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neopuppy · 5 months

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Our Sick Story, Thus Far (M)

Teddy Bear—> (yes you have to read this first)

pairing. Jeno x female reader x Haechan x ?

genre. college AU, pwp, dark fic, angst, M/F

wc. 29k

warning. profanity, bullying, forced relationship, cheating, dr*g use mentioned, blackmailing, coercion, possessive/obsessive behavior, lies deceit manipulation etc, is anyone in this story actually a good person??(the answer: no), stockholm vibes. smut warnings under cut. minors DNI.

now playing. Our Sick Story(Thus Far)//Atreyu

a/n. it’s been a long time coming and I hope the wait was worth it for this story that I had no business writing to begin with😅

dedicated to the messages I received letting me know Teddy Bear made them wanna throw up. you are going to love this one! and @notncdeeh for consistently bothering me to finish writing this💚

smut warnings. dubcon/noncon elements(DO NOT read if that makes you uncomfortable. thanks.), Jeno refers to y/n as ‘Teddy’ often, no teddy plush shall be spared, dacryphyilia, humiliation, degradation/praise, oral, anal, rimming, finger sucking, sub/dom dynamics, switching, hair pulling, slapping, protected and unprotected sex, breeding, impreg kink/forced pregnancy, cock warming, hidden camera use, choking, mind break, surprise character smut(👀).

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･･

Art class had taught you more than expected when you chose the extra curriculum for ‘stress relief’ as the school’s counselor put it, emphasizing how fast you will burn out if you don’t allow yourself one light work subject.

‘Paint me something pretty today.’ Jeno smirked near the entrance, stepping backward to keep his gaze on yours until he could no longer see you from the hallway.

Blue, sky blue.

Jeno’s favorite color is sky blue, which he mentioned one day when grabbing you after class. The only one of your courses he’d been unable to transfer into because it’d interfere with his degree.

‘It’s a shame we can’t be together all day.’ Jeno traced a faded spot along the column of your throat while you studied color theory. A mixture of blue and yellow bruises speckled with red bits of gnawed skin.

Art class has taught you many things, one being- you aren’t very artistic, and that much like the blue sky had turned darker earlier these days, so had your mind.

Jeno rained trickles of blues into your favorite colors, he muddied a bright day, stained pools of misery around your world.

Sky blue is an ugly color, you think, because even as he smiled with an arm slung over your shoulders walking through the first drops of November rain; Jeno robbed hues of yellow and gold from the sun. He gathered red from the last days of summer heat and stormed through your life on a cloud tainting everything a miserable shade of black.

Art class had really become your everyday sanctuary, a time away from him. Time to pretend that Jeno had never invaded your days.

A time to daydream from aw you hid behind a canvas, imagine ‘what if’, and admire a student from across too focused on his work to spare you a glance.

and when Jeno would arrive ready to prance you through the halls as his play thing, his little toy, you couldn’t help but wonder..

In another life you could have fallen for Jeno. You could have loved him, developed a healthy relationship, formed fond memories to reflect upon together in the future.

But in this life, you hate him.

Hate may be a strong word, but as you sit across from the bane of your existence, you know one thing is certain.

You hate Jeno Lee.

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･･

Perhaps it is to your detriment that Jeno has made you feel nothing, unless numbness can be classified as an emotion.

By the round of omnipresent gasps and whispers that reach your ears each time you enter a room with him, it’s hard to not fixate on the way his presence alone stirs the first rumble of what can only be classified as a concrete shattering earthquake. Maybe that’s the problem, because even when Jeno’s arms are wrapped around your waist from behind, leading you through the cafeteria to sit at a table alone with eyes of vultures ready to pick your flesh apart inch by inch; you cannot find it in yourself to care. Not anymore, not even close, not even a little.

“I like it when you wear your hair down.” Jeno whispers, fixing your loose locks to one side. “It’s really cute how you think this is enough to cover yourself and hide from me.”

Bony fingers trace patterns of sadness atop the marks he’s drawn along your throat. “Pretty.”

Cute. Pretty. Meaningless compliments, because how could they hold any meaning pouring from a soul filled with nothing but darkness.

Even as you sit pressed to his side in the back of the library, you feel sick, scribbling a mental note to wear your hair up more often. His compliments replay like a broken record, scratching the way up your thigh to a cut between the juncture of your knee. Your teeth clench as you claw your jagged nails up your inner thigh, attempting to make the mental gash real just to feel something. Dig the wound deeper, much like Jeno’s sweet words strike similar to the tip of a blunt tip knife; aimed recklessly at your soul slicing through inch by inch. Cutting you open until your blood has been drained of all life.

His eyebrows furrow, gaze following along to your hand and slapping your wrist away. “What the hell are you doing?”

“I need to use the restroom.”

“Great!” Jeno pipes up, grabbing your bag. “So do I.”

“Jeno..”

Standing up, he smiles expectantly, lip quirked to one side daring you to speak out loud against him. It’s useless, you know better by now.

“Can we make it fast this time? The bell will ring soon..” you mumble quietly, walking alongside him toward the exit.

“Worried you’ll miss your precious little painting class?” Jeno nudges you toward the mens bathroom, grabbing a hold around your elbow as he steps in first. “EMPTY OUT!” He roars, followed by an urgent shuffle and toilet flushing as one of the new Freshmen you recognize scuttles out with his head ducked, toilet paper attached to the back of his sneaker.

Jeno laughs breathily, entertained by the younger's fearful exit. The fear that he can instill in anyone easily with the snap of his fingers, or a mere glance. Turning toward you, he smiles, nodding to one of the stalls. “All yours.”

“That wasn’t necessary..” you say quietly, moving past him to find the cleanest stall available, nose scrunched in disgust as you settle on one and turn to shut the door. “Shit.” You startle jumping back, clutching at your chest.

Jeno latches onto the stalls frame, peering down at you. “No need to close the door Teddy, it’s only me.”

“Jeno, please..”

“You know I hate it when you do that.” Jeno swings his body back and forth, head shaking side to side slowly. “You said you need to use the bathroom?”

Locking your eyes to the floor, you’re at least thankful for choosing a skirt to wear today, lifting, sliding your underwear to your knees as you squat down and settle with your skirt fanned out over your thighs.

Jeno turns to laugh, rolling his eyes. “The way you still act so shy, like you’re ashamed..”

As if he hasn’t defiled you and had his way with you in every which way he prefers. “Cute.” Jeno’s gaze traces up from your sneakers to where your knees clench together, running his tongue under the inside of his lip. “Done?”

Scooting closer, his arms drop down to his sides, shoulders appearing more broad from where he looms above you. “And look at that, with time to spare still.”

Jeno grips around your upper arm, hoisting you up to your feet, panicked as you’d just begun to reach for the roll of toilet paper. “What’re yo—stop!”

Ignoring you, he flips you around to press your back against the stall, licking across his lips akin to a rabid animal. “Don’t worry about that, I’ll clean you up.”

He drops to his knees, bunching your skirt up to your waist as he perches one of your legs upon his shoulder, face burying between your thighs.

“Jeno, don’t! That’s too—“

The drag of his tongue has you choking, squirming back to get away as heat fills your cheeks, completely mortified by the sweep of his tongue running up and down. “N-no!”

Jeno groans, face shaking side to side as he makes sure to cover each inch of the skin between your thighs, tongue greedily running rampant between your folds. “That’s so disgusting.” You cry, pushing at his head, nails dug into his scalp

Jeno rushes back with a hiss, eyes snapping open wildly as he apprehends your wrists and clutches around your forearms roughly, returning the feeling with his short filed nails. “Funny how you only shut up at the worst times.” Overpowered, he pulls on your arms to launch himself back up, twisting them around your back painfully to press you to the stall chest first. “So difficult.”

Returning to his knees, he flips your skirt back up, keeping your wrists tethered with one hand. “Thought you wanted to get to class on time?” Jeno’s nose drags between your bottom, sucking in a deep inhale. “Fuck.”

He groans, biting down on the cleft of your ass hard enough to leave marks behind. A new one to join the rest that he makes sure to add daily. “Nothing about this is disgusting.” Cupping one of your buttcheeks, he bounces the meaty flesh against his face, eyes rolling up as his nose dips against your tight ring of muscle.

“Not there!” You wheeze, scrabbling to get away by uselessly scratching down the wall.

“You’ll get used to it.” He rumbles against your core, lips circling your entrance with a lewd slurp; not missing a drop of your arousal beginning to drip out. “Ridiculous how good you taste.”

Clapping your ass against his cheek without pause, Jeno’s neck bends back more, jaw opening wide to swipe his tongue from your clit to your hole, growling between short staggered breaths. Each drag of his nose slowly circling your rim humiliates you worse, biting down to keep in your complaints the more he goes for it. Splaying out his palm, he spreads your ass completely open, unveiling the taut ring of muscle clenching helplessly.

Jeno kisses at the backs of his teeth, drawing in a sharp breath as his index finger extends to tap and tease your rim, cheek dimpling to one side the more you fail to pull away. “You’ll let me fuck you here next, yeah?” He laughs, pushing your trapped fist into your lower back to form a deep arch. “Fill up all your holes, is that what you want?”

“N-no..” You grimace, face pressed to the chill bathroom stall. “Please, hurry, please.”

His tongue clicks obnoxiously, blowing on your rim before setting down a searing kiss, tongue smoothing around in a circle. “Why should I hurry? I don’t even get to fuck you.” He sneers, eyeing the time on his wrist.

“Later,” you pipe up fast, rutting back against his face to convince him. “After school, we can.. do that..”

His eyebrows shoot high, peering up in surprise. “Oh yeah? I’ll hold you to that, Teddy.” He bites down on your buttcheek again for good measure, nipping the skin roughly. “Now be good, and hold yourself open if you want to make it on time.” His grip on your wrist loosens, shaking off the sting left behind only for a second before he slaps your palms down on your butt and adjusts your position to expose both your holes. “That’s it.”

Thick arms circle around your thighs, biceps flexing to keep a snug grip on you as his hot tongue returns to your center and glides between your folds, inching lower until his lips can wrap around your clit.

“Uhhnnghhh..” you jolt, firmly tucking in your mouth to suppress a moan from soaring out.

Jeno’s hands swipe up the front of your thighs, gliding his mouth and nose from your wet hole to your clit with teasing firm flicks of his tongue; three of his digits find your bundle of nerves right as his mouth latches back around your entrance. His tongue buries deep, lifting your toes to curl up off the floor, knocking your forehead against the wall as you fight to keep in a desperate cry.

He’s relentless, tongue expertly waving against your insides, the muscle strong and thick. “Ugh!” A whine breaks through your sealed lips, smacking the stall as he taps your clit repeatedly, urging you to break down and squeeze your release around his tongue.

Jeno draws out, mouth a mess of shiny wet, panting heavily. “Come on, give me what I want.” He slaps your clit roughly, spitting at your entrance before plunging in, nosing at your rim harshly as he struggles to breathe out of his nostrils. He grumbles between choked breaths, tongue working in and out of your hole with precise thrusts. Each rub to you rim, stroke against your clit, and incessant roll of his tongue inside of you shoots straight through your legs, ready to collapse if not for his arms keeping you held in place.

“Je—I—“ your eyes roll back, grateful that he can’t see the wash of pleasure pouring down your face. Turned putty under his ministrations as you clamp around his tongue shamefully, scratching down the stall in a weak attempt to get away.

Jeno drags out only to lick up the trickle that managed to escape his mouth, lapping your inner thighs clean with a deep moan. Each swipe of his tongue raises your humiliation up higher, hissing and jerking away when he reaches the cut along your knee.

“What is this?” He grips a hold around your calve, forcing you to balance on one leg to get an up close look and inspect how deep the wound goes. “When did you do this?”

“Don’t know, think when I ran down the stairs to meet you this morning the stair bannister skimmed my leg..”

He grunts displeased, setting your foot down to stand and kick open the door. “Come here.”

Jeno motions to the sinks, dropping both of your backpacks down next to you on the counter. “Does it hurt?”

He examines your knee closer, propping your foot to rest along the sink ledge, tongue poked between his teeth.

“Why do you care?” You ask with a scowl, reassigning your attention to the bathroom floor when Jeno slowly blinks at you and reaches to open his backpack.

“Is that a serious question?”

“Whatever.”

He nods, huffing an amused sound under his breath as he grabs a pack of sanitation wipes. “This may sting but I’d rather you not get some infection, especially after scratching at it.”

He proceeds to lightly dab the wound, drawing a hiss between your teeth despite how gentle he’s trying to be.

“You don’t have to do that,” you bite, leg jerking in his hold. “I won’t pick at it anymore.”

“Sure.” Pink lips purse together, delicately blowing over the area. “I don’t have much, but I’ll cover it up with some gauze when we get home later.”

Home.

Jeno speaks as if you live together, and you may as well at this point. Ripping a bandage open with his teeth, his eyes thin to place the non-sticky white where your flesh appears most harmed. “You’re mine now, I expect you to be more careful than this with your body.”

Squeezing up your calve, his thin digits dig through the meat of your muscle, trapping your bouncing gaze. “Maybe it’s best you move out of that shit hole you live in. That areas not well fit for a young girl to live alone there.”

“I can’t afford to move..”

Jeno’s lips gingerly land atop the bandaid, puckering to press a kiss. “I’ll figure something out.”

“You’re being weird.” You whisper, turning away from the sight of his pouty mouth continuing to layer kisses over your wound as if to heal you faster.

“It’s okay.” He draws your foot off the counter, taking a hold of your thighs to make space for himself to stand closer between. “It’s okay to accept it.”

Jeno’s eyes appear black as night, empty of any genuine thought or emotion, but even then your chest aches at the flicker of hope when he looks at you. It’s different, nothing you’ve experienced from anyone else. He looks at you like you’re..

“Special.” He whispers, pinching your chin as he leans in closer and his palm smooths over the covered wound. “Does it hurt?”

“..Would you hurt me?” Your lips move faster than you mind can register, asking yourself the question over and over again without realizing you’ve said it outloud.

Jeno blinks slowly, taking in your nervous expression. Opening up his palm, he moves to cup your chin and keep your face visible as you try to hide away, slowly inching forward to connect your mouth to his.

The bell rings right before your lips can meet, dislodging the breath you hadn’t even realized you’d been holding. It’s easy to break from your thoughts and push yourself off from the sink, scoot around him fast with the excuse of being late. “My scholarship.” You constantly remind him, receiving nothing more than a roll of his eyes in return.

“Yeah yeah,” he trails after you out of the bathroom, voice low and threatening. “I’m holding you to what you said for later, don’t forget.”

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･･

Jeno met Haechan the first day of Freshman year of high school.

Excited to show off a new pair of shoes with wheels attached on the soles, he rolled through the hallways to his first class. That’s when he noticed an on-slaught of senior girls running by in their short cheerleading uniforms. Giggling and waving as they jogged by him cackling from behind their hands- ‘hey freshie’.

All too distracted with a goofy smile on his face, he missed the shorter boy wandering ahead of him lost. An unfortunate collision caused their foreheads to bump hard enough for a bruise to show up on both of them by lunch.

Haechan hissed, crashing flat on his bottom painfully; Jeno quickly apologized and helped him up. Little did he know they’d become great friends from that day forward.

Jeno’s not jealous of Haechan, not necessarily. He admires how giving his friend can be, really. If Jeno ever forgets to grab his packed lunch, Haechan will always offer to share. He’s always sure to invite Jeno over to play games whenever his dad purchases the latest gaming console. He’d even go as far as lending Jeno the shirt off his back if needed.

‘What are friends for if not to have you back in any situation?’ That’s what Haechan would say whenever Jeno felt rendered speechless by his friend's generosity.

The thing is, Jeno had never had a friend like Haechan. He questions if he can even call his relationships with others friendships anymore.

Unlike Haechan, Jeno had trained himself to not share. Friends had only become burdensome with time. Always asking him to play with his toys, mooching from his delicious snacks, making a big deal over the new pair of sneakers he wore that day.

They liked him because he had nice things, but they didn’t actually care about him. They cared about materialistic bullshit, about his good looks, the designer name brand clothing he’d wear.

Haechan was different from all of them. One day he opened up and shared that he’d felt homesick. Vulnerable at the time after a long tiresome day of introducing himself to groups of snobby fake stuck up people. One even pointed out a manga on his desk saying- ‘I’ve only seen weird loners read that shit’.

‘I had a friend.. back home.’ Haechan had sighed despairingly, head dropped lazily on his bed; drained by the realization that this is his new life. ‘Well.. I wanted her to be more than a friend.’

Jeno watched Haechan over the next few years. His friend changed, reformed his persona to fit in with the standard; he adapted quickly to this new lifestyle. Days of asking Jeno if he’d like some of his lunch dwindled down to nothing; seemingly only irritated that Jeno could be so forgetful of he ever asked for his leftovers.

Things had only become more tense with time. Haechan had grown competitive with everyone. He craved to be the ‘it’ boy around school. It never phased Jeno, not really, he learned to accept the change in his friend.

Then came the day Haechan decided that Jeno was his competition.

“Jeno, don’t you think this Cartier bracelet would look so cute on my wrist?” Sinclair waved her phone in his face. Wrist waggling out toward him, suggesting with her flirty batting eyelashes that he buy it for her; she had been on his ass for months dropping hints. “Perhaps you could finally ask me out with a gesture such as this?”

“He can’t afford that.” Haechan rolls his eyes letting out a breathy scoff by her side.

“Of course he can, nothing a swipe of your dad’s Amex can’t cover. He won’t even notice it on the monthly statement.” Sinclair goes on.

“His dad’s broke.” Haechan corrects her abruptly, glancing quickly toward Jeno’s burning glare. “I mean, uh... don’t repeat that.”

Haechan snatches her phone, waving off that he’d buy it for her when he takes her out come Friday.

All it took was some stupid girl Jeno could give a fuck about for Haechan to let him down for the last time. It bothered him for months, imagining the various ways he could split his ‘friends’ skull open.

“I won’t mention it again dude. It was a mistake, alright?” Haechan whispers standing near his locker after Jeno had resorted to the silent treatment for the rest of the week. “Listen, I’m sure she’s already forgotten. I’ll just take her to some overpriced restaurant and tell her I made that up because I was high or whatever.”

“You promised me you wouldn’t tell anyone.”

“Promises are for children Jeno, I forgot alright? I’m allowed to make a mistake.” Haechan showed no remorse. Proving his promises to be empty, backed by no integrity, lacking worth and value. Jeno knew deep down Haechan only continued to befriend him out of guilt, he knew their relationship boiled down to nothing for the other at the end of the day.

He knew he had to do something about it, but he couldn't. He had to wait for the perfect timing. He had to leave Haechan defenseless. He needed to ensure no way for his father to find out of his plan. Leave Haechan with no way to snitch and rat him out, a threat strong enough to hold over his friend's head.

The day you came along everything fell into place. Jeno knew as he watched Haechan’s head lay on your shoulder from behind a bookshelf in the library, you clearly meant something to him. None of it made sense at first. Why would Haechan care about you of all people?

“Remember that girl you mentioned from back home?” Jeno decides to casually bring up the story he’d hardly cared about or paid attention to while gaming. His friend's throat cleared on the opposite end from behind his computer screen.

“Yeah, what about her?” Haechan says, continuing to mumble curses as he goes on playing.

“Whatever happened to her? Did you two keep in touch at all?” Jeno asks, cursing at the screen to seem casually interested.

“Uhhh,” Haechan swallows, shrugging. “Honestly, don’t know.”

Liar.

Jeno’s teeth grit, holding back a laugh. “That’s too bad, you two were really close, I remember how tore up you were back then when you had first moved. Took you a while to get over it.”

“Man, that was so long ago.” Haechan waves off. “I was a kid.”

Raising a finger to silence their conversation, Haechan pauses the game, picking up his phone after the first ring. “Hey baby, nah I’m just with Jeno, yeah the usual.” Haechan proceeded to ignore him, the old friend he once cherished long gone now.

Just like you.

There are times you want to ask ‘Why me? Why me of all people? Out of all the girls withering away for a mere blink from Jeno in their directions, what the fuck made me matter.’

The unplanned vow of silence you’ve committed to halts those times your tongue itches to lash at him, and you listen, you listen well, very well. It’s to your detriment really, because Jeno adores that you listen, he loves the implication of the power he constricts you with behind your binded lips.

It’s also to his detriment that— for lack of better words, Jeno isn’t the brightest. Maybe he doesn’t want to come off too intelligent, you contemplate as he gushes on about his lost friendship; his favorite topic other than you really.

Haechan.

Jeno’s obsessed with Haechan, at least he’s obsessed with the fact that Haechan won. Between his foul rehashing of times his alleged best friend made him feel futile, it’s easy to decipher why it had to be you.

Not to make Haechan jealous, no. Haechan could give a fuck about you.

Jeno sees the precious memories of his former friend that he lost in you. The glint in his iris sparkles, satisfied by your raptured gaze as he wraps up his story.

“That’s why you’re so perfect.” He says proudly, capturing his bottom lip between index finger and thumb, massaging it while a hum rises up his throat. “Had to be you. You’re the answer I’ve been waiting for.”

The answer. What the fuck does that even mean, you squint, blinking it away fast. Jeno beams, pulling you closer to him with his arm snaking around your waist. “I like when you do that, makes me wonder what’s going on in that brain of yours. Something devious I’m sure.”

Carrying your bag, he hooks an arm over your shoulder, drawing you close as you venture to your next class together. “Hey.”

Maneuvering you around to face him, he stops at the classroom door, grabbing the attention of numerous students as he blocks the entrance making an awkward scene for you. “What are yo—“

“I love you.” Jeno announces loud and clear, receiving a round of gasps and an uproar of whispers. He smiles, cheeks lined with wrinkles, eyebrows raised as he waits.

“Wha—…” breaking off, you peer around quickly, sweat pouring down your back out of fear. Anger and an oncoming storm raging through your gut. “What.”

He lets out a chuckle, sighing as he hugs your back to his chest and proceeds to make way to your seats, further boiling the heat building up your chest. “My sweet sweet Teddy.”

“What the hell is wrong with you!” You hiss, throwing your shoulder into his chest to continue to your seat under the eyes of the entirety of your class. Rounds of whispers sing around you, the usual confusion you’ve become accustomed to laced between every shared word.

He sits by your side, arm back around you in no time with a large smile, nodding and peering around the room to affirm that he meant what he just said.

Every cell in your body wants to explode, throw Jeno down onto the ground and crush his face under your foot. The squeeze around your shoulder curls you in further, wishing to be anywhere but here.

“Cold?” He asks, knowing that you aren’t, it’s a mere excuse to wrap himself around you more. His nose nuzzles against your hair, taking a deep inhale with a suffocating possessive hug wrapped tightly you. “Can’t have my Teddy get sick.”

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･･ ⋆ ･

“Teddy.”

It’s shrill, nausea inducing, the way Jeno’s grown fond of this nickname for you.

The way he smiles and peers at you with some sick adoration as he calls you his teddy bear again.

While you feel trapped and disgusted, everyone else seems confused, peeved, and to be gossiping about the two of you.

Haechan’s girlfriend sports an ugly sneer when you walk by wrapped under one of Jeno’s arms; snapping the pencil in her hand into a broken half as he sets a kiss on your forehead, smirking at the round of gasps your schoolmates let out throughout the hallway.

“They’re all so jealous of you.”

They are jealous of you, watchful eyes speak volumes following your conjoined figures heading toward the parking lot.

Jeno has successfully transferred into nearly all of your classes, he picks you up and drops you off. Blows up your phone with texts and calls the second you’re apart. He doesn’t ask for updates or proof of what you’re doing, he demands it. Threats fall empty now, you don’t have much to say, he does the talking.

You listen.

“Our assignments are due next week.” He mutters, pulling away from the school in an opposite direction from where you live.

Our. Mine. His.

Nothing is yours anymore, Jeno made sure of that.

“I have to be home soon..”

“Oh yeah?” He lets out a breathy laugh, drumming the steering wheel while sat at a red light. “Last I checked you only have to be with me, your parents only call to check in on you once a week. They don’t have to know your location at all times teddy.”

Oh but he has to know. He knows everything about you, every excuse and lie you can concoct shot down by weeks of evidence collected while studying you from afar. Far enough for you to never catch on, too clueless because of your own insecurities to ever fathom that someone like Jeno could be obsessed with you.

“Besides, today is a special day.” He exclaims, driving into a gated community full of large three story houses resembling suburban mansions.

“How could you forget?” Jeno parks, moving to unbuckle your seatbelt. He sighs, pinching your chin to look at him. “It’s our one month.”

He pouts, bottom lip jutted out while blinking dumb and slow.

Sometimes you think that Jeno’s cute, and that makes you hate yourself more than anything. All you can do is avert your gaze, pretend he has no affect on you, keep up an act that he’s emptied you of any possible emotion; because he wants to destroy you. He wants you to feel helpless, wants you to rely on him because you have nothing else.

He’s pushing you inside of the house, digging into your knees from behind with his, built arms tightly wrapped around your waist. Suffocating you, that’s what he does, coating you in his scent, sucking out your energy throughout the duration of each day with the metaphoric needles he prickles you with. Every word that drips from his tongue feels like acid poured onto your flesh, burning through the layers to melt you deep inside until the pain goes numb.

His families house is enormous, spread out and fully furnished. Luxurious like some 5 star hotel, which Jeno hasn’t let you forget is only thanks to Haechan’s father for saving their ass.

‘My dad can’t afford this place anymore. The bank owns our house by now, but he’ll do anything to keep up appearances.’

That’s what he mentioned during lunch one day, ranting about how he can’t stand the way everyone ‘keeps up appearances’ around here; snickering disdainfully toward the table his former best friend sat at.

‘Especially him. Fake asshole.’

Jeno stops you in front of his bedroom door standing by itself in the hallway he’s led you through.

A dark empty hallway, away from all of the other bedrooms. Ominous and cold.

“You know the way, open the door teddy.”

Of course you know, it may as well be your bedroom at this point.

“I have a surprise for you.”

Jeno’s palms cover your eyes when you reach for the door handle, stiffening your spine as his chest knocks against your back to make you step further inside.

Inside of his bedroom it’s dimly lit, a chilled temperature; the air cools down your throat with every breath you take.

“Do you like it?” He’s smiling against the shell of your ear, whispering softly. Revealing with the drop of his hands a giant plushie sat on his bed against the corner; a human size teddy bear.

He knows you don’t like it, even the question sounds like a dare; a dare for you to say that you don’t like it, that you don’t like any of this.

You especially don’t like Jeno, or the way his palms brush down your arms, shifting to your waist to gather your top up. Bunching at your stomach as he begins to remove it from your body.

“There's more, Teddy.”

Of course there’s more.

The tips of his fingers slowly trail between your breasts, throwing your top off with ease because you don’t struggle. You let him take off your clothes whenever he wants.

Most times he doesn’t touch you much, but he counts, he memorizes. He traces over indentations from teeth buried into your skin and faded bruises left behind after fucking you roughly. He makes sure there are no others, only Jeno can mark you, only Jeno can see you like this.

He takes time discarding your bottoms, unbuttoning slowly, pushing the material down your hips even slower. Squatting down to his knees to pepper faint kisses on your hips and thighs as more your flesh comes to light; finishing off with a peck on your forehead when he stands and motions toward the plushie.

“Don’t you want the rest of your gift?”

You nod, just barely, taking a step toward the bed. Met with a hand clasped on your shoulder and a ‘nu-uh-uh Teddy’.

Jeno smirks, pushing on your shoulder. “On your knees.”

On your knees like the pet you’ve become. Crawling with your palms flattened onto the bed. Heating up knowing he’s behind you watching your underwear ride up your ass. It’s less humiliating now, he’s made you do worse.

A small black box sits between the teddy bear's legs, adorned with a glittery red bow.

“Open it.”

Hesitantly you pull apart the lid, pursing your mouth shut at the piece of jewelry inside.

A choker, a solid black thin choker you will no doubt have to wear around your neck everyday now. A choker with a teddy bear charm punctured in place through a small metal ring.

“Ah, I can tell you love it already.” He chuckles, ripping the box from your hold. Shoving your hair away to lean close and lock the clasp around the back of your neck. Grazing the edge of his nose on your jaw and cheek as he does, a silent reminder that you are his, and he will do whatever he pleases with you.

Jeno has a sardonic smirk stretching his lips as he takes you in, fingering the charm dangling just beneath your throat.

“My teddy bear.”

Tips of cold fingers trace your neck, following the pulse passing through your veins, it’s all just to push your buttons. Jeno wants a reaction, he craves your pitiful stares and miserable moans, he needs your pain to feel something.

You won’t give him that satisfaction, not anymore.

He sighs, pushing your shoulder to nudge you in the direction of the large plush. “Don’t think I’m letting you off easily for forgetting our special day either.”

God. How could he possibly care enough about you to count down the days you’ve been ‘together’ or whatever he considers this. “Now, show me how much you love your gift.” He says with a wink, tapping your ass and nudging his chin to the teddy bear laid between his pillows.

This has to be some sick kink of his, and it’s impossible to forget what he made you do in that abandoned classroom a month ago..

“Just like last time.” He hums, moving onto the bed with his knees. “I know you remember.”

It’s not necessarily watching you grind against a toy that ripples blood through his veins faster, filling up his cock until it weighs heavy and hot between his thighs; but the saddened broken image before him, with your gaze lowered in shame as you mount the plush and grit your teeth. It’s the shattered feeble look of defeat that fills his chest with warmth more than anything. “That’s it.”

Reaching to smooth up your spine, he pushes at the backs of your shoulders, shifting closer to sit behind you on his knees. “Wanna see you ride it up close.”

He works to guide your hips down onto the bears stomach, pushing hard until your core meets the soft material and you let out a shameful whimper. Biting down on his lip as he slaps your thigh, squeezing up your butt to your waist with instruction to move.

It’s vile, rolling your hips down at his command, growing short of breath as the friction builds up between your legs and his strong hands manipulate your movements. Tears spring past the corners of your eyes the faster he makes you move up and down, grinding your core along the life-size plushie full of humiliation and fear.

“Your ass looks so fucking good.” He groans deeply behind you, rubbing down your back to cup your buttcheeks in a squeeze. Gripping and kneading, parting you open to watch your rim flutter against your panties with each pathetic hump against the teddy bear. “I know I couldn’t be your first time teddy..”

He leans in, chin resting on your shoulder to halt your movements as he dips in past the cleft of your ass to find your hole. “But I’ll be the first to fuck your ass.”

The gasp you try to keep mute still reaches his ears, softly chuckling against you as he adjusts and slides your underwear to one side. “Consider it your gift to me for forgetting our special day.”

Some special fucking day..

“You’re so wet already, doubt I’ll even have to prep you.” Jeno whispers, nudging the tip of his thumb against your rim. “Looks really tight, what do you think? Should I be nice and stretch you open first?”

“Please..p-please, I’ve never..”

“Shh shh, don’t worry, I believe you.” He chuckles softly, pressing the blunt tip of his length against your entrance. “With how tight that pussy is, I know you’ve never let anyone inside your ass. It’ll be a special memory only for us..”

Is it special? The tingle building in your stomach seems to agree, relaxing against the plushy to arch your butt out more. It has to be a Pavlovian response by now, conditioned to seek this pleasure Jeno provides you. Even if you hate accepting it. It’s not your fault that your body's natural response is to crave his touch, and spread your legs wider for it.

“I’ll be nice.” There’s amusement in the way he says it, like he doesn’t believe himself either. Slapping the mass of his cock down between the dip in your ass, cursing through clenched teeth. “You may not show it, but your cunt never lies.”

The bulbous tip swipes down, pressing against your clit, pushing your knees to slide open an inch more. It’s all taunting and teasing, running the fat cockhead between your chubbed folds, dipping it into your entrance just to watch you squirm and rut back for more. “Greedy pussy, acting like I don’t fuck you enough.”

He mumbles, smacking the underside of his length between your thighs. The wet clap stinging under the weight of his heavy size beating down on your swollen core. “J-Jeno..”

“Something wrong teddy?” He tuts, hips rolling up, gripping your buttcheeks to sandwich around his length. “You sound.. impatient.”

He gulps, trapping his cock under his thumbs to fuck between your buttcheeks faster. Wet tip prodding out, spilling precum down making the glide even easier. Each thrust passing over your pussy hole and rim makes your thighs tremble, burying your face deeper into the teddy bears neck. “Mmmph..”

“I know it hurts you Teddy..” Jeno’s words rasp against the back of your neck. Bending forward to paint your warm flesh with a coat of moisture. Sweat, raw sex and saliva combine, sticking your skin and his mouth together like hot glue. “Why do you have to be so good at taking it though? Huh?”

Breath fans your upper back, the drag of his tongue races across your shoulders to bite down a groan on one. Notable effort to make you squirm and scream becomes more prevalent with each smack of his hips against your ass, grunting deeper the more he exerts. “It’s because you like me, right?” He asks between the sound of a struggled laugh, gasping with another slide of his thick length passing between your thighs. “You’re drenching me sweetheart, making a fucking mess of my sheets. You know what I’m gonna have to do later?”

He’s silent for a few seconds, panting heavily as his tongue trails to lick the column of your throat. The glide of his cock between your thighs is disgustingly loud, squishing and splashing in volumized echoes around his bedroom. “Your lack of response is becoming predictable, you know.”

His lower half snaps, protruding hip bones beat against your backside. A gut crunching sensation curls up your chest, unable to deny the slick gush continuously leaking out of you and coating your ass and thighs the more frantic his motions become. “Can’t wash these sheets again, need to savor it. Remind you of how much you enjoyed it. How you finally gave in and accepted this fate.”

“N-no..”

“What was that?” Jeno asks breathlessly, gripping the base of his girth to position the tip against your rim. “You want more, don’t you?”

He presses in, watching his wet slit disappear past your asshole. “Ahh, no!! S-stop!”

He snickers, angling the tip to stretch your tight ring of muscle. “Relax. It’s going to hurt a lot if you don’t relax.”

“Please..go slow..” you sigh, biting on the plushy when he nudges more.

“Be calm teddy. You want this?” He drags the sharp edges of his well-filed nails down your ass painfully, surely leaving marks behind. “Want my face shoved in your ass, huh? That’s why you’re whining so much.”

Jeno always has a way of speaking to you during these intimate moments. So cold and uncaring. The icy tone breaking your skin out in goosebumps. Even with your mouth sucking around the teddy bears arm, you whimper, the urge to cry spiking as he removes your panties and lands a sharp strike down on your ass.

“Bent over all pretty for me teddy, you arch that butt out like such a good little slut.” His palm smooths down lower, patting your wet folds to make you listen to how wet you are from this alone. “Who knows, after this I might not even bother with your pussy anymore. Have my own brand new unused hole to fuck now.”

He teases, swiping your clit side to side, dragging the tips of your fingers between your cunt to prod at your entrance. “You’re so wet, I love how fucking wet you get.”

A shaky breath leaves your lips as he twists two fingers inside and buries in knuckle deep, pressing his thumb to your asshole. “Such a perfect slut for me, ready to be my anal whore.” Jeno pulls out and lands a slap down on your rim, hard enough for the sound to clap out around his bedroom. Your hips drop from the sudden impact, biting down a scream into the plushy. “Enough of that, I wanna hear you.”

Wrapping around your waist, he manhandles you easily onto the center of his bed. Laid down on your back softly for him to get a good look at you, for you to finally see him. He’s big, broad, looming over you in the dim light illuminating from the corner of his room. The strokes of yellow paint across his chest and muscle, the darkness pronouncing deep indentations of muscle lining his abdomen and arms. Jeno falls forward, catching himself above you with his biceps bracketing your head, smiling as he leans in to kiss the fresh tears lining your cheeks.

“As much as I wanna bend you over and fuck your ass like there’s no tomorrow.. “ he slows to kiss up from your chin to where droplets have pooled under the hollows of your eyes. Sucking up and kissing the wetness there, enjoying it more than you’d be able to comprehend. “Nothings better than watching your face when I fuck every inch of my cock inside..”

The pure joy glaring back at you from his dark glass irises rains more tears down your face, sniffling and shaking as he licks them clean and squishes your lips out. “Relax sweetheart, it’ll feel good for both of us. Promise.”

Thin digits run down from your jawline, tracing past your neck and over the mounds of your breasts. Jeno adjusts your position to haul one of your thighs up, using his shoulder to keep your knee pressed against the bed. He makes a show of bringing his hand up to his mouth, sucking around three fingers, dragging his sloppy wet tongue between each with laser focused eyes locked on yours.

“You’re so good for me teddy, gonna let me use that pretty ass..” the way he holds you open exposes both of your holes, hovering past your swollen wet cunt to press two fingers against the clench of your asshole. “Just one baby..”

He presses the tip of one slicked up digit in, breaching the tight little muscle until you whine desperately. “Feels so warm..” Jeno’s eyes flutter, thick black eyelashes still visible in the low light. He sounds throaty, hungry, exasperated and needy. Quietly muttering to himself about how good your tight hole feels as he begins to pull his finger in and out slowly. “Bet your pussy was even tighter than this when you were still a virgin.”

His voice comes out a lot more harsh, gravelly, guiding another finger in with the next stroke. They scissor through and flutter against your inner walls, tugging lightly at your rim as he dips out to the just the tips. “You’re opening up great for me sweetheart. Do you see how you always listen so good?”

Jeno sits on his knees like a predator catching his prey after a long meticulous hunt. Prodding another tip past your rim alongside the two, the muscles lining his arm rippling, exerting more strength to not push them in all at once. “Tell me teddy, are you desperate enough for me to even let me claim your ass?”

Your throat dries, pursing your lips together to quell the moan that nearly spills out. It’s a new type of full, sneaking peeks at the veins running down his inner forearm leading to the fingers working you open. A wash of shame and heat streaks down your limbs, shivering when Jeno draws his digits free, dangling them above your ass.

“I know you are.” He lands another slap between your thighs, making your extended leg jerk. Fixing his angle to line the tip of his cock with your rim, the large blunt tip presses down, having to tuck your lips in to not scream. “..but I want to hear you say it.”

The head of his cock nudges in, pulling a gasp from your chest. Jeno bends closer to grab your jaw, shake your head around until you look at him. “Tell me to fuck your ass.”

“I’m—“ your voice sounds unrecognizable, squeaking out brokenly, overpowering the one you’re used to. “I—‘wan—“

Bending in closer, the pull up your hamstring burns, further pushing your leg against the bed. He pushes in another inch, the bulbous tip nearly fully entering, skin stretched taut around him. “You can do it, I know you can do it. Tell me sweetheart.”

“F-fuck—“ you pause, the last bits of your mind slipping away to another dimension. “Fuck m-my ass, please—fuck my a-ass.”

A sick pleased smile lifts the corners of his lips, bumping the tip of his nose to yours. Jeno doesn’t fuck the rest of his length in immediately the way you expect, slowly pushing each inch to savor the snap around his shaft.

It’s when his hips bump against the backs of your thighs that you finally take in a deep breath you didn’t know you were holding. Panting out heavily and wide eyed when you can feel the entirety of his cock fully sheathed inside of you.

It’s when Jeno begins to pull out that you bite down to keep in a scream, lifting up on his forearms caged around your head to watch his length draw free. It feels like he’s splitting you in two and he hasn’t even really gotten into it yet. It goes on like that for a minute or two, his head hung, black hair in your face, awestruck by your rim sucking around his dick each time he pulls out to the tip. He gains speed slowly, snapping his hips forward for the first time. Jolting your spine to arch up and finally release a tiny scream you can’t hold in any longer.

“Pussys making such a mess teddy..” Jeno rasps, throwing his head back, pink lips hung open. “Fuck, you’re dripping down to my balls. Love getting fucked up the ass.”

Every thought racing through your mind dissolves, blank and empty as you crane your neck to the side to get a look at what he’s going on about. Embarrassment flushes down your face, unconsciously clamping down on his length plunging in faster. The powerful snap of his hips rocking you deep into his bed, surrounded by Jeno Jeno Jeno. His smell, his touch, his mouth and his meaty girth stretching you open. It’s become something you expect, something you’d feel weird without now, Jeno.

It burns when he buries in deep, grabbing onto the back of your knee for better control. The stretch feels more and more overwhelming with each pass of his cock manipulating your tight ring of muscle further. Digging his knees steadily into the bed, he picks up the pace and kicks his hips forward to fuck in to the hilt.

“Love fucking your ass. Love fucking you.” Jeno’s eyes clench shut, blinking quickly to open them and shove his forehead against yours. “Love you.”

God it makes your stomach churn, half pulled into a pleasure that feels too good to be true; sickened by how good it feels to be impaled by his fat cock. Half suffocated by the rushing swarm of emotions lassoing your brain, tightening until you feel ready to burst. And Jeno again with the fucking L word, dropping it like nothing, making sure you feel each syllable through his girth splitting you open.

The push and pull against your clenching rim feels painful, feels good, makes your head spin. He eats it up, licking across your lips, trapping the bottom between his teeth to suck on. Nose dragging down your cheek, lapping the tears, sweat and spit painting your face. It should feel disgusting, you should feel repulsed, but this behaviors become so standard now. Jeno’s like a puppy sometimes, burying his face in your neck, searching for a place to lay new kisses.

Even during these times when he’s on top of you, pushing his cock in deep enough to bruise your cervix, your fingers itch to touch him. He usually does it for you, grabs your wrists and forces your hands to drag down his face, kissing the inside of your palms and wrists.

He seems more intent on kissing you right now, letting ragged breaths fans across your lips between light pecks. “Can you cum like this?” He asks, murmuring against your mouth.

“I—I d-don’t know..” you really don’t. It’s your first time and the pleasures surging all over in different directions, racing between pain and confusion back to arousal and need.

“You can.” Jeno whispers, lowering his face to your neck, gaze focused on your connected lower halves. “You’re so wet.”

Fingers trail down your stomach, softly skimming over your clit before easing between your folds. He sinks two inside, thumb rubbing your clit in a simultaneous motion, filling you from both ends. “Ugh! Yeah just like that sweetheart..”

Jeno snaps forward, trying to match the rhythm of his hips to his fingers. He bites down on your jugular, panting heavily against your throat. The burn of the stretch crashes against waves of pleasure, twitching up with each rough rub at your clit.

“I’m—I’m c-cumm—“ the sob you break off into has him moving faster akin to a feral animal. The weight of his bulky frame lands down on you hard enough to make his bed shake, headboard slam against the wall. Each brush of his thumb at your clit feels more sensitive than the last, sending you over the edge, mind blank beyond the grip your ass has around his cock. “Ahh!”

The wetness spilling out past his fingers slides all the way down to your lower back, further solidifying your humiliation. Because he’s right, you are wet just from this, loving your ass stuffed full. Drowning in the sensation of his length ramming in and out.

“Squeeze that fuckhole around me so good teddy, cum cum—“ Jeno chants manically, throwing his hips down rough and fast. Pressing down your clit harshly between viscous flicks, rolling the stiff nub until your toes curl.

You spill over quickly, writhing under his weight as the pressure of wetness pushes his fingers out of your cunt. The orgasm rolls through you like no other, rolling your eyes to the back of your skull. Thinking you’ve passed off into the afterlife if not for the way he draws back and pounds into your ass.

“You like it?!” Jeno’s expression morphs into one of anger, black eyebrows furrowed together. He grabs your face again, chasing after his release still slamming his cock in deep. “You like getting fucked up the ass?”

The questions pointed, furious. The face of frustration and anger only there to mask how close he is to falling apart, reaching a new high as he charges to the peak.

“L-love it, yes..” you barely whisper, tear filled eyes blinking the moisture away to watch his features contort and crumble. His pace turns erratic, breath quickening fast enough for his chest to beat up and down. Letting out a deep growl, Jeno comes to a still, mouth hung open letting a chopped up groan roll off his tongue. His cock thrums wildly against your inner walls, flooding your ass with warm white cum you’ve had poured inside of your cunt for weeks.

The little sounds dripping from his lips sounds anguished, whimpering when he thrusts in one more time to ensure his cums evenly painted your insides. “Love you so much..”

His eyes fall shut, nose dug into your cheek catching his breath. The tips of your fingers tingle again, itching and burning to comb through his soft dark locks, to smooth the sweaty strands off his forehead. It feels like the right thing to do.. maybe with anyone else.

But you want it to feel right with Jeno..

He grumbles, littering kisses down your cheek to the corner of your mouth. “Gonna pull out, okay?”

You don’t respond, not even a nod, only hissing through your teeth as you gape and the now cooled down semen trickles out of your ass disgustingly, really cementing what you’ve just done. What you’ve let him do to you again.

Jeno hums softly, laying by your side without a worry, seeming pleased and full of life judging by the small smile on his face. “Happy anniversary teddy.” He reaches for your hand, scrabbling to entwine your fingers when you try to pull away.

“What’re you thinking about?” He murmurs, shifting closer to your side as you curl into yourself to get further away. “I don’t even have to ask. I’m sure I can throw out a wild guess..”

He lets out a long sigh, huffing a quiet laugh. “You’re not as good at masking your emotions as you may think.. You have to erase those old memories you have of Haechan. He’s not a good guy.” Jeno remarks, nudging his elbow against your side. “He’s a bad person.”

“You are no better..” You accuse, a bit surprised, whispering with your mouth pressed against his bed. The last person you’re thinking about right now is Haechan(..maybe). Jeno’s smile only grows wider, tickled to hear you talking back finally.

“There’s a difference between me and him.” He says surely, slinging an arm around your waist, hooking his chin over your shoulder as he presses in close to whisper. “He changed to please everyone. I just don’t care anymore.”

“You’re both terrible people..”

Jeno sighs, smile still evident in his tone, leaning closer kissing your ear. “I love you.”

“Stop saying that.” You mutter, digging your elbow back to push space between you.

“Why would I do that?” Smoothing your arm down, he kisses the end of your jaw, licking your earlobe. “I love you, I know you won’t say it back, but that won’t stop me from letting you know that I love you.” He cozies up against you, yawning. “Get some rest, we have that test to pass tomorrow.”

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･･ ⋆ ･

Jeno has that look on his face again, the one that shifts from raunchy to feral hunger, the one that has him reaching to grab you in less than a second.

“I’m still sore..”

“I barely even touched your pussy.” He says cocking an eyebrow, phone dinging in his pocket over and over again. “Was I too mean teddy?” His palm swipes down the curve of your ass, cupping your buttcheek.

Ding. Ding. Ding.

He groans, smacking your butt lightly before reaching to free his phone.

“Shit, my dad’s blowing up my phone.” He huffs annoyed, swiping through paragraphs of text messages. Most yelling at him in all caps lock for not answering his phone. “He needs me to pick up some files from his home office, says it’s urgent. Something about an accident..”

Frustrated, he hoists his bag and adjusts yours on his other arm, nodding toward the end of the hall. “Come on.”

“Jeno, the test—I can’t!”

He sets you with a look that nearly makes you crumble, ready to succumb and follow his orders. “Please, you know my grades..”

Dragging the tip of his tongue between his teeth, he sighs deep and loud, pinching the skin between his eyebrows together. “Fine.”

What?

He looks irritated, upper lip twitching stretched over his teeth trying to control his anger. “But I’ll try to come back later to pick you up. If you take longer than a minute to reply to me, I swear to fucking God—“

“I won’t!” You almost add a ‘thank you’, biting down on your tongue to stop yourself. “I’ll keep my phone within view shot in case of anything..”

Jeno rubs at his temples, shoulders visibly trembling. “Fuck. Whatever. Fine.”

He stops to take in your elated expression, cupping your cheeks, thumbs caressing your soft skin. “Don’t forget, I love you.”

You won’t say it back, he knows you won’t, but he waits for a minute, a flicker of hope passing behind his gaze. “Good luck on your test, I know you don’t need it teddy.”

He leans in and kisses you, full control on his end. Making a real show of it by shoving his tongue down your throat right in the middle of the hallway where everyone watches and whispers nasty remarks. He wants them to see, he wants certain people to see especially. Public display of affection had never been something you enjoyed, or even experienced before Jeno, but he made it something you had to learn to endure.

“Be good.” He says quietly, warningly, slipping your bag from his shoulder. “I’ll see you soon.”

You nearly risk being late to class just to watch him leave, having to run to make it on time. The first time you’ve been alone in days, weeks even. Sitting down at your desk with a sense of relief, a crippling weight lifted off your spine. This test would be a breeze without him there to breath down your neck.

It is really crazy how you turn to the empty seat next to you numerous times though, fully expecting to see him there waiting for the next answer. Finishing off your exam without handing it over to Jeno to ensure he copied all of your answers felt odd, peering at your phone over and over again expecting notifications only to have none.

So. This is life without him. Normal? Not anxiety inducing? Nothing to fear or worry about..

You should know better though, exiting your class blindsided by Haechan leaping in front of you, hooking his arm around yours. “You. In here. NOW.”

“Haechan?! What the hell!” You cough, waving at dust that lifts from the janitor closet floor. Cleaning supplies and clutter surround you, setting in how claustrophobic you feel when he slams the door shut and locks it.

“We need to talk. Right now.”

“About what?!” Pushing him off, you stumble back and glare. Watching his face fall at the sight of your anger.

“About this.” He says, reaching for the charm adorning your neck, flicking the teddy bear. “What’s this bullshit all about? What are you dating Jeno now?? What the fuck is wrong with the two of you.”

“The two of us?! There’s nothing wrong with me?! It’s your fault any of this is even happening to me!” You screech, slapping his hand away.

“My fault?! You low lives are threatening to ruin my future and it’s somehow MY fault??” Haechan bellows, grabbing your upper arms.

“Low lives?”

He scoffs, shaking you with his firm hold. “Don’t change the subject! What the fuck if your problem, huh? Are you making him do this? You two need money that badly?”

Haechan could have just asked about your relationship with Jeno if he really cared. He would have noticed how different you’ve been looking and acting if he really ever cared about you.

“Everything’s about money to you..” you mutter, gaze hanging low.

“To me?! I’m the one being threatened here!” He says in disbelief, burning holes into your face with a crazed look. “I don’t need any money from you or him.”

No. You don’t need anything, do you? Everything’s about you. You you you you…

Jeno was right all along.

“You seriously think I want your fucking money Haechan?!?” You shout, breaking out of his hold to shove him back. “What about me, asshole?!? Do you even give a shit about me! No, you don’t! Because I embarrass you that much, huh?”

“What are you even going on about.” Rolling his eyes, he grabs your wrists before you can pummel him with your fists, teeth gritted. “Of course I give a shit about you, why do you think I’m here?! He’s always hovering around you! It’s impossible to get near you anymore.”

“You’re only here because you think I’m weak.”

“Weak?” Haechan repeats, tossing your arms down. “He’s really brainwashed you, yeah? Made you believe I’m the bad guy here? I’m not the one money hungry enough to destroy years of friendship over some petty jealousy!”

“He hasn’t brainwashed me.” You snap back, nearly adding a lie to make yourself feel better. He doesn’t talk about Haechan that much, and he’s not that jealous..

“Oh yeah? Than what the fuck is this?” His fingers aim for your choker again, sliding the tips under to press along your pulse. “Wearing a collar like a good little bitch?”

“It’s a gift.”

Haechan’s mouth parts in surprise, cocking an eyebrow. “You really like that psychopath, I can’t believe this.”

“Fuck you.” You bite back, wrapping around his wrists. “You have no right to assume anything about me.”

“And me? What about me, huh?” He says soft and low, leaning in closer. “I thought you liked me.”

“You did?” You ask, a bit surprised. You hadn’t made it that obvious, right?

