it again—fuck, say it again, baby," he gasped.

"Innie!" You responded on command, like a dog being asked to bark.

"F-fuck, please, y/n, one more time just once more please!" He panted as his cock dragged and drove into you at an unforgiven pace.

"Innie, Innie fuck me, please baby, Innie, fuck!" You whimpered

"Fuck, it makes you blush. Getting all embarrassed and flustered... I make you blush, huh? My pretty baby, my innocent y/n, so cute—shit!" Jeongin's voice suddenly caught in his throat as he felt you tighten around him. While his veiny cock pulsed with each thrust, your warm cunt throbbed as you felt that strange feeling build and build inside of you. One of his hands moved back to your neglected clit and started to circle it quickly, making you pant like the needy bitch you were.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck—ah! Y/n, baby, s-stop clenching or I'll—I'll—"

"Innie," you sniffled softly, your voice soaked in desperation. "P-please, make me cum. P-please, for me? Please!" You couldn't believe the words that left your mouth. Neither did Jeongin.

"Y/n, I'm—fuck—I'm gonna—" his thrusts became sloppy and your jaw went slack as you felt lust building to an inordinate degree.

"I'm gonna— Innie— fuck!"

"Y/n, my baby, my sweet b-baby I— cum, cum!"

"Innie!"

Your cunt began to pulsate and your back arched. The feeling was unimaginable, like nothing you could ever describe. It came over you quickly and suddenly, in a tremendous wave that you wish would last forever. Jeongin, in a brief moment of clarity, pulled out of you and rubbed his soaking cock quickly, letting out occasional and short grunts as he fucked his hand. Then, his hips stilled and cum began to spill out of his tip, coating your stomach and cunt in his cum. Yet, you hardly noticed: you were too-fucked out to care.

Riding your orgasm, you sank to the floor and Jeongin collapsed on top of you. Both of you took deep breaths and he dropped his head against yours, eyes shut in ecstasy. His hands lazily dragged up your body before resting on your face. He pet the sides of your jaw and drew your eyes open to meet his. Seeing your eyes was like seeing a home dock in a storm. He pressed his lips into yours and stole your breath away again.

The kiss—unlike the moments leading up to it—was slow, soft. It took its time and ended only when you two were satisfied. After being brought down to reality, Jeongin pulled away and brushed some hair out of your face.

"Y/n," he softly said.

"Jeongin, Innie," you said back, twirling with his sweaty locks and massaging the nape of his neck.

"We..." he panted out before taking a look around, "We gotta clean this place up and get the fuck out of here."

You stared at him in awe before cracking a smile.

---

You felt weird walking in with Jeongin and his gang on Tuesday. Gang? Maybe like "gaggle of friends that constantly annoy you but you are now stuck with and quickly learning to love." Needless to say, it felt like all eyes were on you. Actually, it was true. Teachers, students, faculty, everyone: no one could believe that the top student was now walking hand-in-hand with someone who held the reputation for being the school's worst student.

Despite being an outspoken and confirmed hater of Yang Jeongin, here you were: walking in next to him, with his arm slung around you, and blushing at his cute jokes. God, when did Jeongin become cute?! What a horrid thing to think, let alone believe. Yet, you knew it. He was cute. And now, the whole school knew that you thought so. Or, at least, that's what your giggles insinuated.

Maybe you always thought he was cute and now you allowed yourself to believe it, like those intrusive thoughts were actually right all along, and, yes, you did actually think he was incredibly sweet and handsome, and likely the best boyfriend. It's only been four days but he already has promised to walk you to and from school every day and has dates pre-planned with you up until graduation. He hasn't told you about the latter part yet, but he will soon enough. He just needs to wait until you're a little more comfortable with him before he confesses how much he absolutely adores you.

Being an "it" couple was not on your goal list for high school. Come to think of it, being stared at when you walk with your boyfriend and losing your virginity to him a mere four days before in the school library was not on the list either. Oh, how plans change. Somehow, however, you didn't mind the stares. Though most were shocked at how Jeongin had bagged the school's nerdiest (and hottest) girl, how that girl—who hated the man—now gleamed at him with adoration, and how they ever managed to get together in the first place, the most shocking element was the fact that your uniform was not up to code. Every day for the past few years, you were a picture-perfect student with pressed dress shirts, even ties, and cleanly pleated skirts. Now, your tie was loose and you were even wearing a hoodie—fuck, his, hoodie?! Jesus.