“So, you don’t?” Haechan’s gaze flickers to yours, peering between each of your eyes confused. “Ever since we were kids I thought..”

“Do you like me? Did you ever?”

“Always, I always have.” He says surely, tugging out of your grip. “Not that it matters.”

“W-Why?” You stutter, feeling heat rush to your face. “Because y-you won’t do anything about it? Because I’m nothing but a low life, right?!”

Haechan steps closer, locking you in place against him with his arms tightening around your waist. “You’re not, okay? I’m just mad about Jeno..”

You hate getting angry, because you hate to show how weak you really are, cursing at the first batch of tears that pour from your eyes. You punch at his chest, letting out a tired sob. Tired because of this, everything, tired of holding onto something you never had. “It’s all your fault. He wouldn’t even care about me if it wasn’t for you.”

“What’s my fault?! That your boyfriend’s a certified nut job??”

“This isn’t about him! He’s not my boyfriend!”

“Oh yeah?” Haechan squeezes you in, inching his face closer to yours. “So, you won’t care if I do this.”

The same lips you dreamt about for years come closer, a breath away from finding yours. He pauses to watch your reaction, eyelashes fluttering up and down expecting you to do something to get away. Because Jeno’s girlfriend wouldn’t let another guy kiss her, especially not his new enemy.

It’s nothing like your dreams when he finally goes for it, he’s not soft and nice, he doesn’t move against your mouth like he belongs there. The kiss is rough, fast, sloppy, needy and aggressive. He sees his chance and takes it, sliding his tongue in past your lips as you gasp, lowering his hands to your ass with a fierce squeeze. His dreams had been to strip your innocence, watch your fall apart and scream while he fucked you deep. Nothing like the fairytale stories you’d imagined. Each pass of his tongue against yours indicates his desire, forcing your arms out of his hold to reach for his hair, fisting it and pulling as hard as you can.

“Ahhh! Ahh! Stop!” He whines, lips already swollen.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” You sneer, coiling tendrils between your digits, pulling until his neck arches back and a high-pitched squeak breaks free from his mouth.

“I knew it.” He grits, eyes thinning into a glare. “You’re fucking him, aren’t you?”

“Is that what this is about?! You just need to have everything Jeno has?!”

“You are the one falling for that freak.” Haechan spits, slapping your ass. “Everyone knows Jeno fucks like a fucking crazed beast, you’re not as innocent as I thought.”

“I’m not fucking him.” Technicalities..

“Yeah? And why should I believe you?” He plays with the hem of your skirt, tickling at the skin there. “You say that you like me and yet here you are holding back. I think you’re a liar, trying to protect your crazy boyfriend..”

“He’s not my boyfriend.”

“Yeah?” Haechan steps back, leaning against a shelf full of cleaning products. Reaching below his waist to unbuckle his belt. A bulge sits beneath his zipper, slowly lowering it with his eyes on yours. “Get on your knees.”

“What!?”

He snickers, shoving his boxers and jeans down under his balls. “I said get on your knees.”

He has the audacity to wear a cocky grin, tilting his head back onto the shelf as he begins to gently stroke his cock to full mass. You have to look, have to lick your lips at the sight of his length beginning to chub up in his hold. It’s not enough to subside your anger, marching forward to slam his shoulders back against the shelf. “Who do you think you are?!”

“A guy you like.” He says, voice low, staring at your lips. “A guy who likes you.”

This certainly isn’t normal by any means, you know that, but that doesn’t stop the extra skip in your heartbeat. Doesn’t stop your eyes from trailing down Haechan’s face to where he sucks on his bottom lip, letting it go and bounce shiny with spit. “Now.” Reaching for your mouth, he slides a thumb across your lower lip, pushing down on the fatty center. “Get. On. Your. Knees.”

There’s a cruel edge to his tone, watching you crumble and slip down onto the floor, eye-level to his length. “Don’t act surprised. This is what you want.”

You don’t know what to say, watching your knees settle on the ground before looking up. He strokes at his size lazily, the tip right between your eyes. Nowhere near as big as Jeno, that’s for sure..

“You’ve always had such a pretty mouth, always used it to talk so much shit.” He smirks confidently, bringing the tip closer to your pouty lips. “What are you waiting for?”

Haechan even smells rich from down here, clean, trimmed pubes, a slight musk wafting off his sack. Jeno’s a little different, he’s always hairless, always smells clean in a soft and inviting way. You think he keeps himself extra tidy to entice you more, but maybe that’s just him. Maybe this is just Haechan..

“D-do you have protection?”

“Huh??” He says, surprised, shrugging and reaching for his wallet. “Yeah, whatever.”

He sounds a little ticked off, flicking the condom at your pressed together thighs. Not putting up an argument either way. It’s been awhile since you’ve had to use one of these, and as you unwrap the package you start to wonder why..

Clearing your throat, you nervously reach to grip around the middle of his length. It’s not as heavy in your hold, not as thick, a lot smoother with less prominent veins. The condom rolls down fine, aided by a layer of lube that will surely taste disgusting sliding down your tongue. He’s hissing above you, eyebrows scrunched together focused on your hands and robotic expression, wondering if you’re lying about everything..

“Come on.” Haechan says desperately, reaching to thumb your lip again, a lot messier and more eager. “You want my cock, don’t you?”

Leaning in, you test the feel of it, sliding the tip across your upper lip. Slowly craning your neck up to watch his face fall apart. “Say it. Wanna hear you say it.”

He grips your hair, fingers tingling through your scalp, forcing your neck back further. Plump lips hang open above you, breathily moaning, stuck on his cock dragging your lower lip open. “Say you want my cock like the pathetic fucking slut you are.”

That flicks your eyes open fully, rising from your knees quickly with a tight grasp around his size. “What did you just say to me?!”

Haechan’s jaw hangs limp in shock, letting out a shattered moan when you pull at his length roughly. “Turn the fuck around.”

He listens without even trying to resist, grabbing onto one of the shelfs with your fist still circled around him. “S-sorry.. I thought..”

“Shut the fuck up Haechan.” Grabbing his wrists, you loop them both back and trap them in place against his lower back. Reaching lower with your free hand to smooth over his ass.

“Now, repeat that? What did you just say to me?”

He shakes, turning his face to the side to watch you from the corner of his eye. “Nothing nothing! I take it back!”

“Are you sorry?” You whisper, nipping at his jaw. Fingers skimming between the crevice between his ass.

The vibrations soaring off his body intensify, trembling harder, breathing through his nose gruffly. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” He chants, breaking off into a whimper.

He doesn’t know what you wish he was sorry for. Delivering a slap to his ass and watching it bounce back against the collision, you hum lowly.

“Come here.” He’s easy to whip around, shivering from head to toe excitedly. Ankles weak to walk on as if he could cum already, making it easy to push him down onto the floor.

“Fuck, you’re crazy..” he whimpers, laying back and kicking his legs to get his pants off. He looks more pathetic than the first time you ever met him, sobbing under you, crying for you to let him go.

“It’s your fault.” You mutter, pushing your skirt and underwear off to mount his hips without restraint. “Wish I’d never met you.” You hiss, reaching for his chin to dig your fingers into his cheeks. He blinks up at your blearily, the bright light above you staining his face in a white translucent shade, eyes lost and glossy. He’s pretty, so so so pretty, makes your chest burn and ache. He’s always been pretty, eyelashes fanning across his cheeks slowly with each blink, plump lips shoved out for you to capture.

“You’re so sexy.” He mutters, struggling under your rough grip. “If I’d known—“

“If you had known what?” You sneer, slapping his cheek hard enough for his head to snap to the side, eyes bewildered and surprised.

“Fuck you’re..” he spits, bending forward at his neck to watch your core sit down on his length. “Ahh.. shit I’m still!—” He splutters, head dropping back, hips rutting up as you start to slide against his cock.

It’s easy to take control and feel powerful on top of him like this, shifting back to grab his knees and push them up. “Stay still.” You demand, using force to push the pits of his knees down and hold yourself up. Haechan whimpers from the change in position, feeling small and confined under your figure sitting above him.

“Fuck I’m—not gonna last long. You’re too much.” He’s such a whiny sniveling mess, drooling down his chin, cock twitching against your cunt.

“You like that?” Hoisting yourself up against his legs, you lift enough to line the tip of his cock up to your entrance, hips trembling as you begin to lower and breach your hole.

“Ahhh! Fuck!” Haechan screams pretty, high-pitched, unashamed. His head tosses back fully exposing his Adam’s apple, dainty collarbones. He’s nothing now, nothing but a groveling whore begging to be fucked.

“Say it.” You say full of threat, struggling to keep yourself held up, clawing your nails into the sides of his knees. “Beg me to fuck you.”

The softest cracked moan spills from his red juicy mouth, face dropped to the side looking at you with half-lidded drunk eyes. “Please please, please fuck me.”

He’s nothing, and he could easily be yours.

It’s so easy to mount him, to bury the rest of his length inside of you. It’s less of a struggle to take him than you’re used to, filling you to the brim with a wet splash against his pelvis where you land. He whines and moans through it, making you work to ride his cock faster.

Haechan looks brainless, gorgeous, stupid as fuck with his tongue hung out lavving at the drool pouring from the corners of his lips. Sweaty hands push yours off his knees, holding himself open wider to free your hands. The burn running up your thighs calms as you grab onto his chest and ball his shirt between your fists, short of breath the faster you work to fall into a rhythm.

“Faster, come on, fuck me faster!” He grunts under you, voice loud and ragged over the thunderous clap of your ass crashing down on him.

“Shut the fuck up whore.” You bite, reaching to wrap around his neck for better leverage. Pretty brown eyes go wide, gasping for breath as you tighten around his throat until his head shakes and he sounds empty of air. His cock thrums wildly, urging you to slam down harder, rock your hips faster. The veins along his forehead expand the more he struggles to breathe, mouth hung wide open like nothing but a dumb slut. “Only sluts get off f-from being choked.”

He nods weakly, coughing and groaning, sweaty fingers slipping on and off his legs. “Yes yes, ahhh g-gonna cum.”

“If you cum before me I’ll bite your dick off.” You spit out angrily, freeing his neck to clasp his chin and bury your fingers inside of his slutty mouth. “You useless slut.”

Haechan’s eyes roll back, tongue lapping between your digits, balls colliding with your ass with each heavy thrust. “Ah—ahh!” He gurgles and spits, making a mess around your fingers. “Pl-please!”

The hold on his knees slips free, arms flopping down to his sides, legs landing on the ground hard with rapid tremors shooting through. “Shit!” You grunt, stilling as his length pulses and warmth fills the condom, sliding off before any of it can pour out inside of you. “What did I fucking say?!”

Anger and arousal combined feel similar to a slasher film. Murderous and frightening, craving death around the corner as the music changes to warn you as the next kill approaches. Haechan lays under you out of breath, face covered in sweat and saliva, cock pathetically twitching against his stomach. “Selfish.”

Snapping the condom band into place, you settle back down on his length, making him shout out and shake his head. “No no! That hurts!”

“I said shut the fuck up.” Bending in, you reach for his hair, fisting handfuls to pull on and control the speed of your hips. So useless, so stupid and useless, you deserve better than this. Better than someone who can’t even control his own needs to make sure you both finish and reach pleasure.

Tears brim his eyes as you rock down and roll your cunt against his half-hard soaked cock. The friction of creamy wet rubber rutting against his length more painful than enjoyable at this point, springing droplets down his cheeks.

“You’re so weak.” He nods, has the nerve to agree with you. Biting down on his plush bottom lip to compress a sob, glossy eyes blinking tears out faster.

The broken sight of him sends shivers up your spine, jabbing the tip of his cock against your clit in rapid motion until your hole convulses and draws out a much deserved orgasm.

“Holy shit..” he wheezes out breathlessly, the back of his head hitting the floor painfully as you abruptly release him and move to the side.

Satisfaction courses through your veins, along with something else weighing heavy on your mind..

That was.. interesting. Is that the word you’re looking for? Interesting.

Patting the floor for your skirt, you immediately grab your phone. Jeno hasn’t texted yet. Even more interesting, something really must be wrong with his dad.. you should send him a message first. He might need you right now. Why the hell do you care about what he needs..

“Hey, let’s keep this between us.” Haechan disrupts your inner monologue, patting your shoulder. “Don’t need Jeno seriously spreading those photos around and whatever else he’s blackmailing me with.”

“Does your dad know about your drug use?” You ask, sliding your arm away from his touch.

He frowns, nose wrinkling annoyed. “Why the fuck would he know about that?!”

Because you’re a spoiled brat. Surprised that daddy even cares about his privileged son ruining his future, blowing his father’s hard earned money on more white shit to snort up his nose.

You shrug, buttoning up your shirt. “I guess you have a lot of secrets.”

Like me.

You are one of Haechan’s secrets if you think about it.. his secrets stemming from shame it seems. Because he’s ashamed of you, of the part of his life you remind him of.

“Whatever.” He scoffs, standing uncomfortably, nervously scratching his head.

“Don’t worry.” You reassure, picking up your belongings and grabbing the door handle. “There’s nothing your secrets can provide for me. See you later?”

His frown deepens, chewing on his bottom lip and shrugging. “Whatever.”

“Goodbye Haechan.”

You leave first, emotions unsettled and scattered as you walk down the hall to your locker. It’s nearing the end of the day, thankful that Haechan only made you miss gym class. Jeno always takes longer to fuck you, he likes to make sure you always get off, sometimes he doesn’t even finish..

Jeno. Shit.

‘Waiting for you by the north gate entrance.’

Shit shit shit. What the fuck. Jeno said he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to pick you up today, or that he’d try to, whatever. Not even a heads up?! Nothing to warn you??

Fuck, what if you smell like Haechan?! Knowing Jeno he’d be able to tell. There’s no way you can come up with something quick enough to get him off your ass, another text alerts you demanding for you to hurry up.

‘If you’re not out here in the next 50 seconds I’m coming inside.’

Fuck. You really fucked up this time, fear picks up your pace to jog through the hallway corridor faster, dodging your classmates bodies left and right until you near the exit short of breath and look out to see your… Jeno, stepping out from the driver’s seat.

“There you are.” He smiles, a big smile, the type that reaches his eyes. The one that’s for show, for others to coo and aww at. The one that garners close-to-ear whispers behind hands and eyes bouncing back and forth from you to Jeno.

‘Why her?’

Everyone asks, everyone wants to know. You never asked before, until one day the voices broke you down and found yourself constantly asking- ‘why me?’

You’d never ask Jeno, you never ask him anything.. but right now, as you nervously force your lips into a measly smile, the cramp forming in your stomach nearly makes you trip down the grass hill leading to where his cars parked awaiting you with the passenger door open.

“That’s funny.” Jeno says under his breath, leaning in to wrap around your waist. “You never smile at me.” He whispers near your ear, taking a step back to look over your face. “What’s up?”

The way his head tilts scrutinizing your face makes your chest cave, lips pressed together tightly as his eyelashes lower over his iris the more he lowers toward your neck; the collar of your shirt saves you of any fear that Haechan left behind any incriminating evidence of what took place less than an hour ago.

“Hmm..” Jeno reaches forward before you have a chance to react, tugging you closer by the fanned edges of your collared shirt. “Now why is your top button undone..”

He can see the way your throat jumps, hollowing out between your collarbones with each dry nervous swallow. “And your necklace.”

Your choker, he means. Fuck your choker. The lucid memory of Haechan angrily pulling on the teddy charm adorning the strap squeezing your neck makes your teeth grit, hidden behind your quivering lips.

“Strange.” Jeno’s eyebrows gather together, the gleam in his eyes darkening despite afternoon sun illuminating down on him, highlighting every defined flawless attractive feature. “You’ve never disobeyed me this much before.”

“Wha—“

“You know you’re supposed to always have this uncovered. Why did I dip into my savings and risk getting chewed out by my dad? For you to try to make me a secret?” Jeno finishes buttoning your shirt back up, digits reaching beneath the leather to adjust the charm’s position while adding more pressure, losing the tiny centimeter of space between your neck and the material. “Did something happen while I was gone?”

“No!” Your reactions too fast, fast enough to fully widen his eyes, mouth tensed as he meets your gaze. “I—I had to.. to participate..”

“In what?”

“Physical Ed.. you know I always sit out with you.” Jeno watched your choice of physical activity: yoga, for less than a week before deciding this form of education benefited you in no way. Something about those ridiculous yoga pants you wear for class only seemed to distract a group of guys in the weight lifting class across the gym. He concocted doctor's slips for the both of you to sit out and study instead. “Coach didn’t let me today.. she said there's no way my period cramps last all month. I must have forgotten to fix my necklace after getting dressed, I’m sorry..”

Jeno nods, smoothing his thumb over your warm cheek, hot from anxiety rising the longer you stand there and risk the chance of running into Haechan on his way home. “That bitch. I’ll deal with her tomorrow.”

He pauses again, a contemplative look taking over as he reaches for your hair and smooths down fly aways. “No wonder you look sweaty. Must have been working hard, using all of your body and stamina.” Jeno’s tone lowers to a whisper, gently pressing under your lash line. “Even smeared your mascara..”

“I really should take a shower.” You say, managing to speak quickly without stutter. “Didn’t have a chance to after gym class and the air conditioning must have been broken or something in the homeroom.”

“That’s fine.” Leaning in, his nose presses to your jugular taking a deep inhale. “I like it, smell like you just got fucked.” Reaching for your lower back, Jeno moves you forward toward the passenger seat, the facade of a nice boyfriend(or whatever he is) vanishes with the turn of his head.

You learned quickly to let him do what he wants after receiving nothing but hard stares to shut you down. Jeno wants things done his way, even buckling your seatbelt is his responsibility.

The engine vibrates as you wait for him to settle into his seat and back out of the parking lot, just barely missing Haechan’s exit by a few seconds.

It’s silent on the way to his home, tense and thick. Maybe it’s guilt, your guilt, guilt you can’t understand carrying to begin with. Why should you feel guilty? Does Jeno deserve that? Is it really because Haechan didn’t feel like Jeno? Because he didn’t make you relinquish control, didn’t make you feel special? Is that what Jeno does? He makes you feel like nothing else matters more than you?

Biting your nails raw, down to the rough neglected skin beneath until the tips of your fingers ache, you’re unsure if it's the silence that bothers you more or your spiraling thoughts screaming louder and louder. “Was everything okay? With your dad?”

Jeno comes to a stop at a red light, tapping the steering wheel, lips parting open into a half smile. “I didn’t think you’d ask me.”

He doesn’t turn to look at you, only glances from the corner of his eye, sleek and cold. “You never ask me anything.”

A dry breathy laugh passes through his nose, stepping on the gas again as you near the neighborhood you’ve become more familiar with than your own by now. “Did you miss me that much today, teddy?” He’s grinning, stoically, and if you blink too long you’d miss the way his head shakes in disbelief.

Shutting off his car, he turns and reaches for your chin to lift your face up. It’s your best effort to appear as nothing, not display an ounce of guilt or shame, but not smile or stare back too long— because that would be out of character. “Is there something you need to tell me?”

The gleam passing his gaze is damn near unnerving, adjusting your face side to side as if he’s inspecting for damage. “Did something happen while I was gone?”

The most you give him is a barely noticeable shake of your head, gaze lowered to your lap, nothing too out of the ordinary..

Jeno leans over the space between you, turning your gaze back to him, digits spread out along your jaw for more control. “I think..”

He presses closer, forehead connecting to yours leaving just an inch of space between your nose and lips. Lips that left behind their moisture and shine on another man, a mouth that you fear may still carry remnants of his taste. “My teddy..”

Jeno’s lips graze yours enough to hitch your breath, shutting the seam of your mouth shut. That doesn’t stop him from cupping your face, overtaking power and pushing your lips forward with the pressure of his palms squeezing you in. “You are starting to like me more than you realize.”

He kisses the swell of your pout, biting his lower lip for a second to admire how swollen and worn your mouth looks; as if someone has sucked on the fleshy fat roughly. Someone reckless who could give a shit about you. “Or at least more than you’re ready to admit.”

Jeno lets go, leaving you gasping for breath as he sits back and studies your reaction. “Kiss me.”

It’s not a question, it’s not even a demand, he’s too relaxed. It’s expectant, because you’ll listen to him, if you know what’s good for you; and you do.

There’s no way to crawl between the front seats without it being awkward, having to reach for Jeno’s thigh to keep yourself sturdy. He huffs to mask a laugh, turning away when you direct your pout toward his lips. “Kiss me the way you really want to.”

He knows you don’t want to, but he doesn’t know why; and maybe that’s where your guilt stems from because you can still taste Haechan between your teeth; and the pink flush spread across his mouth stirs a need up from your stomach to your chest.

“Go on.” Jeno’s head rests against his seat, eyebrows raised waiting. You manage to slip onto his lap after banging your knee into the cup holder, gripping onto his shoulders to align your weight onto his crotch. The same way he likes to hold you in the evening while playing games with your head laid on his chest.

Jeno kisses you everyday, he kisses you. You could trace the shape of his lips with your eyes shut at this point, subconsciously you even notice whenever he reapplies chapstick from the light menthol scent and taste alone.

There’s something you’ve noticed over time as you lean in and breathe out nervously across his impatient mouth. Jeno never looks away first, he watches for your response to everything, silently analyzing the tiniest smallest movements. He has to, because you give him nothing, and he does it well. Even now with your eyes falling shut too nervous to look at him up close, he stays tuned in to your bottom lip trembling, the little twitch between your eyebrows and how much your hands shake while gliding up to his neck.

This shouldn’t feel like your first kiss with him, not after everything, but it does. You are the one in control for once and you’re the one applying pressure. Taking time to feel out just how soft his lips actually are when they aren’t roughly prying your mouth open to shove his tongue inside. The tightness beneath your palms even seems to relax the more you move between top and bottom lip, gently sucking and pulling them between yours.

Jeno doesn’t move, he even lets his hands rest by his thighs despite itching to gather your waist and grind you down against him. He wants to see how far you’ll go on your own, especially after today; because maybe you needed this time apart, albeit only a few hours, but maybe you needed to be alone to understand just how much you need him.

“I’m not a good kisser..” you finish with a light as a feather peck at the corner of his mouth, dropping your face embarrassed. “It’s better when you do it.”

Oh? He perks up at that, giving into his desire with hands encompassing your waist. “You are good, you just..”

He rubs up and down your sides, letting out a long sigh while looking you over. “You don’t like me, right?” Jeno bites down a smile, nodding to himself. He knows you’d pour your soul into a kiss with Haechan, you probably dream of some ridiculously romantic rekindling of your relationship with some ridiculous scenario: fixing all the damage with one kiss..

“That’s not it—“

“You don’t.” He nods again, an accepting nod.

And it’s okay, because you still have hope, somehow you still have so much hope that Haechan will save you from this. That your stupid childhood first love still carries you deep within his heart the way you always have, because you have so much good left inside of you in spite of every obstacle put in your way. Jeno likes that, that’s why he befriended Haechan in the first place, because good people are rare to come by.

But Haechan is not a good person anymore, and soon enough your spark will die out too.

“It’s not that Jeno..”

“Let’s get inside, I ordered takeout, should be here soon.” He says with an ordering pat pat pat against your hip, unlocking his door for you to exit first. “You hardly touched your lunch today.”

“Is it okay if I take a shower first?” Having to ask makes your stomach churn, mumbling behind the tips of your fingers finding their way back between your teeth to bite down on your nails.

“Stop doing that.” Jeno gently pries your wrists away, opening the door to his bedroom. “You never shower until after we fuck.”

“Like I said.. the air conditioning..”

Jeno eyes you skeptically, huffing and grinning. “You think I’ll care if you smell a little?” He’s back on you, encasing your waist as he bends in to drag his nose along your throat. “I think you smell sweet.”

“It’s not that.. I just feel gross.”

And you do, you feel extremely gross. More disgusted with yourself than you’ve ever felt after allowing Jeno to defile you. The more you try to push away what you’ve just done, the more unsettled you feel by all of it.

“You wanna change?” He places a light kiss upon your cheekbone, moving away to sit at his computer chair. “Grab whatever you want to wear. Don’t take too long though or your food will get cold.”

Part of you wants to stand there and argue, claim that you aren’t hungry despite the rumble your stomach gives at the mention of warm food; but a hot shower to wash away the remnants of Haechan’s spit and other fluids depletes any will to bother Jeno any longer.

“Are you sure?” You ask, skimming over the drawers lined up against the other side of his bedroom.

Jeno hums, already logging on to play league and waving you off. “Yeah, wear whatever.”

Showering in his bathroom had become very standard, like he said you typically prefer to after the act, but today’s different of course. His bathroom is much nicer than the community one shared by multiple people at your shitty studio complex. The studio you rarely spend much time living in anymore ever since Jeno forced his way into your life.

There is something inside of you that sighs out of relief under the shower stream, stretching your arms out and up high freely, enjoying the quality of bath soaps and shower gels he keeps stocked. Jeno always smells nice, fresh and clean, not smokey and suffocating the way Haechan did..

The memory of his luxurious musky scent has your palms traveling lower, reaching for the shower head to thoroughly clean away any possible trace of him left behind between your legs.

Jeno would go ballistic if he knew.. you aren’t even sure how he’d react, and you don’t want to find out.

“Food’s here?” You ask quietly, still drying your hair by the bathroom door connected to Jeno’s bedroom. He takes a minute to answer, engulfed in the game playing across his computer screen.

“Just got here.” Jeno says, hitting pause to look at you. His lips loosen, jaw opening as he gazes from your feet taking short steps forward to your bare legs and his pink hoodie hanging past your hips. “Wow.”

“What?” You pause, looking yourself over nervously. He said to pick whatever you want to wear, you even double checked with him. He can’t be mad right? Maybe this is his favorite hoodie and now—

Jeno’s eyes soften, scanning up and down your figure as he reaches out and rolls his seat forward to grab your hips. “You look really cute.”

“Oh..” heat drives up your neck, lowering your eyes to look away from the pleased smile that tugs at his lips.

“I should make you wear my clothes more often.” Jeno squeezes up your sides, drawing the fabric to follow his touch and lift over your hips. “Come here.”

Leaning back, he motions for you to climb onto his lap, a bag of steaming hot food sits at the corner of his desk waiting. “But the food..”

He lifts one groomed eyebrow, responding with a silent command to do as he says before he makes you regret it.

“We’ll eat first.” Jeno wraps an arm around your stomach, tugging your back to press against his chest as he reaches for the bag. “Put on whatever you want to watch.”

It’s times like this in his bedroom, as you ease into his hold and pout when he swirls noodles around a fork to feed you with that you can’t help but to feel something.

Something you can’t bring yourself to accept, because that would make him right about everything..

That’s what makes it harder to eat, harder to sit still and let yourself grow too comfortable, harder to laugh when something funny happens on the TV show you chose.

Jeno can’t win, even if he continues to prod your mouth with another spoonful of rice, and softly smiles before licking away a piece from the corner of your mouth. “You’re so cute.” He mumbles, pushing the boxes of food aside. “Turn around.”

“Do we have to?”

Large palms run up your thighs, squeezing as they find a way between your legs to the fleshy meat lined along the outsides of your groin. “You’re cute, but don’t test me.”

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･･ ⋆ ･

Jeno’s been extra clingy ever since that day he had to leave earlier. You can’t say you hate it.. and maybe it gives you an excuse for why Haechan’s been completely avoidant, not looking at you once. You wanted to wave at him, say hi as you passed each other, but with thick biceps belted around you at all times you knew better.

He could just be ignoring you because of Jeno.

He could just be ignoring you because he doesn’t give a shit.

“Really do hate that I have to spend the next hour and a half without you.” Jeno sighs sadly, kissing your cheek. “Fucking hate Philosophy too.”

“It’s just one class.”

“One class that’s stealing precious time I could be spending with my girlfriend.”

There he goes again, that bullshit title he keeps using. It’s almost worse than his constant love bombs. “Second bells about to ring.” You mumble, shoving his arms off.

“Yeah yeah, I know you can’t wait to get away from me.” He pouts, leaning against the door frame, glancing behind you at the area he knows you often set up at. Eyes squinting as he observes one of your classmates. “I’ll be here when you’re done. Be good.”

Or else.

The silent haunting echo follows you to your seat, apprehensively setting your bag down with a subtle peak toward the door to make sure he’s gone.

“How’s the research going?”

A deep voice startles you, jumping up and dropping your belongings. “Crap.”

“Ah, that’s my bad.” He crouches down before you’re even squatted halfway, long hands reaching to gather your brushes and pencils. “Was just asking how the papers going. I really think we should get together to make sure we’re both on the same page. I don’t want you to hate me if we get a bad grade..”

“Get together?!” You splurt out abruptly, coughing on choked spit. “Outside of class??”

The thing is, Jeno didn’t really know about Jisung Park. Why would he? He’s not in this class.

He didn’t know that part of the reason you loved this class so much wasn’t because he’s not in it. No(although that helps). It’s because from the first day you noticed Jisung sitting quietly free-hand drawing beautifully, you wanted to compliment his sketches, get to know him better; ask if he’s always had an interest in art..

But you didn’t, instead you shyly hid your face and looked away whenever he’d glance around. Sure, maybe you happened to notice how attractive he is too, but that didn’t matter to you. It’s not like you had a crush on him or anything..

And it’s not like your stomach exploded with butterflies as everyone paired off for your final project for the semester, leaving you nervously taking steps back and forth looking for anyone available.

Jisung approached you first, asking quietly and shyly. ‘Do you have a partner yet?’

That’s how you ended up here, your norm for the last week being to sit by him during class so you could exchange ideas and work on your final project together.

And that crush you didn’t have ended up becoming very very real. Jisung.. he’s nice, really nice. Genuine and thoughtful, he always asks how your days been, if you have any plans later on, tries to get to know you with curious and non-invasive questions.

It’s easy to bond over your love and appreciation for art, and he thought it was cool that you once dreamed of illustrating mangas(until capitalism and reality set in). He sparked light around the dark corners you hide in. Your secret, something only for you, something Jeno couldn’t ruin or touch..

“Yeah. You can come over to my place tonight? My parents both work late hours so we shouldn’t have any interruptions.”

An invite to his place, where you’d be alone. Only the two of you, no Jeno..

“Your place? Tonight?”

“Yeah? If that’s okay with you?” Jisung smiles apprehensively, reaching to scratch at his sideburn. “I’d like to keep my perfect GPA intact.. it’s okay if you can’t, I don’t mind completing the bulk of it myself.”

“No no, that’s not fair.” You wave him off, biting at your nail. “I’ll uhm, yeah—no, yeah, I’m free later. Write down your address.” Sliding him your notebook, you reach for your phone to text Jeno under your desk. This is for school, for your perfect GPA.. he needs to be understanding.

Jisung perks up and scribbles down where you can meet him after school, clapping his hands together. “I’ll set some snacks out for us, I’m sure we’ll be working hours into the evening.”

Hours into the evening.. Jeno won’t like that.

Jeno doesn’t like that. Immediately shooting down your messages with a flat out ‘no’.

It came down to begging, explaining to him on the way to your next class how important this extracurricular course is for your future internship applications, even your counselor said that. It’s not a good look if you only excel in your non-creative courses, unless you plan to apply for a job that requires zero social interaction and teamwork.

‘Good luck with that.’ Your counselor mumbled, signing you up for this art class in the first place.

“The whole purpose of being here is for you to finish partnered work here.” Jeno snaps, shaking his head. “Who’s your partner anyway?! Why haven’t you mentioned this until now??”

“We only barely received the project yesterday!” You lie, looking at anything else but him. “My partner.. Hani!” Thinking fast you blurt out the first classmate you can think of, praying to yourself that Jeno doesn’t know her.

“Hani?” He repeats, seeming pleased to hear a girl's name. “And what time are you supposed to meet?”

It took further convincing, a little bit of bribery, maybe you skipped Yoga to suck him off in the bathroom. But it worked, Jeno seemed at ease after hearing that your classmate Hani was counting on this project to keep her grades up. Your scholarship requirements too, sure.

“Call me when you’re done.” He says, parking on another street nearby you’d given him directions to, just in case..

“Of course.. it might be late.”

Jeno grumbles, leaning over to kiss you until your lips feel bruised and tender. He kisses like it could be the last time he’ll ever see you, but that never makes you react. He always kisses like that..

“Love you.”

You nod, stepping out and waving him off, letting him know that Hani takes the bus home and you’ll have to wait a few minutes longer. He seems hesitant to drive off at first, only finally taking off out of the street when his dad calls him about something.

Phew.

Panic and fear get shoved down as you make your way to Jisung’s actual address. You shouldn’t be this nervous, it’s just a project..

With your crush, alone, together, only the two of you. That’s why you stand at the front door to his house for a while, shifting from foot to foot, playing with the strings of your backpack.

Jeno would be really mad if he found out about this. What would be worse? Lying? Or Jisung? There’s no way he would have allowed for you to come here alone, without him. Lying was your only option..

Taking a deep breath, you reach for the doorbell, gasping as it flies open immediately.

“You made it!” He smiles, toeing off his shoes, still wearing the same outfit from earlier. “I just got in myself, had to jump the backyard fence because I must have dropped my key, sorry. Were you waiting long?”

“Oh no.. it’s fine.” You mumble, passing through and removing your shoes quietly. He seems even taller now, walking next to him in nothing but socks.

“You must be hungry, let’s raid the pantry real fast before heading to my room.”

His room, you’ll be alone in his room..

Jisung’s a couple of years younger than you, and it’s evident when you step inside of his bedroom and take in the different toys he has scattered about; moving around to throw his jacket over a pile of stuffed animals displayed in one corner.

“Shall we?” He says, motioning to sit at his desk, dropping the bags of chips and cookies he found. “I’ve already wrapped up the bulk of writing, and cited everything, we just have to go over key points for our presentation.”

“Oh, that’s great. Thank you for doing all of that.” You smile, sensing heat rise up to your cheeks. His parents must not use the air conditioning much..

He snorts breathily, shrugging. “You seem really busy, with your boyfriend and all..”

“He’s not my boyf—he’s,” trailing off, you shake your head and grab your notes. “Let’s focus on this so we can try to finish early.”

“You’re always with him..” Jisung sits up awkwardly, playing with his knuckles. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed anything. You’re right, let’s uhm, get to work.

To your surprise Jeno doesn’t blow up your phone with texts, and you think about his dad again. He never did tell you what happened that day.. he should share personal things with you if he expects you to start trusting him. To build some solid type of relationship with him. The skin around your nails practically screams and begs to be left alone as you bring your fingers up to your mouth and begin to bite at anything you can find. He should have texted you by now..

“Something wrong?” Jisung asks, ruffling his fluffy black hair. “You seem a little distracted.”

“Oh, it’s nothing.”

“We’ve been working for two hours,” he nods, setting down his pen and organizing what you’ve finished so far. “Let’s take a break, I can really use one too.”

A break? Your eyes widen, following his figure as he stands and stretches his arms up, tight shirt lifting up his stomach halfway giving your curious gaze a real show. “Come on, our brains are probably in overdrive after a day of classes and now this, you should lay down for a bit.”

Lay down?!

Motioning to his bed, he smiles and directs you to follow with his chin. “Come on, I won’t bite.” He says sitting down, patting the empty space next to him.

Oh, but you might.

Stealing one more glance at your phone, you set it screen down on his desk, getting up and pretending to yawn. “You’re right.. sometimes I don’t know when to stop.”

Jisung laughs lightly, falling back and letting out a long sigh. “Me too, my grades mean a lot to me. I’m trying to get an internship this summer at Lee Corp.”

“No way!” You say excitedly, staying sat up on his bed and leaning on your palm to look at him. “I am too! Which program are you going for?”

“Engineer of course, they pay the best out of everyone in the country. Did you read that Forbes article? Haechan’s father must be a genius.”

You hum, brushing off the comment about Haechan, he’s the last person you want to talk about right now. “I was thinking about Global Affairs.. I really think a lot of their apps could expand and excel in foreign countries.”

Jisung laughs, smiling up his eyes, clasping his hands together on his stomach. “Look at us trying to relax.. we still end up talking about work.”

“I guess you’re right.. I’m not the best at, uh, relaxing?”

Jisung sits up on his elbows, eyebrows lifted as he looks at you. “I could.. make some suggestions.”

“Uhhh..”

He lets out an awkward laugh, turning onto his side and scratching his neck. “Sorry, that was lame. It’s just uhm, since you said you don’t have a boyfriend, I’ve been thinking..”

Shit.

He sucks in his thick pink bottom lip, biting down nervously. “I’ve always thought you were real cute, but you’re always with that guy so I kept my distance.”

“You, y-you did?” You stammer, clearing your throat and sitting up straight. “Ah, that’s—that’s nice. I mean, thank you.”

Jisung sits up, long bangs falling into his eyes as he tilts and stares at you in a way you’ve never had anyone look at you. There’s softness in his gaze, exposing his teeth as he leans closer to your face, huffing under his breath. “I’m not good at this, but I’d really like to kiss you right now..”

Kiss?!?

“Is that okay?” There’s a tremble in his voice, dipping in closer until your noses are less than an inch apart.

No. It’s not okay. You shouldn’t even be here right now. But isn’t it okay? Aren’t you in this relationship with Jeno against your will? Hasn’t Haechan been ignoring you for days? This could be your only chance at something normal.. someone who actually likes you for you.

Jisung’s heart looks damn near ready to break judging by the way his pout begins to droop, it’s instinct to rectify what you’ve caused that has you pressing forward; the first to brush your lips together. He lets a staggered breath free, moving to cup around your throat to deepen the kiss. It’s soft, nice, slow enough that you can process and absorb every small caress of your lips against his.

“I really..” he sighs out a laugh, tapping the end of his nose to yours. “Could help you relax..”

You deserve this, right? Why even question it? You like him, he likes you, and a part of you fully expected(or wanted) this to happen.

“Okay..”

Maybe the soft innocence radiating off of him is moreso the difference in your age. But there’s something about the way Jisung gently lays you down and places a pillow beneath your head. He kisses you again, and again, and again, slowly working your mouth open to allow his tongue to roam freely and explore.

It’s nice and calm without overstimulating your arousal, not until his fingers trace along your throat, pulling back with a smile that asks for permission.

Assuming he expects more you squirm anxiously, helping him slide his hand lower down your stomach to the button of your jeans. “Can I?” He asks, again, always checking in to confirm you’re okay with his next move.

You help him by shimmying out of your jeans, allowing for his hand to dip inside of your underwear as you continue to kiss and arch up at the first graze of long thick fingers swiping between your folds. His hands are warm, movements fluid and practiced, collecting the wad of wetness at your entrance to rub over your clit and begin stimulating your nerves. You can’t help to think- this is how it’s supposed to be, getting to know your body first with soft strokes, feeling the different parts of you to learn what gets you off.

“Wanna eat you out.” Jisung whispers against your mouth, trailing two digits lower to press against your hole. “Wanna taste.”

You nod eagerly, much too eagerly, kicking your jeans off to the floor, lifting your hips to invite him inside. He rubs circles around your entrance teasingly, tapping a few times before pulling out to sit up on his knees and tug off his shirt.

Jisung may be younger, but his body’s built nothing short of a man. Muscles line his stomach, arms firm and flexed as he pushes off his pants and climbs back onto the bed in nothing but a snuggly fit pair of boxer briefs. He pushes your top up under your breasts, hands large enough to hide the base of your stomach when they lay flat on top of you and begin to slide down to your underwear. “Like your panties..” he whispers, leaning down to trace the rose on your mound, making your hips twitch.

He likes them enough to not even take them off, laying down on his stomach to drag his nose down the damp seat of your panties. God Jeno would never— stop thinking about him. Stop saying what he’d do, he doesn’t exist. Jisung’s the one between your thighs, collecting your underwear to one side and taking a deep breath. “You’re just as pretty down here..”

His deep voice makes your toes curl against the bed, bending your knees up to grant him more access. “Can I touch?”

Nodding eagerly, you lift your hips again for him to push your folds apart, groaning as his thumb presses to your clit. “Like it when I do that?”

“Yes.. use your mouth..”

Jisung groans, half whimpering, tucking his face lower between your thighs. Thick lips suction around your clit, sucking the nub between and flicking his tongue out. His slow polite manners dissipate the more he ruts against his bed and sucks around your bundle of nerves. “Taste as good as you look.” He murmurs, long tongue dragging down to your tight hole to lap inside.

“You’re getting real wet.” He breathes out, cursing. Ducking back down to lick a fat stripe from your contracting wet hole to your clit. His tongue laves between your folds, spilling saliva and wetness across each, dipping his tongue in and out. He suckles on your clit, big hands splayed on your inner thighs pushing them further open to jam his tongue deeper inside.

You need more, fingers twitch midair before reaching into his hair and scratching at his scalp. “More!”

Jisung growls, shoving his face in until his nose digs against your bundle of nerves, panting against your opening with his tongue flicking against your inner walls.

He pulls back to glide two fingers inside, taking the chance to tug firmly on his scalp and shake your head. “Do y-you have a condom?”

Surprise paints his delicate face, appearing obscene with your arousal hanging from his chin. He nods quickly and jumps from the bed to slam open his bedside drawer and pull out a wad of protection. “I have a ton!” He scurries back onto the bed and grabs onto your knees, wide-eyed and dazed. “I mean.. do you want to?”

“Mhm..” you nod, sitting up to kiss up his neck, ripping the packet open and shoving your hand inside of his briefs.

You wish he would shut up just a little, favoring the breathy whines and whimpered moans he lets out when you finally wrap around his length and slide down the condom.

Jisung kisses you again, sucking on your bottom lip until it swells, licking across the fronts of your teeth. He lowers you back down comfortably and shoves his boxers down, length jumping up and slapping against his stomach.

“Y-you’re not like..” Jisung stutters, laughing to himself as he positions to line his cock up to your cunt. “Like a virgin?”

This is why you wish he’d shut up, gritting your teeth before forcing a smile. “Of course not.”

“Ah, figured.. wanted to be sure.” He takes a deep breath and cups your hips, inching forward slowly. “If it hurts—“

“I’ll let you know.”

It stings a little once he’s sheathed in half deep, he’s big, most of all thick. But the pain feels familiar, something you crave now..

“Come on.” You encourage, lifting your hips to fuck the rest of his length inside. “Fuck me, come on.”

Jisung gasps, long and choked, falling forward and catching himself by grabbing onto your shoulders. He watches your hips cant up for a minute, literally riding his cock, pussy slapping against his pelvis.

“Fuck, oh my God..” he croons, sounding out of breath already.

“Fuck me!” You beg, clinging onto his waist to scratch your nails down his flat tight stomach. “Please please, fuck me.”

Jisung snaps, nodding furiously as he crawls forward on his knees and hooks your thighs over his hips, throwing his hips into action to ram inside of you faster.

“Yeah yeah, just like that!” You whine, fucking him back to make him match your speed.

His hands reach for your waist, slamming in harder until you’re gurgling and writhing in his hold. Cock sliding in and out so wet and deep, the pain completely gone, only receiving pleasure with each meet of your hips.

It’s still missing something, something that has you reaching between your bodies to pinch your clit between two fingers. Nodding and panting for him to keep going. “S-so close.”

His palms land flat around the sides of your head, gripping the bedding in tight fists, using the leverage to drop his hips down faster. Fuck his cock in deeper and harder.

The sight of him above you, pale, muscular, black hair in his face, it’s enough to drift your mind away somewhere else. Shutting your eyes as heat burns up from your gut to your chest. Clit gone numb from your ferocious rubs, you twitch and cry out. The squeeze slowing him down as you clamp around him and begin to cum.

“Yesyesyes!” Through your blurry vision you can see him crumbling on top of you. Forcing his cock in past your tight heat, if not for how pitchy his moans sing out you’d swear..

“Ah, I’m c-cumming! I’m cu-cumming!” Jisung’s face tightens up, kissing the backs of his teeth. Hips locked in place, cock twitching as he fills up the condom with warmth. He pants and hangs his head between his shoulders, hips circling on more time before pulling out slowly. An audible pop resounds once he’s emptied you, flopping onto the bed by your side, stripping the condom off to give his dick a break for a moment, he throws it aside and lays back catching his breath. “No better way to relax than that..”

You wish you could say the same, already seeking your nails to chew on. That couldn’t have been too long, right? You need to check your phone, Jeno could have surely hunted you down by now if you’d even taken longer than a minute to respond. Maybe he’s really trying to respect your boundaries for once. Either way, you need to get out of here.

Tip toeing on to his bedroom floor, you step back into your clothes, quietly gathering your things to not wake him. Waking him could lead to conversation and more time you’d have to spend here..

There’s something you can only describe as guilt infiltrating your mostly pleased thoughts. Sneaking out of Jisung’s house was easy, scribbling off a note quickly that you’d see him at school later.

Jeno could be waiting outside where he dropped you off, you told him not to.. but he worries about you a lot. He’s always worried about you, it’s nice actually. It’s nice how much he cares about you, hell.. he checks in on you more than even your own parents.

God. What the hell are you thinking? Who cares if he worries about you. He’s a fucking psycho is what he is. Why are you even thinking about him right now? After everything that’s happened.

Jisung’s really nice, he’s really smart, seems to have a good head on his shoulders. Yet Jeno.. Jeno feels like an infection you can’t find the cure for at this point. He’s everywhere, every time you shut your eyes, whenever you wake up, he’s the first person you think about, the first person you want to see.

This is ridiculous, you’re just tired, that’s it. Too tired to wait for Jeno to come get you. It’ll be best to take the bus back to your studio today, he’d probably make you go home with him and keep you up way too late. His bed may be nicer than yours, sure. His bathroom an actual personal bathroom, and as your ‘boyfriend’ he always makes sure you’re well fed. The grumble your stomach lets out doesn’t go unnoticed, ignoring it as you pick up your phone to shoot off a text message.

‘Really tired. Heading home. See you in the morning.’

Reading over your text before sending it, you chew at dry skin around your nails, dropping your hand quickly as if Jeno’s slapped it down again. He always does, reprimands you whenever you bite your nails or rip the dead skin off with your teeth. He does it because he cares about you, right?

Fuck him. Seriously fuck that asshole.

Pressing your thumb down earnestly, you send the text and shut your phone off, bringing your thumb up to your lip to rip off an annoying piece of skin.

“Shit.” You hiss, shaking off your hand. More came off, opening a wound and stinging around the cuticle. Shining with red blood that rushed to fill up the divots around your nail bed.

Jeno would probably glare at you, raise your thumb to his mouth to suck on. He’d make it hurt less..

Brushing those thoughts aside, you pocket your fingers and tighten your jacket, making your way toward the nearest bus stop. He won’t like that you turned off your phone, he won’t like that you took public transport home instead of waiting for him, he doesn’t like anything really.

Except you..

It’s been a long while since you’ve taken the bus home, and it’s late, mostly empty. It’s hard to not notice a couple curled up in one of the two seaters, laughing at something on a phone together. Sometimes you watch things with Jeno, and you try to keep your amusement at bay, you try to emit nothing other than misery, but it’s become something you secretly look forward to these days..

Why do you keep thinking about him? What if Jisung’s texting you? Glancing at your blacked out phone screen, you wonder if he is, he could be.. Jisung seems to like you. He seems normal..

Normal could be nice.

Normal.

Why can’t you and Jeno be normal? What if you are?

Coming home alone without him by your side seems odd now. This isn’t normal anymore, this isn’t your normal anymore.

Jeno is your normal.

As you crawl into bed and take a deep sigh, you can’t help but to wrap yourself up tighter, curl up into a more fettle helpless position, and you can’t stop the tears that erupt from your eyes until they blur your vision and make your head pound.

He should be here, he should be here to keep you safe and warm, but he’s not, and nothing feels normal anymore. ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･･ ⋆ ･

One thing about Jeno you’ve noticed is that he is always on time. He’s extremely punctual, and if he’s not, he always, without fail, will make sure to alert you with a call or text.

Today’s different.

Because even when you turned your phone on this morning and rubbed sleepy dry tears from your swollen eyes, no notifications from Jeno appeared.

Jisung had sent a few messages, thanking you for a great time and hoping you made it home safe. The last text you sent Jeno hadn’t even been opened, and his read receipts have always been turned on for as long as you’ve known him..

He’ll show up outside of your complex at 8 o’clock on the dot as usual. Maybe he forgot to charge his phone(that’s unlike him).

But 8am comes around, and his car doesn’t round the corner, and minutes tick by, and he doesn’t show up. Each glance at your phone screen feels more like a plea for something, silently begging for a text or call to appear. Something to indicate he’s on his way, maybe traffic is heavier than usual today..

‘Hey. I’m waiting outside.’

You never add emojis. Keep messages as short and simple as you can. It would come across as too nice, too weird given the dynamic of your relationship, but that doesn’t stop your thumb from hovering over a smiley face before hitting send. Shaking it off, you watch the minutes go by, nursing the cut up cuticle you ripped off last night between your lips. If you don’t leave soon to catch the bus you’ll be late.

One more minute, you’ll wait one more minute before running to catch the next bus.

‘Is everything okay?’

What if he got into an accident? Did Jeno even make it home yesterday after dropping you off? What if he’s in a hospital bed somewhere, disfigured, all alone without anyone to keep him company? What are you even thinking right now?!

It doesn’t calm your nerves a bit that he hasn’t opened a single text message you’ve sent. Doesn’t help as you cram onto a crowded bus and worry your thumb down to raw skin, biting every little piece you can get your teeth on. Doesn’t help that you can’t stop glancing at your phone, envisioning each terrible outcome.

He’ll be at school, he’ll be waiting at your lockers and walk you to class, sit by your side as usual. Throw out an assload of compliments that piss you off, stare at you and play with your hair. It’s fine, everything is fine, he’s a good driver. How could he possibly get into an accident? Jeno? Never.

But he’s not waiting at your lockers, even as you stand around longer peering up and down the hallway for him to show up. You can’t ask anyone if they’ve seen him either, it’s not like you know anyone to ask.

He’s not in your first class, doesn’t show up for second period, or third, and your phone never once dings with a new notification.

Even as your names are called out to grab attendance and you silently pray he’ll appear at the classroom door out of breath, finding your surprised gaze on him. A huge smile will stretch his cheeks into a bundle of wrinkles, eyes disappearing when he meets yours.

But that doesn’t happen, and in a panic you send off a slew of text messages, biting your nails down to nothing but raw skin.

‘Is everything okay Jeno? Did your phone die?’

‘I’m at school. Should I meet you for lunch somewhere?’

‘Are you sick?’

There’s no way to explain the fear clawing at your chest, the rumble in your stomach, the ache that pangs through your heart. It’s not because you care about him, he doesn’t deserve that from you, not even out of human decency. But maybe, just maybe, you are worried, because Jeno’s face has become such a normal part of your daily life. His light touches, a gaze that never loses sight of you, a powerful aura that wraps you up behind an invisible shield that makes you feel safe. As insane as it feels to even contemplate, you can’t help it.

He’s a disease, streaming through your blood, destroying all of your white blood cells and leaving you with no option other than to rely on him to survive. Some may even consider that love, if you think about it.

He sought you out in the first place, didn’t he? Took notice of something special in you that clearly no one else does. Like right now as you walk to your locker, head hung low, no one cares. No one’s looking at you, no one notices you or sees you. They always see you when Jeno’s by your side. He’s the bright light that illuminates around you, and you? You’re nothing.

Jeno made you something though. He made you his.

How hasn’t he replied yet?!? What the hell is his problem! You’d scream if you could, that’s how desperate you feel, not even a god damn text? Nothing?!

You could always leave.. take the bus to his house. It’s possible he is severely injured after all, his parents might not even have a clue. It’s the least you can do, at least inform them that their son’s on his deathbed because of a horrific accident. Because that’s the only logical explanation you can fathom for why he hasn’t attempted to contact you even once since yesterday. It’s your fault too, if he really got into a bad car wreck after dropping you off. Yeah, you should definitely take the rest of the day off, it’s the right thing to do..

Adding speed to your steps, you rush toward your locker to grab your bag, prying it open quickly and nearly missing the folded note that slips out. A note.. with very familiar handwriting. A note in your locker after all this time, exactly like the ones you used to receive..

‘It’s been awhile hasn’t it angel? I haven’t felt the need to speak to you like this in such a long time now it seems. We have grown so close now, there are times I catch your gaze wandering away from me. I realize in those moments how much I’ve truly given up for you.

I lost my friends, carry guilt on my back of getting caught; that Haechan will find the courage to snitch me out.. The chance of my father disowning me for ruining his one chance to free himself from this impoverishment. In those moments I know you look away silently praying for someone to save you, when really, it’s been me all along.

I’ve only ever wanted to save you because you deserve better than this. I’m waiting for you, I know you’re smart enough to find your way.

-Your Teddy Bear’

This has to be a sick joke, you fully believe this has to be a sick joke; but your lip twitches, your tongue presses to the fronts of your teeth, and you can feel moisture itching at the backs of your eyes.

Jeno hadn’t picked you up today, he never sent a message to explain why. The last he’d spoken with you was on the car ride over to Jisung’s, and even then you never said much. He hadn’t said much either if you really think back, stay silent for most of the drive.

The last place you want to revisit is room 0423 after that day.

‘I’m waiting for you.’

Stoic and zombie-like your feet drag through the halls finding your way to the abandoned sector of the school. Because he’s waiting, and like a fool you’ve been waiting for him too.

You couldn’t process a thought, mindless as you found your way in front of the door that read 0423 before you. At this point there isn’t much else Jeno can pull to surprise you. Probably planning a setup of some sort to commemorate the day he met you, since it matters to him so much.

“Don’t act shy and stand out there forever, I’m waiting.” His voice echoes through the small opening, leaving the door cracked enough for you to know to come inside.

Everything appears to be the same as you remember, other than the giant teddy bear Jeno gifted you sitting at the teacher's table, his back facing you from where he sits on one of the student desks at the front row.

“Took you long enough to show up. I expected you’d be sick to your stomach without me, buried with your face in a porcelain bowl. Although, I must say, your messages have been quite entertaining.” Jeno begins to speak, his back muscles flexing as he laughs sarcastically. His neck bends forward, nodding to himself. “I won’t lie, I didn’t expect even that much from you. I dare say, you seemed frantic, worried even..”

“Why did you want me to come back here?” You ask softly, inching closer to where he sits. Jeno listens to the sound of your sneakers drag against the linoleum floor, he listens to your calm breath, he listens to your nails scratch by on each desk you pass, and he smiles stiffly.

“You really think I’m stupid, don’t you?” Jeno’s teeth grit, fisting a remote control in his grip. He stands up abruptly in a way that startles you. Instinctively lifting your fists to cover your face as you gasp. Rolling his eyes, he grips onto a curtain near the corner covering up an old school television, and he turns to face you.

If looks could kill, you know that you’d be laid out on the floor bleeding out right now. He bores into you with a laser sharp gaze, slicing through your chest with a level of intensity he’s kept calm for weeks.

“Answer me.”

Jeno’s throat shakes, his knuckles saturated in white, cuts of blood red and hues of pink from punching who knows what or who.. and for a quick second you think he may cry as he rapidly blinks away moisture that’s teetering at the brims of his eyes.

“No Jeno.. I don’t think you’re stupid.”

“I’ve never liked when you lie.” He nods, sniffling loud and hitting play. “You always look dead behind the eyes when you lie, did you know that? Because even you know that deep down inside no matter how much you hate me, lying isn’t your style.”

The black tv screen illuminates, a dim video of sheets that make your eyes squint, familiar..

“Is that—“ the camera zooms out before you can even speculate, cutting off your breath. “N-no—there’s no wa—“

Jeno sneers, dragging the back of his hand across his eyes and nose. He turns the volume up until your pleasured moans resound throughout the classroom, cascading down the walls and your frame like lashings. The camera doesn’t bother to focus on Jisung once, zoomed in on your face, your mouth hung open, the lines formed between your eyebrows.

“H-how..” bile rises up your throat, stepping back until your butt meets the ledge of a desk. There’s no way Jeno could have known, how HOW could he—

“I know what you’re thinking.” He says smoothly, the tears dried up and gone. Spinning on one foot to face you and waved the remote in your direction. “You thought he really liked you, right?”

“N-no it’s n-not that—“

“What did I tell you about lying?” He grite, placating you with a cold hard stare. “I could have saved us the trouble of dealing with any of this. I knew from the second I saw you talking to him in class, I knew from that moment. You looked so happy.” He scoffs, head shaking, pausing the video. “You looked so fucking happy and hopeful, the same way you looked when I saw you talking to Haechan in the library before.”

He takes a deep dramatic breath, tossing the remote aside, arms free to cross over his chest and lock you in place with one of the most fear-inducing looks you’ve ever seen. “You never look at me like that. You never even tell me that you love me, and you pretend..” Jeno shifts back, turning his body away from you. “You pretend to hate me.”

Everything inside of you screams to say something, to tell him that he’s wrong, that you do hate him. But there’s that pain in your chest again, the one that feels worse than any pain you’ve ever felt, worse than when Haechan moved away and slowly forgot about you. Worse than when he ignored you after you had sex..

It’s a pain that only Jeno can pull out of you. It’s denial, hate, love, anger, fear, obsession, worry, and right now, that pain fills you with terror. He knows, and more than worrying about what he’ll do to you, you can’t stop the tears from flowing out at the thought of losing him.

“I-I’m sorr—“

“Stop.” He snaps quickly, fully turning away and motioning to the classroom stock closet. “You can come out now.”

Through your bleary vision, you see him come out, big smile, broad and tall. Cocky as he clasp hands with Jeno and shoots you a wink over his shoulder. “You’ll send me a copy too, right?”

“Get the fuck out.” Jeno jeers, crashing his shoulder into Jisung’s side. “Good job though, the money should be in your account.”

“Yeah of course man, anytime.” He smirks before turning to face you, winking as he makes way to pass by you. “And you, I really did have a good time last night.” He leans it quickly to whisper. “If this weird shit you have going on doesn’t work out, you know where to find me.”

“Please…please!” You stammer, feeling overwhelmed and overheated the longer you have to listen to yourself get fucked through all of this. Every bit of confusion struggles to clear as your mind rages and grows heavy, painfully beating through your skull. “Turn it off! Please!”

Jeno snickers, ripping the TV’s power cord out. “Not that you deserve peace of mind right now.” He mumbles, petting the teddy bear he gifted you on your anniversary. “What were you thinking?”

“I..”

What were you thinking??? Obviously you were thinking that your classmate who you’ve secretly had a small liking for may have a small liking for you in return. There’s nothing else to say, you fell right into Jenoms trap, you always will..

“Don’t answer that.” He says, turning toward you with an unrelenting penetrating gaze. “I know what you were thinking. I always know what you’re thinking.”

He steps closer, trapping you against the desk holding your weight up. Weakness takes over your ankles and knees, dropping head head to hang, too ashamed to even look at him. More embarrassed than ashamed.. why should you feel ashamed?

“You thought a guy like that could seriously like you? What’s it going to take for you to learn this lesson?” Jeno continues, voice cutting deep and sharp. “No one here will ever like you except me. Jisung may pity fuck you out of boredom, but he’d never bring a girl like you home. He’d never take you serious, he’ll never give a real fuck about you.”

“T-this whole time..” you stutter, biting down on your lip. “You k-knew this whole time.”

“Pft.” He bends in to meet you eye level, still standing straight to loom over your slouched frame. “I’m always watching you.”

Jeno’s tongue clicks, whistling lowly, taking a step back to snap his fingers in a sarcastic manner. “You know who else could give a shit about you? Haechan.” He nods, finding your red wet eyes. “Haechan who hasn’t acknowledged your existence ever since that day.”

“N-no..” tremors vibrate up your throat, gripping onto the desk beneath you to keep yourself up. “There’s no way..”

“I had a sliver of hope, you know?” He sighs, rubbing at his temples. “I thought maybe you finally understood that Haechan could give a fuck about whatever it is you used to have. That stupid childhood friendship you cherish and hold onto still.” He pauses to look at you, blinking glassy eyes away. “I can’t trust you, even after all that I do to prove to you that you belong with me.”

“This—this isn’t—“

“Haechan—he’ll never love you, he’ll never see you as anything more than some poor loser from his past.” He interrupts, hissing between his teeth. “Jisung, even fatter chance. I’ve explained this to you so many times now. When will you get it.”

“Why are you doing this to me?!” You screech, louder than you even thought possible. Tears rush towards your chin, digging your nails into the cheap old desk wood. “Why me?!?”

Jeno scoops your face, thumbing your wet cheeks softly, almost gently. His own eyes shake, pouring out from the corners. “Because.” He breathes in deep through his nose, wet voice coming out shattered. “I love you.”

I love you I love you I love you. Those three words repeat over and over again, a face full of anger turning into one you can hardly recognize anymore, fingers dug into your cheeks as if he can somehow force you to believe him this way. It hurts to watch more than anything, as Jeno crumbles and falls to his knees, arms wrapped tight around your hips screaming manically that he loves you.

He. Loves. You.

Haechan doesn’t love you, and a guy like Jisung could never love you..

He’s right. Jeno’s right. He’s been right from the very beginning. You could have listened, avoided all of this? The normalcy you wished to have with him, whatever that could have been.. if it ever could have been.

“Why won’t you love me?!” He sounds broken, distraught, hopeless. The hug around your lower half burns, feels like you’ll never be free, you’ll never get away from him.

You don’t want to get away from him anymore.

“I love you, Jeno..” you can hear your voice empty of life as it exits your lips. The image before you too blurry to even make out past your tear-filled gaze. “I love you.”

The grip on your hips loosens, tears calming to a round of sniffles, he stops shaking and slowly lifts his face to look at you. “Say that again.”

Cold, emotionless, demanding. That’s the tone you’re used to..

“I love you.”

Jeno stands back up, quickly cleaning his eyes off with the heel of his palms. A large smile altering the anger and sadness he just displayed seconds ago. “My Teddy.”

He rambles, words slurred together as you fail to process anything that’s just happened. Could this have ever been normal? Or is this simply who Jeno is? He’s obsessive, crazed, dominant and deranged.

“I know you love me.” He sighs happily, tugging you in close and rubbing along your spine. “I knew when you made Jisung put on a condom.”

The way spit clogs up your throat at that makes you choke on your next breath, Jeno’s laugh rumbling against your chest as he pats your back to help you. “I thought so after you made Haechan use one, but this really confirmed it. You wanted to hurt me, wanted to make me jealous..” his voice lowers, shifting to whisper in your ear. “But deep down inside you know I’m the only one you want to fuck you full of cum.”

There’s no point in questioning anything, you know he hates when you do that. You know that he has ways to find out things that you can’t begin to understand. “I know baby, that’s why I had to replace your prescription too. Those mints you always popped in your mouth after eating lunch. It’s cute how you play these little mind games with me..”

Mints?! The birth control you started taking after.. that first time. You knew he was evil, mentally deranged, but fucking your with medication?!

“M-my mints??” You ask in disbelief, having to bite down on the backs of your teeth to stop your jaw from hanging.

Jeno waves a finger at you, tapping your nose. “I don’t believe in that birth control shit.”

And there it is, the same Jeno you became familiar with in this very room. The same one that turns your dreams into nightmares, that makes you look over your shoulder constantly, the one that’s imprisoned you in this inescapable hell.

“It’s cute how you still think you can out-smart me.” He says sternly, pinching your chin. “But nothing about your constant lying is cute.”

He leans in close, eyes wide open taking in your despair, licking up the tears that seem endless. Everything, all of this, you were never going to win. Winning was never an option.

“You’re so special to me.” Sucking at the droplets dangling from your chin, he nips up your jaw to swallow your earlobe. “So special and real, remind me so much of him. Who he used to be.”

Because that’s really what this all boils down to. You never willingly fell for Jeno’s charms the way everyone else does, he had to force this, and even then you didn’t give. You held on to the last bits of yourself that remained raw and real, you chose to love and accept who you are even when he diminished your worth. And that drove him crazy, tickled him in places he forgot existed, reignited those memories of who his best friend once was.

“I love you.” Jeno repeats, whispering just for you, not that anyone could even hear your screams here from room 0423. No one heard you the last time, no one helped, no one cares.

“I love you too.” The tears that pour down from your upper lip could come across as tears of joy. From an outsider's point of view this could look like the happiest moment of your life. Sharing confessions of love with your boyfriend, a handsome young man who can only be described as obsessed with you, but they aren’t happy tears; and as Jeno grins, squatting down to scoop you up, you have to swallow the rancid bile rising up your throat. Laid back down on the same desk he first had his way with you on, the same place he made you shut up and take it.

It’s crazy and out of body when Jeno’s palms drag down your sides, unbutton your top and reaches under your back to unhook your bra. He’s done it many times, it’s muscle memory at this point removing your clothes. Each small drag of his fingertips feel more chilling, crashing waves of shock throughout your system. Even as he strips you nude and licks down your inner thighs you lay there stoic, gaze unwavering from where he stands between your legs taking time to stroke over your figure.

“What’re you thinking about teddy?” He coos, kissing along the tender skin lining your inner thigh. “You look like a lot is going on inside that pretty head..”

What are you thinking? You’re not thinking much of anything. Unable to process a singular thought as you watch him bend in and kiss down the center of your sternum, trailing down to your navel. There’s nothing else you can say right now, nothing else you want to say as tears collect and spill over, running down to your ears.

“I missed you, I missed you so much.”

Jeno slowly cranes his head up to find your tear-filled gaze, he slowly reaches to cup your face, slowly smiles. It all seems too slow in comparison to the breakdown you’re having. Shaking down to the tips of your fingers and toes, body wracked with sobs as he sits you up and thumbs at your wet cheeks.

“Did you sweetheart? You missed me?”

“Y-yes!” You cry out watery, throwing your arms around his waist to pull him in close between your thighs. “You left me, you didn’t come. You always pick me up, you’re always there.”

Jeno falls silent, basking in your misery, savoring the wash of success that rains down on him. He’s broken you, dropped each piece of the puzzle only to reassemble it the way he wants. Broken, fixed, he did that, made you his and only his. His hands reach under your top, stroking up your spine and cooing in your ear. “I’m always there, I’ll always be there.”

That’s his promise, that he’ll always be there for you. He’ll always watch out for you, even if it’s not in the traditional romantic way you’d dreamt of as a child. It’s still special, you’re still special to him. And that’s enough, that’s really enough. Because your body calms down, and your nose finds comfort in his clean scent, eyes falling shut as you begin to relax under his touch.

He straightens out to kiss your cheeks, smooth your hair away from your face and take in the sadness streaked across your iris. It’s sadness with a hint of hope, a hint of something he’s never noticed before. You’re finally looking at him like he means something to you, and that makes Jeno’s chest swell. Heart beating rapidly as he leans in to catch your lips and suck on each until they blister under his bites.

He never kisses you softly when you’re alone, and maybe you like that. He’s passionate and rough, takes control of your mouth and tastes through every little crevice inside. He always tastes good and lingers on your tongue for hours throughout the day, but you like that. You need to feel him, smell him, taste him, belong to him. You need him to remind you of who you belong to when you start to stray and seek attention from anyone else.

“Would you hurt me?” You asked him before, and as your eyebrows crush together while kissing him you have to ask again. Because Haechan hurt you, he hurt you so bad. Jisung hurt you, he hurt you more than he’ll ever know. But Jeno.. he can’t hurt you. If he ever hurt you, there’s no way to predict what you’d do..

“Only if you hurt me.” He says in a serious tone, pulling back to look in your eyes. “You won’t, not anymore. You love me.”

“I—I do, I love you.”

It’s final, it’s your love story. Here in room 0423, the school you worked hard to get into, the scholarship you stayed up late day and night putting in extra credit for. All of that led to this moment in time with Jeno. Led you to your destiny, to the man that loves you.

“I know teddy, I’ve always known.” Taking your hands, he kisses down your fingers from the tips, spending extra time on your knuckles, turning them to drag his lips over your palms. “I have plans for us, our future.”

Plans. Future. Whatever that means.. you’re just happy to be here with him. To let him place your hands on his cock, laugh quietly at the way your fingers can barely wrap around him. “You’d never ask me to wear a condom.” He mumbles. He’s proud of that, says it in a boisterous tone.

“Never.” You agree solemnly.

That’s the best part of this victory. You were never a simple one time fuck, you were always meant to be more. He had to break you down beyond whatever voided space sex could fill, had to ensure your only need in life should ever be him.

It’s easier to lift your legs up and prop your feet on the desk, fully exposing your core. You still whimper and hide your face, still give off a facade of not wanting it.

He wants you to watch, see every second of him filling you up from inside out. To know that your body belongs to him, that he made you this way. He slaps your thighs to get you to hold yourself open, grabbing onto the base of his cock to stroke. Free hand finding your hair to ball up in his grip and keep your neck bent down. “Want my cock sweetheart?”

Jeno shakes you by the tuft of hair in his hold, nodding your head up and down. “I know the small little dicks you let fuck you weren’t shit.”

The way your hips stutter at that and wet arousal bubbles from your hole makes his cock twitch, inching closer to pick up a dollop of your slick, spreading it up to your clit with the tip of his length.

Thankful for the rubber sole of your shoes keeping your feet in place, you moan, biting it down still out of habit. His cock is nice, thick, covered in large projected veins. The fat pink tip dips in past your clenched hole, forcing a gushing wet sound to echo throughout the classroom. It should be humiliating but your body says otherwise, squeezing out more of your arousal with each teasing prod of his cock.

He plays with you like that for a while, to get you desperate and needy the way he likes. Cockhead probbing in and out enough for the mass of his bulbous tip to disappear inside of you.

“J-Jeno..”

That’s it, that’s what he likes to hear. That shattered little way you say his name. He bends in again to lick your cheek clean, dragging his lips to your ear. “Don’t take your eyes off my cock, if you do I won’t be nice.”

That’s how he talks to you, none of that lovey dovey shit when you don’t actually want it. He talks to you like you’re dumb, like you need to be told what to do, and sometimes you do. Times like these when you relinquish all control of yourself and let him turn you into a puppet, you need to be told to speak and listen, to watch and enjoy. He’s good at that, at making you feel small when you need to.

Weakly nodding, you scoot back to get a better grip on the backs of your upper thigh, hold yourself fully open for him. It’s commemorative being here like this again, on this desk, watching him begin to slowly push his fat girth in.

His hands travel down to hold your cunt open, making it stretch even more as you take and take. It always hurts a little bit trying to take all of his length at once, a good hurt, the type the tingles from the end of your spine to your brain. Watching it split you open this up close makes the pain even more surreal, drooling from your mouth like a starved animal. Pussy drooling around his cock the more he buries in, skin pulled taut around the thick shaft.

“Do you see?” Jeno says deep and raspy, pushing in more than half of his mass already. He fingers your clit for a minute, watching your hole convulse around him. “See how damn good you take it baby? You’re so good for me.”

“Unnghhh..” you wanna kick your legs out, throw yourself on him, wrap your arms around his neck. You have to wait, be patient and watch the rest of his size push in. “S-so big.”

“Was made for you.” He says clearly, through the fog clouding your ears. “Was made to fuck you teddy, that’s why I feel so good inside of you. We’re perfect for each other.”

Hearing that makes you brain melt, dropping your head to hang only for Jeno to wrap around your throat and lift your head up, burning you with his fierce gaze.

“When you kissed Haechan,” his hands constraint around your neck, jerking your head to look at him. “Was your body still screaming for me? Is that why you missed me?”

When he says he knows everything about you he really means it. Down to the infestation of emotions crushing your soul everyday. He knows you’ll never be able to recover from what he’s put you through, you’ll always be addicted, crawling like a fiend for the next hit.

“You were thinking of me, that’s it right? With your lips pressed tightly up against his skin.” He says in the most condescending tone, dragging the tips of his fingers up your jaw while keeping a tight clasp around your throat. “Was he even worth the fuck?”

In the end, he wasn’t, your eyes tell Jeno everything he needs to know. The ache and lust, pangs of guilt muddled between. “Did he fuck you like this?”

The rest of his length sinks in, thrusting in the fat base of his cock ruthlessly, nearly losing your balance if not for the chokehold he has you in. “He’d never fuck you like this, not the way you need. Nobody ever will.”

To drive it home he pulls out completely, making your pussy gape wide open and dribble a wad of wetness out that spills onto the classroom floor. You want to agree with him, tell him that he’s right, that he’s the only one that will ever fulfill your needs now, coughing and blubbering your whimpers as you try to inhale. He fucks into you like a rabid feral wolf, plunging his cock in and out all the way to hear your gurgled scream. It hurts it hurts it hurts, it hurts so fucking good.

The more animalistic he becomes, the more your skin drips with sweat, straining to keep yourself in this position on the desk. Legs more like jelly as your feet begin to slip and your ass slides forward. Jeno only pummels into you faster, determined to rip through your womb, leave a mark on your cervix.

He grunts wildly, releasing your neck abruptly to wrap around your waist and cup your ass right as you nearly fall off the desk. Each thrust inside feels more erratic than the last, diving his cock in deeper than you’ve ever felt anything reach. He’s relentless, growling through it all, exerting power and anger as he hoists you up by your ass and your legs wrap around his hips limply.

“Fuck my baby into you.” He grunts furiously, throwing your body up and down on his cock. Hand prints bloom on your throat, dropping your head back to let out a howling moan, crying out for only Jeno to save you now. For Jeno to do whatever he wants with you.

Your cries has him laying you back on the desk, needing to see for himself how broken and pathetic you look. Hauling your thighs to wrap around him securely to not lose an inch of warmth blanketing his length. He pounds in balls deep, the clap of his sack meeting your ass resounding throughout the room wet and loud, making your legs tremble with each barreling thrust.

“Yeah? Fuck you full of my kids.” He growls, reaching for your shoulders to really lose it on you. Jerking back up the desk by each violent smack of his hips crashing down on you. It’s the crazed look in his eyes that hurdles you back into the last time, catching the faded sound of your pleading, of your denial. Screaming out no no! Over and over again, only for him to ignore you, have his way and ruin you for anyone else.

“P-please—“ you cry, squeezing around his meaty girth as much as you’re able to, feet dangling bonelessly behind him. “P-please, make me y-yours.”

It could have been this way last time, wanting him to have you instead of begging him to stop. It could have been normal, but the two of you were never destined for that. You were meant to be his as much as he was made to be yours. The wet smack of his balls turns messy, the looming broad frame mounting you losing his composure as you look up at him and more tears trail down your cheeks.

“You always look prettiest when you cry.” Jeno grits out, falling down against you to slam home a few more jerky thrusts. Cock spurting out enough cum to surely knock you up, pushing it in deep with each digging swivel of his hips and he grabs onto your chin and laps your hot cheek clean of tears.

“Might have to keep getting you pregnant after this..” he mumbles, kissing the swell of your lips. “Fuck your ass in the mean time while you’re knocked up. I know how my teddy likes it..”

It’s hot and sticky between your bodies, nodding slowly at what he says, you suck on his thumb until both of you have calmed and caught your breath.

He’s not just inside of you, he’s seeping from your pores, infiltrating your nervous system, tearing you open from inside out. Each exhausted breath he takes lines up to yours, blinking simultaneously, twitching through the aftershocks of your orgasm at the same time. He’s yours, and you are his. One soul, one heart, one love combining you.

“I love you.” He pants, reaching between your sweaty bodies to smooth his palm over your extended stomach, bulging out with his cock lodged in so deep. “I love us.”

Jeno did more than ruin your life. He destroyed everything you’ve worked hard for. Shattering your hopes and dreams, demolishing any type of independence you strived to achieve, he stripped all those dreams away.

He’s your new dream.

“I love you too.”

He hums, shifting to bracket your head with his biceps, littering gentle kisses across your wet tear-stained cheeks. “I know teddy, I know.”

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･･ ⋆ ･

There are many ways you envisioned the future. Flying cars, trains that can get you from one side of a state to another at the speed of light, maybe even actual superheroes.

You can even recall sitting side by side with Haechan reading Uzumaki after the fight you had that brought you into each other’s lives in the first place. If you hadn’t wanted to read that damn manga so bad, if you had just shown up at the comic book store any other day. He had sat there with you, thigh pressed to yours, bangs too long and shabby, flicking up with each blink.

You thought it was nice, to like a boy, to have a crush. It was nice to go home and giggle while brushing your teeth, sent off to dream after your mom tucked you in. Haechan had appeared, the Haechan he’d grow up to be someday. The Haechan you wanted him to be someday, but the thing about dreams is they’re silly.

“I don’t believe in dreams.” Jeno says behind you, zipping up the back of your dress. “There’s more power in manifestation.”

But dreams are manifestations if you think about it, and while you dreamt of the future with Haechan, you remember it had been just like Uzumaki.

Spirals had begun to sprout up in the small town around you, driving everyone insane. Infecting each inch of surface and land, and you, you reached for Haechan as he escaped the swarm of spirals. You screamed, shouted, pleaded for him to grab a hold of your hands and save you.

And then you woke up, sitting up in your childhood bed feeling a sense of dread.

“I manifested you.” Jeno kisses your nape, fixing your hair into place. “My Teddy.”

No. He didn’t. That’s what you want to say, to let him know. He didn’t manifest you, you let him in years ago when Haechan stood there in your dream. Watched you get swallowed up by the spirals, the exact same way he watched Jeno swallow you whole. He did nothing then, he did nothing now, exactly like your dream.

It’s been a week now since you last went to class. A week now since you moved out of your studio apartment, Jeno reminding you that ‘That shithole is no place for my soon-to-be wife to live.’ as he drove you to a new apartment. Furnished, never lived in, a great view of the city, and two bedrooms.

‘Until I’ve saved up enough for a house, this will be perfect for our little family.’

He kisses your forehead and held you close, admiring the scenery outside of your bedroom window. ‘You’ll never have to worry about anything again.’

Don’t ask questions, don’t worry, just trust him.

Because he knows you’d never handle the truth without a fight. The anonymous threats he holds over Haechan’s father’s head, the thousands of dollars he’s set aside just to get you away from your childhood friend. It’s all been a part of his plan, and thankfully it worked. Of course it did, everything works out for Jeno.

“We won’t stay out too late.” Jeno smiles, reaching over to the passenger seat to tweak your chin. “You look so fucking cute in that costume.”

“I feel fat.” You mumble, poking at your exposed stomach.

“Don’t start.” He tuts, slapping your hand away. “You look like my fluffy cute teddy.”

You really do. Wearing fluffy round ears on your head, fuzzy tan brown bralette and matching shorts with a puffed tail attached. Jeno held up the costume with a huge smile, tossing it your way only a few hours ago and letting you know to get ready for a Halloween party tonight.

His costume seemed much more simple, nothing more than a Michael Meyers face mask and his usual attire. Tight black tee, fitted dark wash jeans, combat boots, studded leather belt.

You look really good too Jeno.

That’s what you wanted to say, especially after the last few weeks of falling asleep in the same bed together. You really really really wanted to say it, to tell him he looks hot, sexy, devastatingly attractive.

You say nothing though, following along with his arm around your shoulder through a throng of partygoers dancing around in their fun costumes. Fairies, iconic characters, Barbies, Bratz Dollz, cops and robbers. It’s fun really, your first Halloween party, your first Halloween party with your boyfriend.

“Water?” He hands you a cup of clear liquid, ignoring the bottles of alcohol lined up atop the kitchen counter of whoevers house this is.

“Thanks.”

He nods, directing you to a long winding staircase leading you up to an enormous hallway entrance. Rich people of course, luxurious decor, expensive paintings, every inch of this place spotless surely thanks to a 24 hour live-in maid service.

“There’s still one last thing I need to fix for you.”

Jeno walks backward, facing you with that blank faced mask on, arms prominent and flexed in the confines of his tight shirt. “That’s why we’re here Teddy.”

What could that even mean? One last thing to fix for you. Nothing can be fixed anymore.

“Come here baby.” It’s dark up here, darker in the room he tugs you inside of, immediately pinning your body to the wall, digging his fingers into your waist. “How am I supposed to keep my hands off of you?” He grunts, turning you around to press your breasts to the wall, stroking your hair aside to kiss your nape and toy with the leather choker there.

He says that offhandedly sometimes while you’re lazing around in bed after waking up. It’s so hard to keep his hands off of you, he has no idea how he’ll manage once you give birth.

That’s why you’re here, surprised he even bothered to find a room to hide you away in. Among the many things Jeno likes, he loves to show you off, love for everyone to know you are his.

He doesn’t waste time to strip your panties off, dropping them to your ankles to squeeze your ass with his heavy thick palms. Holding you apart to watch your wrinkled rim flinch and tighten up. “Not tonight sweetheart. Gotta fuck your pretty pussy, you know that. Have to make sure your womb stays full.”

He still runs a thumb across your rim, just to watch your hips jut back, so needy.

“Stay still okay?” Jeno says sweetly, pointing to the door. “And don’t look away.”

He steps back for a minute, letting the cool air circulating around the room roll shivers up your back, chewing on your lip in anticipation.

You think you hear a click, something else familiar that you can’t exactly put your finger on before the warmth of his body returns and presses against you.

“Now where were we? My poor teddy, already making a mess.” He whispers against the shell of your ear, hand slipping between your thighs to rub the wetness around that's smeared down. “Should I fuck you now? Make my teddy feel real good?”

“Y-yes..” you whine, keeping your gaze locked on the door like he commanded. It’s not good to disobey Jeno, and you don’t intend to.

“Beg for it better than that..” the weight of his size smacks against your ass, hot and heavy. Letting you know he’s fully hard and ready to fuck. “Come on.”

“Please Jeno.. wanna feel f-full..” you do your best to sound sweet, docile and small. Anything to not spend another minute without him inside of you.

“Is that all I am to you? A big cock to get yourself off on? Huh?” He seeps between your thighs, gripping onto your hips firmly. Rocking his hips forward, the clap of his skin hitting the perk of your ass resounds. Your skin sticky from body shimmer and lotion, moistening up as he ruts between your thighs.

“N-no.. love you, love your cock too.” You whimper, having to bite down on your hand to not scream when he slaps your hip and lets out a deep pleased grunt.

“That’s what I like to hear sweetheart.” Without bothering to warn you, he pushes in, pausing a little more than halfway only to savor the wet trickle of arousal drenching his length. “Fuck, that’s how much you love my cock? Dripping this fucking much already.”

“Yesyesyes!” You nod into your hand, bumping your head against the wall. Biting down harder on your fingers as impending screams rise up your throat. Muffling the one that breaks free when he pushes into the hilt.

Jeno’s cock always feels like the first time everytime, so big and fucking thick. Penetrating deep in ways that don’t even seem humanly possible. He always makes you cum, makes you want to go again even when your body needs a break.

“L-love h-how full you m-make me!” You blabber, reaching to grab onto the wall as he builds up speed and starts to thrust faster. Palms slide up your waist to fuck you the way he wants, pulling out to the tip each time and diving the entirety of his length right back in to really make you feel and take every inch.

“You love it?! You love me?” He growls, sliding one hand lower to find your clit before you’re able to respond. He knows you’ll choke on your next words, making your pussy gush out more around him as he rams up and fucks you vigorously. “Answer me!”

“Yes yes! I love you!” You wail, bounced up and down fiercely. The angle placing the tip of his cock right under your navel. “Ah! Ah f-fuck!”

“Yeah, keep fucking saying that sweetheart.” He roars, biting at your shoulder, swiping your clit side to side. Thin fingers play you like a fiddle, stroking and pinching your clit until you’re clenching around him. Toes pointed off the ground, neck tossed back in ecstasy.

Jeno reaches so deep, he fills you up so so good, he stretches you open in a way you’ve become addicted to. Clawing at the wall on the brink of your orgasm, chanting repetitive begging between your moans. He eats it all up, groans against your skin, shoving his mask off as the door opens.

“That’s it Teddy,” fisting your hair, he shoves your cheek against the wall, maneuvering your face toward the stream of light that enters. “Milking my cock so fucking good.”

Haechan’s eyes meet yours, wide and bewildered, quickly scanning from Jeno back to you. “Cum for me, let him see how you really take it baby. Show that bitch who you fucking love.”

It hurts. The pleasure between your thighs taking over your lower half as your heart pinches and aches, the two powerful emotions crashing head to head. And Jeno thrusts in hard, swiping his fingers rapidly along the sides of your clit until you’re crying out, slapping the wall with a shout.

“That’s my girl, that’s my fucking girl.” He rasps behind you, cupping your face to bite down on your jaw. Through your dazed euphoria you think that’s your broken voice spewing out a song of IloveyouIloveyouIloveyou, eyes rolled back as the cool chill washes away from your skin with an overwhelming wave of heat.

Jeno sport’s the biggest and most wicked smile, watching Haechan’s face fall. The last thing his old best friend could snatch away from his life, successfully crushing the relationship you ever had with him. He watches his old friend back away disgusted, and he cums, filling you with a hot stream of white, exclaiming how much he loves you.

“Love you so much baby,” he’s never sounded so honest, so enthralled and at ease. Drawing your waist back with his ripped arms, wrapping a safe hold around you to keep your limbless body against his. “Love you enough to give you my baby.”

His palms glide down, ending in their new favorite spot right beneath your navel. Kissing up your neck softly, murmuring about the future. “You’ll never be able to get rid of me now Teddy. We’re one now, you and I.”

There’s a hint of threat laced in his words, gently petting the area where he’s imagined a small bump will begin to show soon.

They day you met Haechan and lost him broke your heart. The day you met Jeno turned your life upside down, discovered the shattered pieces and put them back together again, finally showing you what you’ve always secretly wished for.

“I love you Jeno.”

“I know.”

#jeno smut #lee jeno smut #nct dream smut #nct smut #kpop smut #haechan smut #lee haechan smut #park jisung smut #jisung smut #nct dream fanfiction #neopuppy fics #nct fanfiction #kpop fanfiction #haechan fanfic #jisung fanfic #nct dream x reader #nct x reader

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fairy-hub · 6 months

Text

𝐚 𝐝𝐚𝐝! 𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐨𝐮𝐬

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: heavy fluff, light angst, reader is giving birth, kento is worried about being a dad and supportive husband, you easily reassure him, twin baby girls, praise, kento is in awe of you as he should be, you're amazing, you breast feed the baby and kento bottle feeds the other baby

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧: I love your works! Could you write kento fluff, him stressing out about becoming a dad for the first time and reader is just really chill about it all!! Please and thank you🙏🙏

Oreo: I’m sick with my period at the same damn time eating chicken noodle soup, my hubby has been spoiling me so much. Brought me some Christmas themed flowers, the cutest wreath that has the house smelling like pine. Then there was running me a warm bath, making my soup this man is the best. Giving that nanami energy, cause you know he would take such good care of you. I haven’t had to lift a finger, and nanami wouldn’t let you lift one either.

Your painful contractions, rushing to the hospital, and the epidural to ensure a painless birth. Tightly squeezing his hand, pushing out the first baby girl. It’s a blur that doesn't slow down till he hears the first beautiful cry.

Letting go of your hand long enough to cut the umbilical cord. Grasping your hand between his own, kissing the back. “You’re doing wonderful love, she’s healthy and adorable.” Kissing your cheek, weakly you smile momentarily. Gritting your jaw focusing on pushing out your second baby girl. You're sweaty and beautiful.

The second baby girl is louder, her cries quieting her minutes older sister. This time the nurse brings her close to you, offering you the back the handle. Kento gently guides your hand helping you cut the cord.

"After we clean them both of you can hold one of your beautiful little joys. So chonky, healthy with a powerful set of lungs already.” The doctor gently cleans and checks you over.

One of the nurses brings his eldest baby to him. “Congratulations on such healthy wonderful baby girls.” Gently cradling his eldest babygirl in his hands, swaddled in a soft blanket. Kento supports her hand and head with one hand. She’s so small yet chunky at the same time. Swaddled in a yellow blanket.

Her beautiful chunky face scrunched up in confusion that melts away at the sight of his face. More tears trickle down his face at the soft adoring warm love in his baby girl’s eyes. Lifting her small hand, he leads down helping her touch his cheek.

Kento’s eyes widen tears trickling down his face, dripping onto the girl he names “ He’s a dad to two amazing baby girls who he wants to give the world to along side his beautiful wife.

What if he fails to be a good father?

Grinning Docter Annie announces, “Wonderful there is no hemorrhaging, you’re bleeding normally. We will keep you overnight for observation and discharge you in the morning. When you need to go to the restroom press the call button for a nurse. You will need to eat soon and get plenty of rest.”

Two nurses on either side carefully lift you for the doctor to put a diaper on you. Laying you back down, raising the upper half of the bed for you to comfortably sit up.

You're the nurse lift your baby girl out of the bath, drying her off. “Can I try to calm her down?” Kento looks up at you in pure awe. You have always been an amazing woman. He’s lucky for you to be the mother of his children.

What if he fails to be a supportive husband?

The nurse softly smiles, “You should be able to skin-to-skin and settle her, maybe help her latch.” Lying your baby on your chest. Cradling her, resting her head on your chest. Her loud cries softening to whines.

Admiring your little girl with tired eyes and a soft smile. It's a different type of beautiful to see you cradling the delicate adorable life in your hands. It's wonderful sight like the one of other baby girl in his hands.

Warm, healthy, and finally here after nine months. Here to thrive, grow, and develop interests. Kento wants to be there for them, with you by his side, every step of the way.

Her whines quiet down when you help her latch. Letting her get mouthfuls of milk. Softly breathing, “Of course, our lil Hana is hungry after all that hard work.” Kento didn't think he could fall more in love with you until this moment.

"She will need to latch and get skin with mom soon but for now getting fed by dad and doing some bonding is good too." A nurse hands Kento a bottle of formula. "We will get the overnight room and some food ready for the mom ready." Remembering the various videos and books he nudges Himari's lips with the bottle.

It takes a moment for her to latch, once she does, she's taking large mouthfuls. Failing her hand in her attempt to grab Kento's. A feat she takes moments to accomplish. Her small warm hand on the back of his, the sleepy loving looking in her eyes. "Hana and Himari are perfect, thank you my love for working so hard bringing them into this world."

The nurse and doctor trickle out of the room, taking some of the equipment with them. Leaving Kento and You along with your newborns.

"My love I know that look in your eyes and tension in your jaw. We got each other, and I couldn't have a better man by my side to raise our babies and grow old with. You're going to be everything these girls need in a father and more, trust me darling." The confidence in your beautiful face, soothing voice and tired eyes easing the weight on his shoulders.

He takes a deep breath, shoving his worries aside. Reaffirming your comforting words, "We have each other, there isn't anything we can't do to give these girls a wonderful life, don't worry about me love relax and rest." Standing up, carefully leaning down making sure not to disturb Himari drinking, kiss you gently. "I'm so grateful to get the privilege to be your husband and father to these adorable girls."

Oreo creampie’s m.list

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muntitled · 6 months

Note

omg hi pookie bear , hru ?

i’m going feral and have a request <\3 hmm what if anton hasn’t seen his gf in a few months because she stays in the states . they usually make sure to call and check in with each other every night but maybe for the last few days she hasn’t been responding too much but only because she’s flying to go surprise him ! so basically a bit of angst then fluff at the end loll (and a little smut if ur up to it 🤓👆🏾) .

also, can i be 🎀 anon ?!

Of course, my darling! Thank you for the lovely request, I literally had so much fun writing this omg.

𝐈𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐅𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐡 | 𝐀𝐧𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐋𝐞𝐞

- Pairings: Anton Lee x Fem!Reader

- Warnings: Language, Established Relationship, Codependency, Angst, Jealousy, Relationship Paranoia, Possessiveness, Manipulation, Smut (+18, Minors DNI), Spitting, Size Kink, Praise Kink, Dry Humping, Unprotected Sex, Needy Sex

He wouldn't call himself obsessive.

That's not the correct word. Infatuation would probably best explain the tempest of emotions rattling through his brain when his phone rings, signaling a video call from you.

Sungchan's chest rises and falls with the extremities of their evening workout. He barely keeps himself toppling over when he and the rest of the group watch Anton lumber to his bag in large, quick steps

"Yo?" Sohee asks, anatomically defeated as he races to catch his breath.

"Carry on, without me," Anton throws over his hunched shoulder. He is cupping his phone with both hands when he enters one of the many bathrooms peppered throughout the gym, letting his feet guide him almost robotically into a stall while his finger swipes to answer the video call. At the sight of your relaxed smile, Anton exhales lightly.

He knew it's particularly bad to form dependant relationships, but he couldn't exactly help himself, can he? Your voice is just so light when you say, "Hi," and his is equally shy as he replies with his quiet "Hi yourself."

Anton can not help himself from being so incredibly infatuated. He's diving headfirst into codependency, but hey, at least he is aware.

At least he is aware that he would do quite literally anything for the girl in trapped in his phone, and you would do the same for him, therefore it is of no surprise at all when he airly says, "You're so pretty,"

His voice is barely above a whisper and his eyes are bright as he buries the lower half of his face in the comforting fleece of his black sweater. "Really pretty,"

An airy sort of chuckle escapes the confines of your lips, and Anton's pulse begins to race as he takes note of your tongue swiping over your bottom lip. "Anton, did you hear anything I just said?" If it weren't for the slight hesitation that pollutes the sound of your beautiful voice, Anton would've gladly kept staring at your lips. But his heart sinks imperceptibly as he gazes back at you apprehensively.

"Uh- no," he says, "I was too busy thinking about how excited I am for you to get here." The panic only begins to set when your smile wavers.

"Oh... about that-"

"No," he whispers, "Please don't do that-"

"My boss hasn't exactly cleared me for a vacation day-"

Anton is livid, but his voice remains stable. "We have spoken about this for 2 months!"

"You know how my boss can be," you reply, "He hasn't given me off, Anton. I have no one to cover my shift, I'm sorry!" You exclaim, as the dreaded guilt begins to trickle into your voice. Anton's eyes narrow, and he brings his phone closer. Temporarily ignoring his whirlwind of negative emotions, Anton instead skeptically asks, "Where are you?" That doesn't look like your bathroom."

Anton's heart only sinks lower into the pit of his stomach when he notices a quick hint of alarm flash through your eyes before you're pulling the camera back into a more intimate aspect ratio as you prattle on. "Yeah, I just decided to head to the movies to make myself feel better. Maybe you should do the same," your voice is tight and layered with anxiety as if you were... lying to him.

Anton cannot imagine why you would want to do that, least of all to him. He knew when you lied because you both did it together. On myriad occasions.

He made you call up your part-time job on multiple occasions, rubbing smoothe, encouraging circles on your belly while you feigned an illness just to spend more time with him.

In high school, you had both lied to each of your parents about 'studying together' when in actual fact, those 4 had been excuses to make out messily in your sheets. Exploring confusing emotions until a simmering heat flowed through the both of you while Anton's large hands began to pet over new, various spots on your body.

He had never been on the receiving end of your dishonesty, not even since he left the country. But here you are, evading eye contact, stuttering over your words and lying...

to him.

"How's the team workout been, big boy?" He notices with grave finality how quick you are to not only change the subject, but to weaponize a nickname that you knew would have him melting for you.

Is this what you have both become?

Was he seriously being manipulated?

Was he...

Perhaps...

Being cheated on?

The thought sent a wave of nausea threatening to spill out of his badly pursed lips, and perhaps you realize, from years of studying Anton's non verbal expressions, that he was thinking of something very grave and very bad.

"Hey, didn't you say you only had five minutes?" Your voice is like the tingling goosebumps left in the wake of your nails raking across his skin and he shivers slightly.

"Yeah," his voice, although characteristically quiet, is guarded and you frown, perhaps noticing that you have a lot of making up to do.

Anton suddenly, quite literally out of the blue, asks, "Remember when you said you went bra shopping the other day?

"Yeah?" You ask, completely oblivious to the darkened thoughts polluting your boyfriend's mind. You watch his eyes tare into yours as he monotonously asks.

"Are you wearing any of the new ones right now?"

"Anton, aren't you in the middle of-"

He immediately cuts in, voice impatient and snide, "They can carry on without me, it's fine."

It was petulant, but Anton needed to know you still belonged to him. He needed to know that high school wasn't some sick fever dream you could just swiftly move past as if it meant nothing. He needed to know that.

"Can I see?"

You curtly comply, and you look around before pushing yourself further into the stall. You both found yourselves on opposite end of a cellular line, both silent with the weight of your attraction to one another, keeping your eyes glued to the screen.

"Please?" He asks, in an airy voice, "for me?"

Anton knew from the strike of guilt in his chest that it was not a morally correct thing to do, but what else was there?

You would be away from him, indefinitely. He would have to spend another evening, another week, another month without your body to hold onto. Not to mention, the jealousy at this new hypothetical boyfriend still hung heavily on his shoulders.

Besides, Anton's guilt completely disappeared when you begrudgingly pulled the string of your halter neck down until the material was falling flmisily down your torso, exposing your chest to him. Anton released a wobbly breath while his hand almost immediately went to cover the bulge, forming in his oversized pants. "Oh god," he whispered.

It was so remarkably mesmerising watching your boyfriend slips so easily into desire. You knew he was angry and that made this part of the mission remarkably uncomfortable, but instead, you choose to focus on Anton's lumbering breathing through the screen of your phone. His large eyes hooded and locked onto your breasts, still very much covered by your white lace bra.

Although he cannot see anything besides cleavage, Anton reckons he could cum just from this. That's how bad he needs you, that's how bad he yearns for your soft, grounding presence to be near him.

But your phone chimes. And just as Anton's jaw locks, you exclaim, "Babe, I have to go-"

"What?" The frown on his face is astounding, but you're already propping your phone up to pull up the strings of your dress.

His protests fall on deaf ears.

You could not very well tell him that you have already touched down in Korea. You couldn't tell him the unrecognizable bathroom stall was a sterile cubicle in the international airport. You couldn't tell him that you were closer than he thought.

"My movie is gonna start soon,"

His shoulders visibly deflate and your heart pounds faster in your chest.

"Skip it,"

"I'll call later okay?"

"Skip the movie."

"I love you,"

When you abruptly ended the call, Anton stared at his screen until the dimness turned to black, with only one question permeating through his restless mind.

'Do you?'

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

"You say you hear me," Sohee's voice reaches the rafters as the group of boys leave the gym. "You hear me, but do you feel me?"

"Gross," Anton mumbles, leaving Sohee behind.

"It's a simple question," The older boy continues, "at what point does water become soup?"

"When any reasonable amount of seasoning is added," pipes up Shotaro, adjusting the straps of his work out bag along his shoulder.

"Don't encourage him," Eunseok grumbles as they all walk out into the cool night air.

Anton's gaze is still lowered to the floor, but his breath stutters momentarily at the sudden rush of the open air.

"So salt water can be considered soup?" Sohee scoffs, "That's what you're telling me right now?" The group groans in unison, all beginning to walk like a hive mind to the nearest restaurant. All except Anton, who is quieter than usual, whose only plans for the evening consist of wallowing in self-pity.

"Hey, um, I'm just gonna go home," he says, causing the group of boys to stop in their tracks. Anton evade their curious, worried gazes.

"Not when you look like you're about kill yourself-" Shotaro says, attempting to step closer to Anton, but only frowning when the youngest takes a step back.

"That's okay," he attempts to reassure his friends, "There's a beat thats been..." Anton does vague hand gestures to the side of his head, "I wanna go work,"

He was already walking away, head bowed, and headphones pushed over his head, walking into the night before his friends could even get a word in...

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

He could not describe his feelings as Jealousy. That somehow felt like to tame a word to describe the flurry of emotions hanging so heavily on Anton's face as he pushes the password into the door's keypad, before kicking his shoes off at the door.

Anger was certainly a part of it. The large monolith of emotions threating to burst right through him. He felt unpleasantly overstimulated, even in the silence of the apartment. He felt like anything and everything was threatening to have him burst at the seams, his emotions running along the rim of his usually calm and collected state of mind, ready to spill over and make a dreaded mess everywhere.

Anton's only plans for the night had been to lock himself in his dorm room, perhaps crying, perhaps screaming, perhaps knocking himself out for a couple hours with his prescription sleeping pills. Anything to make this horrific strain on his heart disappeared.

The baggy clothes he is accustomed to wearing somehow appear bigger and sloppier as he lumbers his way deeper into the apartment, heart sinking the more steps he takes.

"Oh look,"

Cold, piercing phantom pain zings through his heart, kickstarting every dormant sleepy cell in his body.

"A dinosaur,"

Anton thinks that he couldn't even move if he wanted to. His socks are glued to the threshold, watching you, or perhaps an apparition of you, laying lazily on his bed.

His bed.

“Fuck,” he whispers to himself, and you watch with furrowed brows as Anton brings his two hands up to his face. You immediately push yourself off the bed when he begins to slap lightly at his cheeks, whispering incoherently about asylums and potentially getting a contact high.

His cheeks are already bright red when you stumble your way in front of him.

“Woah, Big boy,” your hands are on his wrist, effectively stopping Anton from reddening the skin any further.

He can feel you. He can feel the softness of your palms struggling to enclose around his large wrists.

“This is real,” he whispers, watching with wide, doe eyes as a smirk curls at the end of your lips. Before you can reply in whatever witty or snarky remark you had cooked up, Anton was already bending his head until his lips were crashing down to yours.

He very surprisingly, very uncharacteristically pours his strength into the kiss until you were stumbling back rather clumsily into his room.

Anton crumbles into a flurry moans and groans as he slips his tongue inside your mouth, melting into a whimpering puddle when your tongue brushes against his. “B-But when?” he breathes out before reattaching his lips to yours, letting his hands roam unabashedly over every part of your body it can find.

The infuriating need to breathe causes him to pull apart from you once again, but he never strays too far. Anton’s fingers dig into your sides until he's pulling your dress over your head. He wishes to capture every single inch of your exposed body to memory. The way you look up at him with a light, relieved smile curling at the sides of your puffy, red lips.

You're so much shorter than him, and it sends his brain into a mindless, state of lust. He loves how big he feels when you two are together, in the flesh with no digital box separating the two of you.

“H-How?” He breathes out, noting immediate that you are in the same white lace bra from your earlier phone call.

There is a cheeky smile on your face when you pull his oversized shirt over his head, all while he stares you down as if you hung the moon.

“I always keep my promises, Ant,”

His body betrays him with a rough shiver and he groans as you push him onto his bed, discarding his shirt behind you. As you prowl your way on top of him, Ant throws his head back into the sheets, nearly hyperventilating at the sight of you straddling his hips. You lift your torso, immediately discarding your bra, and Anton’s hand flies to cup your breasts. This, he immediately decides, is what heaven looks like.

“Fuck, you're so fucking pretty, you know that?” Anton rarely ever swore, so to hear the crass words coated in his airy, breathless voice is enough to have you moaning into the air, arching your back as you push his face into your chest while you press your core down onto his irresistible bulge.

“Oh God, Anton.”

“Missed you so much,’ he whines, before enclosing his mouth around your nipple, almost instinctively pushing his hips up to meet your desperate grinding. You were quite literally humping like maddened adolescents brimming with too many hormones to know what to do with.