As you walked to class, you couldn't care less. Jeongin escorted you to first period, giving you a sweet kiss on the cheek and almost smiling at how cute you looked all wrapped in his hoodie. Your fellow students—hell, even the teacher—seemed bewildered by the interaction.

You, however, barely acknowledged them. You just noticed the man in front of you in a light that was so starkly different from the past four years.

"Got everything, yeah?" He said with a straight face.

"Yes, Innie," you smiled, making him glance away.

"I told you—" he started in a voice that was a little too loud, making him dart around to see if anyone was looking his way. And, of course, everyone was looking at you two because how could they not? The eyes on him made him uneasy, but when he turned back to you, all those uncomfortable feelings disappeared into nothing. He licked his lips anxiously and leaned in, adopting a hushed voice to try and retain a morsel of privacy. "I told you not to call me that in public, baby," he blubbered, "it ruins my image. Please, baby."

God, was he blushing? Fuck, he was perfect.

"Okay, Innie," you teased, making him ever redder. You stressed his nickname and relished in his embarrassed demeanour.

Huh. Maybe Jeongin had been right all along: teasing was fun, especially if it was done on the person you liked the most.

"Promise me you'll go to class, okay? I'll see you in last period, then we'll keep working on the project," you said.

"Ugghhghhhhh.." he groaned with a long-winded exasperation. "UGH... Okay."

"Great!" You smiled mischievously, "And we'll actually have to work on it. Unlike all those other times we... 'worked on the project' together this weekend."

"Y/n." His blush grew from his ears down his neck, still unable to make eye contact with you. You'd think that years of teasing you made him impervious to sly remarks, but when they're coming from you, well that's a different story.

"Why are you acting like this?! It was your fault in the first place!" You huffed with an air of playfulness. "I just wanna remind you that we won't be alone in the library this time!"

"Just... g-get to class, okay?" He stuttered, "I'll see you later, baby." Extending his hand out in a half-heart shape, you completed it with a giggle, adoring how small your hands were compared to your boyfriend’s. Then, Jeongin softly wrapped his hand around yours and pulled you in, offering you a kiss to your forehead. When he pulled away, he readjusted your glasses as they had slipped down your nose bridge.

"Perfect," he said with a small voice. With a final giggle from you, he watched you go into class.

Now there was the issue of what to do with his day. Normally, he'd spend first period smoking outside with his friends, wait until second period for the cafeteria to start serving pizza, go to third just to eat, then go to fourth period just to see you.

Now.. fuck. He was actually going to class. He hated how you were already having an effect on his lifestyle, but rejoiced that you operated in a position that dictated his life. If he was to be controlled, he would want you to be the one pulling the strings. Jeongin seemed to see you for who you really were: determined, intelligent, and perfect to coddle. Looking at you even had an effect on him, one that he could now proudly display instead of hiding behind bullying and teasing (not to say he’ll stop teasing you anytime soon).

As he slung himself into his assigned seat for first period, his surprise was mirrored on the teacher's face. God. Despite having only a few days passed since you two got together, you were already changing him to a noticeable degree. Yet, it was for the better. And he smiled knowing that if he was changing, that it was for good and that it was for you.

#jeongin smut #I.n. smut #yang jeongin smut #yang jeong x reader #jeongin x plus size reader #jeongin x y/n #i.n. x reader #stray kids smut #skz smut

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feelbokkie · 1 month

Text

Sorry, I Love You | Chapter 11

pairing: Jeongin x fem reader

genre/warnings: smau, crack, angst, fluff, non!idol au, friends to lovers, unrequited love, will they, won’t they dynamic, abusive relationship, alcohol abuse/alcoholism, emotional/psychological abuse

pov: 1st/2nd person (depending on how you view it)

warnings: Swearing, Soobin mention, mention of food, drinking/alcohol (drink responsibly)

summary: Jeongin is in love with his best friend and he has been ever since he met her back in high school. He’s not sure how Y/n feels about him and in order to persevere their friendship, it’s a secret he keeps to himself. But when Y/n starts showing interest in one of their new neighbors, Jeongin starts to worry about the future of their relationship.

taglist: CLOSED

word count: 4,836

screenshot count: 19

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"Uh-huh...Seung--Seungmin-" You wedge your phone between your face and shoulder as you run around your apartment getting your things ready.

"--I just think editing-wise, we can do a whole thing with color filters for mood--" Seungmin continues on the other end of the call.

"Seungmin, that's a good idea but--"

Knock knock

"Should we do that artificially with a filter in post or should we try to mess with the lighting? Lighting might look more natural but harder to produce since a lot of the film is outdoors--"

You drop your bag on your couch and roll your eyes before heading over to your front door, praying that Seungmin isn't on the other side. You love him, you really do, but he's been pestering you nonstop since the start of winter break about the film. You didn't even mean to answer his call. You were so busy getting ready to leave that you instinctively answered the phone without checking.

"That's a really good point and question, but Seungmin I have to--"

You pull open the door to find Jeongin standing on the other side. You raise an eyebrow at him, confused as to why he's even there. You thought he went home to Busan after his last final for the semester. But here he is, standing in front of you with his hands shoved into the pockets of his thick, black puffer jacket. A dark blue beanie sits on his head, pressing his bangs to his forehead. The bottoms of his blue jeans are soaked from walking through the snow. Or rather the slush on the floor that gives the false illusion of snow. You made the mistake of jumping into what you thought was a snow pile the other day and instead slipped into an unsuspecting ice puddle.

"Y/n? Are you listening to me? I'm trying to bounce ideas off of you and you're not throwing anything back." You can almost picture the pout sitting on Seungmin's face right now.

"Am I allowed to talk now?" You ask as you wave for Jeongin to come in.

"Who is that?" Jeongin asks, closing the door behind him and kicking off his shoes.

"Seungmin," You whisper back, holding the phone away from your face so he couldn't hear you. You can only imagine the rant Seungmin will go on if he thought you were ignoring him to talk to someone else.

Jeongin wastes no time yanking your phone out of your hand and putting it to his ear. "Hey, Seungmin, it's winter break. Go drink some hot chocolate and chill the hell out."

"But--" Jeongin ends the call before Seungmin can continue and hands you back your phone.

You stare at your phone for a second, waiting for Seungmin to call back before tossing it on the couch with your stuff. You take Jeongin by the hand and drag him over to the heater.

“Here, before you get hypothermia.” You mutter as you pull him to sit down.

“I’m not going to get hypothermia from the ends of my pants being wet, Y/n.” He laughs. Still, he sits on the ground to humor you.

You pull a blanket from your couch, the one that Lia made you for Christmas last year after complaining about how cold the winter is, and toss it around his shoulders. “Oh? Are you an expert on hypothermia?”

“It’s called common sense, idiot.” He smirks, lightly flicking your forehead.

“If you had any common sense, you would have rolled up your pant legs a bit to avoid this.” You crawl over to your couch and grab your phone to check the time, “I thought you went home like everyone else.”

“I decided to hang back and enjoy the quiet at the apartment. My parents don’t care as long as I’m back in time for midnight mass. Plus my brothers are annoying so staying here is a bonus.”

You swear under your breath when you realize how little time you have to get to the airport You toss your phone into your bag and triple-check that you have everything you need. "Not to be rude or anything, but you couldn't have come at a worse time, Innie."

"You have to go pick up your family from the airport, right?" You glance over at Jeongin as you slip your bag over your head. He's staring at you upside down, his head thrown backward. His round-rimmed black, lensless glasses slowly fall off his face.

"Yeah, and their flight is somehow early so I need to leave like, yesterday."

“Let’s go,” Jeongin slowly stands up and starts walking towards the front door.

“What?”

“Did you think I came here to spend time with you?” He says flatly.

The twitch in the corner of his mouth threatening to break into a smile gives him away. It's barely noticeable, but you know it's there. You've been friends with him long enough to be able to read him like a book. If you wait a little longer, he'll start to smile and then turn his head quickly so you don't see. His ears will turn red and he'll cover his mouth like he was trying to wipe it.

"You have nothing better to do than to drive me to pick up my family from the airport during break?" You question as you grab your apartment keys and meet him by the door.

"Didn't you know?" Jeongin leans down, placing his head on your shoulder, "I was placed on this earth to be your chauffeur. I'm fulfilling my one true purpose."

You slightly move to meet his eyes, careful to still keep your distance. You can feel the heat from his breath on your cheek. He looks at you with puppy dog eyes so soft and kind, they put a begging Kim Seungmin to shame.

"You're so fucking weird." You laugh, gently pushing him off your shoulder. His face feels warm against the palm of your hand. "This is why we need to get you a girlfriend. Someone to make you normal."