When Anton feels his cock twitching in his pants, he immediately pulls away.

“Fuck,” he breathes out, “I need to be inside of you,” he admits gravely, already getting up to switch places until you were underneath his large and lumbering frame, “I don't think I'll last long,” Another grave admittance. He pushes his hand into his sweatpants, and you watch, mesmerized as he reveals his large, aching cock absolutely leaking precum.

“I'm definitely not gonna last long,” you reassure before eagerly opening your restless legs, “We're gonna cum together, yeah?” Anton squeezes his eyes shut before squeezing the base of his twitching dick. All while you slip your own underwear down.

“Yeah,” he agreed before positioning his cock at your weeping enterance.

You both watch mesmerized as his cock begins to stretch the tight walls of your soaked cunt. The stretch, immediately causing a whimper to slip out of your mouth as you throw your head back into the pillows. You're clenching around him, while Anton coaxes himself into you with shallow thrusts. The rutting being just enough to spill a wave of pleasure over the both of you. He watches you moan with wide, pained eyes.

“I know, baby-” He whisper, “You're doing so good for me, you know that?”

“Fuck, you're so big,” is all you're able to say, effectively causing his hips to stutter.

“F-Fuck I'm not gonna last long-”

Instead of repeating your response, you bring your hips up to meet Anton's thrusts effectively, taking him deeper and deeper until he was fucking you with little to no restraint.

“Oh God,” you whisper, as Anton clumsily brings a hand up to squeeze and pinch at your nipples. Not even a minute later and you're both sitting in the crest of your respective orgasms, looking deep into each other's eyes as if you were communicating that fact. Anton nods, completely dazed.

“Close,” he whimpers, “I'm so fucking close,”

Anton bends his head, spitting directly onto your clit. The sight has your hips stuttering, as the first signs of your orgasm warms your lower abdomen.

“F-Fuck, Ant- I'm-”

The moment his hand travels to rub dizzying wet circles on your clit, you crash into your orgasm.

“Oh fuck- oh fuck-” He fights to keep his eyes open but your squeezing him so hard and Anton can't help but cum directly inside of you. Both your lips are hanging open as your boyfriend attempts to fuck every last drop of his seed into you. You're both releasing months worth of frustration.

The frustration of not being near one another. Of relying on a device to keep your relationship afloat. It all comes crashing down until Anton's is thoughtlessly collapsing on top of you - the weight of a giant landing your front, with his hand playing lazily, wiyh your breasts as you both fight to catch your breathe.

Despite the obvious discomfort, the very last thing you think of doing is pushing him away. Instead, you cradle him closer, raking your fingers into his hair while his eyes flutter shut.

All is quiet, and you vaguely believe Anton may have fallen asleep, but his voice is wide awake as he says, “I thought you were cheating on me.”

You remain quiet, hoping the soft petting on his wild curls was reply enough.

“I'm never letting you go back, okay?”

Your eyes are heavy as you continue to smooothe down his hair, and you whisper, “Okay”.

♡♡♡

#anton lee x reader #riize x reader #riize smut #anton x reader #anton smut #anton riize #lee anton #lee anton x reader #lee anton smut #anton lee smut #riize fluff #riize hard hours #riize #riize x imagine #riize imagines #anton fluff #anton #riize headcanons

2K notes · View notes

simpxxstan · 2 months

Text

Nobody Else (part 1)

pairing: chaebol!wonwoo x chaebol!fem.reader

genre: enemies with benefits to lovers, smut (minors do not interact please), mild angst

summary: the girl who was proud about making her own destiny, the boy she swore to never interact with. sometimes it takes a lifetime to know someone, even yourself. because who would've seen any of this coming?

chapter word count: 13k

warnings: honestly, way too much smut. cockwarming, oral sex (m. receiving, f. receiving), usage of sex toys, orgasm denial, gagging, overstimulation, dom-sub dynamics, public sex (i don't even know if it's feasible, please suspend your beliefs about reality while reading aah), unprotected sex (please do not do this irl), breast play, spanking, use of spit during sex, usage of petnames (darling, babe, sweetheart for female), usage of word slut (for female), usage of sir and daddy (for male), sir kink, daddy kink, office sex, use of profanities, lots of bickering. let me know if i missed something out!

a/n: and we're back. (or are we?) honestly, i write when i get the time. and i don't know when i'll get my schedule to clear up again </3 hopefully within a few months my life will be back on track.

hope you enjoy this!!! posting this in two parts because it's way too long otherwise. do leave your thoughts, i swear reading them makes me so happy. open to hearing criticism too so pls my inbox is right there for you to rant. have a nice day!

You’ve known Jeon Wonwoo since the age of eleven, but you’d never thought you’d end up like this. Being in the same social circles as you and your family, the young Jeon heir had never really been your friend. However, that did not mean you didn’t meet him. In fact, you met him quite often. He went to the same school as you, he was always there at the parties you went to, and everyone around you kept talking about him. No matter what the season or the age, everyone was infatuated with Jeon Wonwoo.

Objectively speaking, no.

Subjectively speaking, not at all.

You could never understand why one would find a man with no beauties to his personality, nothing to his merit except a pair of thick-rimmed glasses and those never-changing black clothes, attractive. Apart from that, he never exchanged a friendly conversation with you. Never a moment of warmth. And you reciprocated the feeling absolutely. You had no desire to seek his favour. He simply never left the periphery of your life, and it annoyed you. But not enough to bother you. You’d grown used to the sight of the tall boy, who never spoke to anyone except his tight-knit group of absolute losers. And he should have remained in your periphery, never in your focus. You wanted nothing to do with the cold, arrogant nerd.

So naturally, you’d never, in your wildest imaginations, thought that you’d be here, sucking his dick off under his desk while he engaged himself in a meeting on his desktop. You had been in that position for hours, your mouth lolling over the wetness surrounding his penis, both from your saliva and the slow trickle of his pre-cum. While he has switched from meeting to meeting, both with corporates in Korea and internationally, his suit impeccable and the glasses sitting neatly on his nose, you’d cockwarmed him. That would’ve still been fine, had you not enjoyed it so thoroughly that it had become a routine for you both over the months.

After a solid two hours (and a few more minutes), he’d allowed himself to push back the chair a bit, pull his pants down further, spread his legs wide enough to meet the annoying temptation that had been bugging him for so long, and thread his hands into your hair, indicating you to step out of the haze you’d fallen into and get on with the job. And oh boy, you’d obeyed. At this point, it was a reflex for you. Feeling the way his hands caved your jaws and neck, you leaned into his touch, all while keeping your eyes on the little twitches he made on his face. Perhaps it was his need to be dominant, or perhaps it was just his arrogance, but he never slipped during sex. Even when you were giving him the most mind-blowing blowjob, like right now, using techniques you’d picked up over time, slipping your tongue under his cock to feel his veins throb around your tongue, gently nipping the foreskin to make the red tip burn harder, and taking him into your throat completely without a moment of a gag reflex. He’d never show you how much he liked it, never praised you, never revealed that he wanted it as much as you did.

It was all a part of the act, you knew that.

It was designed to make you more eager to perform well, more eager to earn his praise, more eager to put your all into this.

Jeon Wonwoo, with his signature cold stares and the arrogant tilt of his smirk, would break you every time, and you’d come back for it, again and again, addicted mindlessly, like a drug.

Eventually, his cum would flow down your throat, and you’d feel his body relax against yours, as he let you lay your head on his thighs for a few moments to recuperate.

But never enough.

“Up, sweetheart. I thought you had a party to attend.”

He helps you stand up, smirking at the pool of your cum on the floor where you’d been sitting, with the bullet vibrator parked deep into your pussy, which had given you endless orgasms and sent you into heaven, all while you’d felt the weight of Wonwoo’s warmth on your tongue.

His words bring you back to reality, as you limp towards the washroom to clean yourself, slowly breaking your daze. “I do. When are you going to change?”

“I don’t want to. I’ll look good even if I don’t doll up.” With a snicker he goes back to his desktop, and you roll your eyes at the implication of his words.

“I still don’t understand why you’d ask them to deliver the dress here.”

“It is pretty late. Imagine if I’d have to go back home, change, and then leave for the venue. Too much hassle. I would have to leave an hour back. Your place is much closer to the venue.”

“And so you chose to make my bedroom your vanity room?

From Wonwoo’s vantage point in the study, he has a direct view into the master bedroom, where you’re settling yourself into a fresh pair of lingerie and the jumpsuit, which had been designed exclusively for you, for this occasion. The jumpsuit was perfect, made to look professional and yet classy, just as the event demanded, and in midnight blue, your favourite shade. You smiled while wearing it, your secretary had truly learnt your style well and ordered the perfect outfit for you.

“I’ll be out in ten.” You can feel his eyes on your figure, even from the distance.

You’re too engrossed in fixing the zip on your back to notice Wonwoo leaning against the doorframe, his eyes fixated on you.

“Do you need help?”

You give him a look. There’s that semi-permanent smirk lingering on his face, he knows he’s pushing your buttons. Outside of sex, you would never ask for help. In fact, you wouldn’t ask Wonwoo for anything. What could he do for you that you couldn’t do yourself?

He doesn’t say anything else, he quietly steps in and takes grip of the zip. After pulling it up, he doesn’t say a word, carefully watching you wear your scanty makeup. It could be a little creepy, but you surprisingly don’t mind. Or perhaps you just don’t care.

“Ah fuck. I forgot to bring the lip gloss.”

“But you just wore lipstick?”

“No,” you turn around and outside of Wonwoo’s periphery. Slipping your feet into your heels and putting on the earrings that had also been sent by your secretary, you told him, “The lip-plumping one. It makes my lips look nice. Well, nicer. They’re already quite pretty, as I’ve been told.” You hear Wonwoo scoff behind you, and you turn around to face him.

“Well, how do I look?”

His hands are in his pockets, his shirt buttons are halfway opened and his hair is messy, but he still looks better than you do after all this effort.

“They’ll love you.”

You smile. That’s more than enough feedback from Jeon Wonwoo. He doesn’t have to praise you outside sex if he can’t do it while fucking.

“They always do.”

And they do. The photographers, the journalists, the social elites, the ministers, their wives, their mistresses, the chaebols, their heirs, and their bastards. Everyone loves you. How could they not? You’re perfect in every way possible. At twenty six, you’re at the height of your life- young, charming and intelligent, everybody wants you. Ever since you took your father’s already prospering business to new heights four years ago, straight out of grad school, by introducing Korea to the world of AI like they’d never seen before. The industry had not just been disrupted by your introduction of AI to the field of healthcare and diagnosis, but also awed by the sheer magnanimity of your creations. You hadn’t spent years perfecting your ideas in vain.

Everyone wants a little bit of your time, a little word with you, slipping in a plea and a pickup line in the same tone, and you love the attention they throw at you. Honestly, this is where you were born to be. The spotlight is where you deserve to belong.

But eventually, the crowd dissipates, leaving you walking towards the bar looking for a martini, arm looped into the arm of your sister. “Y/N-ah, I tell you, let’s go to Jeju this weekend! The weather is perfect now- not too hot, not too cold. The forecast also recommends visiting now!” She tugs at your arm playfully, and you smile fondly. She knows your answer, but she never stops trying. “And what about your husband?” “I need a break from him, please. He’s getting on my nerves!” “Darling, it’s your hormones.” She slaps your wrist. “No! Stop saying that. Kyungmin says the exact same thing, in the exact same tone! It’s so annoying. Stop ganging up against me! Anyway it’s not my fault I’m pregnant. The least he can do is take care of me. If he can’t take care of me now, how is he going to be trained to become a father? Huh? How will he take care of our daught-” “You don’t even know that.” “I do. I have a feeling.” “You can just say you want a girl, you know. There’s nothing called ‘a feeling’.” “Damn it. Just because you have a trash sixth sense doesn’t mean you can dismiss mine, my intuition never goes wrong!”

And you’ve reached the bar, and the bartender serves you your drinks- just a virgin mojito for your sister though. “The canapes are great.” “Hmm… But I’m craving oranges! That’s why we should go to Jeju, yah!” “Unnie, you’ve gotta stop. Don’t excite yourself more than you need to. Do you want orange juice?” “No, eww. Not this artificial flavour.” “If you really want to go to Jeju, take Kyungmin Oppa and go. Don’t ask for me- I’ll never be able to keep up with your tantrums.” “Hmm. That is true. Now that you mention him, I suddenly miss him. For all my complaints, I still love him though-” You giggle at the sudden sappy tone of your sister, tuning out parts of her endless chatter, while your eyes search for someone in the crowds.

Jeon Wonwoo stands out, so he’s easy to find.

He’s wearing the same suit he’d worn earlier, not changed like he had told you. He looks tired and yet, good. Before you realise it, he’s looking back at you, and walking towards where the two of you are standing.

“Oh! Wonwoo-yah! How have you been?” Your sister asks, ever friendly. She’s the only one in the family who doesn’t show that the Jeon and Y/L/N families are rivals in business and hence, avoid speaking to each other. That norm wasn’t broken by you. To be fair, even the nights you spent together had very little conversation. No orgasm-induced dopamine could break through the wall of your egos to encourage you to be friendly with each other. Hell, outside of the bedroom, Wonwoo isn’t even attractive enough to catch your eye.

“Hmm, I’m good, Noona. I see your baby is growing fast. How many weeks left?” His tone is courteous, formal, and sweet. Makes you want to laugh at how different he sounds from the usual voice you hear him speak in.

“About eleven weeks to go. This trimester has been killing me, I swear. I’ve told Kyungmin I don’t want any more kids. Ever. I don’t think I can go through this again, and I haven’t even gotten to the pain of delivery yet. I don’t even know if I can go back to skating after this.”

You scoff. “As if. First get over your never-ending honeymoon period. Then talk about not having any more kids.”

“I support Y/N here. The company will need an heir, and I don’t see anyone else providing any.”

You sigh. There he goes. You roll your eyes at him, “An heir doesn’t have to be through blood relation. Merit exists. But then how can I explain this to someone whose existence is owed to nepotism.”

“Rich of you to say so.”

You take a step closer to Wonwoo, too riled up by the calm way he’s speaking. “I’ve built my world from the ground. From level zero. I haven’t just sat on a throne that was presented to me.”

“Forever the brat, huh? Running your mouth even in public, begging me to shut it?” You notice that Wonwoo has also come closer to you, and you can smell the cologne off him. He’s a solid four inches taller than you, even when you’re wearing heels. But you stare right back into his eyes, yours angry and his cold and superior, as usual. You wonder for the n-th time if his blood even runs warm. You’re tempted to retort back, disgusted by the below-the-belt remark, going off-topic, but your sister’s gently pulling your arm, reminding you that you’re in public. “Back off. Don’t make a scene, guys. Let’s not ruin the evening?” She puts on her best smile to calm you down, and you step away, seething in vain. Wonwoo’s smirk never leaves his face as you two bow and walk away. The way he’s looking at you reminds you of other memories.

You suddenly wonder if your sister had heard the comment or not. Considering her though, probably not. Thank god it was her and not someone else.

The rest of the party flows seamlessly. You’re spiralling slightly in your head though- overthinking can’t be avoided. The way Wonwoo was successful in riling you up has shocked you, to say the least. There have been a thousand such instances, but you don’t remember losing your temper to this extent in any of the situations. But somehow, Wonwoo talking about you not being interested to have children vexed you so much? It just didn’t add up.

It’s the first time you’re doubting your current situation. You’d been absolutely convinced that settlement between the two of you was more to your benefit than his. It wasn’t like you had a dearth of men wanting to fuck you. It was quite the opposite. But a few scandals and rumours had taught you that keeping your private life discreet was the optimal choice. Especially if you were a woman and people simply assumed you’d sucked someone’s dick to get ahead in life.

But the arrangement with Wonwoo was so perfect. He wanted discretion, so did you. He didn’t want to get involved with a random hookup who could get pregnant, you didn’t want a random hookup to get you pregnant. He wanted someone to match his wavelength, and you needed a vent for your stress. Now that you consider the drastic improvement in your energy and efforts, in retrospection, becoming Jeon Wonwoo’s submissive had been the best decision of your life.

It had begun quite suddenly. At your sister’s engagement party. Everyone was delighted with the new couple, especially you. Your sister had never shown any desire to join the company, satisfied with following her passion of ice skating. And now she was getting married to her boyfriend of five years, the love of her life, and everyone was left fondly jealous of the pure happiness on her face, even you.

Perhaps it was because of this jealousy that you’d decided to flirt with Wonwoo at the after-party. Against your better judgement, you’d drifted towards him by the end of the night, until your knees were touching on the barstools, and he was leaning back looking over your figure again and again. I was wondering which spot would be ideal for me to bite first- your collarbones, your cleavage, your thighs or your belly button, he would tell you later. God knows why you’d suddenly decided to find him attractive after fifteen years of knowing each other, but that was it. You’d ended up in a hotel bed that night, fucked until tears ran down your cheeks, begging him to go harder and faster whenever he slowed down to look at the mascara dripping down your face, leaving hickeys all over the soft skin of your breasts, not letting you rest of a second of the night, going at it till dawn.

“Wonwoo… I can’t…” you’d begged, your words muffled through your panties stuffed into your own mouth, the overstimulation hitting you hard as you squirmed against his tongue fucking his cum back into your pussy. “You can, sweetheart, give me another one… hmm? Do you want to be a good girl?”

And you had let loose. Given yourself up to him, to make or break you, as he wanted, and then put you together one by one as the sun rose up in the sky as you’d drifted to sleep. The next afternoon, you’d woken up feeling like a new person, and decided it was the best night of your life. The man in question was nowhere to be seen, but you didn’t care. The bliss ran too deep.

Sadly, not deep enough. The overthinking kicked in a few hours later, and you cussed yourself for becoming so easy for an undeserving man like Wonwoo. Just because he’d made you cum and given you a good time didn’t mean you’d go against your rational thoughts. In a way, he was no better than your best dildo. Except you liked your dildo. You simply did not like Jeon Wonwoo. The arrogant brat had been the type of man you’d avoided all of your life. You hadn’t seen him work hard in school, and now that he had inherited his father’s company, you didn’t see him work any harder either. Sure, Jeon Estates was doing better than ever, but that was only because the economy was booming and the housing market was doing well. He had done nothing extra. Unlike you, who had built your world yourself. You’d never taken your father’s prosperity as complacency, and strived to make a name for yourself. And now people knew of Y/L/N Corporation as synonymous to both your father’s name and your name.

And you had, like a silly stupid girl, gone and slept with this very man.

And you had liked it.

That was the worst bit. An accidental hookup would have been fine. But no, you wanted to sleep with him every night, if it meant he’d treat you to the same feast you’d blissed out on last night. There was a certain happiness in giving up to him, letting go of the constant worries that burdened you down, and allowing him to take control, but god knows how you ended up trusting him so much in bed.

Anyway, you reconciled with yourself, it’s just a one-time thing. It’s not like it’s going to happen again.

You were wrong. Jeon Wonwoo had picked you up that evening and taken you directly to his house.

“What did you want to talk about that you couldn’t do in your car?”

“The chauffeur was there.”

“It’s not a big deal, Jeon. You can just say that you regret last night, cause honestly, same. Don’t want to dwell on it.” You were in a rush to leave, because you didn’t want to think about the memories in this same house the night ago.

“Are you sure?”

His question had taken you aback, as he watched you with his hawk eyes, licking his lips.

“Y/N, I … couldn’t tell you in my car that I didn’t regret it. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.”

You’re speechless, waiting for him to continue, as he took another step forward.

“Wonwoo, I… you know this is a bad idea.”

“I do,” he chuckles darkly. “You look like a bad idea, as I’ve known for years now. But when I see you wearing that hideous turtleneck to hide the hickeys and that tiny skirt that leaves nothing to the imagination, I keep remembering the way you submitted to me last night. For all your big talk and your attitude, you obey pretty easily, huh?”

You stand up, indignant. “Wonwoo, you can’t use that against me. Listen I know we’re not friends-”

“Be my submissive. I want, no fuck, I need you. You’re perfect.” He’s standing an inch away from you, bending his neck gently to look into your eyes. His mask slips for a second. A million emotions flit through your brain, and you’re deliriously begging for your intelligence to kick in, but there’s something about the subtly layered desperation in Wonwoo’s voice that makes you curious.

“What are your terms?”

You look at Wonwoo across the dining table. He looks as put-together as ever, not a hair out of place, as he converses with the middle aged-men sitting next to him while eating dinner. He quickly notes your glance and looks back, and you turn your eyes away before he catches the blush along your cheeks.

No, there’s nothing wrong with the arrangement. It works perfectly in your favour. As long as nobody knows.

You’re wrapping up a meeting with the board members of the company, when you get a call on your phone. It’s Wonwoo. Excusing yourself from the meeting, you pick up the call while walking back to your office.

“Hello?”

“Are you going to the Paris Conclave?”

The invitation for the event had arrived just that evening, the first time they were inviting your company. It had made you gush with excitement, happy that you’d been able to take your company to this prestigious conclave. Moreover, this would be the first time you’d be visiting Paris, one of the few dream destinations of your life. Due to a packed professional schedule, you had hardly been able to travel for the past few years, and the thought of going to Paris made you naturally happy.

“Yes, of course. Getting fomo? I can get a croissant back home for you.”

“I can get my own. See you there.”

He cuts the call.

What was that? He’s going to the conclave as well? That’s impossible. Jeon Estates had never been invited before this-

“Jisung-ah.” You call for your secretary, who appears at your side quickly. “Has the Jeon Estates been invited to the conclave?”

“Ma’am, I- why, yes. I hadn’t checked the list for their name.” His voice drops as he speaks, mirroring the disappointment rising in you too. So, it wasn’t only you who had been invited for the first time.

Fucking Jeon Wonwoo. Even had to call you to rub it in, the nerve.

“Well, we’ll just have to outshine them there. I’m sure we shall. Please organise a meeting with the team leaders and managers today so that we can get the presentations perfected.”

Your secretary bows to you and leaves you alone in your office.

Paris comes sooner than you had thought, and you’re bursting with excitement. Nervousness too, a little bit. But your confidence isn’t so easy to rattle. You’ve picked out your choicest outfits for the trip, hellbent on making it memorable. You’ve even kept a few days extra in hand to allow you free time to travel the city.

You had asked your sister if she’d wanted to come along, but she had said that her doctor hadn’t deemed it safe for her to travel by airplane now. “I’m so jealous! But there’s nothing to be done.” “Go with your husband and your baby afterwards.” You’d kissed her forehead when bidding the final goodbyes before leaving for Paris.

There was just one little worry worming through your brain. Not even a worry, just an irk. Jeon Wonwoo would also be there. You’d have to compete again for the spotlight. As if the jerk deserved to be there.

“Ma’am, do you want to go through your speech once more?” Jisung asked you from the seat next to you. You smiled, the younger man was definitely nervous by the look on his face. “Why, are you scared I’ll forget? You know I take vitamins every day to strengthen my memory.” “I do, but-” “Don’t worry. Don’t let anxiety deter you from forming the memories of the fun times you’ll be enjoying there!”

Fun.

As if. Jisung knew well enough that you rarely had time for fun, and consequently, neither did he. He saw you overwork yourself every day, staying at the office till late, obsessed with perfection, ensuring no loose ends were visible. Even if you tried your best to send him home when his work time ended, he wanted to stay back out of compassion for you. He was truly the best secretary you could’ve asked for. He was godsent- he’d learnt your habits and your thinking process within days, and soon he produced documents and answers before you asked for them, pre-empting your thoughts. After working with you for three years, he was good enough to be your clone- that’s why you sent him to many events and meetings as your representative if you couldn’t make it. You knew he’d handle it as well as you would, and report all the key details to you at the end of the day.

“Yes, Ma’am. I hope it all passes well. We’ve all worked hard.”

“And hard work always pays off, you know that Jisung-ah. Now, sleep quickly so that we’re not tired due to jet lag once we land there.”

They’ve assigned Wonwoo a seat next to you at the conference table. As if seeing his face here wasn’t bad enough.

“Will you never leave me alone?”

He scoffs, “Me? You’ve been at my tail since you were a kid.”

“Oh shut up. Inside school, outside school, at parties, at funerals, at my graduation, at my sister’s wedding, you’re always fucking there. And now you’re here, to steal the spotlight. Not that you can anyway. Don’t try too hard Jeon, you’ll just look pathetic.”

“It’s funny how vain you are. You think I have any desire to steal your spotlight? Go ahead, be the talk of the party, by all means.”

“And I will! I don’t need your permission for it.”

“Hmm-”

The rest of his words get tuned out as the convenor of the conference begins their speech. You turn your eyes towards them, but you can feel Wonwoo’s eyes burning on you.

“What did you say?” You whisper to him.

“Never mind. Do you want to go out tonight?”

“Go out?” You turn your head towards him, leaning in, incredulous.

“For dinner.”

You almost burst out laughing. “And pray, why would I go with you?”

He scrunches his nose and pushes up his glasses. “You’re going to miss out on seeing the Eiffel Tower?”

“No. In fact, I have plans on going today myself. But you didn’t tell me why I’d-”

“Come with me.” He turns his face away from you, his expression cold and unreadable.

“Hell nah. We don’t know each other, okay? Just because we’re both newcomers here does not mean we have to maintain solidarity or any of that shit.”

“You’ll regret it, sweetie.”

“I regret nothing.”

“We’ll see.”

“Jisung-ah! You were scared for nothing. That presentation was flawless.”

“Yes Ma’am. I know our team always works hard, but the nerves never stop,” the young man looks much fresher after the conference wraps up for the day, his tie undone slightly. You can easily understand how his mood changes reflect in his facial expressions and attitude after the long hours you spend with each other on a daily basis.

“Are you still up for going to the Eiffel Tower tonight? I’m planning on skipping the post-conference dinner. But if you want to stay, I won’t force you to come with me.”

“No Ma’am, I was thinking…” he hesitates, but you raise your eyebrows to urge him to continue. “I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to visit the Eiffel Tower again, so I do want to go with you … but after that I’d like to go to one of the clubs in the nightlife zones? I’ve heard from friends that the Paris nightlife is crazy.”

“Ooh!” You pat him on the back, “Yes please Jisung, finally you’ve started to act your age. Go, be young and wild, I’ll cheer for you!”

“You won’t come along?”

“Oh no. I’m way too old for that. Plus I never was into the club scene. And for real, you should go out and enjoy without me sometimes. People will start thinking I’m your girlfriend.”

Jisung opens his mouth to say something, but ends up just smiling shyly. “Okay Ma’am. Then should we leave for the Eiffel at 7 pm?”

“Yes. Pick me up from my suite then.”

“Yes Ma’am.”

“Sorry Ma’am, the Eiffel Tower has been booked out for the evening. It’s been a really sudden booking, and we’re sorry for the inconvenience, but it’s just been booked out completely by a private party and no external visitors are allowed.”

You’re wearing your best white silk Gucci dress, the one you spent your entire salary on as soon as it was released at last year’s Fashion week, and a stunning Cartier necklace, ready to spend the best evening of your life atop the Eiffel Tower, savouring life at its finest… but no. Some jerk just had to book it for this evening.

You slide up to the lady at the front desk, whose bored expression does nothing to calm your nerves down. Jisung has tried his level best to convince her, but it’s failed. So you try the one thing you know always works.

“Ruth-” you see her name from her name tag pinned on her chest. “I can outbid the private party.”

“I’m sorry Ma’am, I didn’t get you.”

You laugh, a careful measured laugh, to hide your irritation at having to say it again. “I said, I can pay you more than whatever the private party’s booked it at. I just want ten minutes. Isn’t it a win-win situation for all of us? Ten minutes for me, and your private client can enjoy it for the rest of the night.”

Ruth smiles, pitifully. Wretched woman, she’s clearly not affected by your offer. This is what seeing too many rich people in a day does to a person, it immunes them to bribe, you think. Well, it’s her loss.

“I’m sorry Ma’am, but we really cannot accept your offer. It’s against our rules-”

“Let me speak to your manager, Ruth. Trust me, when they hear my name, they’ll let me in,” you smile again, attempting to remain amicable instead of bursting out into the wildest Korean slang.

Ruth smiles again, “You are, currently, speaking to the Manager here, Ma’am. We simply cannot allow any external visitors tonight. Can we book a slot for you tomorrow? If you’d like to visit again, in the morning or later.”

Jisung tries to interject, but he sounds resigned. He seems intimidated by Ruth, and frankly speaking, you get it. He’s just twenty four and spends over thirteen hours in a day with you, so he’s not used to snarky women. Well, apart from you, and you’re never snarky to him.

“Ruth, my dear. I’m Y/N Y/L/N, I’m here at the Paris Conclave.” You say your name solemnly, expecting it to have the same effect it has in Korea, but alas, the woman remains untouched as ever. “I’m dreadfully sorry Ma’am- wait, did you say Y/N Y/L/N?” Your smile becomes wider. Oh so it does have the intended effect. “So you finally will let me in, huh? You do know who I am.”

Suddenly Ruth’s demeanour changes and she’s smiling pleasantly. “Oh Ma’am, the private client has specially informed us to allow you in. Only you.” “I’m sorry, what? Why would they suddenly ask for me-” “Mr. Jeon told us that you would be here. I’m so sorry for the miscommunication, Ms. Y/L/N-”

“Mr. Jeon?!” You’ve got to be fucking kidding me, you bitch. Aloud you say, “Mr. Wonwoo Jeon?” “Yes Ma’am. He’s booked the entire place for the evening. He has been waiting for you too,” Ruth smiles graciously, doing nothing to relieve your confusion. “There has been a mistake. I don’t think he meant me. We’ll leave now-” “Ma’am, I’m sure there’s no confusion now. Mr. Jeon asked us to bring you up as soon as you arrived. We’re sorry to keep you standing here on your date night.” “Date night? This is ridiculous. Wonwoo and I are not-” Jisung whispers into your ears right at moment, noticing your bloodshot wide eyes, “Ma’am, I think there’s no point fighting with them on this,” he says in Korean. “This lady seems adamant, and you shouldn’t miss out on an opportunity to visit the Eiffel Tower when it’s lit up so prettily. Even if it is with Mr. Jeon,” you wince at his suggestion, and he smiles apologetically. He’s right, you realise.

“Okay, but Jisung comes with me.”

“I’m sorry Ma’am.” Oh I’ve had enough of your sorries. “No one except you are to be allowed up.”

“Wow. First you say no external visitors. Now suddenly I’m allowed and Jisung is not-”

“Ms. Y/L/N, these are simply instructions from my client.”

Jisung bites his lip and says, “Well I guess it’s not written in my fate then. Ma’am, don’t miss out on my account. Please enjoy. I’ll just go downtown and waste the night away. I’ll see you tomorrow then? Please make sure to eat dinner!” You’re seconds away from whining and pulling another tantrum, but Jisung whispers fighting to you in his soft indulgent tone that he uses on you whenever you’re being a brat and he needs to take care of you. And then he’s gone, and you have no option but to face Ruth. That bloody woman. “Welcome to the Eiffel Tower, Ma’am. Please accompany me as we take you to the top.”

At the top, Jeon Wonwoo stands with a glass of champagne in his left hand and his mobile phone in his right.

“If you’re going to work on your phone and not enjoy the view, why the fuck did you book this place out?”

You walk towards the man standing in the open air viewing area, and he smiles at you. The annoyingly handsome smile, where his eyes crinkle up, and his perfectly white teeth are revealed in a rare display.

“You came. I knew you’d come.”

“How so?” A server appears from nowhere and offers you champagne too, which you accept. You’ll soon switch to whisky though, to calm your nerves down.

“You’re easily predictable. You act like any other average tourist, although you pretend to be such a princess.”

“Everyone comes to visit Eiffel Tower on their first day in Paris, Wonwoo, there’s nothing weird about this-”

“Exactly. Average. Me? I personally prefer to see it from the window of my hotel, so that I can see it in its glory without experiencing this slight dizziness and bling of the night view.”

“You’re stupid. That’s why you have such stupid preferences. This night view? Priceless.”

“Let me inform you, darling, it cost me a hell lot to book this. So not priceless.”

You laugh, looking at Wonwoo, who’s leaning against the railing facing you, and then back at the gorgeous night view. The Champs Elysees looks glorious with the lights. You can sense Wonwoo leaning in closer. His cologne and perfume mix to create a dark, musky smell that’s new. You’ve never smelled this on him before. “Why did you book it? That’s what I've been asking since forever.”

“I want to fuck you against this railing.”

You choke on the champagne, before catching your breath and turning back to face him.

“What?”

“You heard me the first time.” He maintains eye contact, but in that cold, nonchalant way of his, like he didn’t just propose the most scandalous thing you’ve ever heard.

“Aren’t there cameras?”

“Will pay for them to be turned off.”

“That’s probably illegal.”

“I don’t care. I’ll pay enough. Plus, I’ve already located the blind spots.”

You take a deep breath. As ashamed as you are to admit this, it does turn you on. A lot. If Wonwoo would touch you under your dress, he’d find evidence of the same. Sex like this- in public, definitely the most outrageous thing you’ve done. But Wonwoo suggesting it? The fact that he booked this place out on a probability that you’d come and a hope that you’d agree to it? The more you think about it, the hotter your body feels. You can feel your nipples straining against your dress in the cold air, and your face turning red with imagination.

“If you don’t want it, we can just eat dinner and leave.” Wonwoo’s eyes have become impossibly gentler but also darker, like he’s seconds away from losing his control. His sight betrays his words as he keeps looking at your lips. Thank god I applied the lip plumper tonight, you think. But then his eyes go to your breasts, like the pervert he is, and he smirks at the sight of the two nubs pressing hard against the soft silk.

You shake your head.

“Say it.”

“I want it too.”

“Atta girl,” his smirk widens, before he leans in to capture your lips. It’s a rough kiss, nothing romantic like one would expect atop the Eiffel Tower, but it sets the right mood for the night. You realise that all servers have disappeared, and you’re perfectly alone, as his lips move down towards your neck, leaving beautiful hickeys along the way. “It was torture and heaven waiting for you. Knowing you’d come, but fearing you wouldn’t.” His hands take away your champagne glasses and place them on a table nearby, before bending you backwards on the railing, making your head zoom more with pleasure. What if I fall off? What if someone catches us like this? What if he takes a picture of me like this in front of the view, with my tits out and my lipstick ruined?

“No bra, huh? You’re so sexy in this dress, I want to fuck you in it. You mind that?” You’re panting as he keeps kissing you in between his words, tongue dominating yours right away. It’s like a switch flipped inside you. Just minutes ago, you were so against sharing the Eiffel Tower view with Wonwoo, and now you’re letting him fuck you here. It drives you crazy.

“Wonwoo just- I don’t care, I need you now.” He bites all over your shoulder, slipping down the straps to grope your breasts in the rough-handed manner you like, sure to leave bruises with the way he kneads them while leaving open-mouthed kisses on your collarbone.

“Just because we’re out in the open doesn’t mean you forget your bedroom manners.” He bites down on your nipple, surely missing his favourite clamps back home, and you squirm in his iron grip.

“Sir please!”

“That’s better, sweetheart. But what do you want?”

“C-Co-” he alternates his bites with little kitten licks, looking up at you. “Articulation, baby. Speak up.” “Want your cock, in my m- mouth, Sir!” He pulls away from you, leaving the cold air to tease your bruised nipples, and laughs. Fucking laughs, but it turns you on again. “If you insist.”

He takes off his belt and ties your hands behind your back, and then pushes your shoulder down and you fall to your knees, and he stands back, tall. “Oh, what a pretty sight,” he sighs, taking in the night sky view, and then looks down at you, but makes no move to open his pants. You assume you’ll have to take care of it yourself, so you attempt to open the zipper with your teeth. It’s not particularly difficult, but in the process you get some drool over Wonwoo’s cock over his pants. “Tch. Dirty girl, drooling everywhere,” he wipes away the drool from the edge of your lips, before you slot your mouth against his erection, now free from his underwear and pants which have slid down his legs. It’s not as hard as it gets during sex, but that’s what you’re here for. Nothing but a slut for him to use. Your ankles burn against your heels in this position, but it’s okay. You’re losing your mind as you swallow his sheath inch-by-inch, until you feel his skin against your nose, and you stay like that for a second, easing out your gag reflex. But before you can move, Wonwoo thrusts deep into your throat, eyes not leaving yours. It makes you roll your eyes, the pleasure of the surprise way more than the pain, and makes you crave for more. He slowly wraps his hands around your head, a strong broad support for you to rest in, and continues to ram his dick inside your mouth. Your body becomes limp as you slowly surrender to his actions, your mind blank, except a crazy wanton desire to please him and make him cum. You’re too sex-crazed right now to reason out why only Wonwoo elicits this reaction from you.

But then his dick gets rock hard, and right when its weight becomes the best and warmest around your throat, wet with saliva and pre-cum, he pulls out. You can’t frame words instantly, but you whine. “Ah, Wo- I- pl- co- please…” He laughs cockily at your state, and you blush with shame at the way you’re acting. “Get up,” he walks away from you, leaving you to your own devices to stand up in those heels.

It strikes you yet again, just how open this all is. Anyone can walk in. The security guard may be jerking off watching this on the security cameras, and you won’t lie, it’s hot as fuck. The thought of Wonwoo and your activities being porn for someone else- oh fuck.

Wonwoo sits on a couch meant for visitors on the balcony. “Come baby,” he beckons, and you sit on his lap. His cock is still hard, leaking pre-cum, and you’re tempted to lick it off, but you won’t make a move until he tells you to. You can’t disobey him now- if he spanks you in punishment, you won’t be able to walk to the conference tomorrow.

“Spit on it.” And you do. Wonwoo likes your spit, for some reason, and you wordlessly obey. Then he pulls out something from his pocket, and you realise- “No Sir! Please, not the paddle today!” It’s a folded paddle, the pocket-friendly one you can buy at cheap sex stores. “I need to walk tomorrow, I can’t if you spank me-” “But you’ve been so naughty. Begging for my cock in a public place like the little slut you are. Not accepting my invitation to come up here and making me wait for so long. Turning my offer for dinner down at the conference this morning,” You try to protest, but he simply inserts his thumb into your mouth, and you instinctively start sucking on it. “Now be pretty, and let Sir show you your place.” While you’re still distractedly sucking the thumb, you don’t even realise when he’s lifted the back of your dress and the paddle hits the ass flesh exposed by your thong. “Count.” “One,” you whimper out, not wanting his thumb to slip out of your mouth. The spanks continue, alternating on ass. He can alternate between asses and keep the same pressure just by one hand, the other holding up your dress, his hands big enough to cover your entire ass cheek. The spanks burn more after the moment’s relief due to the cold air, and by the time you reach twenty, your knees have given up, and you’re drooling on Wonwoo’s shoulder.

“Don’t make a mess. Sit up straight.” As you do so, he asks you, putting away the paddle and tucking your hair behind your ears. “Have you learnt how to behave? Or do you need another reminder?” You fervently shake your head, but he whispers in his insanely sexy tone, “Words.” It makes you shiver, and you respond, “Yes Sir. I’ll not misbehave, Sir.” He smirks, and leans back. “Now ride me like you mean your words, darling.”

You don’t need another command. You sit down on his dick quickly, ready to take the burn without any prep, because you’re already leaking down your thighs. He grips your hips with one hand, steadying you, and cards his other hand through your hair. As you begin bouncing down on him, he shudders and releases low grunts, but nothing breaks his composure. He never once whispers Good Girl, as you cum once, but you still keep riding him to ensure he reaches his climax. Somewhere after your orgasm, he starts thrusting up from below to meet your efforts, and it brings him closer to his orgasm as he scrunches his nose and closes his eyes. When he does spurt inside you, he whispers softly enough that you almost miss it, “Fucking gorgeous.”

That’s enough praise for the night, you think to yourself, as you fall limply against his chest, nearly passed out from the strain, his cock still spasming inside of you. He soothes your hair, and you fall asleep.

“Ma’am? Ma’am? Please wake up! We’re running late. Ma’am? Ms. Y/L/N?” You open your eyes blearily to see Jisung shaking you lightly. Slowly you come to your senses, and you can hear his voice louder, and see the desperation in his face clearly.

Fuck.

What have you done?

“How late am I?”

“Not too bad, Ma’am,” Jisung scrunches his nose as he looks at the clock on your bedside table. “We have twenty minutes to go.”

“Fuck!” You scramble out of bed, not even bothering to check if you’re clothed, and make your way to the washroom. There’s a pain growing in your head, and it’s only when you see yourself in the mirror that you realise that you’re wearing a t-shirt and shorts. What even happened last night? The last thing you remember, as you try to recollect while quickly brushing your teeth, washing your hair and hopping into the shower all at the same time, is that you had passed out on Wonwoo’s shoulder. Then the world had gone blank. Fucked into oblivion, truly. He must have brought you into your room. Oh fucking hell, he owed you at least that much.

By the time you wrapped your bathing suit around you and walked back into your bedroom, Jisung was gone, but your outfit and shoes were laid out on the bed and there was a note, I’ll pack some breakfast for you, Ma’am. Please come down directly to the conference hall. Thank god for Jisung, that was one prayer you said everyday. He’d been partying too last night, hadn’t he? And yet, he had responsibly made it on time and woken you up as well. You were getting too irresponsible, too lax. Your discipline was gone and you mentally bashed yourself for it. All because of that stupid Wonwoo.

After that, it doesn’t take much time for you to get dressed. Jisung must’ve noticed the hickeys on your neck, and brought you a jacket with lapels and a collar high enough to hide most of the marks. You quickly tied a scarf around your neck, making it look fashionable by adding colour to the otherwise beige monotone outfit, and praised yourself mentally for looking this good even without makeup. Dabbing on some lip balm in the elevator, you quickly reached the conference hall, finding yourself a minute late. Again, thank god for Jisung, the boy had reserved your seat, made excuses on your behalf and kept a croissant and coffee ready at your seat, so that everyone greeted you with kind smiles.

Except Wonwoo, who had that unreadable expression again.

Must be pathetic, living like him. What worth was a face like that if it couldn’t express anything?

Four days later, you land in Incheon amidst the wildest of storms the country has faced in the year. You won’t admit it, but you’re glad you travelled in your private jet, where you can close all windows down and wrap yourself up in a blanket burrito to drown out all signs of the storm. You wish storms didn’t exist, and you wish no one would have to see you in this weak state. Not Wonwoo for sure.

After that first day in Paris, the two of you had barely interacted. Primarily, you were too ashamed to speak to him. How could you smile and talk normally to someone after getting railed by them on the Eiffel Tower, especially when that same someone was annoying as fuck in reality? Sure, eye contact had been made several times, over dinners, over the conference tables, when you’d been on the stage presenting, and when running into each other in the corridor. But words? You possibly couldn’t. It’d be too much for the fragile self-respect you’d been holding on to.

You really want to avoid him once you’re back in Seoul as well. The workload seems to have tripled in the few days you were away, with endless tiny emergencies and approvals pending to be resolved. You’re again thankful for Jisung, but there’s only so much the poor boy can do. You make it a point to send him home soon after his scheduled timing every day, but you can’t say the same for yourself.

It’s the fifth night of you eating ramen from a cup noodles pack and sipping on apple juice from a 1 litre tetra pack, that you finally give up on the abstention. It’s a hard decision, but somehow, your overworked brain and sleep-deprived body leads you to one craving, and one craving only.

Thirty minutes later, Jeon Wonwoo arrives at your office. He’s been to your office only rarely, as you both prefer to meet up outside professional areas, but in the darkness of the empty office, he can easily recognise your brightly-lit room. He’s dressed in formals too, as if he’s just got off work himself, and you think he may be in the same boat as you. But definitely not as much as you- you’re a perfectionist who looks over everything yourself, Wonwoo doesn’t even come close for sure.

“It’s one of those nights, huh?”

He gently opens the door and walks in. Everything about him seems to be delicate today: perhaps it’s because his shirt is damp from the rain he’s surely walked in, his hair is wet and falling over his eyes, and his tie is gone. His jacket is soon gone too, dropped off on the couch, and he takes off his shoes. They’re leaving slightly muddy footprints, and you wonder if Wonwoo even drove and came or just ran like a peasant.

“How’s work treating you?”

“Stop wolfing down that ramen, it’s not healthy. Not as bad as you, as I see. I finished up hours ago,” his eyes don’t meet yours, and you know it’s a lie. It’s one of the signs of lying, as you’ve picked up over the years. Wonwoo rarely breaks eye contact while speaking, always honest, and his lie is really odd to you right now. Why would he lie to you about this?

“I was wondering, if…” you stand up from your desk, taking in the figure of the man sitting on your couch now, manspreading and head leaning back. He’s tired, why did he lie about getting off early?

“Come here, princess.”

That’s all it takes, and you sit on his lap and wait for his lips to meet yours. He indulges you in your wish, and immediately the tension in your body eases out. Along with the stress of work, you’d been even more worried that he’d bring up your last night together, and you’d get too ashamed to remain turned on. But he doesn’t, and you’re glad. You let your lips be bitten by him, but then he soothes over the burns with his tongue. He tastes like candy, and you tell him the same.

“Hmm, low sugar.”

Then he picks you up and gently walks over to your desk, holding you in the same bridal pose without even a muscle flinching. With one hand, he clears the laptop sitting atop your desk to the coffee table, and swipes the rest of the clutter on the floor. It would’ve made you angry otherwise, but you’re already entering subzone with the way he’s handling you. Lips still locked on yours, holding you in that pose with just one hand as you hold on to his shoulders for dear life, it’s a crazy show of strength and you’re getting incredibly turned on by it. You let yourself go, giving it up to this person, who seems to be so reliable, so strong, so manly.

As he lays you down on the desk, he takes off your trousers and underwear in one go, and sits down on the chair you usually sit on.

“You’re so wet, so dirty. Did you touch yourself after texting me to come over?” Your pussy is at his eye level, and you’re looking down at him, his eyes menacing and beautiful at the same time. His question makes you squirm, as you reply, “Of course not.” Then there’s a slap across your cunt, and you whine. “Manners?” “Of course not, Sir.” “Liar,” he smirks, and dives headfirst into your cunt.

It’s a treat he rarely gives you. Only when he’s very happy with you- like after you’ve taken thirty spanks, or you’ve eaten dinner with him while having a vibrator stuffed up your cunt, or you’ve let him wash you in the shower (for some reason, Wonwoo likes that a lot. He ties you up to these poles he’s attached in his bathroom, and plays with your body by applying as much oil and soap he wants, making sure not to touch your pussy for hours, denying every release to you even as it builds up just from the oversensitivity of having your nipples and ass played with).

You wonder why he’s so happy.

But you can’t care enough, now that his tongue is working so hard against your clit. The sensation makes you lose all rational thought, as you lean back against the desk, mind empty, and just moaning his name. You remember the first few times he’d fucked you with your mouth gagged, but then he’d told you he likes your sounds way too much, so you’d stopped controlling them too. He gets what he wants. After all, only he can fuck you so well.

“Wonwoo, please-” He moves his head up, licking his lips which are glistening with your slick. “How do you address me baby?” “S-sorry! Sir, please I-” “Hmm?” He leans back in, humming against your clit. His tongue now moves to your hole, nose brushing against your clit. “Can I come? Like this? May I? Please?” When he moves away again for breath, he removes his hands from your thighs, and you see the red marks he’s left there just by how tight he was gripping them. It’s a wild sight, and your climax hits you right then, coming before he could answer. “So impatient, coming all over my face even when I’ve told you not to come without my permission.” But even his scolding sounds gentle tonight, softly chiding rather than his usual harsh coldness. In your post-orgasm clarity, you wonder again what’s gotten into him.

He licks away your cum, and it makes you burn with overstimulation. “Uhhhhh, please-please Sir!” “Stay still.” His hands are back at your thighs, spreading them apart, and he seems hellbent on getting another orgasm from you. Your screams are louder this time, and you’re growing even more desperate to get something bigger to fill you up. You wrap your hands in his hair, and tug unconsciously while he keeps licking at your pussy. His entire face is hazy with your slick, thank god he’d taken off his glasses earlier, but he doesn’t care. He keeps diving in.

“Sir, please, I’m going- uhhhh,” he pulls away instantly and smacks your cunt hard. “No coming until I allow you to. Let Sir have his treat.” “Please Sir I’ll be so good, I promise, I- please let me, just this once.” Another smack, and you’re screaming. Thank heavens the office is empty.

“Do you not understand my words? Should I retrain you?”

“No! I’m sorry. I’ll be good, I promise.”

“Hmm, you better be,” and this time he doesn’t just lick your pussy, but also starts entering two fingers alongside his tongue, hitting your g-spot almost instantly. You’re whining yet again, losing your breath, but everytime you’re about to come, he pulls away. You can’t figure out how he realises, but soon two hours pass by, and you’re still being edged. Your legs are shaking, and you can’t think straight. You just want more of his fingers, you want his cock, inside your mouth, your cunt, hell, you just want to orgasm once.

“Girl, stop moving. You’re so filthy, dripping like this. What would your boytoy think if he saw you like this? Should I call him to clean this mess on your desk?” He’s curling his finger inside you, and it’s really hard forming words when you’re seeing stars like this.

“Sir, I-” “What’s his name? Jieun?” “Ji- Jisung. Aaah, please-” “Look at you begging. So pathetic. No wonder your secretary is so pathetic. He really likes you, you know?” Your eyes go wide, trying to register his words. “Why- why are you- how do you–” “Hush. I want to know, is he jerking off to you now? Thinking of how slutty you looked in those grey trousers, how perfect your ass looked? Bet you show off in front of him on purpose.” You’re squirming harder, not wanting to think about Jisung right now. “But- but daddy, I on- only want you!”

He laughs, then he leans in to whisper into your ear, “Daddy? That’s a first. Say it again.”

“Daddy, please! I only want your cock.”

“Really? So demanding, like a wife. But you’re just a slut. You’d do this to Jisung as well, won’t you?” “No! I swear- please. Daddy, just, it’s just you.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes, I swear!” You nod feverishly, the sensation building up inside you again.

“Okay baby girl. Come for me. Come for daddy. Then I’ll take you home and fuck you good. This desk is too small.” You don’t need to be told twice. You gush all over his hands and some of your come ends up on your desk and his pants too, but he only chuckles. Licking off the come on his hands, he smiles. “You taste like sugar, sweetheart.”

The sheets you wake up in smell overwhelmingly like Wonwoo. The man is nowhere to be seen, but the blankets next to you are shuffled and the pillow has a dent, and you remember being caved by his warmth at night when the storm had hit Seoul again and you’d woken up for a second before falling asleep to the steady rise and fall of the chest wrapped around you.

You wake up slowly, adjusting your eyes to the sunlight. This isn’t the first time you’ve been in Wonwoo’s bedroom, but this is the first time you’ve slept over. Usually you leave, no matter how late it is. But it feels good. It feels oddly intimate.

Your legs burn when you walk, but you try to look for your clothes.

Your shirt is ripped again.

You strut out of the room after wearing your panties and bra, which is barely holding on to one hook remaining, and find the man standing in the open kitchen, wearing a tank top and sweatpants. He’s drinking coffee, and a book is in his hands.

“Wonwoo, you’ve torn my clothes again. How am I supposed to go home like this?”

He turns to face you, smiling and fixing his glasses, and standing up. He looks so good in the warmth of the sunlight falling on his golden skin. “You’re up.”

“Do you think I can keep buying new clothes?”

“Yes. Now, calm down. Do you-”

“Wonwoo!”