Jeongin opens the door and softly pushes you outside. You tighten the scarf around your neck as the cool air nips at your nose. "I'm normal enough around you."

"That is such a lie," You laugh again as he walks out of your apartment. You double-check that the door is locked and follow Jeongin to his car.

***

**Bold = English; Regular font = Korean**

You push in the door to your apartment and walk in first, holding the door open for your parents, brother, and Jeongin. It feels weird having your family in your apartment for the first time. In the four years you've lived in Korea, they've never been over once. Neither of your parents could take off time when you first moved and your brother was too busy moving back to his campus to help. They've seen your apartment in video calls and pictures, but having them standing in your tiny apartment is strange. For the longest time, it felt like you had two lives, one in South Korea and one back home. And now, both of those worlds are colliding. Even if it's only for a couple of weeks.

"Y/n, where do you want me to put these?" Jeongin asks, holding some of your mother's luggage.

"Just put it in my room, In. Thank you," You neatly organize everyone's shoes by the door, watching your family from the corner of your eyes. They took off their shoes when they came in, but their courtesy ends there as they now wander around the small apartment, opening doors and cabinets.

"You'd think with how much I'm paying for the place, it would be a bit bigger." Your father comments from the kitchen.

"It felt small at first, but it's just me so it's fine." You reassure him as you set your brother's things next to the couch. "You and mom are going to be in my room, by the way."

"Oh honey, you didn't have to give up your bed for us." Your mother coos, coming up behind you.

You know in the deepest crevice in your heart that, that's a lie. That if you didn't give your parents your room and instead gave them the pull-out couch that your brother is going to sleep on, she would fuss about it the entire time. Maybe even the rest of your life. Not in an obvious way, no that would be too kind. She'd make little comments about how her back hurts or how she could hardly get any sleep because she could hear the neighbors walking in the hallway. Or that the kitchen faucet kept her up all night. You love your mother, but sometimes she knows how to push all your buttons in the worst way possible.

"Y/n," Jeongin walks out of your room and makes his way over to you. "I'm going to head home now. Call me if you need anything."

"By home, you better mean Busan." You warn as you walk him to the door.

"What fun would that be? Plus, I've never experienced Seoul during Christmas." He grins at you as he pulls his shoes back on.

"And you're not going to this year. You said you're going back for midnight mass." You remind him.

"I can come back on Christmas day. I told you that we do everything on Christmas Eve since Christmas Day is Jesus' birthday. Something about greed and keeping it holy. I'm not going to miss out on anything," He stands up and readjusts his clothes.

"Yang Jeongin--"

"Oh, Y/n, is your friend leaving? Tell...what's his name again?" Your mother asks, coming up next to you.

"My name is Bob, ma'am." Jeongin stands up, extending his hand out to your mother.

"Be so fucking serious--" You glare at Jeongin before turning to your mother. "His name is Jeongin, mom."

"Jeongin, right. Tell Jeongin to stay for lunch at least. As a thank you for picking us up." Your mother places her hand on your shoulder, a large smile plastered on her face.

"Oh, it is okay. Enjoy family time." Jeongin reassures her.

"We insist. It's the least we can do. Think of it as a thank you for also taking care of my daughter."

"What are you doing?" You whisper.

"If it is okay with Y/n?"

"I'm being polite," Your mother whispers through a smile.

"You know how to do that--ow!" You rub your arm where your arm pinched you and pout at her.

"I didn't get to meet your other boyfriend, I'm going to meet this one." She finally admits.

"He's not my boyfriend. He's just my friend." You nearly shout.

"He knows his way around your apartment." She hums, not breaking eye contact with Jeongin.

"That's because he's my best friend, he spends a lot of time here. Hell, he practically lives here."

"He does what?" Your father asks, coming back into the living room.

"Kill me," You mutter under your breath, tossing your head back.

"If you insist, I'll stay for lunch. If that's okay with Y/n." Jeongin smiles at your mom, not even looking at you. He's good with moms, you'll give him that. You've witnessed him win over every single one of your friends' moms that you've met. It's impossible not to like him, but in this instance, you wish it was.

"What are you doing?" Your head snaps back up, raising an accusing eyebrow at Jeongin.

"She invited me for lunch." Jeongin tilted his head innocently.

"She's clearly jetlagged, don't listen to her." You groan.

"You're overreacting, it's just lunch." He laughs politely.

"And the twelve disciples thought the last supper was just dinner."

"That's blasphemous,"

"You're so right. Why don't you go home before I drag you to hell with me? Better yet, go all the way to Busan."

"Lover's quarrel?" Your brother pops up out of who knows where and drops down on the couch behind you.

Five minutes. It takes your family five minutes in your apartment, a grand total of twenty-five minutes in South Korea in general, for your family to completely drive you up the wall. It all floods back, why you left in the first place. You could have attended film school back home, but you decided to move as far as you could and somewhere they wouldn't have any interest in visiting. You wouldn't have to deal with them much outside of weekly phone calls. Your family could be worse, but the constant meddling in your life is enough to drive you insane.

Annoyed, you grab Jeongin's hand and drag him off to the kitchen. His fingers are stiff in your hand, almost like he's unsure if he should wrap his fingers around your hand. "C'mon, Bob, let's go make lunch."

"I'm...I'm not allowed in the kitchen," He stammers.

"Don't worry, I'm not an idiot. You're not going to cook anything." You let go of his hand as soon as you are far enough in the kitchen. You finally turn around to face him. His ears are as red as the shirt poking out from under his jacket. "I'm just saving you from my family interrogating you."

"I wouldn't mind," He coughs, rubbing the back of his neck.

"You say that now," You roll your eyes as you grab the apron next to him. You grab one of your spare aprons and hand it to him. "But trust me, after like 2 minutes along with them, you'd be begging me to save you."

"It can't be that bad."

"Speaking of bad," You toss the apron on and tie the string in the back, looking him in the eyes again, "When did you get so good at English?"

"I've been practicing," He follows suit and puts his apron on.

"For?" You walk past him and begin getting ingredients from your fridge.

"...My...resume." He mutters.

"What kind of reasoning is that? You aren't even that prepared for class."

"His name is Bob?" You hear your brother asking your parents.

You let out a deep sigh as you set everything on the counter, "Idiots, both of you."

***

"Mom and dad are asleep, let's go out." Your brother says, walking back into the kitchen where you and Jeongin are talking.

Somehow, lunch turned into dinner which turned into the five you you playing card games until your parents decided to call it for the night. You're exhausted too, although, you're not sure if it's from all the translating you've been doing or just the overall energy you've been exerting for the day.

"And do what, exactly?" You question, dealing out the cards that Jeongin just shuffled.

"Isn't there a place around here that's popular for clubs and stuff?" Your brother sits down in the seat next to you. He rests his head in the palm of his hand and stares at the both of you.

"Are you talking about Hongdae?" Jeongin asks, picking up his deck.

"Yeah, yeah, Häagen-Dazs!" Your brother says happily.

"There is no way in hell you heard him and thought he said Häagen-Dazs--How are we related?" You fold your arms on the table and drop your head into them, resisting the urge to just slam your head into the table at your brother's stupidity. "Anyways, you're too old for Hongdae."

"I'm 25?" Your brother furrows your eyebrows at you.

"Exactly, you're basically geriatric here. They're not letting you in." You explain, lifting your head.

"Plus you're a foreigner. A male one at that." Jeongin adds.

"But...but you guys are young enough right? You can get me in. Plus if Y/n dresses how she did in high school, the bouncers will be too distracted and let us in."

"You're just going to pimp out your baby sister like that?"

"What else are you good for?"

"Literally anything else," You slap his arm and roll your eyes. "Besides, I'm not sneaking you into a club so you can whore around and cheat on your girlfriend. You know, the one you've been dating for 10 years and still haven't proposed to."

Your brother hangs his head low and picks up his cards. "She left me,"

"You should have proposed," You joke, still looking at your cards.

"Don't kick me when I'm down," He groans, dropping his head to the table.

"Down bad, maybe,"

"I'm down bad? What about the time you--"

"Finish that sentence and mom and dad are going to spend Christmas fishing your body out of the Han River." You threaten.

"'Whoring around?' 'Down bad?'" Jeongin whispers to you.

"Channie after two bottles of soju and beer," You explain simply.

"Ah, a slut. Got it." He gives a firm, understanding nod and goes back to looking at his cards. "You know, we could sneak him in. He looks a little sad about his girlfriend leaving him."

"He's just being dramatic. He'll be fine," You wave him off.

You know Jeongin is right. You could just sneak him in. It might be harder with just the three of you, but you've done it before with your friend group. Back before most of you were old enough to get into clubs, you figured out how to sneak your entire friend group in. Did it set the feminist movement back a few decades? Sure, but it was worth it to spend a few hours partying with your friends.