“For god’s sake, I can’t take your shit this early in the morning. You want to fight, please do. Not now. It’s too early. You just always find something up your ass and have to pick on me for nothing, huh?”

His smile has faded, and the warmth in your body seeps away. About time, though. You don’t want to start feeling safe in Wonwoo’s private space. It’s too intimate- waking up in his bed, seeing him walk around in sweatpants, drinking coffee he’s making for you. It’s too much.

“This has to stop, Wonwoo.”

“Okay, fine! I’ll not rip your shirts. Take my card and buy something-”

“This arrangement has to stop.”

He turns away from the coffee machine for a second, and stares at you. You walk towards him, and he looks even better up close. His tank top shows off his arms, and they look soft yet really firm. You want to touch-

“Why? Have I made you uncomfortable?”

“No, it’s not-”

“Do you want to date someone? You can, you know. I don’t care-”

“Wonwoo-”

“Did I hurt you? Was I too much last night?” he steps closer to you, furrowing his eyebrows in evident confusion, and you suddenly can’t breathe. His expression is very much readable and it only reads as one emotion- concern.

“Wonwoo, please.” You take a step back, hugging yourself with your arms.

“Does it hurt? I am sorry if it does-”

“It’s not your fault. It’s a me thing, I swear.”

His eyes become clouded by even more confusion, and you quietly walk away and sit down on the kitchen counter.

“This is becoming too much for me. I- I got into this arrangement thinking that it would be a good way to vent stress. But it’s toxic now- I can’t think of any other way to deal with stress except this. Don’t you notice how our meetings have become more frequent now, especially initiated from my end? In the last three months, I’ve initiated sex fifteen times, and you’ve only six times. You see? This has become my only solution now.”

Wonwoo doesn’t look at you, but he keeps wincing at your words as if he’s being hit physically. Then he responds, when you’re done, “That does sound like a you problem, like why-”

You slide off the counter with a huff, muttering Fucking jerk under your breath, but he catches your wrist before you can walk further away.

“Don’t touch me if you’re going to react like that. I fucking knew it, why did I even talk to you? I can just walk away, I didn’t even need to expose my weaknesses to you.”

He yanks you closer using your wrist. “This isn’t a war, Y/N. I don’t get off on knowing about your weaknesses, for fuck’s sake. Can you stop being paranoid?”

You sigh. You know you’re always paranoid around him- funny, because he’s seen you in more compromising positions than anyone else. If he wanted to blackmail you, or hurt you, by hitting your weaknesses, he would, you realise. Is that why you’ve learnt to feel so safe around him?

“I’m sorry I reacted like that, Y/N. Talk to me, let’s work this out together. Let’s set up a system to slow our meetings down if you like?”

You bite your lip, and look up at him. “How?”

“Umm, how about you start to find other sources for it? Like hanging out with friends? Developing hobbies?”

You huff again, twisting your hand out of his grip. “Wonwoo, if I had other sources, would I not use them?”

“Darl-”

“Don’t call me that! We’re not having sex right now.”

“Y/N. Take your time to find other sources, then. If I’m your only means of relieving stress, it is extremely toxic. You’ll become dependent on me, and-” his pupils shake, looking away from you, “you’ll find it tough to date and all. Been there. Done that. That’s why I can tell you this.”

You’re about to reply something, when your phone rings out in a shrill tone. Surprisingly, Wonwoo’s phone rings out at the same time too.

You jog into the bedroom to find your phone and pick it up. It’s your sister.

“Y/N-ie! You’re not at home?”

“No. Why? Are you coming over?”

“No, I just made Kyungmin drive us to your place to see your place is empty. Where are you?”

“Never mind where I am. Why did you come over?”

“Mum and Dad want us to have lunch with the Jeons,” you can hear her giggle. But you’re stunned. “With the Jeons? Now? Today? For what joy? Are we buying their company?” She giggles again, leaving you more frustrated. “You’ll find out. I’ll send you an address then, come over directly!” And she promptly ends the call, leaving you blank and confused. Your phone pings- there’s the address of a restaurant, and a message asking you to be there within an hour. You realise only now how late you’ve woken up, and you’re glad it’s a Sunday.

“Why am I eating lunch with your parents?” Wonwoo walks into the bedroom, that confused look on his face again. “I could literally ask you the same damn thing. What’s going on?” “Does it look like I’ve got a single clue, babe?” He smirks at your cluelessness, and walks into his ensuite bathroom, leaving you speechless. Did he just call me babe? You wonder, but then your mind flits back to the issue at hand.

“Wonwoo!” You scream at him from outside the bathroom. You’re sure he can hear you, so you don’t wait for a reply. “Yah! What am I supposed to wear? You’ve torn my clothes, you fucker!” Your stress levels are rising again. You’re going to have to go back home to wear something appropriate. You realise that you haven’t even brought your car. You’ll have to ask Wonwoo to drive you back. But fuck, what if your sister is still at your place? Then she’ll see you both coming together, and undoubtedly she’ll prod and poke you. Then you won’t be able to have the upper hand at lunch when Wonwoo signs his company over to you. But there’s no other option as well. Well, there is- you can always stop at a boutique or a shop to buy something and wear it on the go. But that’d mean you’d have to go out in this hideously ripped blouse of yours. Oh!

“Wonwoo! You dumbass! I hate you! What have you done now? Why are we going for this lunch? For god’s sake.”

“Stop screaming, woman.” The door suddenly opens, and a half-naked Wonwoo steps out, engulfed in the steam from what was definitely a very hot shower. You have to stop yourself from moaning out at the sight. It reminds you of the three times you’ve showered together, and you can’t help but think back to the vivid memories of those sessions.

“How can I stop screaming? I don’t even know what’s going on. You knew about this, didn’t you? Why are you so calm?” Wonwoo takes another step towards you, and he runs his hands along your arms. You shiver under his touch, realising you’re still wearing just your underwear. “Calm down. This isn’t a big deal, you’ve dealt with more serious issues. It’s just lunch.” “But it’s lunch with your family. I don’t even know why.” He presses a hand along your cheek, and you’re feeling even more conscious and nervous. Why? This is really unusual, because Wonwoo is right. You’ve been in worse emergencies. Why is this getting on your nerves? Probably because your periods are due this week. These are just your hormones.

“Just enjoy the food. You’re anyway good at ignoring me in public places, and you can do the same to my family too.”

You bite your lip, and shake your head. “I need fresh clothes.”

“Yeah okay. Get into the shower and clean yourself up. I’ll ask my secretary to send something over.” “What? How-” “I think she’s the same dimensions as you.” “Oh.” You step away from him, swallowing whatever words you had to say. “I’ll go into the shower then.”

Thirty-five minutes and a very nice warm shower later, you’re standing in the bedroom and there’s a very pretty black dress on the bed. There’s also a new pair of lingerie next to it, complete with red roses sewn into black lace. Wow, that’s what Wonwoo asked his secretary to buy, huh. He definitely knows her dimensions very well. And the clothes fit, almost perfectly as if tailor-made. The dress is of unknown brand but the feel of the satin on your skin feels nice enough for you to forget about its origin.

“Done?” Wonwoo steps into the room. “Jeez, can you knock? Scared me.” You’re applying Wonwoo’s sunscreen (frankly shocked to see him owning it, but then, his skin is pretty nice). You’ve also applied the same perfume as his, and combed your hair in a million different ways, to make up for the lack of make-up or your usual products.

“Knock when I’ve seen you naked in this very room a hundred times? No thanks. Let’s go, we’re late.”

“Hmm,” you slip your feet into your shoes and pick up your bag. “I’m ready.” So is Wonwoo, you notice, who’s dressed in a grey sweater and jeans. The softness of his clothes contrast the sharpness of his features, and it… looks nice.

It takes you two twenty minutes to reach the restaurant, the ride passed in silence as you catch up on work mails from your phone.

“I’ll go first, and you come ten minutes later, okay?” “Yeah. And Y/N, don’t tell them you were with me, okay?” “Of course not. I’m not a dumb nut like you.” And you shut the door of the car with unnecessary force as you walk out of the car. You swear you can hear Wonwoo curse behind you, but you give no fucks.

“Oh! Y/N-ie! Welcome!” You walk straight into the arms of your mother, who’s dressed in a gaudy dress that does not suit her figure. “Eomma! How many times have I asked you not to wear these dresses?” “Oh shush! I bought this last weekend. Don’t tell me it looks bad, I’m in a good mood now.” You grimace and walk towards the table where your sister, her husband, and your father are waiting for you, smiling from ear to ear. Mr and Mrs Jeon, and Wonwoo’s younger brother are sitting on the other side of the table, also smiling from ear to ear. The excessive smiles are disturbing you, you’ve positively never seen Mrs. Jeon smile that wide.

“Oh, you look so good! Did you lose weight, Y/N-ie?” Mrs Jeon beckons you to sit next to her, and she takes your hand in hers. You force a smile on your face, still clueless about what’s going on. You can only hope they start talking about it when Wonwoo comes.

Speaking of the devil, he does come way earlier than you asked him too. You’re suddenly nervous, as the families start smiling again. “Aigoo, our handsome boy is here. Sit here, sit here.” Your sister welcomes him and he sits wedged between her and his mother.

“Eomma, what’s going on?” he asks.

“Aah, straight to the point. Forget about that, tell us, did you both come together?” You spill out the drink from your mouth, almost choking. “Us? Together? Hahaha. No, of course not! Why would you think that Mrs Jeon? Hahaha.” “Hmm…” your sister exchanges looks with your mother and Mrs Jeon, before finally giving you that stupidly bright smile again. “Is there something you both want to tell us? We’ll give you a chance before-” Wonwoo interrupts, “Appa, what’s this nonsense? Just tell us without this suspense.”

Mr Jeon, who’d quietly been busy on his phone for so long, looks up and stares a little blankly. His wife nudges him, and then he seems to remember. “Oh, so, Wonwoo. You know you both can tell us what you want.” Your father pipes in, “Yes, same goes for you, Y/N.” Wonwoo and you exchange confused looks before you speak up, “Okay, but really. What’s this suspense for?”

“We know you’re dating.” Your sister blurts out, and there’s a sudden silence at the table.

You think your eyes may burst out from the shock, and the way in which your palms instantly become sweaty is a dead giveaway of your nervousness. “What?! Unnie, are you out of your mind? What the fuck?”

“Language, Y/n-ah.” Your mother says, “You think we don’t know what you both are doing, huh?” And then she giggles. The damn audacity.

“I think there’s some grave misunderstanding, Mrs Y/L/N. Y/N and I are… certainly, not dating.” Wonwoo’s mother grasps his hand across the table, and says, “Oh my son. My dutiful son. You don’t have to pretend about this. Just because Jeon Estates is rivals with Y/N’s company, doesn’t mean you both have to be secretive about dating!” There’s a little cough from both fathers, and Kyungmin and Wonbin, Wonwoo’s brother, burst out laughing.

“Eomma, we’re not hiding anything. It’s a fact, we aren’t-”

“Explain these then. Booking out Eiffel Tower for a dinner date, huh?”

“Eomma, how do you know? Are you spying on me?”

“No! Of course not! We just looked at your credit card bill, accidentally. Then I spoke to Bora, your secretary, and she confirmed that you’d been spending a lot of time with Y/N. Not only that, there’s more-”

“Yes, indeed. Y/N-ie, why didn’t you ever tell us?”

You gasp, feeling lightheaded. “Did Jisung…? That trai-”

“Not Jisung. Jisung wouldn’t open his mouth. So I spoke to your chauffeur. He tells me he regularly picks you up from Wonwoo’s place?”

That’s it. This is it. It doesn’t get worse than this. This is your end. Oh, earth, swallow me up.

“Darling,” Mrs Jeon rubs your back, “Please don’t feel so shy. We know that our husbands haven’t left a great friendship for you two heirs. But you need not worry about all this rivalry.”

Your sister joins, “Yes. I’ve convinced Appa, and our lovely Aunt Jiwoo has convinced Mr Jeon too. Oh you both are so silly, hiding a precious thing like this from us.”

Wonwoo and you glare at each other. You realise there’s no point in explaining things to these people sitting in front of you. If they’ve reached the point where your sister is calling Wonwoo’s mother as aunt, then they must have discussed this extensively before calling you two to this lunch. An ambush, that’s what this is, you think in despair.

“So what we’re saying is, instead of keeping it hidden like this, why don’t the two of you get married? Wonwoo-ah? You’re turning thirty next year, aren’t you? I want to see my grandchildren too,” Mrs Jeon says, and everything falls in place. This is blackmail. Your mother’s been asking you to get married ever since you took over the company, claiming that having a man at your side would help your life be perfect and free of any troubles, and even forcing you on some arranged dates. Wonwoo must be going through the same kind of thing, with him being three years older to you also. It fixes the nail in the coffin, and you stand up from your seat.

“That’s not happening. Mrs Jeon, Mr Jeon, Wonbin-ah, I’m sorry if this disappoints you, and the same goes for my family too. Wonwoo and I are grown adults. What we do is none of your business.”

“But if you are dating, what’s the issue with getting married? And from what I hear, it’s not even a recent fling. All this has been going on for a year now!” Your mother cries out loudly. Although you’re sitting in a secluded corner, the restaurant isn’t quite empty.

“We’re not… dating. That’s what we’ve been trying to tell you all along.”

“Well, then are you guys enemies having movie sleepovers?” your sister adds, and it’s too annoying. “And why did you come over in Wonwoo’s car?” How the fuck? But then you realise, nothing is beyond these women. They may be keeping tabs on your and his car GPS for all you know.

Wonwoo stands up, looming over your figure. “That’s quite enough. Like Y/N said, what we do is not your business. Thank you for your concern, and enjoy your meal. Eomma, since you’ve taken access to my credit card already, might as well use it to treat yourselves with this meal.” He steps out of the chair, and walks over to where you’re standing. He swiftly grabs your wrist, and pulls you away, “Let’s go. This is a waste of time.” And just like that, the two of you walk away.

Six days later, a wedding invite stands ready in front of you, held out in Jisung’s pale hands. “Does it look good, Ma’am? I’ll send it for printing then.”

You sigh, and nod your yes.

part 2 is now out!

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vourequat · 1 month

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First was to love you, second was to fuck the shit out of you.

WARNING: Fem!reader, toxic relationship, short NSFW longer angst/fluff, implied murder, blood, cunnilingus, knife play

3rd part of my birthday special, I know I didn't post yesterday so I'll be posting two fanfics tomorrow if I can. I'm not feeling good, chat 😞

You couldn't say that your relationship with the Knave was as smooth as her operations that go under the nose of the Oratrice, it never was and might never will be.

At first, she was just nonchalant but very loving and sweet to you until one time she saw you conversing with someone else and that seemed to tick her off and made her switch from the Peruere that you loved to the Arlecchino that you feared.

What were you to expect from the child of a Fatui that killed her own mother?

"I'm a very jealous woman, you know that." She said as she stood up from her desk.

You scoffed, "And me talking to someone else ticked you off?" You snapped back.

She stopped from her tracks, the wind going still as she slowly turned around to see you. Her eyes meeting yours as she telepathically told you to stop pushing her.

"Yes—"

"You murdered someone, Peruere!" You reasoned out, trying to pull out her logical side.

"I am aware."

You sighed, rubbing your temples in frustration on trying to make this woman rethink her decisions and actions. Ever since she decided to make the two of you official, she always resorted to violence when it came to your safety but she was going out of line this time.

She then approached you, "I'm sorry, Mon cher... let me make it up to you" Her blackened hands made their way to your waist and to the ties of your dress, tugging on them slightly.

You tried to push her away but she was much stronger than you were, she lifted you up so suddenly and placed you down on her desk before tearing off your corset.

"Let me show you how sorry I am..."

You couldn't count how much you've come on her tongue, it was pure bliss as she kept working on your pussy like it was her very last meal. Though you could remember how she made you try to shoo away the children as they knocked and asked for their father while she was attacking your clit with passion.

You kept pushing her head away from you but she would not budge a single inch, it seems that this has agitated her as she stopped eating you alive and looked up at you with those X mark pupils of her before she stood up to look down at you.

A lump of saliva gathered at your throat as you watched her lips and chin glisten from your juices and the way that she wiped it off, slowly she leaned in closer to you, at first you thought that it was to hug you but then you felt a sharp and cold object run from the the nape of your neck towards the section where your back and ass meets.

"This time... I'll mark you to show everyone who you belong to... this time I won't hold back."

And just like that, you were turned onto your back with her hand pushing down on you. You felt her kiss along your spine before you felt the dagger that she held in her hands and carved her name all over your back, leaning down to lick up the blood that trickled off the shallow wounds.

You shivered as you felt her breath hit the open wounds she had put on you, this was pure torture but the pain seemed to fade into nothing but pleasure as you felt her rub at your clit once more before plunging the blunt handle of the dagger into you and kept thrusting it in until you were shaking.

Pulling out the dagger, she cupped your face with one hand to make sure you were watching as she sucked off your juices from the dagger's handle.

"When I was a child I never believed in the archons that plagued these lands... but by mercy, I gave them my devotion when they handed me to you."

You were now in the bathtub with her, the warm water engulfing the two of you as she laid your back on hers.

The wounds had long healed from being too shallow and not enough to cause you any further pain, however, Arlecchino seemed to get more relaxed as she kissed and licked at your neck whilst she massaged your thighs.

Her kisses trailed up and then she breathed into your ear before she spoke, "My whole existence is flawed and wretched... but you my dear... you make me get closer to the archons, you make me want to repent for all my sins just to be enough for you..."

You began to chuckle, laying your head onto her shoulders as you held onto her hands.

"You should really stop having sex with me just to take my mind off what you've done..." You spoke up, now stern and strict.

"Don't worry, his disappearance won't be linked to any of us." Before you could even speak up, you could hear the children speak from outside the door once more.

"Father, I had a nightmare..."

You laughed as the woman sighed.

"Your kids need you... daddy."

She gave you a warning glare before lifting herself out of the tub to dry herself off and cover her body with a bath robe, before she left however she did not miss to give you a quick kiss before leaning down back again.

"I'll make sure you'll be screaming that later... we're not done yet, I know I'm still not forgiven."

A/N: Do y'all think Arle likes being called daddy?

Anyways, I've been feeling bad these past few days due to the heat. I don't know if I'm just being dramatic but heat exhaustion is real gang, my head hurts all the time and I am just so irritable and I even got a nose bleed just earlier.

(Real, we kiss passionately when no one is looking)

#genshin impact #genshin impact fanfic #genshin fanfic #genshin imagines #genshin arlecchino #arlecchino #arleccino genshin #arlecchino x reader #dark romance #send asks #i love women #i support womens rights and womens wrongs

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pin-k-ink · 1 month

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eventide // tsukishima kei

tw ⇢ dub-con, emotional manipulation, toxic/unhealthy relationship, borderline possessive kei, minor age gap (reader is 5 years older), sexual tension, angst, pining, akiteru x reader if you squint, fingering, unprotected sex, dry humping, begging, obsession, tsukki is kinda pervy

wc ⇢ 19k 💀

a/n: i did that thing again where i don’t know how to end a fic

Tsukishima was in hell. Every fiber of his being burned with an agonizing combination of desire and torment as your presence infiltrated his senses. The sweet, subtle fragrance of your perfume was a cruel tease, inflaming him while reminding him you belonged to someone else. His brother's easy laughter at some witticism you'd uttered grated in Tsukishima's ears like nails on a chalkboard.

He watched, jaw clenched, as you playfully swatted Akiteru's arm, bodies casually invading each other's space with a comfortable intimacy Tsukishima could only fantasize about. Your sparkling eyes crinkled at the corners when you giggled at his brother's reply, full lips stretched in an effortless smile that Tsukishima longed to taste.

Forcing his gaze away from the plump curves of your mouth, he let his eyes brazenly rake over the rest of your figure. The thin cotton of your shirt sculpted to the valleys and hills of your form, clinging in a way that made Tsukishima's throat go dry. He imagined peeling it off you slowly, calloused fingers tracing patterns on the bare skin underneath as you arched shamelessly into his touch.

A bead of sweat trickled down the side of Tsukishima's neck. He shifted, pressing his thighs together as arousal stirred low in his abdomen. Silently, he cursed his brother's obliviousness to the temptation posed by your presence. Akiteru was a fool, taking your closeness for granted when any sane man would endeavor to thoroughly map every luscious inch of you with his hands and mouth.

"You okay over there, Kei?" Your lilting voice sliced through his lascivious haze. Tsukishima's eyes snapped up to meet your concerned gaze, heart pounding. Heat flooded his cheeks at being caught staring so brazenly. Recovering quickly, he mustered his most disdainful sneer.

"I'm fine. Though this room reeks of desperation..." He let the insult hang heavy in the air between you.

You blinked at him owlishly for a moment before rolling your eyes in exasperation. "Wow, as charming as ever I see," you drawled sarcastically.

Tsukishima's mouth curved into a smirk at having successfully riled you. He vastly preferred this - the playful back-and-forth barbs, the simmering undercurrent of antagonism - to the torturous visions of you wrapped around his brother. At least when you were riled up at him, those molten eyes were focused solely on Tsukishima.

"Don't dish it out if you can't take it," he goaded, taking petty satisfaction in the way your nostrils flared. You opened your mouth - likely to unleash a biting retort - but Akiteru spoke first.

"Come on you two, can we not do this today?" His brother sighed long-sufferingly. "It's bad enough having to deal with Kei's prickly 'holier-than-thou' attitude regularly."

A muscle in Tsukishima's jaw ticked as your gaze flickered briefly back to Akiteru. The unspoken bond between the two of you ignited a searing flare of jealousy in his gut. How easy it would be for Akiteru to simply reach out and pull you against him, burying his face into the inviting valley of your breasts as you giggled and playfully swatted him away...

The visions tormenting Tsukishima now were memories from long ago when he was just a child - back when you were still a frequent, dazzlingly bright fixture in the Tsukishima household. Back when his crush was new, freshly blossoming with the first tingling tendrils of innocent infatuation.

"Neeee-san!" The childish nickname you'd allowed only Tsukishima to use tumbled eagerly from his lips. At 6 years old, you were his biggest hero, the shining center of his universe.

You turned with a sunny smile, kneeling down to his level as he bounded up to you. "Well if it isn't my favorite little monster!" You reached out to ruffle his tousled blonde hair affectionately.

Tsukishima felt his face heat up at the casual contact and endearment, his child-self not yet able to tamp down the wide, unabashed grin of pure joy that broke across his features. Up close, your beauty was staggering - enough to leave him at a loss for words.

"Guess what, nee-san? I scored a whole bunch of points in volleyball practice today!" His small hands cupped together proudly as if cradling something precious.

"That's amazing, Kei!" You reached out to tousle his hair again, shining with genuine pride. The simple praise and affection in your radiant smile made his little heart swell.

"Soon I'll be so good that I can be on the same team as Aki-nii!" He proclaimed boldly. The thought of getting to play on the court alongside you and his older brother filled him with giddy excitement.

Your grin twitched ever so slightly. "I-I can't wait to see that! You'll have to show me some of your awesome moves."

"Kei, stop hogging nee-chan's to yourself." The familiar teasing lilt of Akiteru's voice cut through your moment. Tsukishima's smile dimmed as his older brother sauntered over, all lean muscle and easy confidence even at 11 years old.

You straightened up, attention diverted as Akiteru draped a casual arm around your shoulders. A flare of irrational irritation and something darker - something Tsukishima didn't yet have the emotional vocabulary for - flickered in the young boy's chest as you leaned comfortably into the familiar half-embrace.

In that moment, Akiteru's height, his striking looks, the similarities you two shared down to the very expression on your faces - it all became suddenly, viscerally apparent to Tsukishima's childish perceptions. A vise constricted in his small ribcage as he watched his brother playfully tug on one of your pigtails, laughing at some shared joke while you made a face of mock indignation.

It was like watching the formation of a black hole, inexorably drawing you into its singularity while slowly, agonizingly severing the gravitational tethers that once bound you to Tsukishima's world. The younger brother who had heretofore basked in the warmth of your attentions was now forgotten, cast into the cold outer orbit of your presence.

Akiteru was the sun in your universe now. And deep in the recesses of Tsukishima's fragile psyche, something cracked and began bleeding a venomous darkness into his once-bright worldview.

Over the years, as innocence shed away and Tsukishima's mind became increasingly shrouded in cynicism, that inky blight took root and flourished. What had started as a pure, sunny admiration for his radiant "nee-san" contorted into an obsession - one that had him drinking in every detail of your features, hungrily cataloging them to memory.

The way your brows knit adorably when you frowned at Akiteru. The hint of pink tongue peeking through parted lips as you concentrated with laser-focus during your studies. The soft curves of your thighs flexing as you'd settle next to him on the couch.

Each seemingly innocuous observation was seared into Tsukishima's consciousness, hoarded and endlessly examined in his quieter moments like a dragon with its plundered treasures. You became a fixation - the sole point of equilibrium in his turbulent sea of adolescent turmoil and fragile self-worth.

And with that fixation came the bitter, curdling stain of jealousy and resentment toward his brother whenever Akiteru was the recipient of your unguarded grins, your teasing quips, your casual touches. It should have been Tsukishima on the receiving end of that affection, those tantalizing glimpses into who you truly were behind the facade of pure sunshine.

So he pushed you away, reliable as the turning of the seasons. Each friendly overture, every attempt to draw the younger Tsukishima into your invigorating orbit, was rebuffed with chalky disdain and steadily more acidic barbs. If he couldn't possess the closeness he craved, could not make you solely his, then he would take petty satisfaction in making your interactions as antagonistic and unpleasant as possible.

At least that way, when you inevitably drifted out of their lives for good as you and Akiteru grew up and moved on, the final shreds of Tsukishima's attachment to you would be severed cleanly. His descent into hell would be complete.

By the time Tsukishima was in high school, his once bright and shiny infatuation had fully warped into something darker, grittier - a compulsion that simmered insidiously beneath his carefully crafted ennui.

You still came around occasionally, social spheres intertwined through your unshakable bond with Akiteru. But Tsukishima was no longer the eager, energetic child who fawned over your presence. At 16, he regarded you through lowered lashes and a veil of shuttered disinterest, shoulders hunched in apparent nonchalance.

But beneath that indifferent veneer, he studied you with a new, ravenous sort of hunger. He drank in the gentle swell of your breasts straining against cotton shirts, eyes tracing the feminine flare of your hips before snapping away guiltily. A bead of sweat rolled down the back of his neck as inappropriate thoughts crept incessantly into the shadowy recesses of his mind.

More than anything, Tsukishima longed to provoke a reaction from you any way he could - to thoroughly shatter that serene, put-together front and expose the rawer facets of your spirit that Akiteru was firmly embedded in. He discovered a guilty sort of gratification in needling you, in watching your brows pinch and those full lips purse in displeasure.

"How's the view from that ivory tower, Princess?" The mocking jeer dripped from Tsukishima's lips as he slouched further into the couch cushions. You'd let yourself into the Tsukishima residence as usual, breezing through with a familiar comfort that made something twist viciously in Tsukishima's gut.

You paused in the entryway, shooting him an arch look. "Delightful, as always, thanks for asking. No snide remarks from the misanthropic peanut gallery today?" Your tone was laced with faux sweetness.

Tsukishima scoffed loudly. "That's just the dry wit you've come to despise me for." He knew he should quit while he was ahead, but something diabolical unfurled in his chest at the prospect of getting a genuine rise out of you.

"Though I can't exactly blame you for feeling pissy. It must be rough being a broke college student indebted to my family's charity when Aki-nii takes pity and lets you crash here..."

He trailed off meaningfully, lips curling into a derisive sneer as he took petty delight in the flash of humiliation and anger that flickered across your features. Your cheeks colored furiously, but Tsukishima's sharpened senses zeroed in on the slight part of your lips, the rise and fall of your chest as you struggled to control your breathing.

"You arrogant little shit," you spat, any attempt at civility abandoned. "Is this something you get off on? Tearing people down to make yourself feel better about what a pathetic excuse for a human being you are?"

Inwardly, Tsukishima preened at having successfully riled you up. Your scorching anger was so much better than the nonchalant cordiality that came from simply coexisting on the periphery of Akiteru's inner circle. This ire, this passion - it meant you saw him, truly saw the young man he'd become instead of the pesky kid brother to be dismissed.

But what really captivated Tsukishima was the tantalizing flush riding high on your cheekbones, the slightly disheveled state of your hair where you'd no doubt run agitated fingers through it. He wanted to thoroughly dismantle your poise, to unravel you completely and revel in the ravished aftermath.

"Maybe a little," he murmured huskily, molten eyes roving over the swell of your lips and the tempting stretch of your shirt across your chest. "If you're offering something more...stimulating."

The shock and confused hurt that flickered across your features struck Tsukishima like a physical blow, momentarily robbing the breath from his lungs. This wasn't what he'd wanted - to genuinely wound you. He tamped down the nauseated guilt rapidly unfurling in his gut, shoving it into a distant recess of his mind.

This was for the best, he told himself sternly. To wrench himself free of this sick obsession that seemed to deepen and fester with each passing year. If he burned all his bridges, salted the earth of your relationship until only bitter ruin remained, maybe then he could escape the gravitic pull of his compulsion.

But as you whirled on your heel, storming from the Tsukishima household with purposeful strides, a dim part of him knew the truth. There would be no deliverance, no peace from this hell of his own making. He was utterly, inescapably possessed by his fixation on you.

Tsukishima's fists clenched impotently as he watched you go, dark appetite roiling like the churning of a brewing storm barely contained beneath his skin.

In the weeks and months that followed, a new dynamic took shape between you and Tsukishima - one charged with antagonistic tension, rife with unspoken challenge. Like ill-fated celestial bodies, your respective orbits seemed to contract inexorably despite both parties' attempts at maintaining distance.

You still frequented the Tsukishima household with familiar ease, though your interactions with the youngest brother were now clipped and edged with palpable hostility. Tsukishima met you thrust for thrust, deflecting your biting remarks with indolent indifference or firing back with surgical precision to lacerate your composure.

But beneath his sardonic visage, an incessant hunger blazed. He found his gaze lingering on the plush curves of your mouth as you spoke, trailing down the delicious swell of your breasts in quiet moments when you were distracted. Tsukishima's fingers twitched with the phantom urge to reach out and map the lines of your body, to discover whether your skin was truly as soft as it looked.

The tension built to a crescendo one sweltering summer evening. You and Akiteru were lounging in the backyard, lingering over the last dredges of grilled food and chilled beverages. Tsukishima stepped outside, shirtless and barefoot after an ill-timed volleyball practice.

His gaze snagged immediately on the smooth expanse of your bare legs, mercilessly exposed by the tiny athletic shorts you wore. The dusky twilight gloom seemed to sharpen your features into an intoxicating contrast of light and shadow - the pert tip of your nose, those pillowy lips parted on a laugh at something Akiteru murmured.

You caught sight of Tsukishima loitering in the doorway like a silent wraith, amusement morphing into a slight frown. "Don't you have somewhere else to be, beanpole?" The mild insult lacked any genuine venom.

Tsukishima shrugged one loose shoulder lazily. "What, and miss the chance to bask in your radiant presence?" His tone dripped with saccharine insincerity.

You scoffed loudly, a few loose tendrils of hair fluttering against your neck as you shook your head. The motion drew Tsukishima's heated stare like a magnet. He wanted to skim his fingers over that rapidly fluttering pulse point, to discover whether your heart raced with the same forbidden thrill as his own.

"Why don't you give it a rest already?" You sighed in exasperation. "This whole act of yours is exhausting. What will it take for you to stop being such a massive jackass all the time?"

"Hmm maybe if you asked nicely..." Tsukishima purred, taking a few slow, predatory steps closer until he loomed over your seated form. "And demonstrated proper motivation."

The suggestive weight of his words hung thickly in the humid air between you, viscous and suffocating. Tsukishima watched hungrily as your pupils blew wide, lips parting in a silent, shocked inhale. Satisfaction and something darker - something ravenous and scorching - licked through his veins like wildfire.

He drank in the sight of your chest rising and falling shallowly, the pretty flush riding high on your cheekbones while you struggled to mask your rattled reaction behind weak derision.

"Wow, so this is what you've been reduced to? Pathetic."

The scathing assessment ought to have doused the banked embers of Tsukishima's arousal. But he found he craved more - not your disgust, but the visceral emotion that roiled beneath. The sight of you thoroughly unraveled, stripped of your endless veneer of affable composure.

"Nothing pathetic about being honest with my...desires." His voice dropped to a low, gravelly purr. You sucked in a sharp breath when he abruptly crouched next to you, close enough for his warmth to bleed onto your arm.

Tsukishima's eyes roamed insolently over the delicate hollow of your throat, the gentle swell of cleavage peeking from your loose neckline. So close now, he could make out the fluttering pulse beneath your jaw, the subtle outline of your nipples through the thin fabric.

All he had to do was reach out, boldly bridge that searing distance between you, and -

"Kei! That's enough, man." Akiteru's hand landed heavily on Tsukishima's shoulder, shattering the trance. Tsukishima's gaze snapped up to find his brother regarding him with a bemused sort of confusion and concern. You sat beside them, rooted in place and wide-eyed with mingled disbelief and trepidation.

With an inward snarl, Tsukishima shrugged off his brother's grip and straightened to his full height. Outwardly, his expression remained one of languid, hooded disinterest. But inside, a tumultuous storm of thwarted desire, petulant frustration and clawing obsession swirled like a maelstrom preparing to burst its confines.

A muscle in his jaw ticked while he regarded you imperiously. You visibly swallowed under the weight of his stare, hands twisting in your lap. Tsukishima committed every minute detail of your ruffled appearance to scorching memory before spinning on his heel and stalking away without a word.

His skin felt too tight, overhot, as if branding itself permanently with the impression of this moment - of how badly he had shattered the fragile bounds of propriety in his reckless pursuit of your undoing. There would be no coming back from this, no soothing balm of remedied boundaries or reassurances of indifference.

Tsukishima had allowed the darkness to breach its subterranean chambers and spill slobberingly into the piercing light of day. And some primal, depraved part of himself delighted in it.

In the crucible of late adolescence, any restraint Tsukishima once possessed over his baser urges and obtrusive thoughts withered away. Your presence had become an obsession unfurled, a compulsion to be sated at all costs - dignity and propriety be damned.

He sought you out like a man possessed, intentionally insinuating himself into situations where your paths would cross no matter how tenuous the pretext. Tsukishima drank in every searing detail of your features with ravenous focus, cataloging each fitful breath and bitten-off gasp whenever his words or proximity provoked a reaction.

Your relationships with Akiteru strained under the weight of Tsukishima's unchecked antagonism. Undaunted, he would needle you relentlessly, slinging barbs and salacious insinuations with the cold precision of a sniper's rifle until your composure splintered.

The way your nostrils flared when you struggled to reign in your temper, or the rapid flutter of your pulse hammering beneath the delicate hollow of your throat - each detail was seared into Tsukishima's consciousness and savored in the quiet, sweltering moments when he was alone.

At eighteen, the full flush of adulthood brought with it a new,remorseless intensity to Tsukishima's unhealthy fixation. No longer content to merely bask in your flustered unraveling, he ached to systematically dismantle every aspect of your self-restraint until you were left debauched and keening against him, rational mind whited out by unbearable pleasure.

One evening, you'd come over to collect some belongings in preparation for moving out. Tsukishima emerged from the stifling humidity of his bedroom, towel slung low on his lean hips, to find you rummaging through a box of miscellany.

His calloused fingers clenched spasmodically at his sides as you bent at the waist, shapely backside straining against form-fitting denim as you rifled through the clutter. Tsukishima's mouth went dry as cotton, eyes tracing the gentle inward curve of your spine before snapping instinctively to the generous swell of your ass.

An inarticulate grunt forced its way past his frozen lips before he could think better of it. You jolted upright, whirling to face him with wide, startled eyes and parted lips. Dimly, Tsukishima registered the flush that creeped over your cheekbones as you processed his state of undress, gaze skating unsubtly over the sculpted planes of his abdomen before guiltily averting.

"Uh, didn't realize you were...around," you mumbled, suddenly flustered in a way he found utterly captivating. Tsukishima's blood thrummed with smoldering satisfaction at having thrown you off-balance so thoroughly with just his physical presence.

His signature smirk was firmly back in place as he oh-so-casually padded closer, movements loose and predatory. "My apologies, I'll be sure to send the butler with my arrival announcements next time."

You scowled at the mocking jibe, seeming to regain some semblance of equilibrium...until Tsukishima's fingertips ghosted over the dip of your waist in passing. A harsh, shuddering inhale stuttered through your lips at the fleeting contact, gaze snapping up to lock with his. The weight of his heavy-lidded stare, dark and inscrutable, made you visibly swallow.

"S-stop looking at me like that, you creep," you stammered, curling inward defensively as you clutched the forgotten box to your midriff.

Tsukishima hummed, a low rumbling purr of a sound as he boldly sidestepped until the solid wall of his chest grazed your shoulder. You sucked in a sharp breath, freezing in place as he leaned down until his mouth was a hairsbreadth from your ear. He could smell the clean, faintly floral scent of your shampoo, feel the heated puff of your unsteady breathing fanning over his collarbones.

"Looking at you how, exactly?" Tsukishima murmured, allowing a teasing lilt to bleed into each velvet syllable. He turned his head a fraction, letting his lips brush ever-so-lightly against the curved shell of your ear as he spoke. Gratification sang through his blood as you shivered involuntarily against him.

"Like the pathetic, desperate thing you are, gawking at me like a piece of meat," you shot back in a threadbare tone that lacked any genuine conviction.

A rasping chuckle rattled from Tsukishima's chest in response. With agonizing slowness, he shifted until his nose skimmed over the rapid pulse fluttering just beneath your jaw - until his lips hovered a scant hairsbreadth from yours, so close he could feel your shallow, trembling exhalations ghosting over them.

"And what if I was?" he breathed, voice pitched low enough to rasp like gravel in his throat. "What if I told you how badly I want to - "

You cut him off with a strangled noise, abruptly shoving him away with an uncoordinated flail of limbs and putting a few feet of distance between you. Your expression twisted into one of mingled outrage and bewilderment.

"What the hell is wrong with you, Kei!?" You hissed acidicly, clutching the forgotten box closer like a shield as you struggled to recapture an authoritative tone. "Was this some kind of twisted game to you? Some fucked up power play to make me uncomfortable?"

Tsukishima simply stared back impassively, expression a carefully curated mask of nonchalant indifference despite the molten churn of need and thwarted yearning simmering like a banked fire in his veins. His tongue traced the plush swell of his lower lip slowly, greedily snagging on the taste of your floral shampoo still clinging to his senses.

With steady, unhurried movements, he thumbed the towel slung low on his hips, drawing your gaze like a magnet to the subtle shift of musculature in his lower abdomen. Your breath audibly hitched, gaze darkening with a mixture of reproach and that achingly familiar spark of restrained want.

"Does acting coy and clueless really work for anyone?" He rumbled at last, deep timbre threaded with enough blatant suggestion to stain the air between you a virulent shade of crimson. "I don't play games... When I say I want something, I pursue it with a singular, ruthless focus."

He held your turbulent gaze steadily, letting the full weight of his obsession - his absolute compulsion towards you - resonate in the pulsing silence. Your shuddering inhale echoed like a thunderclap before you seemed to rally some semblance of inner fortitude.

"You...you're disgusting," you rasped, retreating a few more stumbling paces towards the door. But the revulsion in your tone felt brittle, a flimsy construct struggling against the rip tide of molten tension steadily encroaching like a noxious vapor.

Tsukishima remained rooted, expression one of glacial detachment as he regarded you steadily. Something like pain flickered across your features before being swiftly smothered behind a mask of bland affront. With a final, ricocheting glance of...something Tsukishima couldn't decipher, you whirled on your heel and fled.

Only once the thud of the front door slamming echoed through the tense stillness did the younger Tsukishima exhale a low, ragged breath. His fingers unclenched from their white-knuckled grip on the towel as a menagerie of roiling emotion - bitter frustration, banked exhilaration, the lingering echoes of soul-searing obsession - seeped into the arid recesses of his psyche.

No matter how explosive the collision when your respective orbits intersected, Tsukishima knew he was caught in the inexorable pull of your gravity well. It was only a matter of time before he went spinning, wildly out of control, and dragged you down with him into the pitch black singularity of his fixation.

The weeks and months after your heated encounter were punctuated by stretches of strained silence, broken only by explosive bouts of argument and bitter recrimination that echoed through the Tsukishima household.

You still came around with decreasing frequency, but the casual warmth and easy rapport between you and Akiteru steadily decompressed into stiff, hollowed-out pantomimes of that former intimacy. Akiteru's brow furrowed in terse confusion whenever you and Tsukishima would inevitably gravitate towards each other, only for the atmosphere to buckle and splinter beneath the weight of barbed words and cutting rejoinders.

At the heart of the maelstrom, Tsukishima nursed his resentment and festering want like a raw, throbbing wound - poking and prodding at it in quiet moments until the searing flare of emotion was all he could comprehend. Nothing seemed to slake his hunger; no scalding confrontation or seething silence adequately diluted the sheer, galling compulsion he felt towards you.

It all came cindering down one evening when you appeared unexpectedly on the Tsukishima's doorstep looking resigned and conflicted. Tsukishima answered the door, trademark scowl firmly in place despite the electric frisson of awareness that shot through him upon finding you framed in the entryway.

"Not that I'm trying to impede on your busy schedule of antagonizing literally everyone around you, but I need to talk to Akiteru," you stated in a flat tone devoid of any real bite.

Tsukishima arched a querulous brow in response, gaze skimming insolently over you in a silent assessment. Whatever he found in your bearing must have piqued his interest, because his lips curved into a derisive smirk as he leaned casually against the door frame.

"He's out running some errands with mom earlier. But please, feel free to regale me with whatever trite nonsense is on your mind. I'll be sure to pass along the most banal details to Aki later."

A fractured exhale that might have been a mirthless chuckle ghosted through your lips at his mocking tone. "How gracious of you," you countered in clipped fashion before continuing in a lower register. "Actually, it might be better to talk to you first."

With that opening gambit, you brushed past Tsukishima into the entranceway, shoving down the fissures of unease that bloomed as his intense stare followed your clipped movements. Something about the air of grim resolution you carried set his nerves jangling faintly, a harbinger of upheaval to come.

You turned to face Tsukishima fully once inside, squaring your shoulders as if bracing for impact. He regarded you with poorly veiled curiosity despite the mask of sardonic aloofness he attempted to maintain.

"Well?" He prompted after a protracted moment of tense silence. "Do go on and enlighten me with whatever banalities have you seeking an audience."

You worried your lower lip for a beat, gaze skittering away from the weight of his stare before marshaling your resolve with a fortifying breath. When you spoke, the words emerged in a tumultuous rush.

"I'm leaving soon. Transferring to a university across the country for my Master's program." Your fingers twisted together fretfully. "Which means I won't be around much anymore to...whatever this is between us."

Tsukishima felt his breath stall in his chest as the implications galvanized in his mind. Leaving. Putting an entire continent's distance between your respective orbits. The prospect prompted a visceral spike of simultaneous relief and soul-rending loss that curdled like overspent adrenaline in his veins.

Perhaps sensing his unraveling composure, you barreled forward in a preemptive strike. "Look, I'm not naive enough to pretend there isn't...tension, or whatever you want to call it, between us. But it's gotten out of hand, Kei. It's unhealthy." You exhaled a shaky breath, expression broadcasting your internal discord. "I think some permanent distance might be what we both need to finally move past...this."

Your final syllables hung heavily between you, weighted with years of fraught history and the specter of unvoiced emotion. Tsukishima groped inwardly for some lifeline or anchoring retort, but his usually glib tongue felt expansively mired. For once, his vaunted intellect offered no scorching rebuttals or snide deflections - only a viscous, thunderous silence ringing with unspoken implication.

And in that sweeping void, the truth he'd spent the better half of a decade submerging beneath scathing petulance and obsessive fixation finally ruptured to the surface in a scalding torrent.

"You think I want this?" His voice emerged in a hoarse snarl edged with raw desperation. You started back half a step at the sheer venom saturating his tone, lips parting on an unvoiced query. But Tsukishima pressed forward inexorably.

"This maddening, inescapable compulsion that's haunted me since I was just a stupid kid? You honestly believe I asked for this relentless torment, this pathetic obsession that swallows every other facet of who I am?"

He was dimly aware of his harsh breathing punctuating each bitten-off phrase, of the erratic pulsing of his heartbeat like bellows stoking banked embers into a conflagration. But the self-disgust, the seething bitterness and all-consuming want roared to the forefront with cataclysmic force as he at last locked eyes with you fully.

"I didn't choose to become consumed by you!" He rasped, voice descending to a guttural rasp that seemed to reverberate through the scorched air between you. "To have every petty interaction, every insignificant encounter burned into my consciousness from the moment you seared your way into my existence!"

You gaped at him, lips shaping soundless words as turmoil washed across your features - quickly subsumed beneath burgeoning waves of pity and dawning comprehension. The aborted syllables shriveled on your tongue as he advanced a step, then another, until the static charge of simmering tension crackled like lightning just before the strike.

Your breath left you in a shuddering exhale as he towered over you, close enough now that the tangled knot of your respective scents - sweat and clean soap and the powdery hint of detergent - coalesced into an intoxicating amalgam. Close enough to make out the minute tremors wracking your frame as adrenaline flooded both your systems.

"You think I wanted this?" Tsukishima breathed again, voice fracturing on the lash as remorse and self-loathing parted like a rent veil to fully expose the caustic truth blistering through his veins. "To dissect and crave every infinitesimal part of you until the hunger gnawed like pestilence through my skin?"

In the slanted beams of dying sunshine filtering through the window, your complexion looked sallow and drawn - a sickly grey pallor that only threw the high sweep of your cheekbones and the plump bow of your lips into sharper relief. Gooseflesh rippled over the exposed canvas of your forearms as you stared back at Tsukishima, all bravado and derision bled dry as the weight of comprehension finally settled fully.

In that splintered tableau of anguish and reluctant revelation frozen between you, Tsukishima's entire universe whited out into the jagged fissures of truth he could no longer contain.

He closed the final, harrowing distance in a singular, insistent movement - stopping just shy of collision when you sucked in a panicked breath at his abrupt proximity. His chest rasped against yours with each frantic inhale as you pinned him with a look of pure, visceral trepidation.

But Tsukishima was beyond caring as realization cleaved through his consciousness like a ruinous storm finally breaking. For once, he eschewed any artifice of composure in favor of allowing the distillation of his absolute fixation to bleed freely into the roiling heat between your bodies.

"I don't want this," he reiterated, keen gaze burning paths over the rapid flutter of your pulse hammering beneath your jaw. "But I can no more resist the pull of you than a man can resist the inevitability of his own annihilation."

The words hung like a blasphemous mantra in the hair's breadth of electrified space separating your lips. Tsukishima felt the molten slide of your exhale feathering over the curve of his mouth as his name ghosted out in a sibilant whisper.

"Kei, I - "

Whatever feeble objection you may have offered lodged like shrapnel in your larynx as his hand lifted of its own volition. Calloused fingertips ghosted a blistering path from the graceful column of your throat, over the racing cadence of your pulse point, until coming to rest like a branding iron cupping the vulnerable hinges of your jaw.

You went preternaturally still, body locked in a statue's rigor as every molecule of air ionized between you like the portentous ether before a thermonuclear detonation. Perhaps sensing his fleeting window of opportunity, Tsukishima acted before what little remained of his sanity eroded completely.

In a movement more akin to an eclipse than any earthly burst of momentum, he slanted his mouth over yours - searing and inescapable as the electromagnetic shockwave announcing imminent oblivion. The last vestiges of his restraint and composure finally ruptured with the full-bodied jolt that lanced through him upon that first, cataclysmic point of contact.

This was it - the ruination of everything, the scorched-earth capitulation to his darkest compulsions and obsessive fixation. Years' worth of repressed hunger and bitter self-loathing and unbearable yearning finally sublimating into sheer, harrowing rapture as your lips parted compliantly beneath Tsukishima's insistent coaxing.

He drank in your shuddering gasp like a drowning man gulping blessed oxygen. The tang of salt and desperation mingled on his tongue as he surged deeper, robbed of any coherent thought save the all-encompassing fervor singeing every nerve ending. He mapped the slick, velvety recesses of your mouth with relentless focus for every precious second you allowed him this profane indulgence.

But all too soon, reality came slamming back into sickening clarity as you abruptly, vehemently wrenched yourself free. Pain lanced white-hot through Tsukishima's skull as his lower back impacted the wall in recoil from the force of your shove. He stood hunched and winded from the shock of impact for several disorienting heartbeats before raising his gaze to you.

You shook like a birch sapling in a gale, one hand pressed to your ravaged lips as if to trap the echoes of Tsukishima's rapacious violation against them. Anguish, outrage, confusion - a maelstrom of emotion held sway on your features before congealing into the ravaged mask of someone whose trust had been profoundly broken.

"I have to go," you bit out tremulously past the fingers still branding your mouth. Before Tsukishima could summon any articulation or plea for reprieve, you whirled on your heel and lurched towards the exit.

"Don't..." The feeble utterance strangled out of him, little more than a ghoul's rasp that you either didn't hear or chose to ignore. And then you were gone, the sound of the front door ricocheting shut echoing like the clanging finality of prison doors sealing fatefully behind you.

Tsukishima remained rooted and winded in the aftermath of his unraveling for an interminable stretch - wheezing agonized breaths past the anguished cataract of shredded self-control and remorse. When he finally unfurled from his hunched posture enough to properly look around, it was as if he were perceiving the world through an entirely new cosmological lens.

Where before every surface and familiar trapping of his childhood home had functioned as a mnemonic trigger for past memories of you, a radiant fixture seared into every insignificant crevice, it now produced only the ghostly echoes of that escalating tension finally reaching its terminal singularity.

The looming implosion of their relationship - of that inextricable tether binding him soul-deep to you - had officially commenced. And not through any external force, but by the sheer gravitational lensing produced by his own singularly depraved need to pull you into his orbit no matter the cost.

In that hollowing moment of ruination, Tsukishima's throat constricted around the cloying bite of truth and inevitability. There would be no salvaging this, no prospect of atonement or reconciliation now that the scorched, irradiated husk of his obsession lay in ruinous clarity before him.

You would leave - escape this harrowing gravity well before he could irrevocably drag you down into the depthless, all-consuming singularity of his fixation. And he would remain endlessly, inescapably haunted by the inextricable warp of your absence seared into the fabric of his existence.

Hell, he realized with harrowing finality, was not an external condition to transcend - but an inward, eternal torment wrought by his own hand and irredeemable actions.

a few years later

The rivulets of condensation trickling down the passenger window seemed to coalesce into the murky portent of gathering storm clouds on the horizon as Tsukishima stared unseeingly out at the passing scenery. An inexplicable sense of trepidation took root in the pit of his stomach, blossoming insidiously with each passing kilometer marker.

"You've been uncharacteristically brooding this whole ride," Akiteru's voice broke through the weighted silence, tone edged with faint bemusement. "Everything okay, Kei?"

Tsukishima shifted his gaze impassively to meet his brother's reflected in the glass before allowing it to skate away dismissively. "I'm fine. Just wondering why this desperately needed to happen on such short notice."

A humorless scoff filtered from the driver's seat. "Because you're the one who waited until practically the last minute to find housing for your graduate program starting in a few weeks."

A reasonable response, logically speaking. But Tsukishima's unease stemmed from a deeper wellspring of dread that had plagued him since Akiteru first proposed this impromptu "solution" to his living situation.

"I'm not an idiot, Aki," he groused, unable to completely disguise the petulance that crept into his inflection. "There's got to be more to this than some random person suddenly needing a roommate."

His brother was uncharacteristically silent for a protracted beats before releasing a longsuffering sigh. "Look, I know things have been...complicated, between you two - "

The words sparked like a flint igniting tinder in Tsukishima's psyche. His gaze snapped back to Akiteru, heavy-lidded eyes narrowing imperceptibly as comprehension crystallized with sinking inevitability. Of course it was you. It was always, inextricably you - forever the fixed point around which the most harrowing, inescapable forces in their universe orbited.

"Pull over," he bit out in a deceptively even tone that did nothing to mask the torrent of emotion swiftly cresting within him. His caustic rejoinder clearly took Akiteru by surprise, because his brother's brows pulled together in transparent confusion as they passed beneath the haloed sphere of a streetlamp.

"What? Kei, we're almost - "

"I said pull the fucking car over," Tsukishima repeated with much more heat saturating his words this time. The livid desperation gripping his chest precluded any coherent thought beyond the overwhelming urge to escape the increasingly claustrophobic confines of the vehicle before he succumbed to the panic swiftly metastasizing beneath his sternum.

To his credit, Akiteru must have sensed the urgency undergirding Tsukishima's insistence, because he tersely maneuvered them into the nearest vacant parking lot without further protest. No sooner had the gearshift clunked into park than Tsukishima burst from the car with enough force to make it shudder precariously in his wake.

The brisk night air did little to abate the asphyxiating sense of entrapment and dissonant realization that rolled over him in waves. Tsukishima paced several steps away, calloused fingers digging sharpened grooves into his already disheveled hair as he struggled to articulate the discordant maelstrom swirling through his mind.

"You can't honestly expect me to do this, Aki." He didn't mean for the words to emerge sounding quite so plaintive, tinged with the undercurrents of raw vulnerability he normally kept so rigorously submerged. An image of you, forever etched into Tsukishima's consciousness like a holy relic emblazoned on the backs of his eyelids, loomed in stark relief.

"I know things ended...poorly between you two back then," Akiteru ventured cautiously as he too emerged from the vehicle, lines of consternation creasing his brow. "But it's been years, Kei. You both could probably use some closure, or at least the chance to bury the past like rational ad- "

"Closure?" The syllable detonated from Tsukishima's lips in a strangled scoff edged with raw derision. He whirled to face his brother fully, not caring if the naked anguish he normally kept so ruthlessly restrained bled through now. Distantly, he registered his fingers trembling - an outward manifestation of the destabilizing architecture of his composure crumbling away.

"What part of being fatally obsessed and wanting to fucking ravish someone from the moment you first laid eyes on them screams 'rational adult' to you, Aki?" The words tasted like razors on his tongue in their excoriation, laid bare for the first time without artifice or deflection.

Akiteru's expression slackened with muted shock, lips shaping a soundless 'oh' as realization colored the slates of his comprehension with new, damning clarity. The heavy veil of silence suspended between them carried the portentous finality of a theater hush before the curtain rose on tragedy's climax.

When Akiteru finally mustered the wherewithal to respond, his tone was carefully modulated in the same hushed cadences one might use to coax a wounded animal free of its den. "I didn't...know it went that deep for you, Kei. That it evolved into something so...unhealthy."

Tsukishima shook his head minutely, an economic expenditure of movement that still somehow managed to convey the crushing weight of his despair and resignation. Of course Akiteru wouldn't have guessed at the true, festering depths of his fixation during those turbulent years of adolescence muddled by petulance and barely-leashed antagonism.

Tsukishima had gone to great lengths to camouflage the searing compulsion and unreality, burying it beneath cloaking layers of indifference and hostility. Even once he'd gained enough self-awareness to recognize the insidious obsession eating away at his faculties, he ruthlessly stifled and rationalized it - ruthlessly cauterizing those ragged, furtively vulnerable admissions of soul-deep need and unholy yearning behind rictus masks of disdain.

"Unhealthy doesn't even cover it," he rasped at last, unable to stifle his guttural scoff of mordant incredulity. "What I felt - what I still feel..." The admission emerged in a ragged exhale, abraded by the gravel layered across each vowel. His gaze skated away from Akiteru's stunned regard, instead fixing somewhere in the middle distance as his mind's eye painted the indelible, endlessly revisited portrait of your memory in aching clarity.

"It's like being cursed with an endless, unquenchable thirst," Tsukishima forced himself to continue in a brittle tone stripped of any artifice or evasion. "No matter how much you drink or how temporarily sated you become, your throat just opens up in new cracks and fissures, parched and ravenous as the desert itself."

His brother absorbed the hollowed confession in pronounced, weighty silence. Even in his periphery, Tsukishima noted the faint motions as Akiteru's throat struggled uselessly to formulate a reasonable response to such harrowing unvarnished truth. Finally, a hoarse utterance punctured the crackling stillness stretched taut between them:

"You never told me it was like that for you. That your...feelings were so intense."

The naked concern and regret woven through his brother's voice, like fine threads desperately stitching together the tattered, guttering remains of some newly revealed tragedy, prompted an unexpected stir of bitter derision to buoy Tsukishima's chest.

An acrid, joyless laugh spilled from his lips before he could think better of it, the pique of disparate emotion hardening the consonants until the abrasion rasped like an open wound. "How could I tell anyone?" He threw back, indelicate challenge glinting like shards of deadly silica in his stare. "Can you even begin to imagine confessing to feeling that...wretched hunger for your own brother's best friend?"

Akiteru flinched, the minute compression of his features accompanied by the aborted twitch of his fingers that clearly betrayed the instinctive urge to reach out instinctively - to attempt triage on the gaping disrepair laid bare before him. Tsukishima could practically envision the discordant static of thoughts and impulses rattling chaotically through his brother's psyche, could track the struggle inherent as Akiteru processed the full scope of Tsukishima's torrid, compulsive fixation.

The silence that echoed in the pause yawned between them like the oppressive density of a singularity, heavy with inexorable pull and scorching implication in equal measure. At last, Akiteru seemed to settle on his next overture, drawing forth all his faculties of earnest persuasion and fraternal care as he girded himself to proceed.

"Kei...I don't think I'll ever fully understand the scope or circumstances that created such intensity for you," he began carefully, each word acutely shaped with empathetic weight. "No one can rationalize compulsions like that born of unchecked emotion and...improper attachment pathways in the psyche."

Tsukishima narrowed his eyes against his brother's solemn, imploring stare, suddenly wary of where this speech seemed destined based on the familiar undulating cadences of Akiteru attempting to arbitrate harsh truths. But rather than demur or equivocate, his older brother pressed on unflinchingly.

"But this inability to let go, to find peace or detachment from those unbalanced impulses...it's only going to keep poisoning you, Kei. Destroying you and anyone else who gets caught in the blast radius, over and over in an endless cycle of turmoil."

A hairline crack spiderwebbed across Tsukishima's composure as the implication of his brother's words registered with the ruthless precision of a killing stroke. He felt his jaw flex in minute increments, a ticking chronometercharting the encroaching undertow of emotion threatening to drag him beneath its roiling surface once more.

"Are you suggesting," he began with meticulous slowness, tonnage of rebuke held in tense abeyance, "that I force myself back into her orbit just so I can...what? Overcome this, like some pathetic addict going cold turkey?"

Akiteru exhaled a sound that may have been a mirthless chuckle. "When you put it like that, it sounds-"

"Delusional? Self-destructive, even?" Tsukishima supplied archly, unable to completely mask the caustic edge of anger galvanizing beneath his sternum like a corrosive malignancy. "All I would accomplish is opening those fissures anew, Aki. Awakening that...relentless obsession all over again while offering up her peace of mind as collateral damage on the altar of my depravity."

Despite Tsukishima's raw confession about the depths of his fixation on you, Akiteru remained resolute.

"I hear what you're saying, Kei. Truly, I do," he said, squeezing Tsukishima's shoulder with a heaviness that belied the gravity of his next words. "But avoiding this situation, running from those compulsions...it's only going to leave you trapped forever."

Tsukishima opened his mouth to protest, rebuke already sharpened on his tongue. But Akiteru raised his hand to forestall the objection.

"You need to face this head-on. Confront those feelings, that obsession, in a healthy, controlled way - with me by your side." His brother's gaze burned with fierce conviction. "It's the only path forward to finally finding peace, Kei. You've been in this gravity well of torment for too damn long."

A hollowed pause stretched between them as Akiteru's decree hung suspended - a lifeline and tether all at once. Tsukishima felt it resonate through his very marrow, a tremulous clarion call commodified to the fractured, haunted planes of his psyche.

Finally, after what felt like an interminable, sanity-eroding instant, he managed a tight nod of grim acquiescence.

"Alright," he agreed in a rasp that scorched the tender abraded tissues of his throat. "I'll do it your way, Aki. For now..."

The last two words hovered replete with unspoken menace and conflict yet to come. But Akiteru's brilliant answering smile blazed like a gaseous nebula being kindled to stellar birth, bright with profound gratitude and steadfast determination.

"That's all I can ask, little brother. One step at a time."

The climb up the apartment building's stairs felt interminable, each step weighted with steadily mounting trepidation. Tsukishima couldn't deny the queasy roil of apprehension in his gut as he ascended behind Akiteru towards your door.

It had been years - years spent meticulously constructing psychic barricades and fortifying his defenses against the reckless undertow of obsession that had once threatened to drown him utterly. Yet now, at his brother's cajoling insistence, Tsukishima found himself being towed inexorably back towards the gravitational singularity of his darkest compulsions.

"You don't have to look so grim," Akiteru quipped over his shoulder, either sensing Tsukishima's disquiet or simply attempting to buoy the strained atmosphere. "This is a good thing, remember? A chance to finally exorcise those demons."

Tsukishima responded with a noncommittal grunt, gaze fixed forwards as they reached the landing. He could have gone his entire life without needing to "exorcise" the all-consuming fixation that had warped and contorted his psyche for so long. Better to plaster over those gaping psychic wounds and let them scar in isolation than to recklessly reopen them.

But Akiteru was nothing if not relentlessly optimistic about reshaping Tsukishima's mindset on this. His brother knocked briskly against the nondescript apartment door, then turned to flash an encouraging smile as the muffled sound of footsteps approached from within.

Tsukishima felt his jaw tense automatically as the deadbolt rattled and the door swung inward. And there you were, steadying presence and radiant energy blazing into view as if no time at all had passed.

It was like a surgically precise incision scoring through the meticulously maintained scar tissue encapsulating Tsukishima's obsession - disturbing its deceptive quiescence and allowing the tender, inflamed rawness to bleed freely once more. He drank in every nuance of your familiar features with a desperation bordering on offensive, hungrily cataloging the changes brought by the years apart.

Your eyes widened momentarily upon catching sight of him lingering behind Akiteru. Tsukishima watched as you visibly startled, then attempted to mask the reaction behind a perfunctory smile that didn't quite reach the shuttered wariness lurking in your gaze.

"Akiteru, hi! I wasn't expecting..." You trailed off, throwing a sidelong glance towards Tsukishima that felt like the audible screech of brakes on pavement. An awkward pause suspended between you all before his brother jumped into the breach.

"Yeah, sorry for springing this on you a bit last minute," Akiteru began amiably, using the tone of gentle persuasiveness that came so naturally. "There were some snags with Kei's living arrangements for school. I mentioned your place had an extra room, and, well..."

Tsukishima kept his expression carefully blanked as you pivoted towards him fully, searching his facade for any tells or clues. He could practicably sense the disquiet radiating from you in dense clusters, even diluted through years of separation and whatever attempts at cordiality still persisted between you.

"I see..." You said at length, letting the words unspool like a weighted sounding line dropped into fathomless depths. "Well, I suppose if it's not an imposition..."

"Of course not!" Akiteru assured with forced brightness, clearly sensing the hairline fractures spiderwebbing through the atmosphere. "Kei will be on his best behavior, I promise."

The subtle cant of your brow conveyed skepticism, but you regrouped with remarkable poise by pulling the door open wider in mute invitation.

"I'll just get the spare room ready then," you offered, tempering your tone to a bland neutrality that was somehow even more disquieting.

Tsukishima felt your sidelong stare pierce him like sharpened needlepoints as you brushed past towards the interior of the apartment. Despite his best efforts at emotional insularity, self-preservation screamed at him to hold your assessing gaze - to not flinch or compound the smoldering unease with avoidance.

In that fractional span before you turned away fully, Tsukishima saw it - the wariness, the quicksilver flash of emotions strained behind every pragmatic overture of civility. A panged, phantom echo of their adolescence and the caustic hostility that had ultimately incinerated any remaining bonds between you into smoldering ruin.

He sensed the first fissures splintering across the foundation of his defenses, hairline openings that would steadily widen and coalesce with every subsequent reunion with you. Already, like forgotten muscle memories rousing from dormancy, the compulsions were stirring within Tsukishima, stretching their atrophied wings against the constraints that had rendered them inert.

Akiteru clasped his shoulder as you retreated deeper inside, expression caught in that carefully modulated balance of reassurance and solemnity. A cursory exchange of platitudes untangled between the two brothers, words devoid of real meaning like dandelion gauze catching briefly on a razor's edge before fraying away into obscurity.

Tsukishima only managed a tight nod, the barely perceptible incline of his chin feeling like an already defeated concession and prelude to the coming cataclysm years in the making.

No matter how deep he attempted to bury them, how diligently he maintained those rigorous disciplines of restraint, the gravitational lensing distorting every aspect of his existence remained centered upon the implacable starseed of his fixation.

On you.

The first few weeks of cohabiting with you were...an exercise in calculated restraint for Tsukishima. A precarious dance of aptly sidestepping any situation that might rekindle the long-banked embers of his obsession into roaring new life.

He awoke each morning steeling himself against the temptations that awaited - the casual intimacies of sharing living space that rapidly shed their innocuous veneers to reveal newer, more pernicious labyrinths to navigate. Like the first faint wisps of your shampoo fragrance still clinging to the bathroom at dawn, inviting intrusive recollections of you damp and flushed from the shower's steam...or the maddening distraction of your sleep-tousled form passing by on the way to the kitchen as he tried vainly to focus on dissertation notes.

Small moments, inconsequential in their individual pacing. But they chipped away at Tsukishima's meticulously maintained indifference with every subsequent occurrence, eroding the opaque barriers sheltering him from his compulsions' caustic undertow.

You seemed equally ill-at-ease those first few weeks despite your courteous overtures and model-roommate behavior. An overeager brightness laced your casual greetings, punctuated by halting silences and sidelong glances that implied a persistent reserve layered beneath the arduous task of reacquainting as something adjacent to strangers.

But gradually, as the acrid sting of unfamiliarity dispersed like the lingering vapors in a cleared room, your reflexive masks of propriety and decorum towards one another began unraveling into more familiar patterns of behavior.

The loaded pauses became occupied by increasingly barbed small talk, snips of snide commentary and sardonic rejoinders clearly dredged from the muscle memories of your contentious adolescent rapports. Like wading out into a cristal-clear mountain lake, the vanguards of that old dynamic seemed to buoy you both further into familiar depths...even as the potential for something more turbulent and forceful churned in unknowable abyssal provinces.

The first time you outright argued over something utterly trivial - whether Tsukishima had intentionally swapped out all the TV's inputs just to be contrarian - it was like a sluice gate opening. A slipstream through which the long-sublimated currents of antagonism and pithy one-upmanship that had once characterized your relationship came rushing back in a cathartic torrent.

"- honest to god, it's like you derive sustenance from being an obnoxious ass sometimes," you groused heatedly from the opposite end of the sofa. The furrow of your brow and the slight flush riding high on your cheekbones lent your exasperation an intoxicating sort of vigor. "Is that superiority complex really so insatiable, or are you just doing it to get a rise out of me at this point?"

Tsukishima feigned an air of indolent nonchalance, lips twitching with the effort of containing his smirk as you ranted. Truthfully, he'd gone and rearranged the TV inputs on a whim, knowing it would eventually nettle you into this sort of delicious, heated reaction. He lived for moments like these - when the full force of your temper and spirited indignation were focused solely on him and he could bask, shameless and vampiric, in the raw energy of your presence.

"Hmm, could be a little from Column A, a little from Column B," he replied at length, letting his tone drip with layered provocation like honey from a cone. "I'll leave it up to your wildest fantasies and projections to unpack my motivations, though.."

The loaded suggestion woven through his flippant aside didn't go unnoticed. You scoffed loudly, rolling your eyes in a gesture of feigned disgust that couldn't quite disguise the full-bodied jolt his words produced. "And there's the charm I haven't missed in the slightest..."

Tsukishima's answering smirk took on an undisguised edge of satisfaction at having successfully thrown you off-kilter - even if only by a hair. "If you're hoping for an apology about the inputs, I have to disappoint. Remorse was one of the first things beaten out of me in childhood."

Your lips pressed into a mulish line, no doubt biting back a retort as Tsukishima's vaguely suggestive flirting ratcheted the tension up another notch. Good - let that uncertainty and trepidation creep in until he thoroughly occupied the forefront of your thoughts, just as you had for him all this time.

There was a gratifying sort of power in keeping you baited like this, angling to provoke that endearingly annoyed blustering that allowed Tsukishima to indulge his fixation under the guise of innocuous needling. Even better when you retaliated in kind, matching acidic wit for acidic wit until the furious sparring devolved into decidedly murkier waters.

The first time he upped the ante physically - casually invading your personal space to emphasize a point or provoking distractingly intimate contact as punctuation to a biting remark - you seemed to freeze up like a computer awaiting instructions. Tsukishima took perverse delight in watching your facial features cycle through a litany of conflicting micro-expressions: surprise, uncertainty, mild indignation, and a grudging hint of thrill.

This close, he could see the miniscule dilation of your pupils, the flutter of your pulse hammering beneath the vulnerable hollow of your throat as you battled not to betray the effect his proximity elicited. The warm, intoxicating blend of your natural scent combined with the ephemeral tang of clean sweat and fabric softener made Tsukishima's head swim.

"You're awfully quiet all of a sudden," he practically purred once the loaded tableau stretched on a beat too long. "No comeback about inappropriate boundaries, or overcompensating for a newly realized size deficiency?"

That managed to shake you from your overwrought trance, hackles rising as a full-body flush crept over your features. "You're vile," you spat in a commendable approximation of disgust as you recoiled from the intimate encroachment on your space.

But Tsukishima had seen the fracture lines, caught the stuttered nervous exhale betraying that whisper of atavistic response you fought so hard to suppress. And in that tiny erosion of your defenses, he glimpsed the horizon of new possibilities - an expanding frontier of ways to needle past your limitations and composure until you lay utterly exposed before him.

The simmering undercurrents of tension amplified dramatically in the weeks after that initial thawing of your antagonistic rapport. Each ensuing encounter seemed primed to shatter past mere playful banter and provocative innuendo, splintering into something rawer and electrifyingly unsafe.

Tsukishima leaned harder into the invasive little touches and suggestive asides, each one calculated to unnerve you further and provoke increasingly flustered reactions. Under the guise of sardonic indifference, he would casually ghost his fingertips over the bare nape of your neck while sliding past you in narrow hallways. Or let his hooded gaze linger with maddening emphasis anytime the shifting of your clothing afforded teasing glimpses of skin on display.

You cycled through various strategies to regain equilibrium - deflecting with sarcastic quips, feigning obliviousness, even blunt confrontation. But nothing seemed to deter Tsukishima or raze those escalating shockwaves of tension crackling like atmospheric static in his wake.

He cornered you one evening after you'd spent a long, frustrating day dealing with unruly group project members for one of your seminars. Exhaustion was writ plainly across the tense lines of your shoulders, the slight downturn of your lips as you shrugged out of your jacket and leaned heavily against the wall.

"Long day playing shepherdess to the intellectually insolvent masses?" Tsukishima's voice rolled smooth as velvet from the nearby shadows. You jolted upright with a stifled gasp, clearly not having registered his presence lurking in the dimness of the hallway.

"Fuck, you scared me..." you huffed out a shaky breath, willing your heartrate to descend from its panicked spike as Tsukishima's silhouette peeled away from the shadows with predatory grace.

"My apologies." The words dripped with heavy insincere as he came to lean against the wall a scant few inches away. Even in the low lighting, you could make out the glinting suggestiveness in his heavy-lidded eyes. "I'll be sure to make more noise announcing my skulking presence next time."

You tried to snort out a derisive scoff, to wall up behind a facade of irritation at his insinuations and proximity. But your voice emerged with a telling breathlessness that its own betrayal. "Wouldn't want to mistake you for other, more threatening predators lurking around, I suppose..."

Tsukishima loomed subtly closer, the heated undertones of his natural musk and the clean, flinty notes of his body wash filling the scant space between you. "Careful now," he rumbled lowly in a cadence that ricocheted straight down your spine. "I've been told I can be quite...dangerous when riled."

You swallowed hard, adam's apple bobbing convulsively as your fingers twisted in the fabric of your shirt. "Is that so? Dangerous how, exactly?"

Even in the dimness, you could trace the blatant path of Tsukishima's assessing gaze dropping to your restless fingers. To the subtle flex and release of your throat's musculature as you struggled not to betray the effect his voice and body heat radiating so brazenly had on you.

"Hmm, let's just call it 'volatile' to be on the safe side," he purred at last, drawing fractionally nearer until the proximity blurred the margins between your respective personal spheres. "Volatile enough that toying with it beyond certain limits has...consequences."

Your pulse thundered a rapid staccato against the vulnerable hollow of your throat as the implication settled over you like an intangibly oppressive weight. Edged into the narrow hallway, away from open sightlines, there existed only Tsukishima's radiant, inescapable presence and your rapidly shredding impulse control.

"Is that a threat?" You managed to rasp out at last in a poor mimicry of defiance. His aristocratic features pulled into a slow, dangerous smirk that had your pulse rabbiting anew.

"Just a friendly warning. I'd hate for either of us to get...burned."

The husky promise in his words hung spark-heavy in the charged space separating you. Your chests were nearly grazing with each feverish inhalation, close enough for Tsukishima to detect the staggered pitter-pat of your heartbeat under the sheen of exertion caused by the increasing heat and tension in the hallway.

His gaze locked unwaveringly with yours, relaying the same compulsive hunger searing away every rationalizing fortification in its path. That parallax between the forbidden whims rattling perilously in your respective minds shrinking to an infinitesimal membrane.

All it would take was the slightest breach - one sublimating burst of momentum to rupture that diaphanous film and send you both spinning, irrevocably, into that caustic event horizon of no return. Of surrendering to the inexorable gravities at long last and colliding with all the ruination and ferocious consumption that would entail.

You shifted slightly, the barest incremental adjustment of your balance that caused your thighs to brush ever-so-faintly against Tsukishima's. The contact was ephemeral as a soap bubble's caress...but enough to whiteout his vision with an incandescent flare of hungry provocation. Every nerve ending scoured raw by the suddenelectricity of that inconsequential stimulus.

Your exquisite inhalation shuddered through the infinitesimal margin between you like an orchestrated swell. Tsukishima's focus narrowed inexorably to the subtlest lexicon of reactions rippling across your features - the slight parting of your lips, the minuscule dilation of your pupils as twin mirrors brimming with the same shuddering mixture of curiosity and instinctual warning.

The dam was straining precipitously...here in this dark hallway, away from prying eyes or accountability, nothing remaining but to abandon the final, tattered constraints and give in fully to the smothering, annihilating compulsion singing with celestial rapture through his veins in that instant.

He could end this torturous hunger, slake the parched ache ravening through him for years with the final satiation of union, here and now. Strip away every barrier between you until the truth lay obscenely laid bare—

A door slammed in the distance, auditory shrapnel pulverizing the fragile tension condensed to ruinous density in the hallway. You jolted away from him like repelling magnets, the spell of whatever rapturous gravities had spooled you both towards that event horizon snapping with violent finality.

Tsukishima was left frozen in place, staring at the faint contrail of eddies still dissipating where you'd just occupied the same airspace as him. Molten displeasure curdled in his gut, simultaneously undercut by a parenthetical flicker of relief that neither of you had been the first to tip irrevocably over that precipice.

Not yet, at least. The restless drumbeat of his pulse still hammering with unspent keening to consummate those atavistic, compulsive urges was even clearer than before.

It was only a matter of time before even the most robust remaining safeguards were overcome in the face of such relentless gravities insisting on their conjoining. Tsukishima inhaled a steadying breath, brain already whirring with new strategies to engineer those subsequent pressures and fissures eroding your resistances.

No exit wound or discrete retreat remained to be found. Not when his existence had become this singularly obsessed vigil to bring yours under the sway of its eclipsing gravities once and for all.

The charged frisson of tension only grew more inescapable and stifling with each passing week. Every shared room, corridor, or overlapping routine now seemed to pulse with the same loaded potential - ripe for Tsukishima to manufacture new catalysts in eroding your restraint.

He mapped the contours of your routines and patterns with ritualistic focus, lying in wait like a singular predator isolating the most opportune moments to ambush and provoke reaction. Tsukishima took outrageous gambits to infringe upon your personal space, to lace every innocuous interaction with bristling undercurrents of something darker percolating beneath.

Like the night he prowled into the kitchen as you stood before the stove, idly stirring a simmering pot while swaying subtly to the distant thrum of music filtering in from the living room. You were absorbed in separate headspace, the slight crease between your brows suggesting deep rumination or merely zoning out after a long day.

Which made it all too tempting an opportunity for Tsukishima to disrupt.

He paused briefly just inside the kitchen entryway, drinking in the languid lines of your silhouette awash in the buttery warmth spilling from the oven's interior lights. The subtle but enticing curves of your body were accentuated by the casual lounge pants slung low on your hips and formfitting knit top that shifted hypnotically with each lazy twitch of the wooden spoon clutched in your hand.

Tsukishima's mouth went dry as he watched the gentle rise and fall of your shoulders accompanying each measured inhale and exhale. Every fiber of his being hummed in sympathetic frequency with the thrumming bassline pulsing through the floorboards under his bare feet. He advanced with predatory grace until looming just behind you, near enough to feel the heat radiating from your body in delicious contradiction to the sharp, cool tang of your soap and shampoo perfuming the space between you.

You startled faintly when he cleared his throat, the barest perceptible tightening of your shoulders before you slanted him a sidelong look of bemused inquiry. "I thought you were-"

"Out? Avoiding your incessant microwaved atrocities?" Tsukishima supplied archly, voice pitched low enough to thrum deliciously against the sensitive whorls of your inner ear. He took shameless satisfaction in the instinctive tick of tension feathering through your frame at his sudden proximity and realized just how exquisitely you'd underestimated the effect of him deliberately encroaching like this.

"That's not-" you shot back, aggrieved, before visibly swallowing back the retort and exhaling slowly in an attempt at regained composure. " ...I was just getting dinner ready, actually."

"And here I thought you were rehearsing for the 2024 Rhythmic Gymnastics Olympic trials," Tsukishima drawled in a voice gone syrupy with exaggerated innocence. His eyes followed the delectable sway of your hips as you turned back towards the stove, seemingly compelled into motion to diffuse the thick cloud of tension now billowing uncontained around you.

He took the opportunity to insert himself into your orbit, sidling smoothly past and forcing you to abruptly crane backwards to avoid his chest brushing against you. The tips of your wild hair tickled Tsukishima's jaw, sparked with residual static as he blatantly reached up and over your head to trail his splayed fingers along the underside of the upper cabinet.

Your breath went taut and shallow as he leaned in fractionally closer to feign examination of the cabinet's contents, and his heightened senses zeroed in on the way your pulse had begun to judder with uneven rapidity in the graceful column of your throat. So close now, the scintillating radiance of your warmth and presence blotted out all else in a gauzy, magnetizing vignette.

"What was it you were...looking for again?" You breathed out at last, a palpable tremor running through the question that hinted at the effort it took to maintain tenuous control over your composure.

Tsukishima hummed as if just remembering himself, gaze slipping down from the cabinet to burn a path over the delicious slopes and taut musculature of your backside mere inches from where he loomed. His fingertips slid across the underside of the cabinet towards you infinitesimally until he could feel the tingle of your body heat mingling with his own.

"Oh, nothing in particular," he finally purred, allowing the rasp of suggestion to bleed fully into every slurred syllable. "Just...enjoying the view."

You froze as if struck by lightning, every muscle gone taut and arrestingly still as the implication settled over you like an electrified miasma. For several protracted beats, the only movements between you came from your rapidly fluttering pulse hammering beneath the delicate sculpting of your jaw.

Tsukishima drank in the sight greedily, entranced by the way your pupils had blown wide, lips parting infinitesimally to pant out shallow, unsteady breaths. He could almost taste the roiling waves of confusion, arousal and consternation washing off you in acrid, mouthwatering bursts.

Just as he'd begun leaning in fractionally closer - operating on baser muscle intuition to revel in the effect of antagonizing those deepening fault lines in your restraint - the muffled whine of the apartment's front door opening startled you.

You wrenched away from his looming presence so violently that one of the cabinet doors caught your hip, drawing a pained hiss. And just like that, the rapturous bubble you'd both been so deliciously suspended in burst with harsh finality. Tsukishima was left trailing in your abrupt wake as you hurried from the kitchen without a backwards glance.

But he remained transfixed in place a few beats longer, rolling the echoes of adrenaline and electric tension through his consciousness like a saturated sponge. This was far from over - just another advance scout sent out to weaken your fortifications ahead of the next siege of his obsession.

The question was no longer if you would eventually capitulate to its gravitational insistence...but how utterly you'd crumble into decoherence once you at last surrendered control.

The encounters grew increasingly charged in the ensuing days, rippling with an undercurrent of unresolved provocation that threatened to crest at any moment. Tsukishima seemed to find new, increasingly brazen ways to insert himself into your personal space and routines.

Like the morning he ambled into the kitchen still disheveled from sleep - bare feet, rumpled sweatpants hanging precariously low on his lean hips, and a strategically unbuttoned shirt leaving little to the imagination. You were puttering around making coffee, back turned to him as he paused in the entryway to openly admire the view.

"Forgetting something?" His half-awake rasp still managed to drip with unmistakable suggestion. You jolted slightly before twisting to face him, brows raised in muted confusion until realization tinted your cheeks pink.

Tsukishima allowed his hooded gaze to drag pointedly over the thin cotton tank top you'd slept in - tight enough to leave little to the imagination this early before getting properly dressed. More specifically, the distinct absence of a bra's restrictive lines meant your nipples were on tantalizing display beneath the soft knit fabric.

"Didn't realize I needed a permit to be comfortable in my own home," you countered at last, proud of how little your voice wavered under Tsukishima's smoldering perusal.

One auburn brow inched higher in a deliciously provocative arch. "Who said anything about permits?" He let the words hang rife with insouciant curiosity before sauntering fully into the kitchen.

Tsukishima moved with exaggerated nonchalance, almost feline in his studied grace as he brushed past you to snag a mug from the overhead cabinet. You tensed imperceptibly as his arm extended over your shoulder, torso near enough that your bare upper arm grazed his chest through the vee of his unbuttoned shirt.

The friction of skin on skin was ephemeral, easily played off as incidental contact in such close quarters. But Tsukishima knew better - could sense the incongruous shiver feathering through you at his proximity, hear the uptick in your breathing's cadence.

He allowed one fingertip to skim up the curve of your bicep as he withdrew with his purloined mug, not even attempting to mask the smirk playing about his lips as you squirmed away bristling with delightfully ruffled indignation.

"Would you cut that out?" You shot across the kitchen, voice emerging several octaves too high to maintain an effective scolding timbre.

Tsukishima merely hummed a low, noncommittal response around the rim of his purloined mug, eyes already devouring the graceful arch of your back as you attempted to reassert some sense of normalcy by abandoning the coffee preparation.

Subtle as the provocation, he didn't miss the minor shudder transmitted through your frame at the simple rustling of fabric accompanying each minute shift of his stance. Tsukishima knew the effect he was having, could smell the coded pheromones of interest and uncertainty wafting from you in arousing summons.

All it would take was another indecorous push on the margins of propriety between you...

That opportunity arose mere hours later in another seeming happenstance encounter veiled beneath mundane routine. Tsukishima emerged fresh from showering, towel cinched low around his narrow hips while he used a second to scrub roughly at his damp hair. He detected your presence before even turning the corner into the hallway - heard the distinct cadence of your footfalls accompanied by equally familiar frustrated huffs.

By the time he rounded into view, you were distracted with wrestling your oversized laundry basket towards the utility closet at the far end of the hallway. Tsukishima didn't miss a beat, silently advancing to 'assist' without preamble.

You yelped at the sudden looming of his broad silhouette over your shoulder, hands gripping the handle of the basket until your knuckles shown pale. "Fuck, Kei - were you born without the ability to clear your throat or something?"

He allowed himself a low chuckle at your flustered gripe, the rumbling timbre rattling against the humid fog of air still clinging to his skin from the recent shower. "And have you go deaf from lack of usage? Where's the fun in that?"

You rolled your eyes at his flippant rejoinder, muscles visibly relaxing though your grip remained white-knuckled on the laundry basket's handle. Tsukishima took the opportunity to rake his molten stare overtly down the towel-shrouded length of his torso, gaze finally snagging on the juncture of terrycloth where it strained against his hips. When he lifted his focus back to you, you were frozen in unmistakable appreciation of the visual feast he'd offered.

"If you needed help wrestling that big load into the closet, you need only ask," Tsukishima purred, allowing a lascivious note to bleed into his tone conspicuously.

The effect was instantaneous - you flushed a vivid crimson, darting eyes quickly skating away from his as you scrambled for some sense of control over the encounter. "I've got it, thanks," you managed in a strangled tone pitched several decibels too high.

Rather than respecting your dismissal, Tsukishima took the opportunity to sidle in fractionally closer, near enough for his towel's hem to ghost a teasing caress over the distracted splay of your knuckles around the laundry basket. He watched with rapt fascination as a shudder rippled through your frame, gooseflesh erupting over the exposed canvas of your forearms until your every fine hair was on charged end.

"You seem awfully flustered this morning," he murmured against the vulnerable juncture of your jaw, near enough for you to feel the puff of his words' passage skating over your electrified skin. "Perhaps a cold shower would help...?"

Your breath hitched raggedly at the blatant suggestion, inadvertently allowing your shoulders to brush against the naked, fever-warm expanse of Tsukishima's torso as you attempted to put space between you. He seized the aborted movement as invitation to encroach further, hips canting minutely to press the lean V of his pelvis flush against the tantalizing flare of your backside.

The sudden, intimate contact obliterated whatever composure you'd been desperately clinging to like a scrap of cloth underfoot. In the same breath, you sucked in a harsh gasp, entire body going rigid as every synapse whited out into searing focus on that singular, scorching point of contact. Tsukishima took full advantage, bending fractionally to sluice the words directly against the heated hollow beneath your ear with hideous intimacy.

"I could give you some...private lessons on cooling down if you need them."

Your resultant groan punched from your diaphragm, strangled more from disbelief than outrage. He could sense the last tattered shreds of your propriety fraying by the second in the face of his unrelenting siege. But just as he prepared to deliver another barrage to fully breach your defenses, the muffled creak of the apartment's front door once again heralded an untimely interruption.

This time you reacted by shoving the unwieldy laundry basket away like a battering ram, toppling free without a second glance as you fled the explosive radius of Tsukishima's provocations. He watched you retreat with an impassive, heavy-lidded stare - utterly unbothered by the dispersion of clothing and sundry garments now littering the hallway and already plotting his next strategic offensive.

The antagonizing intimacy of each near-culmination left you shaken and destabilized. But far from dissuading Tsukishima's fixation, the withdrawal only whetted his compulsions to increasingly feverish heights with each cycle. He rode the high of those flirtations with ruinous gravities longer and longer, psyche buzzing like a live wire steadily burning away its protective shielding to expose the raw arcing filaments beneath.

That fissure between the polite fictions you clung to and the heaving, atavistic impulses rattling for release was widening. Every subsequent encounter fractured the remaining quarrystone just a bit more, slowly transforming your relationship into a gaping maw daring you both to pitch forward into its obscene, annihilating radiances.

So Tsukishima pressed on with increasing abandon, heedless of the devastation he courted. Every accidental-on-purpose brush of heated flesh on flesh, every suggestive murmur or remark purposefully engineered to send your thoughts into frenzied tailspins...he wielded them as agents of chaotic erosion. Turbulent eddies and searing plumes blasted relentlessly against the remaining integrity of your defenses until only sheared-away remnants remained.

All while Tsukishima waited, every particle accelerated to maximum catalyzing potential, for the inescapable moment of criticality where you could no longer withstand the forces arrayed against your restraint. Where you were reduced to ground zero, a supernova singularity from which there could be no outgassing or reconstitution - only absolute decoherence and surrender to the annihilating truth of what ravened between you.

A late spring storm rolled in unexpectedly that evening, thunder rumbling ominously as dark clouds opened up and unleashed torrential rain. The storm's fury showed no signs of abating as the hours ticked by. The dreary tattoo of rainfall eventually lulled into a static blanket of white noise surrounding the apartment.

You meandered into the kitchen at one point, abandoning all pretenses of productivity in favor of mindlessly rummaging through the cabinets. A handful of stray snacks and your favorite battered paperback provided a meager salve against the oppressive restlessness taking root.

By the time you settled back in the living room, periodically breaking from your reading to stare vacantly out the rain-lashed windows, cabin fever had well and truly set in. You barely registered the bathroom door opening and closing, or the faint pad of footfalls approaching until Tsukishima cleared his throat from the entryway.

You startled, nearly dislodging the nest of blankets cocooned around you as you twisted to face him. A lick of heat blossomed low in your belly at his utterly distracting state of dishabille - shirtless and tousled from the shower, worn sweatpants hanging perilously low on his lean hips.

"You just going to pretend to read all night, or...?" Tsukishima's words trailed off in that suggestive lilt he seemed to wield solely to unhinge you. You swallowed hard against the aridity prickling your throat.

"Well, this would be a lot more exciting if we could have anticipated being trapped inside together," You heard yourself replying in a tone bordering on breathless despite your best efforts at maintaining nonchalance.

One corner of Tsukishima's mouth curved in a devilish smirk. "Who says it has to be boring?"

You blinked rapidly, frozen in place as he prowled closer with that maddeningly unhurried, predatory gait of his. Your chest rose and fell in shallow bursts, unconsciously telegraphing the spike in your pulse when he sank onto the sofa next to you.

"Relax," he murmured, voice gone low and rumbly in a way that sparked exquisite little frissons all along your limbs. "If you get any more tightly wound, you're liable to spontaneously combust."

The blatant suggestion in his tone triggered a fresh blossoming heat across your collarbones. You licked your lips instinctively, hyper-aware of Tsukishima's bedroom-eyed stare tracking the movement with unmistakable interest.

"Maybe I could use a distraction, then," you managed in a tone aiming for arch nonchalance but emerging husky and tremulous instead.

Tsukishima hummed deep in his chest, leaning in infinitesimally closer until you could make out the feathery whorls of individual lashes framing those molten eyes, the dusting of faint freckles scattered across his sculpted cheekbones.

"I can think of a few options for that..."

The low, velvety rasp of his words catalyzed a cascading frisson reaction along your nerves. Your gasped inhale wavered precariously close to a whine of surrender as the heated miasma of Tsukishima's proximity shrouded you in intoxicating totality.

He dipped nearer still, one calloused fingertip trailing an incendiary path up the exposed slope of your shoulder until it curved tantalizingly around the base of your throat.

The molten gravity between you yawned and stretched taut as a singularity's event horizon as your gazes met and mingled - all the riotous impulses and shredded refrains of propriety temporarily abandoned to the upswell of that heated, eclipsing tension.

Tsukishima's lashes hooded heavily as his stare dropped to linger meaningfully on your parted lips. You felt your own eager inhale stutter in your lungs as he leaned the final incremental distance separating you and—

The abrupt squall of your phone's ringtone pierced the rapturous bubble of hushed tension with all the delicacy of a gunshot, sending you both flinching violently apart in a mutual full-bodied startle.

You scrambled to untangle yourself from the cocoon of blankets while Tsukishima surged to his feet, jaw clenched and nostrils flaring in mingled aggravation and unfulfilled yearning.

"You'd better get that," he bit out gruffly before stalking away in a tightly-leashed whirlwind, already shrugging into a discarded shirt as he retreated down the hallway.

You stared after his abrupt exit for several long, thunderstruck beats before fumbling for your phone to end the wretched interruption. Outside, the rain still pelted with unremitting force against the windows in a dreary percussive counterpoint to the furious pounding of adrenaline roaring between your temples.

Alone once more, you sank jelly-legged back onto the couch, thoughts whirring with chaotic possibilities and unvoiced recriminations. Relief at avoiding...what, precisely, you couldn't identify. Frustration, resentment that the moment between you had shattered so irrevocably. And underneath it all, a deeper, hungrier current that no amount of conscientious denial could quell entirely.

Try as you might to restrict its momentum, the inescapable gravities catalyzing between you had grown too immense and intrinsically locked to be denied indefinitely. It was only a matter of time now before they overwhelmed the final eroding vestiges of your restraint entirely.

The apartment felt thick with pent-up energy in the aftermath of that aborted, almost-intersection. An overcharged miasma clung to every room, every mundane occurrence between you now freighted with unvoiced implications.

Tsukishima grew increasingly emboldened in those ensuing days, needling you with suggestive remarks and invasions of personal space that bordered on the obscene. You responded with curt rejoinders or stony silence, but the effect was like dousing a raging wildfire with a garden hose's dribble.

He crowded you against the kitchen counter one evening as you washed dishes, chest brushing your back with each inhale until your hands stilled beneath the soapy deluge.

"Need some help?" The seductive rasp filtered across the sensitive whorls of your ear, making you shudder involuntarily. "These dishes are looking...utterly filthy."

Before you could formulate a retort or extricate yourself, Tsukishima's hands slid around your waist in a purposefully artless mimicry of an embrace. His palms skated over the taut planes of your abdomen, smearing trails of soapy water as he leaned in fractionally closer until his lips disturbed the diaphanous veil of your hair.

"I do so love getting my hands...dirty," he practically purred, the resonant undulations of his voice reverberating through you with exquisite intimacy.

You froze utterly, knuckles gone bloodless around the ceramic edges of the plate clutched between your fingers. Every measured inhalation you drew only stoked the bonfire of Tsukishima's proximity raging higher and hotter around you.

Each hitched breath fanned the flames of your indecision as warring instincts - to flee or surrender, remain locked in this smoldering stasis or detonate the fuse between you entirely - battled for dominance.

Tsukishima seemed to sense the infinitesimal tremors rattling through your frame in those charged moments, tactician that he was. His calloused hands spanned your midriff possessively, kneading at the tension barricading your abdomen in wordless invitation.

When you remained immobilized in his orbit, petrified equally by terror and temptation, he allowed the exhalation of a rapturous sigh to scorch every previously unexplored hollow and curve of your exposed skin.

"Look at me," he commanded at last in that same ruinous timbre that stripped you of rational capacity.

You complied sluggishly, as if wading through atmospheric densities double their usual weight, until your unfocused gaze locked with the blown-wide expanses of Tsukishima's irises.

His stare smoldered with undisguised hunger, burning paths over your parted lips and the rapid fluttering of your pulse point before searing back to meet your own glazed regard. You felt utterly hypnotized in that annealing instant, magnetized towards this singularity of eclipsing provocation.

Tsukishima didn't so much lean in as allow the event horizon to gradually envelop you both, each synapse and loaded inhale telescoping further into the same devouring radiance. He cradled your nape in one broad palm, anchoring you inescapably as his mouth angled to collision upon yours with finality of celestial bodies yielding to intractable gravities.

Victory and resignation burned in equal measure in his stare, as if daring you to be the one to extinguish this final infinite breath separating you from sating the compulsions simmering for far too excruciatingly—

A thunderous barrage of knuckles at the front door splintered the raptured silence into shards. You gasped against the searing proximity of Tsukishima's lips, every nerve ending jolted back to momentary lucidity. He uttered a guttural rasp of pure frustration, eyes squeezing shut as if willing away this latest violation.

But the hammering at the entryway persisted with escalating force and urgency, finally severing the spell suspending you both in that singular, transcendent stasis. Tsukishima wrenched himself away with visible effort, backpedaling several paces as you remained rooted in place and trembling.

The turbulence from his abrupt withdrawal left a roiling wake of eddies disturbing the humid atmosphere around you. You struggled to recapture your equilibrium, senses still hazy with unsated yearning and the acrid tang of almost-completion.

Tsukishima stalked towards the front entrance in a tightly-leashed whirlwind, movements telegraphing his agitation through every taut line of musculature. Just before wrenching the door open, he slanted you one final inscrutable look from beneath hooded lashes - one final lancing intimation that this wasn't over by any means.

Not until all veils were sundered and both of you yielded to the compulsions wheeling you ever closer to that searing event horizon of no return.

Tsukishima returned to the apartment that evening utterly drained from a marathon study session at the library. The weight of fatigue clung to his bones like full-body restraints as he fumbled with his keys, thoughts fuzzy and focused solely on collapsing into bed for a few hours' reprieve.

So when the sounds of muted conversation and low laughter filtered through from inside, he felt the first faint prickle of alertness pierce his exhaustion-fogged senses. You hardly ever had visitors over besides Akiteru, which meant—

A fresh wave of wakefulness doused Tsukishima as he quietly pushed through the door to find you nestled on the couch...accompanied by another man he didn't immediately recognize. You were angled towards this stranger with your full attention, body cant subtly inward as you spoke in hushed, impassioned tones, the two of you leaning unconsciously ever-closer with each conspiratorial murmur.

A muscle went taut along Tsukishima's jaw as he registered the intimate tableau before him - the way the man's broad shoulders hunched eagerly towards you, that undisguised spark of naked interest glinting in his heavy-lidded assessment of your features. Setting the scene like another planet abruptly shifting into Tsukishima's established orbit without permission.

He cleared his throat once, a percussive bark that shattered the hushed ambiance and had you both jolting upright like repelled magnets across a forcefield. The man whipped around with a look of surprise rapidly melting into sheepish discomfiture as you straightened, kneading the knotted throw pillow in your grasp like a lifeline.

"Kei! You're, uh—you're back sooner than I expected," you stammered after a loaded pause. The tips of your ears flushed slightly under Tsukishima's bland, assessing stare. "I was just...catching up with an old friend from undergrad. We haven't seen each other in ages."

Your eyes pleaded guilelessly for some sense of normalcy, but Tsukishima felt the riptide undertow of something distinctly possessive and unslakeable roaring to the surface within him. His gaze sliced incisively to the stranger sitting just a hair too intimately close to you.

"I see. Well, I didn't mean to interrupt your...catching up," he intoned at length, each precisely shaped syllable dripping with the confrontational lilt of challenge. The look he slanted at the other man may as well have been semaphored in neon: This ends now.

To the guy's credit, he seemed to grasp the perilous undercurrents tensing the atmosphere with a clarity that escaped your well-meaning obliviousness. After throwing an inscrutable, questioning look your way that garnered no reassurance, he stood abruptly and made a show of straightening his clothes.

"You know what, you're absolutely right. I've probably overstayed my welcome tonight," he addressed both of you in a tone striving for diplomacy, even as his eyes danced between Tsukishima's smoldering countenance and your deepening frown of consternation. "Rain check on the rest of the reminiscing? It was...great catching up."

You opened your mouth, undoubtedly to protest his abrupt exit, but Tsukishima seized control of the situation before it could spiral chaotically out of control.

"Of course," he interjected smoothly, stepping aside just enough to allow the man to skirt a wide berth past his obstinately planted form. A significant look passed between them - bristling with unspoken reproach and sizing up - before your friend finally made his exit.

The door had barely clicked shut before Tsukishima turned his gimlet focus towards you fully, already advancing into your space like an unstoppable force guided by irrefutable trajectories.

"Making new friends in my absence?" The question emerged in a low rasp, knife-edged with barely restrained umbrage that lent it a vaguely mocking quality. "That's either impressively brazen...or cruelly negligent of you."

You blinked up at him owlishly from your seat on the couch, hands still worrying that hapless throw pillow like a discarded stress ball as Tsukishima's scorching presence buffeted you from all sides.

"Kei, what is your problem?" You fired back at last, sounding more petulant than convincingly indignant as he loomed over you in mounting displeasure. "He really was just an old friend. We didn't—"

"Didn't what?" Tsukishima cut you off with biting false-geniality. "Put on a salacious little show of false intimacy where I could clearly see how eager he was to rekindle old flames? Force me to witness how withdrawn and rapturous your attention was while tucked so close together?"

"That's not fair," you protested, beginning to push upright from the couch cushions only to have Tsukishima's broad palms bracket the rumpled fabric on either side of your head – effectively caging you in place as he prowled even nearer.

You swallowed hard, suddenly dizzy from the electrifying proximity of his presence and the scorching recrimination skating through his gimlet stare. Tsukishima cocked his head fractionally to one side, assessing you with such intensity it was like being systematically disrobed layer by layer.

"Do you even realize what it does to me?" He breathed at last, the hushed rasp of his words rippling intimately against the sensitive whorls of your inner ear. "Seeing you so openly beguiled by another, being dismissed from your undivided attention?"

He shifted infinitesimally closer, near enough for you to feel the searing thermals of his body heat and track the tangled riot of individual lashes framing each heavy-lidded stare. Tsukishima's voice had taken on a smoky, nectar-thick resonance that seemed to burrow straight down into your innermost nexuses of instinct and longing.

"Kei, I..." Whatever feeble protestation you attempted to summon fractured on your tongue as he dipped even nearer still. Tsukishima's nose skated a scorching, featherlight path along the line of your jaw until his mouth hovered a scant hairsbreadth from yours - so perilously close that you could taste the arid exhalations gusting from between his parted lips.

"Every fiber of my being rails against the mere notion of being an afterthought in your attentions," he confessed in a spine-tingling purr. "Of having to tolerate another encroaching on...what's mine."

The naked possessiveness saturating that final rasp stripped you of any remaining pretenses of composure. You could only manage a muted whimper from somewhere in the back of your throat as the full weight of Tsukishima's compulsions - his long-smoldering fixation you'd denied for far too long now - reverberated through you in rapturous detonations.

You sensed his gravitic tides enveloping you, every forbidden longing suddenly compressed into hyper-focused singularity between the searing, infinitesimal proximity of your bodies. Tsukishima searched your wide, unfocused stare for any hint of rejection or objection and found only stunned, reciprocal rapture gazing back.

"Tell me you don't want this as badly," he growled with low, dangerous timbre. "Look me in the eyes and convince me you haven't imagined surrendering to inevitability as completely as I have every torturous second of denying it..."

He sealed the minuscule gap separating you in one blistering rush. Tsukishima's mouth slanted hotly over yours with all the ruthless, unyielding insistence you'd come to expect but could never have braced for. The first shocking contact detonated like a lightning strike, shorting out any lingering mental processes apart from sheer visceral conflagration.

You shuddered full-bodily into the onslaught, hands convulsing in the cushions as his palms cradled your jaw to hold you immobile. Tsukishima surged even more impossibly nearer, his calloused palm rasping up the sensitive juncture of your throat until his fingertips found purchase in the dense silk of your hair.

Within seconds you were pliant and keening against him, lips parting wantonly on a gasping whine as he slanted his mouth across yours with relentless, devouring precision. The first exploratory swipe of his velvet tongue left you utterly unraveled, quaking with full-bodied devastation as Tsukishima mapped every searing nuance of your intimate geometries.