Your eyes can't help but wander over to your brother. You chew on the corner of your bottom lip as you think about it. Sure, he's a pain in the ass, but he's still your older brother. He's taken you to places he normally wouldn't be caught dead to cheer you up growing up. Watch movies that he claims he hates and let you paint his nails and practice makeup on him more times than you can count. He did it while huffing and puffing about how much he disliked it, but he still did it.

"Shit," You mutter under your breath, "Okay, give me twenty minutes."

~~~

The hard beat of whatever music is being played too loudly over the speakers booms through your body. You can barely see two feet in front of you, with how poorly lit the club is. It's hot, which was a nice contrast from the cold outside when you first walked in, but it's become increasingly uncomfortable, nearly unbearable, in a short amount of time. The Irish coffee he had ordered for you when you first came in was a good idea in theory, something that would keep you awake and still let you share a drink with your brother. But now it's too hot to drink coffee with whisky in it. You had to steal a few ice cubes from Jeongin's water to cool it down enough so you drink it without feeling hot yourself.

"He's having fun," Jeongin points to your brother in the mass of sweaty bodies dancing in front of you. He has his tongue down the throat of some girl whose name you're certain he can't pronounce.

"I'm going to be sick," You groan, leaning further into the seat of the booth you're in. The red plastic leather peels off your skin, nearly glued to you from how long you've sat there. You're glad he's having fun, you just wish he wouldn't do it in your line of sight.

Jeongin laughs and pats your hand, trying to reassure you. His head softly bounces in tune to the music being played. You take a sip of your drink before leaning back again, the bitterness from both the coffee and the whisky hit your tongue in a way that makes you pull a slight face. The whisky burns your throat as it goes down. You feel all warm and fuzzy like you're being hugged from the inside. Except, it's one of those uncomfortable hugs that go on too long and make you feel too hot. There's not much you could do, you already took off your jacket after a few minutes of being in the club.

"Hey," A guy who looks to be around your age, maybe a little older, says, sliding into the booth next to you. "you look bored, do you want to come home with me to eat ramen?"

You close your eyes and take a deep breath before turning your head in his direction. You're entirely too tired, hot, and tipsy to deal with any of his bullshit. "Fuck off,"

"What did you say?" His tone is sharp. You're not sure if he's taken aback by the fact that you can speak Korean or how disrespectful you're being towards him, but you can feel the change of energy radiating off of him.

You feel an unexpected weight on your shoulders. Your eyes flick down and see Jeongin's hand hanging off your shoulder, carefully making sure not to touch you inappropriately. He leans in close, pulling you away from the guy and staring at him in the eyes. "She said 'fuck off.' Now go,"

The man looks between the two of you before letting out an exaggerated scoff and getting up from the table. The two of you watch as he walks over to another table, this one filled with a few girls who are definitely a little too drunk.

"Thanks," You say simply, resting your head back. Jeongin doesn't remove his arm, allowing you to use him as a cushion. You think for a moment, something about this situation is familiar. Not an exact match, but a similar one. You can't help but let out a low chuckle when you realize why.

"What's so funny," Jeongin's other hand brushes against your cheek, moving a stray piece of hair that you weren't aware of that was stuck to your cheek.

"Nothing," You slightly shake your head.

"You're laughing, how is that nothing?"

"It's sad, not funny" You sit up slightly, taking another sip of your drink. "The last time I was in Hongdae, that was pretty much happening a lot. Soobin and I were already bickering the entire night so we got into a fight about it. He was so mad that he made me walk home. Alone. It was pouring rain too,"

“Is that where that cold you had around my birthday came from?”

You let out a low hum and slightly nod your head. Your eyes flutter shut, the warmth in your body leaving slowly. Or maybe you're finally getting used to the heat. Your body feels like it's floating above the table you and Jeongin are sitting at. You know you have a higher alcohol tolerance, but maybe the exhaustion is making you more susceptible to the whiskey in your drink.

“Why didn’t you call me?” He whispers, his voice is soft and warm like honey against your ear.

“It was around 3 am. Didn’t wanna bother you,”

For a second, you're no longer floating but falling. No, not falling, you're being dragged down. Only for a second. You open your eyes slowly. The crowd in front of you is now slightly tilted like you're suddenly in the Leaning Tower of Pisa. It takes you a second to realize that your head is resting on Jeongin's chest.

Badum