He allowed no quarter or reservations to persist - only the full, immolating truth of his compulsions made exquisitely and irrefutably manifest against the plush glide of your lips, the wet velvet of your mouth yielding beneath the onslaught of his attentions.

Every tremor that ripped through you seemed to lance Tsukishima with renewed fervency. He groaned, low and harrowing, as your eager fingers fisted spasmodically in the fabric of his shirt, seeking any sort of anchoring purchase amidst the bewildering, rapturous upheaval.

You'd never experienced anything like this - this level of sheer totality and berserker focus distilled into physical expression. It was as if Tsukishima were searing the incontrovertible truth of his fixation into your very bones using only his lips and tongue and ceaseless, gnawing hunger.

Years of repression and denial and circuitous gravities slowly compounding into critical mass between you abruptly detonated into coalescent bliss. This ravenous claiming was equal parts absolution and desperate, lurid gratification of compulsions far too immense to subdue any longer.

You felt the dense warmth of his palm skating searingly down your torso, bunching and rucking your clothing with each searing glide. The plaintive, wrecked sound you managed to produce at the sudden intimate contact only seemed to further unleash the rampant undertow of Tsukishima's ardor.

His answering growl rumbled straight through your hazes and nexi, reverberating across every shockwave of awakened nerves and nerve endings. Some distant part of you felt subsumed entirely under the rising tide of that overwhelming onslaught, relinquishing the last shards of agency and coherence to simply experience rapture in its most ruinous, annihilating distillation.

You surrendered utterly in that moment - mind, body, and soul catalyzed to a singular axis point devouring every permutation of reality save for the obscene, unholy revelations of Tsukishima's mouth and hands searing reality anew into your senses.

This was what you had both been hurtling towards for far too long, stubbornly resisting the cosmic insistence of fate and willful denial despite inevitability's inescapable gravities. With an inarticulate keen of abject surrender, you canted your jaw and yielding to the delirium of that blissful, eternal singularity at last.

Tsukishima, his obsession reified into living religion, was more than willing to meet you on that ecstatic boundary and usher you both fully across the divide.

The moment your lips parted in surrender, Tsukishima surged forward with the ferocious insistence of a man finally allowing years of repressed starvation to run rampant. His mouth slanted hotly over yours with lurid, open-mouthed fervor, tongue spearing past seam of your lips to map every searing plane of velvet within.

You keen softly at the blinding intensity, fingers convulsing in the rumpled fabric of his shirt as you pulled him bodily closer - suddenly desperate to extinguish any last vestige of space between your frames. Tsukishima growled his approval against your lips, hands spanning your jaw to tilt your head into the perfect devouring angle as his hips canted forward purposefully.

The blatant press and grind of his cock against your lower abdomen catalyzed a full-body shudder. You arched instinctively against the maddening friction, soft whimpers punching from your throat with each subsequent roll of Tsukishima's hips against your own. He swallowed those needy keens hungrily, tongue plunging with filthy precision to entwine and taste every nuance of reciprocation from you.

Your skin felt electrified, every fine hair prickling with rapturous sensitivity in Tsukishima's overwhelming radiance. You clutched at the cut slopes of his shoulders like a lifeline, mind hazing out into dissociative planes of ecstasy with each languid swirl and thrust of his tongue against yours. The dizzying intimacy of his ravenous mouth and roving hands mapping possessive paths across your shuddering curves was utterly obliterating.

Just when you felt the last tattered remnants of oxygen deprivation graying the corners of your consciousness, Tsukishima relented fractionally - dragging his lips in a scorching, openmouthed trail along the rigid tendons of your neck. You gulped in precious gulps of air, everything zoning into hyper-focused clarity on the heavenly ministrations of his mouth mapping your thundering pulse point before continuing up to lave the sensitive basin beneath your ear.

"Been dreaming of this..." he confessed in a voice guttered to smoke and honey. "Of finally having you splayed and breathless beneath me."

The barefaced carnal imagery and undisguised compulsion in his tone punched a whine from deep in your chest. Somewhere through the synaptic whiteouts of pleasure, you managed a tremulous plea for more of that undiluted truth to be scorched into your awareness.

Tsukishima growled in savage gratification, hips snapping forward again to grind deliciously against you as his mouth trailed liquid infernos across your cheekbone back towards your lips. "Had to watch you for years unconscious of how badly I wanted this...needed you laid out and whimpering for me."

Your resultant moan obliterated any lingering attempt at composure. He took ruthless advantage once more, tongue spearing past your parted lips to taste the uninhibited rapture. You surged against him mindlessly, fingers spasming into the tense cording of muscle spanning his back as your senses grew whited out in ecstasy.

Tsukishima shifted his weight to fully bracket you into the couch, the blissful cradle of his hips slotting obscenely against your own as his calloused fingers traced paths of ruination everywhere they roamed. You were malleable putty in his hands - liquefied by desperation and the annihilating surrender to compulsions held at bay for far too excruciatingly long.

Your clothes were rapidly becoming an obstacle, the fabric rucked and constricting until you felt the full force of Tsukishima's blazing touch against the delicate planes and curves of your bare skin. You writhed instinctively beneath him, desperate to be freed of the confines and fully submerged in the molten radiance of his body.

Tsukishima seemed to intuit your desire with the preternatural synchronicity he exhibited on the court. In seconds, his calloused palms had skimmed beneath your shirt and peeled it deftly overhead, tossing it carelessly aside as he drank in the sight of you half-clothed and quivering.

"Perfect..." He rasped, eyes darkening in appreciation as they raked over your bare chest and stomach, the peaks of your nipples stiffening beneath his ravenous gaze. Tsukishima's tongue darted across his lower lip, and the gesture was so sinfully enticing that you couldn't help but whine low in the back of your throat.

That seemed to spur him into action, and his hands were suddenly everywhere. Your pants and underwear disappeared in a whirlwind of movement, and then you were spread bare beneath him. The way he looked at you - the unmitigated heat and desire and raw possession gleaming in his stare - made you flush with arousal all over.

Tsukishima's hands were everywhere, mapping every exposed plane and curve with an intensity that left you gasping. His touch was searing, callouses rasping deliciously over the sensitive peaks of your breasts and nipples, making you arch into him.

"Please..." you gasped, already beyond words, beyond anything but the need to feel him against you, inside you. "Please, Kei..."

That seemed to be all the permission he needed. His eyes flashed with dark hunger, and his hands were moving to push his own pants and underwear off. You couldn't help the soft cry that escaped you as his cock sprang free, thick and heavy and leaking precum.

Tsukishima wasted no time, his fingers slipping between your thighs to find you dripping for him. You whined, bucking against him, desperate for more friction. His fingers slid inside you, fucking into you with a steady rhythm that had you writhing against him.

You could feel the molten, inescapable radiance of Tsukishima's stare tracking every twitch and flutter of expression, every involuntary jerk and shiver of response in your frame. He seemed intent on memorizing each subtle shift and hitch of rapturous torment rippling across your features, mapping the exact points that reduced you to keening, incoherent pleas.

His fingertips curled inside you with expert precision, stroking and teasing and stretching you open until you were a shuddering, moaning mess. You couldn't even think, could only feel, as the searing compulsion to be fully, utterly ravaged by Tsukishima's ravenous attentions obliterated all other concerns.

Tsukishima watched you come undone with a hunger that made your head spin. His eyes were dark and intense, drinking in every inch of you, every shudder and gasp. His gaze was nearly as palpable as his touch, setting your nerves alight.

"You're so beautiful like this..." he murmured, his voice ragged with lust. "All laid out and trembling for me, begging for my cock."

His words sent another wave of arousal through you, and you could feel yourself clench around his fingers. Tsukishima groaned, and his cock twitched, precum beading at the tip. You ached to taste him, to feel him inside you, filling you.

"Kei, please," you gasped, reaching for him, needing him. "Please, I need you, I need you inside me."

That seemed to be all the convincing he needed. Tsukishima withdrew his fingers, leaving you aching and empty for just a moment before his cock was pressing against your entrance. You moaned, arching into him, and he pushed inside with a groan.

The feeling of him inside you was almost too much. You were already so close, and the sensation of him filling you was enough to send you over the edge. But you wanted more, wanted to feel him move, to see him fall apart.

"Please," you managed, voice little more than a breathless whine. "Move, Kei, please, I need you..."

With a low growl, he began to move, thrusting into you with deep, powerful strokes that had you crying out with each one. His cock filled you perfectly, hitting every spot that made you see stars. You clung to him, desperate for more, needing more.

The sounds of pleasure falling from Tsukishima's lips were absolutely sinful. You could feel his gaze raking over you, watching you fall apart beneath him. His pace increased, driving into you harder and faster. You could feel your climax building, each stroke sending you closer and closer to the edge.

Tsukishima's fingers tangled in your hair, tugging your head back to expose the delicate line of your throat. His teeth grazed the sensitive skin, and you moaned, arching into him. His hips snapped forward, his cock hitting that perfect spot inside you over and over.

"Come for me," he growled, his voice raw with lust. "I want to feel you come, to feel you fall apart for me."

That was all it took to send you careening over the edge. You came hard, crying out his name as your orgasm crashed over you in wave after wave. He fucked you through it, prolonging your pleasure until you were a trembling, incoherent mess beneath him.

As your climax subsided, Tsukishima's movements became more erratic. He was close, you could tell, his breathing ragged and his thrusts losing their rhythm. You wrapped your legs around him, pulling him deeper, urging him on.

"Come for me, Kei," you managed, your voice barely above a whisper. "Come inside me, I need to feel you, please..."

Those words seemed to push him over the edge. With a groan, he thrust into you one last time, his cock pulsing as he spilled inside you. You clung to him, riding out his orgasm with him.

As the aftershocks faded, he collapsed against you, his body heavy and warm. You wrapped your arms around him, holding him close. You could feel his heart hammering against your chest, and his breath was hot against your neck.

You could have stayed like that forever, wrapped up in each other, but Tsukishima's weight was becoming uncomfortable. After a moment, he shifted, pulling out and rolling onto his side. His eyes were still dark, but now they were also soft, and his expression was unreadable.

"Are you okay?" His voice was low and gentle, and the tenderness in it made your heart ache.

You nodded, reaching up to cup his face in your hand. He leaned into the touch, and you could feel the tension in his body melting away.

"I'm perfect," you whispered, leaning up to press a kiss to his lips. He kissed you back, slow and sweet. "Absolutely perfect."

Tsukishima's answering smirk was infuriating and triumphant and insufferably smug, but he gathered you up in his arms and pressed a searing kiss to your temple nonetheless. The weight of him surrounding you, anchoring you to the here and now, felt like absolution and promise and utter perfection all rolled into one.

In the afterglow, there was no need to dissemble or deny the seismic magnitude of what had just transpired between the two of you. Tsukishima's arm draped possessively across your waist, his fingertips tracing idle, sensuous patterns across the smooth expanse of your abdomen as he pressed a drugging kiss to the nape of your neck.

"Do you regret it yet?" His murmured inquiry was a smoky rumble, laced with equal parts wry humor and uncharacteristic uncertainty.

"Never," you responded immediately, no hesitation or equivocation clouding your response. You craned your head back to lock gazes with him, allowing the full force of your conviction to bleed through in your stare.

A smile curled at the corners of Tsukishima's lips - the rare, genuine kind that made your heart skip a beat. He pressed another kiss to the hollow of your throat, his teeth grazing the tender skin just enough to make you gasp.

"Good," he purred, sounding distinctly self-satisfied as he curled his body possessively around yours. "Because I've been waiting years to do that...and I'm nowhere near done."

You laughed, lightheaded and giddy and utterly smitten. This had certainly escalated far beyond any realm of your comprehension, but Tsukishima's ardent compulsions had been so thoroughly fulfilled that he seemed willing to let the past - and whatever might have transpired between you and him tonight - fade into the ether of the future.

And when Tsukishima's mouth slanted across your lips in another searing, devouring kiss, you found that you really, truly couldn't bring yourself to care about anything beyond this blissful, annihilating singularity of reality.

You awoke the next morning, deliciously sore and tangled in Tsukishima's embrace. A lazy smile tugged at your lips as you basked in the warmth of his sleeping form. Memories of the previous night's passion made a pleasant shiver run down your spine.

A sharp rap at the door made you both jolt awake. Tsukishima frowned as the insistent knocking continued. You quickly gathered the blanket around your bare form as he tugged on a discarded pair of shorts and stalked over to answer it.

The door swung open to reveal Akiteru, a cheerful grin spreading across his face. "Hey, little bro! I was in the neighborhood and thought I'd—" His eyes went comically wide as they landed on you clutching the blanket to your chest. "Oh... Oh!"

Tsukishima pinched the bridge of his nose, cheeks flushing scarlet. "Aki..."

"You... and her?" Akiteru sputtered, smile dropping as the realization sank in. He swiveled his gaze between the two of you, brows climbing higher with each passing second.

An awkward silence stretched as you shrank further into the couch cushions. Akiteru's expression morphed from shock into a teasing smirk.

"Well, well, well. I can't say I didn’t see this coming!" He let out a low whistle. "Though I can't blame you for your excellent taste, Kei."

"Don't start," Tsukishima warned, ears burning. He snatched the pastry box from Akiteru's hands and shoved it against his chest. "Now get out before I slam the door in your face."

Akiteru chuckled, holding up his free hand in surrender. "All right, all right! I'm going!" He leveled a wink your direction. "We'll have to grab drinks sometime and you can give me all the details."

"Out!"

The door slammed on Akiteru's retreating laughter. Tsukishima's shoulders slumped as he turned back to you, expression tinged with mortification.

You bit your lip to stifle a grin. "Well... that was suitably awkward."

He groaned, falling onto the couch and burying his face in your neck. "I'm never going to hear the end of this."

Chuckling softly, you carded your fingers through his sleep-mussed curls. "Look on the bright side—at least he took it better than expected?"

Tsukishima huffed but made no move to pull away from your comforting embrace. After a long moment, he tilted his head back to meet your gaze, eyes softening.

"I guess that's one way to break the news," he murmured wryly.

You laughed, leaning down to brush a soft kiss to his furrowed brow. "Don't worry, we've got all the time in the world to figure the rest out together."

A faint smile finally curved his lips as he reached up to cup your cheek, expression filled with unguarded affection. "Yeah... together sounds perfect."

#haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x reader smut #tsukishima kei #tsukishima x reader #haikyuu tsukishima #hq tsukishima #tsukishima smut #tsukishima x reader smut #tsukishima kei x reader #tsukishima kei smut #tsukishima kei x reader smut

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heavenlyhischier · 28 days

Text

𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐬 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮 | 𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐭 𝐑𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐞

word count: 6.5k

summary: Throughout your entire life, your mom had warned you about boys like him.

warnings: angst, mentions of his stadium series fight, mutual pining, so much misunderstanding, lil makeout sesh at the end, unedited

You were only six years old the first time you met him. It was the first day in your year one class, and you had gotten there a bit earlier than everyone else. Your teacher was kind enough to show you around the classroom before guiding you to your assigned desk for the year, leaving you to unpack the supplies your mom had sent with you. Once you had placed all your cute notebooks and pencil box in the small cubbies, you glanced to the desk next to you and saw the name Matthew R. on the name plate in the upper corner.

Slowly the other kids began to filter in through the classroom door, and you kept an eye out for who you thought Matthew R. might be, but you had been wrong with every guess. You had given up when the class was almost full and focused on the short ‘Get to know me!’ paper your teacher had passed out when you heard the chair next to you being pulled backwards. Your gaze darted next to you and saw a boy that was a few inches taller than everyone else and had the most confident smile you’d ever seen.

He placed his Calgary Flames themed backpack on the back of his chair, taking his seat before he turned to you and said, “Hi, I’m Matthew!”

Ever since then, the two of you have been the closest of friends. Even when he ended up moving away for hockey you would talk to him as often as you could. He would facetime you whenever he had the time, text you in between school and practices, and he’d beg his parents and yours to bring you down to watch him play. It brought on a lot of teasing from family and friends about the nature of your relationship, but the two of you always denied it with flushed cheeks and downturned eyes. Though, your mom always left lingering comments about being careful when it came to boys like him.

When you were applying for colleges, you would be lying if you had said you didn’t apply for some that were close to where Matt was playing at the time. You applied to a few American University exchange programs, mainly in Washington where he was, but you also applied for the exchange program at NYU despite not thinking you would ever get in. Your results slowly trickled in, and you had been rejected by all of the exchange programs, except for the one in New York.

Matt was in town visiting you when you finally told him that you were torn between staying in Alberta, or relocating to New York, for school. He told you that you had to go to New York, that an opportunity like this only came once in a lifetime and you’d be a dumbass to pass it up. You told him what was holding you back, minus the main reason that was written in big red letters flashing in your mind, but he knew you better than anyone. He reminded you of how you’d always wanted to get out and see the world, and this was the best place to start.

That night, the two of you stayed in your room, with the door open of course, and watched your favorite movies from your childhood. It was full of laughter, reminiscing, Matt telling you about his recent adventures, and you telling him about all that he’d missed while he was gone. That night after you ended up falling asleep tucked underneath his arm, you woke up tangled in his gangly limbs, and that was the moment you truly accepted you had feelings for him.

When you found out Matt was going to be moving a little more than two hours away from you, you jumped around your apartment with joy. Your friends were looking at you with wide, confused eyes as you squealed into your phone. The two of them shared knowing looks with each other, mouthing the name of the guy you talked about more than anything before they shook their heads in amusement. Your entire face was red with excitement as you fell back onto the couch, letting your phone thud on the cushion.

“Sorry,” You sigh, though you have a smile on your face, “Matt said he was moving up to the AHL, to Hartford, and it’s only two hours away so I can go see him play again.”

“Just excited to see him play,” Your friend teases, playfully narrowing her eyes at you, “Or excited to see him?”

“Shut up,” You bashfully mumbled, taking the pillow next to you and throwing it in her direction.

When Matt was officially moved to Hartford, the two of you started out seeing each other every month. You’d make the trip whenever it was convenient for the both of you, and you would stay in his shared apartment with him and his roommate. His teammates constantly teased you about your relationship with each other, saying the two of you had to be dating in secret, but the two of you shot it down every time. After a while, he slowly stopped inviting you to visit. Then, he stopped texting you entirely.

To say that his lack of contact got to you would be an understatement, and it only got worse when his sister had told you that he had a new girlfriend, but she said she was using that term loosely. You moped around your apartment for weeks, your friends having to force you out of the apartment to even go to class. They never said anything or asked about what had gotten you so down, but they knew if they ever saw Matt Rempe, they were going to give him a piece of their mind.

You knew it was dramatic and pathetic, but you couldn’t help it. You had let a part of yourself believe that maybe he felt the same way that you did, that maybe all of those nights you fell asleep in his bed meant something to him. When everything abruptly stopped, you couldn’t help but think the last fifteen years were nothing important if he was willing to give that up for a girl. That your friendship meant nothing and maybe your mom was right about boys like him after all.

“Did you see the news,” Angela carefully asks, glancing from her phone to you.

“What news? That I fucking bombed my exam,” You groan in frustration.

“No, that Matt got recalled to the Rangers,” She slides her phone across the table, the tweet repeating what she had said etched on the screen.

You froze in your seat as your eyes stayed glued to the device in front of you. You hadn’t talked to Matt since you’d gone back home for the summer and he was there visiting, too. Even then, it had been a painfully awkward and short interaction that you practically ran away from followed by a text from him that you ultimately decided to ignore.

“Nice,” You finally spoke, your voice strangled and forced, “Good for him. He deserves it.”

“Yeah,” She drags out as she takes her phone back, eyes scanning your face, “The stadium series is going to be his first game, too. You know, the one we’re going to.”

“Not like he’ll know I’m there,” You shrug, chewing on your bottom lip and picking at the loose string on your shirt.

“That’s true,” She hums, “But how do you feel about it?”

Truthfully, it made you nervous. You knew the likeness of him knowing you were there without being told or running into him was slim to none, but it wasn’t impossible. The two of you always had a knack for finding each other no matter what and no matter where, but this time you hoped that the adrenaline of him playing his first game in the NHL trumped that instinct. Or maybe that part of him had dissipated along with your friendship.

“I’m proud of him,” You swallow, pushing your chair away from the table as you stand, “You know how else I feel.”

That night you laid in your bed, scrolling through old pictures and text messages as your mind became plagued with thoughts of one person you wanted to forget. Silent tears rolled down your cheeks as you went down memory lane, and your heart screamed at you to text him. To tell him how proud of him you were and how you always knew he’d make it.

The drafted, unsent text glared at you on the screen, taunting and goading you the longer you looked at it. It wasn’t too long or too short. It wasn’t too sappy but not so emotionless that it seems like you don’t care. What it was, was too formal. It was the text you’d send to a person you barely knew, but you wanted to express your happiness for them. It wasn’t the text you’d send to the person who once knew you better than you knew yourself.

To: Matthew R.

Hey! Just wanted to reach out and say congratulations. I’m super proud of you. I always knew you were going to make it to the big league. Good luck tomorrow :)

You squeezed your eyes shut and counted to three, pressing where you thought the send button was before you shut your phone off and tossed it to the side to be forgotten. If it was meant to be, you gauged the distance correctly and sent it. If it wasn’t, you missed the button and it was still sitting in the box unsent. The result seemed like a problem for tomorrow as you will yourself to finally sleep for the night.

When you woke up that morning, you didn’t bother to check your phone in fear of what you might see. Instead, you chose to spend your time getting ready to leave for the game. It was a matinee game and the group of friends you were with wanted to get there decently early, so you didn’t have much time to check your phone even if you wanted to. You were far too busy running around your apartment and making sure you had enough layers on to keep you warm in the frigid Jersey air.

By the time you were dressed and ready to go, Angela was yelling at you to hurry up because they were leaving and they were going with or without you. The text you’d sent last night was now nothing but an afterthought as you rushed out of the door so you weren’t left behind, though you knew they wouldn’t really leave you. Angela was holding the elevator open for you, playfully narrowing her eyes as you rushed past her.

By the time you were in the car, you had forgotten the fact that you may or may not have sent the text entirely. The four of you started the journey to Metlife, music softly playing through the speakers as everyone talked about what they hoped the outcome of the game was. You didn’t miss the subtle look Angela threw your way, her eyes briefly darting to the orange and blue jersey you were wearing. You said nothing, rolling your eyes as you slipped your phone out and finally scrolled through all of your notifications until you saw three texts that left you frozen.

From: Matthew R.

Can I see you after the game?

Alley said she’ll wait for you after the game if you want, just let her know

Please? I miss you.

You swallowed thickly, your eyes wide as you stared at the messages on the screen. While you expected him to respond if he had gotten it, you hadn’t expected him to respond the way that he did. You were prepared for a simple ‘thank you’ or even one with a little exclamation point attached to it, but you never would have thought he would ask to see you. Truthfully, you didn’t know what to say in response.

While it had been a little over a year since you found out that he stopped talking to you for a girl you never learned the name of, you were still nursing the wound that reopened with a simple whisper of something that reminded you of him. You still found yourself on the verge of tears every time you heard his name even if it wasn’t him they were discussing. You had to mourn the loss of a friendship that once meant the world to you, and you feared that if you opened that door for him, he’d slam it right in your face all over again.

You chose to leave the texts unopened, responding to other messages before you slipped your phone back into your pocket as you reengaged in the conversation. The drive flew by and before you knew it, the four of you were walking through the crowd of people who had decided to tailgate before the game despite the weather. You occasionally stopped and mingled with strangers who already had far too much to drink, but it was an experience you would never forget.

By the time you all had found your seats, it was only fifteen minutes until the game started and you had missed seeing the guys on the ice for warmups. The excitement that was buzzing in the air was absolutely unmatched as everyone was making their way to their seats. Not even the cold was going to ruin the experience for anyone as they hollered and cheered for no reason other than the fact that they were there.

“I think you should do it,” Angela speaks, her eyes focused on the empty rink in front of her.

“Do what,” You furrowed your brows, hugging your jacket to your chest.

“See him after the game,” She shrugs, turning towards you as your eyes widened in confusion, “In my defense, I did try to ask what was wrong, but you didn’t answer me, so I looked over to see what you were looking at.”

You were slightly taken back that she was encouraging you to see him after she was one of the few people who saw what you had gone through. She was always there to pick you up when you would cry over the possibility that you had done something wrong. She was there when you didn’t feel like doing anything other than laying in bed. She had seen it all, and she was the first one to tell you that if she ever got the opportunity, she would knee him in the dick.

“I know you’ll regret it if you don't,” She sighs as she watches the gears turn in your head, “You know that I don’t like him and I never will, but I know that you’ll hate yourself for not going. For not at least seeing what he wants.”

You let your gaze wander back to the center of the stadium as her words rang in your ears. She was right, and you knew that she was. Despite the insecurities and damage his actions had caused, a big part of you wanted to hear what he had to say. You would never stop thinking about the what if’s and the maybe’s if you didn’t take the opportunity right in front of you.

You chose not to respond to her, instead letting yourself fall into conversation with the two girls next to you until it was time for the teams to come out. The second a loud voice came through the speakers to announce the teams, the entire stadium erupted into eardrum bursting screams. The energy that encased everyone was electric, it made the hair on the back of your neck raise in the best way and it was a feeling you’d never forget.

It wasn’t hard to find Matt as he towered over everyone else on the ice, and the second you did it was almost like your heart had fallen right out of your chest. You could see the bright, excited smile on his face even from your seats. Even though you were way too far away for him to see you in the sea of people around you, a small part of you believed he had seen you when he had turned towards your general area.

Matt had gotten into a fight almost the second his skates touched the ice. He didn’t even touch the puck before he had dropped his gloves and was squared up to the Isles Matt Martin. You were gripping Angela’s hand so tightly that she had to tell you that he was okay like it was a mantra, but you were going to be nervous the rest of the game despite the fact that it seemed to work in Matt’s favor. He had, of course, been sent to the penalty box, and when they showed him on the giant screens, you nearly passed out.

He had, for some reason, taken his jersey off and he was wearing nothing but his pads as he sported a mischievous smirk on his face. Your eyes were glued to the screen the entire time he was up there, your lip pulled between your teeth as the noises from everyone faded into nothing but a quiet hum as you looked at him. You knew he liked to wear nothing underneath his pads, it was something he had always done since he was young, but seeing it on the big screen was an entirely different experience.

The game had gone into overtime, but you couldn’t really recall much of what happened since most of your focus was on Matt. All you could think about was texting his sister, telling her that you wanted her to wait for you so that you could see him again. The idea was consuming so much space in your mind that you didn’t even hear your friends calling your name as people began to filter out of the stadium.

“I’m sorry, I zoned out,” You apologized, shaking your head as if you were shaking the thoughts away.

“We can tell,” They all chuckled, “Are you ready to go?”

You can see Angela out of the corner of your eye, her knowing look piercing the side of your face as you take a deep breath before you say, “Yeah, I’m ready.”

You feel a hand carefully grasp your arm, forcing your gaze to your friend as she looks at you with raised eyebrows. The way she’s practically looking through you, like she could tell you already felt like it was a mistake, made you nervous, but you gave her a tight lipped smile and gently shook her hand off before following after the other two.

There were people celebrating from the moment you left your seats until you finally reached the car, their cheers so loud that it was nearly deafening. Regret was bleeding from your chest, practically burning you from the inside out as the others talked with each other. All you could think about was turning back around, calling his sister and telling her that you wanted to see him. Every single what-if possibility plagued your mind, but you stayed silent as you slipped back into the backseat of the car.

You wanted to pretend like you didn’t know why you opted to silently decline Matt’s attempt to potentially reconnect, but you did. You were scared. Scratch that, you were terrified. There were so many unknown possibilities that came with seeing him again, and you weren’t entirely sure you were ready to face that just yet. Then again, you weren’t sure you ever would be.

When you had finally gotten back to the apartment over an hour later, you stripped yourself of your jackets and shoes before announcing that you were going to head to the shower. It was both because you needed a minute to yourself, and because you weren’t ready for Angela to approach you head on about not taking Matt’s metaphorical olive branch. Judging by the way she raised her eyebrows at you as you passed by, she knew that too.

The entire time you were in the shower, the more you began to think about how you had truly made the wrong decision. You had grown up with everyone around you telling you that you can’t let fear dictate your decisions. That if you did, it would only lead to a lifetime or regret and ‘what-if’s. You shouldn’t let the idea of what could happen get in the way of rekindling a relationship that still means the world to you, especially when the outcome could lead to something greater.

The second you were shut in your room, you picked up your phone and hurriedly searched for his contact. Your hair was dripping onto your blanket as you sat on your bed, lip pulled between your teeth as you stared at his name for a fleeting second. Taking a deep breath, you swallowed your nerves and clicked the call button, putting the phone to your ear, but the tone instantly cut and went straight to voicemail.

Panic immediately flooded your veins, but your fingers moved faster than your brain did, and before you could even register it, you were calling him again just to make sure it wasn’t a fluke. It went straight to voicemail again, and you couldn’t stop the anxious tears that lined your eyes as you stared at the ‘Outgoing call’ underneath his name. It seemed as if fate was on your side somehow as a notification from his sister popped up on the top of your screen that simply read ‘Call me when you can, please’.

You wasted no time in calling her, ignoring the way it felt like you were going to throw up as the phone rang in your ear. The longer the call went unanswered, the more it felt like the room was closing in on you, but you heard the ringing stop followed by hushed, incoherent whispers. Your nails dug into the skin of your thigh as you waited for her to say something.

“Hey,” She greeted, a quiet and clipped tone to her voice, “That was fast.”

“Yeah, I was– I was on my phone already,” You nervously chuckled, trying to keep your voice steady and even, “Is everything okay?”

You could hear her sigh over the phone before she starts, “Honestly, I don’t know. When you didn– When Matt found out you never texted me, or him, he kind of shut down. We were supposed to go to dinner, but he said he just wanted to go back to his hotel room and didn’t say anything else. I just– I don’t understand. If you didn’t want to talk to him, why text him to begin with?”

You were slightly thrown off at the directness of her question, but you knew she didn’t have a malicious bite behind it. She always had your best intention at heart, but she was also fiercely protective of her brother. She would go to the ends of the earth for him, and confronting you about something that you started was child's-play for her.

“I’m sorry,” You finally breathed out, the break in your words so clear there was no use in hiding it, “I wanted to, I really did, but I got scared. I tried to call him because I do want to see him, but it went str–”

“Straight to voicemail,” She interrupted, and you can hear the frustration threatening to boil over, “We think he turned his phone off. Listen, you know I love you, so I say this with nothing but, but you’re an idiot. You both are. I know what happened really hurt you, but trust me when I say that both of you need to talk about it. This could’ve been prevented if you were honest with each other instead of hiding. I’m going to send you the address and his room number. Talk to him, okay?”

She doesn’t wait for your response before you hear the line disconnect, but you’re on your feet the second the call was dropped. You quickly grab whatever clothes that you could find, ignoring the way your hair was still sopping wet as you grabbed your phone and darted out of your room. Angela was sitting in the living room by herself, her eyes widening when she took in your slightly frazzled state. However, the moment she saw you rushing to put on your shoes and jacket, she knew exactly what was going on.

You turned to grab the keys to your car off the rack beside the door, but Angela had beat you to it, dangling them between her fingers as she shakes her head, “Let me drive you.

“Good idea,” You nod.

The entire drive to the hotel, she tries to distract you by playing your favorite songs and talking about things to get your mind to calm down, but there was nothing that could ease the flood of nerves washing over you. You were chewing at your bottom lip until it was raw, fiddling with your fingers or picking at your cuticles until they bled as you did your best to stay engaged with her. Though, the nagging feeling that you fucked up your chance to fix everything making focusing almost impossible.

When she pulls up in front of the entrance, your shaky hand hovers over the handle as you hesitate. You were dizzy, nauseous, even more terrified than you had been before. The reality that the outcome of you showing up to his door unannounced was uncertain became so suffocating that you barely heard Angela calling your name from the driver's seat.

“Hey,” She reaches across the center console to grab your free hand, her eyes soft as you turn to meet her gaze, “You’re going to be okay. You can do this. Besides, I’m going to stay around for about twenty, so if you change your mind or need to leave, call me and I’ll pick you up right here.”

Your eyes are glassy, full of uncried tears as you squeeze her hand with gratitude, “Thank you.”

You wipe at your eyes with the backs of your hands before taking a deep breath and stepping out of the car. Your steps were slow and careful as you walked through the glass doors, politely nodding your head at the security guard who gave you an odd look. You knew you looked less than stellar with your damp hair and an outfit you knew didn’t match, but he said nothing as you walked towards the elevators.

The ride up to his floor was tauntingly slow, leaving you to stare at your reflection on the metal doors. You inwardly cringed when you took in the entirety of your appearance, and you tried to remind yourself that he had seen you look much worse. He had been there for every awkward phase, every time a small crush broke your heart, every over dramatic meltdown. He had seen it all, and he had stuck by you even when you didn’t want him to.

You stared at the daunting gold plated numbers on the door, your heart slamming into your chest so roughly that it felt like it was going to break through the skin. Your breathing was uneven and shallow as you closed your eyes, attempting to talk yourself out of turning around and walking away like nothing happened. Finally, you brought your hand to the door and gently knocked in the wood, and the world around you began to spin.

The sound of soft, yet heavy, footsteps padding across the carpet echoed in your head until they stopped and the door in front of you was slung open. The second you met his gaze, you’re certain you forgot how to breathe. He towered over you, much like he always had, and he had signs of a faint bruise forming on his jaw. His hair was falling in his eyes as they dragged the length of your body, wide and uncertain. He was looking at you as if he was trying to gauge if you were real, if you were actually in front of him.

“Hi,” You meekly forced out, your nails digging into the palms of your hands as you stood frozen in the hallway.

At the sound of your voice, Matt instantly reached out to you, tugging you into his chest as his arms encased your body against his own. Your arms instinctively wrapped around his waist, your face smashed against his warm skin as tears rapidly slid down your cheeks. The two of you clung to each other so tightly that it was nearly bruising, almost suffocating, but you didn’t care. The only thing you care about was that he was there, and he didn’t push you away.

He carefully tugs you into his room, letting the door fall closed behind you as he keeps you close. The pads of your fingers are pressing deep into his flesh as you let out a quiet sob, every emotion you had been trying to push back rushing to the surface so quickly it made you dizzy. Matt’s arms flex against your back, pulling your body further into his chest as he whispers your name, his voice quiet and wounded in a way that makes your chest burn.

“You’re here,” He breathes out, almost as if he was still trying to convince himself that you were really there, “I thought– I didn’t think you wanted to see me.”

He moves away from you, his hands lingering on your arms before he retracts them back to his side. The air filling the room was so thick with tension that it felt sticky on your skin as you uncomfortably crossed your arms against your chest. His eyes were dancing along your face, taking in the way your lip was swollen and red, and he knew it was from you chewing at it til you drew blood. It was a nervous trait you’d had since he first met you, but he hated knowing that it was seeing him that likely caused your anxiety.

“I did,” You start, your voice wavering as you wipe away at your cheeks, “I wanted to see you after the game and tell you how proud I am of you. How happy I am that you finally got to play in the big league. How stupid I thought your little fight was.”

He let out a quiet chuckle as you hesitantly met his stare, a slight smile on your face that was similar to his own. His dark eyes were boring into your own, and you suddenly felt a different sort of nerves twisting in your stomach. The way Matt looked at you was part of why you had let yourself be open to the possibility that the feelings you had for him might be shared. He looked at you like you hung the stars in the sky, like the sun rises and sets on you.

You watch as he takes a deep breath as he looks away from you, his usually loud voice barely above a whisper as he asks, “Why didn’t you?”

It was the question you knew was going to come up sooner rather than later, but it still made your breath get caught in your throat and your heart pound even harder in your chest. You knew you had to be honest with him, to tell him the truth about everything because you owed it to him. You owed it to yourself.

“I was scared, Matt,” You started, ignoring the way your stomach was twisting itself in knots, “What you– What happened between us, it made me realize a lot of things, and I was just scared that things wouldn’t be the same. Or maybe you didn’t want them to be.”

While that wasn’t necessarily the entire truth, you couldn’t bring yourself to downright tell him how you felt. Instead, you left traces of your feelings in the way you spoke, in the way you looked at him like he held your entire heart in his hands. Hoping that maybe he would be able to read you the way he always had, but then again, you felt like you wouldn’t be here now if he had. You wouldn’t be standing in front of him, vulnerable and damaged as you waited for him to say something.

“What if I don't want things to be the same,” He shakes his head as he steps towards you, “What if I don’t want to go back to being friends?”

“Matt,” You choke out, your bottom lip wobbling as you let your tears spill all over again and you assumed the absolute worst.

He reaches up to cradle your jaw in his palms, his thumbs wiping away at each tear that fell as he continues, “Do you know how hard it was for me? Pretending like I haven't been in love with you since I was 14? Always having you so close, yet still so far out of reach? I know I fucked up, and I’m the reason we’re in this position, but I couldn’t pretend anymore and I didn’t know what to do. I would take everything back if I could.”

You stared up at him through glassy eyes, his words ringing in your ears as you tried to grasp onto the fact that he said he was in love with you. That he had been for the last almost twelve years. It felt almost too perfect, too cliche for it to be true, but in its own way, it made sense if you really thought about it. Everything would have if you ever truly allowed yourself to be open to the idea that it was ever a possibility.

Matt was growing increasingly nervous the longer you went without talking, and the idea that he had further ruined the already destroyed relationship between you made him sick. He knew confessing his feelings for you was a gamble that, to him, it had a higher chance of risk rather than reward, but he meant it when he said he couldn’t pretend anymore.

“Why didn’t you tell me,” You asked, but you knew why. It was for the same reason you never told him, either.

“Well,” He nervously laughs, “It wasn’t exactly that easy. I never felt like you felt the same way. When we– When I stopped talking to you and I felt like nothing I did even made sense anymore, I knew I needed to tell you, but I told myself you never wanted to see me again. When I saw you back in Calgary, I wanted to then, but you ran away from me and never texted me back, so I accepted that you were gone.”

“Then I texted you,” You sighed, your eyes fluttering closed as regret from last summer washed over you.

“You did, and I thought I finally got my chance, but when you didn’t show up after,” His breathing faltered and his voice wavered, “I think that felt worse than before because I thought it kind of proved that you didn’t want anything to do with me.”

For as long as you had known him, he had always kept his true emotions tucked away where no one could see them. He didn’t like to be seen as weak, as someone who let things get to him, and he often masked that by being overly arrogant and cocky, but now? Now, he was wearing his heart on his sleeve and every thing he was feeling was written clearly on his face. He looked defeated, tired, apprehensive, hopeful.

“I’m so sorry,” You express as your hands come to cover his own, “If I ever even thought you felt the same way, I wouldn’t have done any of that.”

It was truly a slip of the tongue, an accidental addition to what was supposed to be a simple apology, but you didn’t try to take it back. His eyes instantly light up the way they always had before everything happened, a smile toying at his lips as he slowly brings his face closer to your own.

“The same,” He tests, his eyes flicking down to your lips.

“Yeah,” You mutter as you slightly stand on your toes, “I’m in love with you, too.”

Much like everything he always did, Matt jumps head first and slams his lips on yours without missing a beat. You wind your arms around his neck, stretching yourself as far as you can to pour four years of what you thought was unrequited love into one kiss. One of his hands moves to the base of your head, carefully tilting it backwards as his tongue slips into your mouth. The air around you shifted into something more carnal, more achingly desperate as the two of you urgently grasped at each other.

You subtly pull at the strands of hair on the nape of his neck, enticing a groan from him before he hastily bends down to grasp at the backs of your thighs. You’re quick to wrap your legs around his waist, breaking away from his mouth to kiss down his jaw and to his neck as he moves to sit on the edge of the bed. Everything about it was rushed and needy, but neither of you cared. The only thing you cared about was making up for far too much lost time.

“Fuck,” He sighs as you gently scrape your teeth against the skin, “This is the start to teenage me’s wet dream.”

You swifty pull away from him, mouth slightly dropped open in shock before you playfully say, “Only teenage you?”

“Hopefully it 's current me’s reality,” He raises his eyebrow, his tongue darting to swipe across his lips.

“You’re awfully optimistic,” You hum as you lean forward, your lips hovering over his own and he looks at you with hooded eyes.

“How can I not be,” He murmurs, his hands grabbing at your ass, “The girl I’ve been in love with for almost a decade just told me she feels the same way, and she’s making out with me.”

“You’re stupid,” You giggle as you brush your nose against his, “But I love you.”

“I love you so much more.”

The two of you spent the rest of the night fulfilling his so-called ‘teenage wet dream’, many many times, before you ended the night tucked underneath his arm. You talked to him for nearly an hour, him teasing you about supporting the enemy at the game, before you fell asleep knowing that Matt wasn’t like the boys your mom used to warn you about at all. He was much better.

#matt rempe #matt rempe imagine #matt rempe x reader #matt rempe fic #new york rangers

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tiredmamaissy · 1 year

Text

Ralak te Sepwan ieyk’itan: Chapter Two

An Illustrated Collaboration with @zestys-stuff

Masterlist ; Rut/Heat/Knotting Info

🔞 minors, do not interact 🔞

Hyperlinks are attached to specific paragraphs that when clicked on will lead you to its illustration by Ralak's creator @zestys-stuff.

Characters: Metkayina!Ralak (24) x Sully!Omaticaya!Reader (19)

Warnings: nsfw, smut, fluff, angst, profanity, age gap, a lot of sexual tension, size difference/kink, praise kink, heat cycle, scenting, fingering, thigh grinding, cumshot, blood/wounds, recollection of non-con trauma (not heavily described - purely for the plot), let me know if i forgot anything?

Word Count: 8k

Requested: Yes || No

Author’s Note: Satisfaction - Benny Benassi fully took me through this fic. This one's long. It's got fluff, angst, and smut in it. So buckle up. I hope you guys enjoy 🤍

Synopsis: Your family seeks uturu with the Metkayina in the village of Awa’atlu. You have a difficult time adjusting, and are assigned your own special teacher, Ralak.

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Lessons were productive and frequent. You saw him almost daily, except on the days that Tonowari recruited him for his duties as warrior and hunter. Those were the days you dreaded most. The days when he’d traipse in exhausted and banged up. The days that made you start carrying your medicine pouch on your hip like it was a part of your body.

Days like today.

Ralak walks in moments before the eclipse, jaw clenched with a stagger in his step. You can sense the fracture in his spirit, another unpleasant hunting trip further inland. The gash in his shoulder is evidence of it. You rush over to him, hand firmly gripping your medicine pouch.

“Ra-lak!” your words come out broken, voice bouncing with each thud of your feet.

“It is fine.” he begins, head dropping to hide his grimace.

“It is not. Tonowari asks too much of you.” you huff, running over to him so fast you nearly bump into him. “Oh, Eywa. Look at you.” you tippy toe, eyes franticly scanning his bruised torso, hands doing their mighty best to move his body to have a better look.

“I said, it is –”

“Oh, Ralak.” you cut him off, grazing a finger over the inflamed skin, making his teeth grind even harder.

“I’m fine. It is just a –”

“Just. Shh. Let me look... let me help you.” you shush him, your other hand brushing over the deep scrapes on his chest.

It’s laughable that he has to hunch his back just for you to have a proper ‘look’. But you didn’t find it funny. Your brows gather tightly at the sight, bottom lip quivering from the mix of emotions surging through you – anger, sadness, concern. Your innocent touches makes blood rush to his face, staining his cheeks a light tinge of pink. His heartbeat quickens - breath deepening.

His eyes remain locked onto you, quietly admiring your beauty. The way your nose scrunches, the little canines chewing on your bottom lip – the heave of your chest. He didn’t mean to let his eyes wander so low, but now that they were there, he couldn’t resist the urge to stare a little longer. To count the beads on your top.

To count the droplets of water trickling between your breasts.

You scoop up a glob of yalnabark, an omaticayan herb you saved for special times like this, and smear it on his chest. The sudden sting brings him back, snapping his gaze up to your screwed face of concern. It warms his heart, just like it did every time he’d come back from a hunting trip a little too banged up. He loved the way you took care of him. The way your small, gentle hands caressed his battered body with whatever smelly concoction you had stowed away in your pouch.

It's all he’s ever craved. Someone to take care of him. To cherish him. To love him. A simple life, in his marui pod he built with his two hands. Big enough for him and his mate, in front of the ocean so that he could fish in the mornings and then bond with his mate in the evenings. Where he could provide for his mate. For his family. To protect.

A mundane life to many, but a perfect life to him.

But rather, he has been recruited by the olo’eyktan himself, to be his right-hand man, to help lead and teach the upcoming hunters and warriors. He yearns for his old life as a fisherman. Simple. Humble. But shortly after a run in with another clan, Tonowari made the order, and Ralak obeyed. It was at that point in his life that he relinquished his dream of a mundane life.

There’s a part of him, a part that he’s denied attention since he came to adulthood, that yearns for someone like you. Yearns for the possibility that you can provide this simple life for him. A mate. A home. Children. His heart gallops in his chest, slamming against his ribs, but you wouldn’t even know. Not by the way he’s looking at you. But there was one thing he knew for sure, and that was –

His feelings for you are indubitable.

“It is just a scratch.” he says softly, finally finishing his sentence. His hand instinctively rests on your hip as yours search his body for more wounds to smear the herbal concoction on.

“A scratch?” you huff a sigh, beady eyes boring into his before landing on the open gash in his shoulder. Blood trickles down his arm, staining the dark ink pricked under his skin. “You are bleeding. A lot.” you pout, glossy, amber saucers for eyes staring up at him, “…that must really hurt, karyu.”

He crumbles under your touch, gaze softening and body relaxing into you even more. “Do what you need, paysyul [water lily].”

That’s a new one. You smile to yourself and begin cleaning the open wound.

----

Funnily, the only thing you had left to master before your iknimaya was the sign language of the sea people. The ‘finger talk’. Perhaps it was because you had an extra finger, but you found it difficult to create and string together all the signs. Ralak determined that you would need an entire week to learn it, which you couldn’t help but scoff at.

But, he just didn’t want to let go of you so soon.

It was the only thing you practiced outside of the water. It was a refreshing change, to feel the fine, pillowy sand between your toes. To not be wet all the time with hair clung onto your skin. Undoubtedly, it was also easier to focus when this man didn’t have his loincloth stuck to himself, thick bulge on full display.

Most of the days began with you prancing on over, and him guiding you to the pit of sand right outside his marui. Bringing you to your knees with a slight tug of your arms, then kneeling with you. And soon you would be facing one another, in comfortable silence, staring into each other’s eyes. It seemed to be his favourite part of the day. To watch you be brought to your knees in front him, even if its only for a split second before he joined you.

He took each day slowly, starting with the most basic signs. Going over them twice. Thrice. Just to ‘make sure’ you knew them. By the middle of the week, he established his first rule. No talking. From the hellos to the goodbyes, everything must be signed. And if you spoke in casual conversation, he would not answer. This made it even more difficult to poke your figurative finger at him. To find out more about this man before you had to part ways. You did your best to abide by this rule, until you couldn’t ignore the itch anymore.

So, you scratched it.

Ralak balls his fist in the middle of his chest, extending it outwards as he opens it and wiggles his fingers.

“Thank you!” you blurt out, straightening your spine and smiling wide.

Ralak gives you a firm nod, quick to move to the next sign. He sweeps his hands away from his forehead, extending them towards you.

“I see you” your voice fades, almost as if you were saying it seriously. Sensually.

He smiles a little, giving you another nod. A moment of silence fills the space between you two. A moment where he just stares, allowing his eyes to trail your body. The way your knees sink into the sand. Your small hands resting on your thighs. The flap of your loincloth draping between your legs. He wants to sign it back. So badly. But you were still his student. His numeyu [student].

He knew he could do it – maintain his composure, that is. Just until after your iknimaya at least. And then he would ask Jake and Tonowari for your hand. He’s patient. Confident in himself that he could do this. Which is why he had to get you out of the water for a while. To stop your breasts from bouncing with the tide, and your nipples from peeking through your beaded top.

“C’mon, give me something harder. I know those.” you break the silence, repositioning yourself in the dip of your feet.

Ralak blinks a few times, reentering his train of thought. He nods with a slight smile and raises both his arms, hands at ear level with his pointer fingers straightened in the air. He quickly brings them together, allowing for a little space between his fists. He cocks his brow, waiting for your answer.

“Siv-ako?” the word is broken, full of uncertainty.

“Ah. That’s a good girl.” he speaks for the first time, voice extra husky and gruff. He couldn’t fight it – the urge to praise you. Honestly, he’s having a hard time fighting a lot of his ‘urges’ today. He takes a deep breath, hoping to recenter himself, but it only seems makes things worse – making him light in the head.

Oh? Good girl?

The words echo in your skull, heart beating a thump too quick. You can’t stop rub of your thighs; they’re doing it all on their own. You hide your flushed face, looking down at how your lap squirms about, only making your cheeks hotter. Your body seems to be extra sensitive today, skin prickling at the slightest touch – the mere sound of his voice.

“Ralak.” you practically pant, raising your head to look at him. ‘What is the sign for m-a-t-e?’ you sign, fingerspelling the last word.

The glow in your cheeks is catching, heat spreading to the tips of his ears. He swallows thickly, taking quick, shallow breaths to prevent himself from becoming anymore light-headed. He signs a similar sign as ‘friends’, but instead of all four fingers, he uses only two [I made this shit up].

Your lips pucker in understanding as you nod slowly, holding your hands in the air, carefully creating the motions with your fingers. The figurative - or not so figurative anymore - finger comes out to play.

‘Do you have a mate?’ you sign.

He cocks a brow, ‘No’.

‘Why? Not hiding one in your marui?’ you sign back.

His brows gather, yet a smile creeps on his face. He’s impressed with you, signing so well for him. He entertains the conversation – your snarky comments – curious to see where you’re going with this. ‘No.’ he scoffs a little, shaking his head.

You stare at him in silence, waiting for the reason why.

He tilts his head, half lidded eyes turning beady. ‘My trust was broken.’

Your brows lower in inquisitiveness, or perhaps confusion. Maybe you misread what he signed. ‘Broken? Who?’ you sign, stressing on the ‘who’.

His eyelids flutter a little, chewing on the inside of his cheek as he huffs out a sigh. His way of expressing hesitation – uncertainty if he should open-up. To let you in. To tell you. You try reassuring him with your eyes, letting him know it’s alright to tell you. He briefly looks out to the horizon before looking back at you. His hands raise once more.

‘A woman who used me.’

You shake your head, unable to fully understand what he means. You understand the signs, but a woman using him? In what way? To carry her belongings? ‘Use you how?’

Now his true expression of hesitation comes forth. Flattened ears, slumped shoulders and brows so tightly pinched they may unify. If he told you, what would happen? Would you look at him the same? Would you accept his offer after your iknimaya? The event replays so vividly he feels like he’s back in the moment.

The moment where an older woman he trusted manipulated him into touching her, to fondle her, when he didn’t want to. When she made him feel like he had no other choice, like he couldn’t say no, or walk away. Young, naïve Ralak. At the merciless hands of her...

‘Heat’.

And just like that, his expert façade of indifference washes over his face. You can literally see him retreat, the crack in his spirit splitting further apart. Like recalling the memory put him back into the moment to feel the hurt of what he just signed.