You're not sure if your heart is beating in tune with the music or trying to keep up with the thumping coming from Jeongin's chest. The thumping in his chest doesn't match up with the music. It's louder and faster than the song that's currently playing. Your left-hand snakes up and presses on his chest, trying to settle his heartbeat, the fabric of his red cotton shirt soft and nearly silky underneath your fingertips.

“Idiot,” He murmurs. He pulls you in a little closer, making the beating of his heart louder in your ear. “You don’t bother me. Stop thinking you're a burden on others when you're not. I'll pick up anytime you call so don't do that again. Okay?”

“Hmm,” You hum in agreement, your eyes fluttering shut again. The beating in his chest slowly settles into a calm, soothing rhythm. You can't even hear the music anymore, only his heartbeat. The smell of his cologne, which somehow managed to last the entire day, finds its way into your nose giving you some sense of security and familiarity. Somehow, it smells more like home than your parents did when you hugged them. Your hand lightly grips the fabric of his shirt as you just lay there.

“C’mon, let’s go dance,” He says, tapping your forehead with his free hand.

“Dance?” You mumble, cracking one eye open.

“You’re falling asleep or passing out from being tipsy. Either way, it’s not going to look good for either one of us if I have to carry you out of here. So let’s dance,” He pulls you upright just as smoothly as he pulled you onto his chest.

You turn to look at him, both of your eyes open now. His face is red, almost like he's been drinking something other than water alongside you this entire time. You reach out and place your hand against his face, gently stroking his cheek with your thumb, his skin hot against it yet again. “Careful, Yang Jeongin, someone might think you're in love with me.”

He slowly sucks in his lower lip, his eyes dance across your face. Like you're a book and he's trying to decipher your words. Or maybe he's trying to find his own and the answer lies in your eyes. He grabs your wrist and pulls your hand off his face before sliding his hand up, taking your hand in his. He gently leans forward, next to your ear. His breath makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. "Would that be so bad?"

You pull away from him, leaving your hand in his, and narrow your eyes at him, trying to read him. You're not sure if he's serious or if the alcohol that's quickly leaving your system is making you misunderstand what's happening. Your eyes scan his face for answers and, unlike him, you're unsuccessful. His face is redder than it was before. It's almost like he's absorbing all the alcohol in your system through your hand.

“In—”

Thump

Someone bumps into your table, causing your drink to topple over and spill onto both of your laps.

"Shit," Jeongin mutters as he drops your hand and scrambles to grab whatever napkins are on the table. He gives some to you and helps you clean up the now ice-cold drink that's dripping down to your feet, his own pants being neglected.

"I'll be right back," He says quickly before leaving you at the table and disappearing in the direction of the bathrooms.

Before you can even process what happened, your brother slides into the booth next to you. "People here are weird. I was making out with that girl and all of a sudden she's talking to me about ramen."

You quickly shake your head and focus your attention on your brother. You pick up the now empty cup that used to hold your cocktail and go back to trying to clean your jeans. "You're going to be so upset you said 'no' later."

"Was ramen code for something?" He turns his full body to face you. You glance at him before going back to clean up your mess. There's a small red mark at the base of his neck and dark pink lipstick smeared across his mouth. You can only imagine how much trouble he was about to get himself into.

"I'll tell you later," You wad up the dirty napkins and put them in your cup.

Your brother looks around, realizing that something is missing, "Where's your boyfriend?"

You freeze at the word boyfriend. You're used to people assuming that you're dating Jeongin, but somehow, this time feels different. Before, it always sounded accusatory. Like the two of you couldn't be just friends. That you were using the term "friends" as a veil to hide illicit-esque behavior. But now...

"Would that be so bad?"

Your brain replays that phrase in your head over. Surely, he was taking advantage of your intoxicated state to tease you like he usually does. That, had you not been interrupted by cold whiskey and coffee pouring into your lap, he would have let out a loud laugh and left his mouth hang so widely open that you wouldn't be able to see past the dark-lined half-moons where his eyes should be as you stammered out a response. Something that he would tease you about for the rest of your lives.

"He's not my boyfriend, dumbass. We're just friends." You sigh, thumping your brother on the back of his head.

Your brother rolls his eyes as he rubs the back of his head, a smile that would make the Cheshire cat envious spreads across his face. "Look, I'm saying this as both your older brother and as a guy, you may be 'just friends' with him, but he’s definitely not 'just friends' with you,”