Meanwhile, your gears were grinding twice as hard to figure out his single sign. You mirror the motion, fingers bending and overlapping slowly to figure it out. You couldn’t even guess. It looked nothing like any other sign you had seen before. Defeated, you shake your head and shrug your shoulders.

“I-I don’t understand, karyu.”

Eyelids fluttering momentarily, a blank stare bores into your eyes. “Heat.” he says the word whilst gesturing the sign. “She used me for her heat. Many years ago. I was... young.” he begins explaining, trying to maintain eye contact with you as it drifts down to your lap. 'Naïve' he signs the last word.

You hear the words he’s saying. ‘Used’, ‘Young’, ‘Naïve”.

Yet all you could feel was the fire in your own heart. A blaze so big, so menacing it spills over into your chest. Making it cave in on itself. Like hairline fractures are running through each rib, making the foundation of your chest crumble. Jagged edges impaling your heart, the fire spread throughout your entire being.

Why did it hurt so much to hear that this grown man had sexual experience? Why did your heart ache at the thought of him with someone else? Was he always this way? A man willing to calm any na’vi he encounters in heat?

It just slips out.

“So what? Any na’vi woman in heat that you come across gets your help?” you snap, eyes burning from the tears that threaten to fill them.

Eywa, that stung.

It stung this gentle giant so bad that he grimaces. Like really grimaces. His top lip twitches, seemingly from anger. Anger at himself for telling you. He grinds his teeth so hard he may chip one. His head drops, eyes slamming shut to focus on calming that budding tightness in his own chest.

“Y/n” he growls, one of the few times he’s called you by your name.

You’ve come to learn that it usually means he’s frustrated with you. How could he be frustrated with you? He had no right. You can’t hold back the scoff bubbling up your throat, the shake of your head and the roll of your eyes.

“I guess that means you’ll help me when I’m in heat then, won’t you?”

He chuckles under his breath, shaking his head as he finally shuffles to his feet. He towers over your kneeling frame now, exuding the same level of intimidation when you first met. He’s trying his hardest to hold his tongue, but the words slip off it so effortlessly.

“Have you even gotten your heat yet?” he asks patronizingly.

There the tears go, rolling down the swell of your cheeks. Of course, you hadn’t. You were a late bloomer in all aspects of life, even this one.

But why were you feeling so sensitive about all of this? So moody and vulnerable? To the point of tears and condescending comments. It’s silly, really. Prying your nose into this grown man’s life only to get upset with him when he lets you in. Like you were anything special to him for you to be feeling this way.

He had never seen you cry before. Not like this. It melts his hardened heart, softening his exterior with it. You’re still young, still learning. He had let his feelings get the best of him, allowing his composure to break down for a split second. It doesn’t help that he was quite literally looking down at you, towering over your tiny stature.

‘I’m sorry’, he signs. “I should not have said that.”

“Don’t be. You’re r-right. I haven’t.” you sputter, breath hitching from your crying. “Almost twenty with no heat. Just a big fuck up.” you stand on your feet, turning your heel to leave.

“You should not be walking by yourself right now –” he begins, walking towards you, but you only walk away faster. “Tanhì!” he calls, voice cracking.

You stop dead in your tracks and turn back to look at him, tears streaming down your face. “Don’t call me that, Ralak.”

Dark grey clouds crowd the sky, darkening the ambiance. He opens his mouth to speak when a clap of thunder pierces the air. The sound of distant rain grows louder. With his attention averted to the sky, you take your chance and run. All the way back to your family marui as fast as your two left feet can go.

Downpour.

So hard and heavy you can barely see where you’re going. It’s so foggy and hazy that you cross your fingers and hope the marui pod you’re walking into is your own. Yanking back the flap, you duck under the doorframe, dripping wet. Jake and Neteyam stop their dinner preparations and look at you. They see the tears streaming down your face.

“Babygirl?” Jake rushes to his feet, voice frantic.

“Is it Ralak?” Neteyam snarls.

“Just, leave me alone.” you spit, hiding away into your little corner, pulling back your privacy curtain. You slump into your bed, burying your face into the pillow you made from feathers, and cried your eyes out, listening to the pitter patter of the rain on the taut material of your marui.

How fucking embarrassing. You always fuck up, y/n.

How could you be so stupid? To think that there was meaning behind the nicknames, the hugs... the moments. He’s just a teacher trying to tutor his pupil. His pupil that could never get shit right. That’s why he was so patient. So sweet. It was all just an order given by the chief. Not only that, but you were wrong. Totally in the wrong to even ask him such a personal question. But to throw it in his face after he opened-up about it?

Eywa, y/n. You stupid girl.

You feel terrible. Guilt filling your stomach to the brim that you feel queasy. It’s an uncomfortable feeling. So uneasy that you feel like you may throw up. You curl into a ball, clutching your knees as you bring them to your chest to cry.

And cry. And cry. And cry.

Until your eyes are so puffy, so raw that you can barely see. Until there’s two of everything. Your head begins to pound. Thump. Thump. Thump. Your eyes and teeth pulse with it. Yet all that’s running through your mind is Ralak. Ralak. Ralak.

How you feel so bad about what you said, about what happened to him. Not giving him the chance to speak before jumping down his throat. After he’s been nothing but patient with you. Handling you with care and gentle hands. Encouraging you with his words, albeit few. Letting you in when he had built such a tall, thick wall.

Letting you touch him – touch his most intimate tattoo.

The way his core flexed to jerk his hips away from you. The sound of his grunts when he’s a little frustrated. Flustered. Especially when you tend to his wounds. When you run your fingers along his body, searching for more scrapes and ‘scratches’. The way he looks at you when he’s counting your freckles.

When he calls you tanhì.

Whenever the word slipped off his tongue, it always made your face hot. Just like now. Blushing at the mere thought. Cheeks heating up to a critical degree. Body heating up with it. It feels like you’re on fire – a scorching heat radiating from your core to your extremities. It feels like a fever dream.

Or perhaps it’s just a fever. Sick from the rain, as they would say. Making you shiver and shake, yet also kick off the sheet that’s covering your body. Maybe it was the swoosh of the heavy rain, but you couldn’t hear your own thoughts. All you wanted to do was to make things right. To apologize for your shitty behaviour.

You had to do it. Now.

A surge of good ol’ determination rushes through you, bringing you to your feet. You wipe the snot off your face and rush out the tent, Jake and Neteyam calling after you. Saying something about the eclipse beginning. A storm forming. You can’t really hear them. It’s all an echo, reverberating in your skull. You wave them off and make quick strides towards his marui.

You feel dizzy. Like the world is spinning around you but it didn’t matter. You’re too focused on making things right. Getting rid of this queasiness. Fixing the one good thing you had for yourself in this wetland. Sand spills between your toes, you can feel it. You’re here.

“Ralak!” you try to shout, only for it to come out as a hoarse cry. “Ralak!”

You look around through blurred vision, the ocean is empty. Of course, it is. The ripple of raindrops piercing the water, the furious push and pull of the tide, the waves that crash violently into the shore – it’s storming. Head snapping to the right, you find that his marui is dark, seemingly with nobody home.

Where is he?

Eyes falling on your own feet, you catch sight of deep footprints in the wet sand, leading inland under the tall mangroves. Tracking the impressions, you find yourself standing at the opening of a cave, tucked away deep into the webs of mangrove roots. A hidden spot, with a lake, lit up by the bioluminescent fauna stuck to the stalagmites hanging from the ceiling. When you see him, it’s like your vision clears. Crystal clear. He’s –

Bathing.

Standing thigh deep in the water, wet hair stuck to his chest. His bioluminescent freckles twinkle brightly, reflecting against the water’s surface. His ears are tucked in, relaxing against his skull, eyes lidded and heavy. Tattoos bold and prominent, they accentuate his muscular physique. Gravity of pandora in full motion, water droplets dribble down his body. Down his jaw. His chest. His stomach. His –

Oh, fuck.

You tell your eyes to move. To look away. Close. Anything. But they don’t. They stare. Taking in every detail of his thick, half-hard cock, partially submerged in the water. You come to the realization of how he never actually showed you his full tattoo, as the ends of it encircled the base of his length. Eywa, he’s huge. You swallow thickly at the sight, cheeks growing even hotter.

“Ralak.” a whisper parts your lips, eyelids fluttering wildly before you can pull your eyes away. “Sorry. I-I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“No need.” he mutters, continuing his bath.

He knew you were standing there all this time. He could sense you. Smell you. And Eywa, it took every bone and fiber in his body to maintain the sliver of composure he has left. He isn’t shy about his body and honestly, didn’t mind if you saw.

He turns to you, flicking his gaze up to meet yours, pupils blown. “You should go home, y/n.” he says as calmly as he can.

“Ralak. I’m sorry for what I said to you. I had no right.” you say, turning your head to look away from his body. It only made things worse for you, making the wooziness unbearable. Making you struggle with your words. “I-I don’t know why I got so upset. I’m not sure –”

“You are sensitive right now. I am not... upset.” he states, accent thick as tree sap.

“What?” you blurt out, looking back at him as you walk into the cave.

Sensitive? What does he mean?

“Y/n. You should go home.”

Hearing your name makes your heart sink. You wish you never told him to stop calling you tanhì. “What do you mean?”

“Look. I am sorry about what I said to you, y/n. But you need to go home.” he says through gritted teeth, as if he were having a hard time withholding his 'anger'.

“No. No. Ralak. I-I’m sorry, too. I just – I want to make this right. I-I feel like I can’t even think clearly right now. But I know that I made a mistake. I’m sorry.” you blubber out, entering the water to walk closer to him.

“Y/n” he growls, stepping back a little. “Please. You said it yourself. You cannot think clearly.”

“Ralak.” you croak, tears welling up in your eyes once more.

Blown pupils peer down at you, eyelids so heavy they look like they may close. “Go.”

Your bottom lip trembles, heart aching from him shooing you away. It feels like your throat is closing, vision blurring so badly that you could barely see him. You try to say the words, only for them to catch in your throat.

‘I was jealous.’ you sign, tears flowing down your cheeks. ‘I was wrong. I am no one to you to be upset with you for being with another.’ you string the words together to the best of your abilities, unsure if they even make sense.

“Oh, y/n. It is not as you think. I have not... given myself to anyone.” he struggles to explain, the heat of your body transferring to his. “Please, do not cry.” his voice falters, brows lowering, blown pupils flickering as they search your puffy face.

Relief. Radiating through your body. Your body yearned for him now, more than ever. For him to be your first. For you to be his first. To mate.

“Then w-what?” the words dislodge from your throat.

“She took advantage of me. Coerced me. But never farther than this” he raises his hand, moving his fingers.

“Karyu. I’m so sorry. I-I would never –” you cry, gripping two of his fingers.

“Shh. It is alright. I’m sorry, too” he hushes you, bringing your hand to his chest.

“I feel so... so overwhelmed right now. I don’t u-understand it.” your teeth begin to chatter as you finally close the gap between your bodies, slumping into him for one of his hugs. “I think have feelings for my karyu.”

He embraces you, holding you close to his body. “And I have fallen for my numeyu” he chokes out, having a hard time catching his own breath.

Your head snaps up, glossy, panicked eyes glaring up into his. You have a hard time processing what he’s saying, all you can see is the strain on his face as he tries his hardest to remain calm.

“Mawey. Mawey [calm]. Everything is heightened for you now. You’re alright.” he hums shakily, rubbing your back.

“I feel... s-so weird, so hot.” you hiccup, taking those deep breaths that you normally take when you hug him, overfilling your lungs with his scent.

It smells so good today. So good you wish you could bathe in it. Coat your body in his scent. You rub your face into his chest, trying to smear it on your skin. It calms you down, steadying your galloping heart and slowing your shaky breaths.

“Tanhì.” he heaves a strained sigh, heavy lidded eyes squeezing tightly.

“Lak.” you breathe, body pressing into his.

“Do you want me to?” he whispers, arm snaking around your waist to bring you closer.

“Hm?” you purr into his chest, rubbing your thighs together.

“Do you want me to help you when you get your heat?” he gruffly pants the words.

This morning replays in your head. All the hurtful words you said to him and the question that came shortly after.

‘I guess that means if I’m in heat then you’ll ‘help’ me then, won’t you?’

“Yes, please.” you exhale, head nodding in his chest.

With that, he holds your trembling body closer, allowing himself to take a full breath, filling his lungs with your scent. Your pheromones. This is the first time he’s letting himself savour them. He’s been picking up your scent all day, trying his hardest not to give into his primal urges to scent you himself – to mark you as his. Eywa, it’s divine. It’s so sweet, and fruity. Nothing like the fruits of the sea.

His scent grows stronger, his body simply responding to yours. His pheromones make you feel feverish, skin prickling from the fingertips that graze your waist. Your heart thumps wildly between your ribs just as your double vision sets in. A sharp heat shoots down your spine, and pools in your core. Soon you’re panting and sweating in his arms, shaking uncontrollably as you squeeze your trembling legs tighter.

It frightens you.

“Ralak. I-I don’t know w-what’s – happening to me. What’s – what’s happening to me?” you blubber, voice full of panic.

“It is your heat, tanhì.”

“My h-heat?” you squirm in his chest, rubbing your body all over his – unknowingly scenting him.

“Mm-mhm.” he hums, fingers working at the knot of your loincloth. “Is this okay?”

“Yes. Yes.” you moan softly, legs parting to help him take the soddened cloth off you.

Once the knot comes undone, the cloth floats freely in the water, drifting away from you. In one swift movement, he lifts you up and wraps your legs around his waist. Another breathy moan parts your lips, your clit finally getting the attention it’s been swelling for. You instinctively cling on to him, snaking your arms around his neck.

He supports your body with one hand under your upper thigh, whilst his free hand cups the back of your head, fingers interlacing with your hair. For a moment, you both indulge yourselves in each other’s scent, rubbing your noses into one another’s neck. It’s almost suffocating. So suffocating that you both pull up simultaneously to gasp for air. Pupils completely blown, you stare into each other’s eyes, panting shakily – lips inching closer and closer together.

He lingers there, flushed lips parted, waiting patiently for your move. For your touch. For your command. You couldn’t take it anymore. The tension is strung too tight that you can feel it in your core, about to snap. Your foreheads touch, noses rubbing together, lips brushing against one another.

“Kiss me.” you mewl needily.

Before you know it, his lips crash into yours roughly, almost bruising them. He’s so hungry for you. For your touch. He’s wanted this for so, so long. Peak of your heat quickly approaching, he wills himself to regain his control. To take it easy with you on your first time.

“My paysyul.” he pants into your mouth, tongue swiping against your bottom lip before sucking it into his mouth.

You hum with fervour, allowing your tongue to explore his mouth – to intertwine with his. His fingers untangle from your hair, and cup your cheek, pulling you in closer to deepen the kiss. Soon you’re sharing the same breath, making everything even more hazy.

A large hand slides down your neck and grips it gently, earning him a sudden, breathy moan. Legs tightening around his waist, your hips stutter on their own, desperately trying to find something hump against.

Reading your needy body language, his hand quickly moves down your chest, pulling up one side of your beaded top to reveal your round breast and peaked nipple. He rolls it between his fingers as gently as possible, sending little shocks throughout your breast. The sensation sends your hips into a frenzy, gliding your clit back and forth over each ab muscle.

“Ugh – oh!” you cry out, jaw locking as your mouth hangs agape. Your wetness is overflowing, coating his stomach in a thick layer of slick. The jerk of your hips becomes easier, gliding up and down his stomach even faster. Your teeth click together, eyes watering as you desperately chase the budding feeling in your core.

The little, filthy sounds coming from your mouth only rile him up more, ebbing away more of his restraint. His cock springs up, swollen head smacking against your thigh, quick movements providing just enough friction on his tip, making his hips stammer too. Soon your bodies fall under the trance of your heat, desperately grinding into one another.

The urge to touch, no – to be inside you is overwhelming. He wants to know how your gummy walls feel around his cock. But he knows that your too small to take him, that he would have to stretch you out first. Prepare your little body so it wouldn’t hurt.

His hand works its way from your breast, down to your stomach where he lingers for some time. His fingers play in the dip of your navel as they slide between your sticky pelvis and his stomach, parting your folds carefully. Hips snapping back, you open yourself up to his touches, resting your chin in the dip of his collarbone.

“This okay?” he asks quickly, fingertips finding the bundle of nerves at the peak of your slit.

“Mm-mhm! Please -” you whine lengthily, frustration so pent up it leaves you breathless.

“Breathe, tanhì.” he hums, fingers rubbing tight circles into your clit.

You gasp for air, a cool sensation filling your lungs. It feels so good – so much better than the way you do it before you go to sleep. You try hard to focus on the budding feeling in your core, to chase it so you can finally know what an orgasm feels like. But this was just another thing that you struggled with.

“Used fingers before?” he huffs in your ear, sliding two fingers down to your entrance.

“T-tried it... once.” you admit timidly.

“How many?” he rasps, pulling a finger back into his palm, leaving only one to prod at your slit.

His strong scent disorients you, leaving you in such a befuddled state that you ignore his question and snuggle into the crook of his neck.

“Tell me, tanhì. Quickly.” he pants.

“One.” you mumble, grazing your canines on his pulsing throat as you suckle on his skin, leaving behind a bruise-like mark. Surely one of his is equivalent to almost two of yours. He knew that this was going to hurt if he didn’t take his time with you and let you fully adjust to something inside you.

“Tell me if you feel pain.” he grunts, sliding his finger inside you to the first knuckle. You let out a little whimper, walls clamping tightly around his finger. “Feel okay?”

You nod franticly, burying your grimaced face into his chest. “Mhmm.” You wiggle your hips, desperately trying to take more of him inside you. He follows your movements, ensuring not to slide it in any further just yet. “M-more please”

“Patience, tanhì”

You’ll admit, it burned a little. It was the biggest stretch you’ve had so far, but the slickness of your heat made it so that his finger slid in easily. “Please. It. It feels... feels weird, Ralak.”

“I know, I know.” he coos, feeling your walls relax around his knuckle. “I'm going to make it go away, take a breath for me.”

You inhale deeply, just as you would before a breathing lesson, holding it deep in your stomach rather than your chest. He slides his finger inside you to his second knuckle, keeping it there while you adjust some more. Your grip around his neck tightens, fingernails digging into his turquoise skin just as you release your breath - blowing hot air onto his chest. The way his finger stretches you out brings tears to your eyes. Tears of ecstasy - of satiation. Satiating an itch that you weren’t even aware of.

“More!” Desperation plagues your trembling voice.

He knows better than to listen to the words that come out your mouth and listen to what your body is saying to him instead. It’s not his first time dealing with a na’vi in heat, albeit by force. It feels so similar, the influence your heat has on him. But yours is so much more intense. Feelings of uncertainty creep in, muddling with all the other emotions he’s trying to deal with. He didn’t want to be used again.

She’s not her. He reminds himself, persevering through the hesitancy. “Ready?”

“Yes. Yes Ralak.” You hold on to him tighter - closer.

Your pheromones already had him in a trance, gritting his teeth just so he could maintain his composure. He’d never been influenced by pheromones like this - so strong and potent. Perhaps it’s because it’s your first heat, or maybe it’s because you’re the na’vi he has the urge to protect most – to mate with.

He finds himself taking deep, long breaths. The kind he takes before going spear fishing in the depths of the ocean. Your scent fills his head, making him woozy. Blood rushes to his face, turning it hot and flushed – stained with a tinge of pink. Oh, to make a gentle giant like Ralak blush.

He exhales as he gently slides the rest of his digit inside of your slippery pussy. You both groan in unison, just as your tightness clamps down around his finger - your nails scraping down his back. You’re so, so wet that your glossy, slick coats his knuckles, dribbling down his hand to his wrist.

“Shit.” he lets out a curse, something he rarely does. “How are you this wet?”

He really shouldn’t compare, but he’s never seen a na’vi in heat so soaked. You couldn’t help it really, your feelings for him are so strong that they feel overwhelming at times. Times like right now, where your feelings overflow and have nowhere else to go but between your legs, making a mess all over your thighs. “S-sorry” you pant, your soft, petite body shuddering in his grasp.

“Never apologize for that.”

The first curl of his finger earns a loud, sudden moan from your throat, just as his grip on the fleshiness of your thigh tightens. His cock is so painfully hard, turning veiny and almost blue. All he wants to do is replace his finger with his cock but, he can’t. Not when you’re this tight. The way your gummy walls grip so tightly around his finger makes it hard to even move it.

“Ra-lak” the word momentarily catches in your throat just as he curls his finger once more.

“Mm?” He hums, eyes squeezed shut, brows gathering.

“Ngh – feels... s-so good. Please.” you beg quietly, squeezing his waist with your legs as your body tries to shove his finger deeper inside you.

“There it is.” he grunts, listening to your body’s commands.

He roughly furls and unfurls his finger inside you, rubbing the pad of his fingertip against the warm, spongey part of your cunt. Each hook of his finger works out a squelching noise, and a breathy mewl from your mouth. Soon you’re panting into his chest, trying to keep your soft moans to a minimum as he picks up the pace.

There was really no point, as the more he fucks you out with a single finger, the more your moans lose their softness. His ears perk up higher and higher as the volume of your sweet, filthy moans grow louder and louder, making his rock-hard cock twitch against your thigh.

Your sweet spot swells with pleasure, moans becoming deeper and strained. He knows you’re close. So close that you were going to cum on his finger any minute, just by the way your pussy walls clench tightly around his finger. He feels the tension in your body, the way it seizes up, trying to fight the unbearable heat pooling in your pelvis. His dazed eyes open, scent of your pheromones wafting up his nose as he lowers his head, mouth next to the shell of your ear.

“Don’t fight it.” he whispers.

Your moans quiet down into low, laboured pants as you try to relax your tensed muscles. You’re having a hard time, and he can sense it.

“Let it happen, my paysyul. I'm right here.” he hums, using his thumb to rub loose, slow circles into your puffy clit.

“Mmmn! I-I can’t. Ra – ah haah, ngh! ‘ts t-too much – too much!” your shaky breaths hiccup as you shake your head side to side in his chest.

“Cum for your karyu.” he encourages you, tightening the circles and picking up the speed of his thumb.

Of course, your karyu would be the one to teach you how to cum.

The sound of his husky voice in your ear sends you over the edge – heated coil unravelling, stomach muscles relaxing. It’s as if your body were responding to his command all on its own. This foreign feeling was just too good – too euphoric. You pull up suddenly from his chest, gasping for air as your entire body convulses in his grip.

“Oh, f-fuck!” you shout, tears streaming down your face.

“There you go. Good girl.” he grunts low in his chest.

He relishes in the quick flutter of your pussy walls around his finger. The way your cum dribbles down his arm. The way you’re staring into his eyes with your mouth open, releasing silent screams into the air. He can feel the beads of precum oozing from his tip, dripping down his pulsing length and onto his swollen balls.

He keeps his finger buried deep inside you, waiting patiently for you to come down from your high. Your sputtering broken words into his ear, body going limp in his grip. He could tell it was time to get you comfortable for the long night ahead. Ralak moves quickly through the storm, bringing you up to his marui.

A whine splits your lips when he tenderly pulls his finger out of you, laying you down on his bed. It’s so warm and cozy, soft sheeting fluffed up around your shivering body. You give in to the pull of your eyelids, resting them for a couple seconds. Ralak settles himself behind you, pressing his body against yours and wrapping his arms around your waist.

It feels so good, so right. The way his body completely envelopes yours, acting as your own personal shield. You back yourself up onto him, rubbing the swell of your ass on his cock – glossy from his precum. Your body moves on its own, a hand sliding down his crotch to wrap your fingers around his girth.

Fingertips barely touching one another, you stroke half the length of his cock, feeling it warm up in your hand. His breath is heavy and hot, right in the shell of your ear. He nuzzles his face into your neck, peppering wet kisses down to your shoulder. Eywa, how you wanted him to be inside you, filling you up and making you feel full.

There’s a dull ache, deep in your womb. So deep that only something this big could make it go away. Every bone and fiber in your body is screaming for you to shove his cock inside. It’s so loud you can’t ignore them anymore, the need to be fucked.

“Lak.” you mumble, half awake.

“Mm?” he hums with fervour, cock finally getting the attention it’s been begging for.

“Want you inside.” you breathe, positioning his swollen tip to your entrance.

His hips snap back, pulling himself away from you. “Not today.”

“Please.” you whine, backing up on him once more. “My body n-needs you.”

“It will hurt, tanhì.” he mumbles between kisses, holding your hips to push them away. “Another day.”

You didn’t want to take no for an answer. Your body pined for him to stretch you out and fill you up. Your back arches as you slump your head back into his shoulder, opening your neck to his kisses. “Please, please.” you beg,

“Not when you are in heat. Not when we are not mated.” he groans, reluctantly pulling his aching cock away from your soft pussy lips.

“F-fuck. I can’t take this. I can’t. It’s – it’s too much. Please, Ralak.” you whine, squirming around from the sensation in your womb, lying on your back.

“Mawey. We will get through this.” he coos, sliding his hand down your stomach to your cunt.

Instinctively, your legs spread, welcoming the fingers that slide up and down between your folds. He slides a finger in easily, hooking it right into the gummy part of your heat, slowly massaging circles into it. He grinds his cock into your thigh, coating it with his own slick as he works yet another orgasm out of you.

“Just like last time” he coaches you through it, your breathy moans increasing in volume. “Relax, and let it happen” his words bounce with the thrust of his hips, chasing his own climax against your slickened thigh. Your walls contract, just as they did when you were about to cum. And then you lose it, walls suddenly relaxing around his digit.

“Again. Listen to your body.” he grunts, planting an encouraging kiss behind your ear.

Focusing on the budding feeling, your hands grip his veiny forearm, using it as leverage to hump his hand. You let go, allowing your body to take over. Head sinking back into the softness of the bed, you grind erratically into his hand.

“I’m close – s-so close!” you cry out, eyes popping open as your body tenses.

“Good girl, ride it out.” his voice is thick with desire, shaky from the buck of his hips. He’s on the edge, forcing himself to wait for you to cum before he does. Your hips lift in the air, his hand following with them. “Go on, let go.”

“Ra – lak! Cumming! Cumming!” you release a sudden, strained whine.

Just as your pussy walls flutter around his finger, he quickly slides a second one in, masking the pain of the stretch with the pleasure of your orgasm. With two fingers deep inside your cunt, your body convulses from satiation and pleasure, feeling stuffed to the brim.

“That’s it.” He growls low in his chest, eyes squeezing shut as he gives your thigh a few hard thrusts. Guttural noises picking up in volume and bass, he listens to his own body, spurting his warm, thick cum all over your thigh and stomach. He opens his eyes, to see a jaded look on your face as you calm down from your heat.

“I love you, my tanhì” he mumbles in your ear, fingers still inside you.

“I love you, my karyu.” you barely get out, eyelids falling shut.

He leans over you, using his free hand to grab the cloth next to his bed to clean you up with. He knew better than to take his fingers out of you, and to think that this was all over. It was only the beginning of a long night ahead.

And oh Eywa, it was.

Every few hours, you’d wake up sweating and squirming from your heat, backing yourself up onto Ralak’s warm body, begging for his touches. He’d be quick to oblige, curling the fingers that remain inside you for the entire night, making you cum as many times as you wanted. The only thing he wouldn’t give into were your pleas to be fucked. That was one thing he maintained his composure about.

----

“Y/n. For the love of Christ, you better tell me that the storm held ya up last night.” Jakes voice rings in your ear, waking you up.

Oh shit.

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cuntinies · 24 days

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summary: pregnant! reader gets upset at her rapid weight gain due to the pregnancy so abby wants to kiss it all better

warnings: pregnant female reader, mentions of weight and size, mentions of numbers in weight, slight angst, crying, kissing, slight proofread, abby being sweet. please lmk if i miss any.

you can't help but let out an exaggerated groan. in abbys wife pleaser and her baggy blue gingham boxer briefs, you stare at your pregnant self in the mirror in front of you. you knew you were going to gain weight when you found out that you were pregnant with your little girl, but not so soon. youre 6 months in, and your belly already stretching out your top and bottoms, making your outfits snug to your body. your chest got a bit fuller from last time, and your hips have filled up.

abby looks up from her laptop, the blue screen glowing onto her face. her reading glasses perched right on the tip of her nose and her blonde locks free from her usual braid. the shared bed faces the mirror as she looks at you through it, a confused but cutely painted look on her face.

"what's the matter?" abby asks, taking off the glasses to get a good look as to why you decided to loudly announce whatever was bothering you. she truly couldn't hold in her giggles when your patience has decreased these past weeks. this morning, you got upset while looking at the tulips abby helped plant with you (mostly just her) a couple of weeks ago, weren't growing as fast as you wanted to.

pushing your hair out of your face, you groan again. "the doctor said i gained 8 lbs since i’ve seen her but i think it's more..". your hands travel down to rub your tummy. you avoid eye contact with abby, feeling her eyes staring at your face as you look down at your baby bump. she nibbles the inside of her lip, trying to think of what to say because she doesn't like when you talk about yourself like that. "i think you look, beautiful babe."

"nuh uh. youre saying that because i’m your wife and i’m carrying our baby, so that doesn't count" you raise your voice as it starts cracking, your face feeling hot and tears start welling in your eyes. abby immediately notices the change of tone in your voice. she knew you had a hard time with changes, and the baby was a huge change for both of you. abby would of course try her best to make you feel better but there's so much she could do before you get into your head.

"c'mere," abby says, closing her laptop and setting it aside on the nightstand. you sulk over to the edge of the bed, playing with a loose thread. you feel abby playfully kick your hand. "babe, c'mere. why are you so sad?" she asks, trying to bring your attention back to her but you are just being so stubborn.

"it's just everything is happening so fast and i’m getting huge and it's scaring me and i’m just being a bad wife because all you hear me do is complain about myself," you sniff through choked sobs, finally taking a look up at her. tears slowly fall down your cheeks and some snot trickles down your nose. abby wants to laugh at how cute you look but she holds it in, giving you a little sad smile. she opens her arms invitingly, the way her black t-shirt fits so nicely on her by accentuating her biceps. you can't say no to that. you shuffle closer to her before you lay your whole weight down onto her body. she wraps her arms around you, shifting so that your back is on her chest, leaving room for you to breathe comfortably.

"first of all.." abby starts saying softly in your hair before kissing you on top of your head. "you’re not a bad wife." she places her head on top of yours, reaching her hands down onto your swole belly. you cringe, feeling how she traces the light stretch marks that litter your skin. "second of all.." another kiss but near your ear this time, "you're not huge. you're carrying our sweet girl. i don't like hearing you tell yourself that." her hands find yours, tangling into them as she holds them. you huff, not knowing what to say.

"i’m sorry.." you whisper, taking one of her hands and playing with her fingers. tracing her nail bed to her palm where you trace the lines like a little mase. abby shakes her head a bit before wrapping the same hand up on the side of your head. the way she can just manipulate you however she pleases makes you instantly melt into her palm, looking up at her. she smiles down at you, wiping the bit of mucus that was on your upper lip. she leans her head down, not caring about your tear-stained, booger face, as she places a soft but deep kiss on your lips. abby tilts her head, slightly tightening the grip she has on your head as she slips her tongue inside your mouth. you can't help but let out a soft gasp, allowing abby to take whatever. she places one last peck before licking her lips as she watches your cute disheveled face, lips glossy, softly panting and cheeks blushing.

"i don't want you to apologize for anything, ok baby?" abby says, caressing your cheek with her thumb. all you can do is nod, snuggling your head into her neck and wrapping yourself within her. she smiles, gently reaching over to the nightstand to turn off the bedside lamp. abby caresses your back until she feels your breathing regulates into a soft rhythm.

a/n: tysm for all the love these past days! idk how to end these. lmk if you all like this 🙂‍↕️ inbox is open

#abby anderson fanfic #abby tlou #abby anderson fluff #abby anderson x reader #abby the last of us #abby anderson #abby anderson x female reader #lesbian #wlw post

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writing-fanics · 3 months

Text

Lucifer Morningstar x Reader

[Before Lucifer got cast out of Heaven]

[prompt by: @saturncodedstarlette

[warning: self-harm: major angst: blood: mentions of panic attack]

You were angry and heartbroken, and felt betrayed by someone you thought to be yoursoulmate. Feeling used by them, having just found out that Lucifer and Lilith are together.

You stormed over to Lucifer outside the gates of the garden, hands balled up into a fist. “You lied to me!” You shouted angrily, and he turned to look at you.

Lucifer who you thought to be your soulmate, a red string tying the two of you together. Your face red and tears rubbing down your cheeks, “You told me that I am your soulmate!” You screamed, and he just stated at you almost annoyed that you were, taking his time away from being with Lilith

You guarded the gates of Eden, and Lucifer flirted with you and toyed with you just so he could see Lilith. “Just get back to that other woman!” You were angry fuming and felt used.

He just stared at you arms folded across his chest, as he raised an eyebrow and scoffed. “Don’t you understand? You’re the other woman.” said Lucifer, looking at you.

You shook your head vigorously, your frustration apparent. "No no!" you exclaimed, your voice rising in anger. "You're supposed to be with me!" You pointed in the direction of the garden, your true form as a seraphim revealing itself with multiple eyes on your head and wings.

Your figure seemed to grow in size and stature, towering over him and filling the space around you with an awe-inspiring presence.“She’s the other woman!” you shouted, glaring at him.

Lucifer rolled his eyes and saw Lilith in the distance. She had heard the commotion and was walking closer to the gate. "Why can't you understand?" he said, looking down at the ground and clenching his fists. He glanced over at her for a moment.

“It was a mistake, I would never be with you—” He said, Your entire body froze in shock, and you stood there motionless with your arms falling limply to your side. Your lips slightly parted, forming an 'O' shape as you struggled to comprehend what he had just said.

As soon as the words left his mouth, you could see the regret in his eyes. He looked like he wanted to reach out towards you, but then suddenly pulled his hand back and turned away. He entered the garden and walked away with Lilith, leaving you alone.

You couldn't help but fall to your knees, gripping your chest where your heart is. It hurt so much - not just the physical pain, but the emotional pain of being betrayed. You had broken the rules to let him into the garden, thinking that he cared for you. But this is how he repays you - by ripping out your heart and leaving you to suffer.

The words seemed to rip your heart out of your chest, leaving you feeling completely devastated. As tears began to trickle down your cheeks, you couldn't help but sniffle and sob softly. Your lower lip quivered as you looked at him, trying to make sense of the situation and find a way to process the overwhelming emotions coursing through you.

He used you. He fucking used you just so he could be with Lilith, he toyed with your emotions your feelings and your desires. To get what he wanted in the end. You saw a future and hoped he'd be there to fill that empty spot, in your immortal life. Be he saw as nothing but a obstacle, for his true goal. Lilith.

Your angelic weapon dug into your flesh drawing yellow blood. As you tried to carve the L off of your hand, the inital of your soulmate. That was on your hand when you were first made by angels. Your very own soulmate wanted nothing g to do with you, he never wanted to be with you. Only wanted to use you for his own selfish needs.

Your wound would just heal and the initial stayed, as much as you tried to dig it out. Nothing, it would appear again and again. You screams and cries of frustration being heard by Lucifer and Lilith, but he did nothing just sat there with his lover underneath the tree.

You wailed, staring yo at the sky and sobbing. Yellow blood seeping from the gash in your hand, you couldn't breathe unable to take a full breath. All you wanted was for Lucifer to comfort you, but he didn't. Your vision started to blur as you breathed heavily, gripping the fabric of your clothes.

“I would never be with you”

You whimpered, curled up on yourself, and cried. You didn't know how long you were there for and eventually passed out. When you opened your eyes, you saw a bracelet that you had given to Lucifer a while ago. You stared at it blankly for a moment, not noticing someone approaching you from behind. Suddenly, you felt cold and shivered.

As you turned around, you heard a giggle coming from behind you. Suddenly, the grass around you withered and died, and an ominous presence leaned over you. "Has that little dreamer shattered your heart?" the voice asked as you looked up to see the personification of evil itself - your sister, Roo. She had a Glasgow smile on her face as she stared down at you.

#lucifer morningstar x reader #Lucifer x reader #hazbin lucifer #lucifer hazbin hotel #x reader #fanfic #angst #hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar

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thebimbopalace · 2 months

Text

ᡣ 𐭩 blurb: finals week has put you through the wringer but luckily your handsome, wonderful, caring boyfriend has a special treat for you.

wc: 1k

ᡣ 𐭩 tags: fluffy fluff, sfw, older bf!nanami kento x fem!reader, established relationship, age gap (reader: early twenties, nanami: late twenties), reader’s in college, feminine pet names, teeny angst, one kiss, self-indulgent cause i wanna be loved like this

"keep those eyes closed hun," kento's honeyed voice hits your eardrums as his large hand envelopes yours. he guides you to. . .god knows where, all you know is that you're outside. the soft, calming breeze flows through your hair gently blowing your flowy pink spring dress behind you.

his eyes scan your beautiful ensemble and he thanks whatever deity that's in the sky that you happened to walk into his life one friday afternoon. "are we there yet ken?" you inquire excitedly as you tighten your grip on his hand. he smiles at your excitement "almost," as he tries to stifle a chuckle at your cuteness.

his free hand goes the the small of your back moving you in front of him as you both walk to this destination he spoke of earlier. his expensive cologne invades your nostrils and your body immediately relaxes at the close proximity. "can you at least tell me where we're going?" trying to coax it out of him. "then it wouldn't be a surprise now would it?"

a pretty pout graces your glossed lips as you turn your head to scrunch your already closed eyes at him in a glare. "over here pretty girl," kento teases noticing you turned your head in the wrong direction. you follow the sound of his voice and turn your head in the correct direction of his face, adorable pout still adorning your lips.

"don't pout baby, i promise you'll love it," he chuckles as he presses a quick kiss to your temple. your pout is replaced by a small smile that effectively melts kento's heart into a puddle of goo. you let him lead you to this mystery he's set up. the walk is silent as you take in the sounds of nature. the rustling of the grass as the light air rakes through it, the birds chirping along with the trickle of water in the distance.

you haven't felt this calm in months. college has been a thorn in your side for a while and now that you took all your finals, you're agonizing over your final grades, wanting nothing more than to pass. kento knows this. he's seen how hard you've worked. hours of studying, late nights, and those stressed tears that broke his heart with each stream down your cheeks.

he'd catch each escaped drop with the pads of his thumbs as you were nestled in his lap in a comforting hold. in his arms, you knew nothing would harm you, especially sunday 11:59 pm due dates. and when you submitted your last final exam yesterday, he knew he had to do something big for his special girl. his only girl.

"okay, stop," he utters and your feet come to a halt. you feel the sun kissing your skin as you stand next to kento waiting with nervous-excited butterflies fluttering in your stomach. "open your eyes, baby," he whispers. his candied voice filling your senses increasing the jittery feeling in your gut.

you open your eyes, pupils adjusting to the sunlight and what you see takes your breath away.

a picnic. a beautiful picnic assembled on a vast green field beside multiple tall apple trees. a white plaid picnic blanket is laid flat with various foods. gourmet sandwiches arranged scrumptiously on a sliver oval platter, a full charcuterie board that includes various deli meats, crackers, cheeses, and fruits, a bottle of wine alongside two long-stem wine glasses, and a circle-shaped frosted cake with 'you did it pretty girl!' written in red icing.

not to mention the big bouquet of flowers that lay next to the picnic basket. your favorite flowers at that.

"kento," you mutter softly in disbelief. he really knows how to take your breath away. warmth spreads through your cells, filling you with affection for your lover. no matter how many times he surprises you, no matter how many times he shows you how much he loves you, it never fails to make you tear up.

he pulls you smoothly into his embrace, wrapping his strong arms around your waist. you bury your face into the crook of his neck. "wha—when did—," "last week," cutting you off. "i know college has been putting you through so much hun, i jus' wanted to treat you for working so hard, my smart girl," he coos the last part softly then proceeds to pepper kisses all over your head. like he's kissing your overworked brain.

that feeling of love and safety spreads through your veins like molasses. you savor the feeling. "i don't deserve you ken," you mumble quietly hoping he doesn't hear the insecure tilt in your tone. oh, but he did. his hands trace the curve of your waist sliding up until they reach your cheeks. he cups them in his calloused palms, thumbs stroking the apples of them.

"nonsense sweetheart. not only do you deserve me, but you deserve the world. and i'm going to give it to you, from now until my last breath." loving but determined. nanami kento in a nutshell. and that makes any remnants of insecurity vacate your mind. to prove his point, kento leans in and presses his soft lips against your glossy plump ones in a tender kiss.

not one of lust, not one of eroticism, one of affection. a kiss that says 'you are my love, my heart, my soul, my everything.'

he pulls back, interlocks your fingers in his, and guides you to the picnic blanket. you move to sit down, but not before he places a pillow below you so you don't have to sit on the hard ground. a gentleman through and through. "c'mon hun, can't let this food go to waste, can we?" as he sits on a pillow next to you.

"not with our appetites," you chuckle as you grab a cracker off the charcuterie board and poke a toothpick into a slice of ham. kento laughs with you as he gazes at you fondly. he believes this is where he's meant to be. on a blanket, with you, eating and drinking as the horizon turns orange in front of you both.

and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

#✎ᝰ. ( signed your majesty ) !#nanami kento x y/n #nanami kento x you #kento nanami x reader #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento fluff #nanami fluff #kento fluff #jjk fluff #jjk x fem!reader #jjk x reader #jjk x you

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number1mingyustan · 2 months

Note

Ahhh I love your mingyu fics can you do a smut with jealous bf mingyu? (Also your writing is amazing)

boyfriend!mingyu x fem!reader

warnings: established relationship, cursing, kissing, explicit smut, shower sex, marking, arguing, resolved angst, jealousy, praise, oral(f.), fingering (f.), squirting, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, creampie, toxic on the dl

_______________________________________________

You slam the door behind you abruptly and stomp through the bedroom.

"You're acting crazy Mingyu," You huff.

The door swings back open and he walks through. "You're not even listening to me."

You turn facing him with your arms crossed. There's not even a hint of amusement on your face. "You're not listening to me."

You plop down on the bed, butt sinking into the mattress. YOu lean over and start pulling at the strings of your shoes. You're already frustrated and frankly, you're struggling to get your heels off.

"Let me help," Mingyu offers with a sigh.

"No," You spit out quickly. "I can do it myself."

It's a lie.

Your nails are too long for you to properly grip and undo the fastener on the shoe. You couldn't even get them on yourself earlier in the night. Mingyu did it for you. But that was before he started acting like a jealous prick and pissed you off at the club. And the only person more stubborn than Mingyu is you.

He watches you struggle, but ultimately gives in and kneels down to help you anyway. You huff out in annoyance and his face tightens. Neither of you says anything, although the tension in the room seems to thicken.

He helps you out of your shoes, and the moment the second heel is off, you're back on your feet. You don't look at him or thank him, simply standing to your feet and turning your back to him.

His jaw tightens and he takes a deep breath. "Could've at least said thank you."

"I didn't need your help," You snap back quickly.

"What the fuck Y/n? Why are you acting so crazy?!"

"I'm not acting crazy, you are. You're the one treating me like I did something wrong! If some guy comes up to me and starts flirting, I can't do anything to stop him. It's not like I was entertaining it either. I made it clear I wasn't interested and that I had a boyfriend, you're acting like I fucked every guy that looked at me tonight!" You scoff.

"You don't get it."

"I understand it perfectly Gyu." You grit your teeth.

"I know you didn't entertain it but fuck–Y/n. Did you see how many guys were staring at you like a piece of meat? Practically drooling and snickering to their friends and the second they laid eyes on you. And then the amount of them that actually had the audacity to go up to you? It's disrespectful as fuck and you can't blame me for not wanting to stay any longer."

"You dragged me out like I was your property! Just because you were miserable the whole time we were there, doesn't mean I was too. You might not have wanted to see the flirting, but you're taking it out on me like I was actually doing something wrong. Don't have a hot girlfriend if you can't handle it."

You storm off before he can respond with a slam of the bathroom door. You turn on the shower, giving it time to warm up as you slip out of the admittedly very short and very tight dress hugging your body.

Once hot, you step into the shower and allow the water to cover your body. It helps to put you at ease and release the tension and anger weighing on your heart.

You tilt your head back, allowing the water to trickle down your skin. You're so relieved by the water you fail to hear the door opening. Mingyu slips into the bathroom quietly, stripping himself bare without your knowledge.

He steps into the shower, sudden presence startling you. Your heart drops and begins racing and you visually flinch. "Mingyu-"

"Shh" He hushes you calmly, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind. He holds you gently, pulling you in so your back meets his chest.

His chin rests on your shoulder and you can feel his soft breaths on your neck. "I'm sorry," he says quietly.

He plants small kisses on your shoulder, mumbling more apologies in your ear. You try to hold your poker face, but your body relaxes on its own. You melt against his touch. "I was an asshole..." he admits. " 'M sorry."

He lifts his head and turns you around so you're facing him. He cups your chin, tilting your head up so your eyes meet. "I fucked up."

You nod lightly. "You did."

"Let me make it up to you?" He offers.

You raise an eyebrow at him. "Gyu..."

"Please?" He practically begs. "I only acted like a dick because I love you. It's fucked up, I know... but shit. You have any idea how beautiful you are?"

He pulls your body flush against his. Your chests press against one another and he looks down at you. You can feel the length of his hard cock poking against your inner thigh. Neither of you acknowledge it.

"You're so fucking perfect..." He whispers.

He starts trailing kisses along your neck. His lips are soft against your skin, but he sucks harshly. He's sure to leave hickeys, allowing his territorial side to come through. You don't stop him though, can't say you mind all that much when it feels this good.

A moan slips past your lips and you can feel the way Mingyu smirks against your skin. He knows you've already folded and you've given him all the confirmation he needs to keep going.

His hand travels up your stomach, lightly cupping one of your tits. His head dips down between the valley of your breasts and he continues kissing you. "Didn't want anyone else staring at these perfect tits..."

He continues trailing kisses along your skin, opening his mouth wider once he reaches your nipple. He sucks on the bud, causing you to arch your back and press your thighs together. "Everything about you is so beautiful baby," he mumbles.

His head moves, traveling to your other breast and giving it the same attention before continuing to kiss down your stomach. He reaches your navel before kneeling down on the shower floor.

The view has you nearly salivating. He's below you on his knees, hair dripping wet from the shower with his eyes fixated on you. They're clouded with love and lust and you can sense how eager he is to love on you.

"Can I?" He asks softly.

You breathe out shakily, giving him a small nod. He's quick to spread your legs and push his head in between. He starts off slowly, kissing between your thighs and licking a long stripe through your folds.

"Fuckkkkk," You breathe out.

"Didn't want anyone thinking about this pussy either.... 's all mine."

You lean your head back against the wet wall of the shower. He begins sucking on your clit softly, moaning at the taste of you on his tongue. "Taste so good ma."

He lifts one of your legs, resting it on the rim of the bathtub. You tug at his wet hair for support, but it doesn't do much once he starts devouring you. He's sloppy with it, french kissing your clit and pushing his warm tongue in your folds. His nose nudges against your clit and you're squirming above him nonstop.

You cry out, hands slipping against the wet wall as you try to hold yourself up. Your legs are shaky with pleasure and your balance is unsteady.

He adjusts your body slightly, holding you up by your ass cheeks and encourages you to grind down on his face. He moves your hand down on his shoulder. You push your hips against his lips sloppily, crying out as the pleasure overwhelms you.

"S-Shiiiiit," You moan. "Gyu 'm gonna cum."

Your nails dig into his shoulder as your juices coat his face. He moans against you, sending vibrations coursing through your body enough to have you cumming in moments.

He focuses his lips back on your clit, sucking harshly on the sensitive bud. He slips two fingers into your hole, pumping them into you. Your orgasm courses through you before you have time to warn him. You cry out, legs shaking as you cum on his face. Your pussy tightens around his fingers and your clit throbs on his tongue.

A rush of liquid coats his face as you grind against him. He kneels there, moaning against you as he relishes in your taste. He gives you a moment to come down, watching as your chest rises and falls from the harsh breaths you take. He pulls his fingers out slowly and helps you balance yourself on your feet.

He presses one last kiss on your clit before standing to his feet again.

"Better?" He asks.

You nod lightly.

"You forgive me yet mamas?" He asks fondly.

You lick your lips slowly and shrug. "Don't think so."

He sucks his teeth. "Baby."

You give him the cold shoulder, turning around so you're no longer facing him. YOu allow the water to drip down your body again.

He's not amused.

He grabs your waist, pressing your back against his chest.

"Gyu-"

He pushes your body flush against the glass of the shower. Your wet tits flatten against the transparent metal and his cock presses against your folds.

"Since you wanna be difficult, 'M gonna fuck it out of you," He groans against the shell of your ear.

You whimper.

Without warning, he enters you roughly. His cock pounds into you from behind, pushing your body up against the wet glass with each thrust.

You cry out, moaning his name as he fucks you. He continues to tell you how perfect you are, words reflecting differently than the way he thrusts his cock into you mercilessly.

Your palms lay flat against the wet wall as you try to hold yourself steady. His cock stretches you open, pleasure hitting you in all the right places. His cock reaches deep into you, pounding against your g-spot with each roll of his hips.

He grunts, tightening his grip on your waist as he feels you stretch around his cock. You're still tight, warmth enveloping his cock and making it hard for him to stop. He would fuck you all day if he could.

You're always wet for him and you feel so fucking good. It's why all those guys were pissing him off so much today. He just thinks everything about you is so fucking perfect. You're his to kiss, to love, to fuck, and only his.

He knows he needs to control his possessive side more, but when you're arching your back and pushing your ass against him like this, he can't help but feel defensive. He'd never share you.

It doesn't take long before you're cumming again. You cry out his name, catering to everything he wants to hear right now. He continues to compliment you, voice breaking as he cums inside of you moments later.

He groans as he fills you up, pumping his load into you and painting your inner walls white. He kisses your shoulder before pulling out and holding you up. Your legs are shaky, but he supports you.

"Was that too much?" He asks softly.

"No, I'm okay," You look back at him.

Your eyes are soft and he can sense you're getting sleepy. He nods in acknowledgment. "I'm sorry for acting like an asshole, seriously. You don't deserve that and I wanna do better."

"It's okay Gyu, I get it. But I've never given you any reason to doubt me, right?"

"Never."

You plant a kiss on his cheek. "Doesn't matter how many guys try to get at me, the only one I want is you. I mean it."

He licks his lips. "I know."

You pull him in an hug him. Your wet bodies press against one another warmly, it's so comforting.

"Alright baby, let's get you properly cleaned up and go to bed, okay?"

_______________________________________________

#seventeen mingyu #kim mingyu #mingyu #seventeen #kim mingyu smut #mingyu fanfic #mingyu smut #seventeen smut #kpop

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cry4mina · 2 months

Text

Orion’s Belt

(Sana x fem!reader)

Word Count: 7.5k

Fluff/Light Angst/ Smut

Summary: You and your bestfriend Sana take an impromptu vacation after her boyfriend dumps her sparking some interesting interactions and confessions. Tw: friends to lovers, suggestive, sex, drinking, swimming, anxiety on planes, food, thunder storms, cuddling. Let me know if I missed anything! A/N: Halfway proof read! This is a lot different than the others that I've posted and I hope you enjoy it just as much! Thanks to @neoplatinum for listening to me ramble off ideas and pushing me to finish this! Feedback always appreciated and DMs are always open!<3

—

“Sana! Are you ready to go? We have a flight to catch!” shouting from the foyer of her penthouse after letting yourself in with the spare key she gave you, patiently waiting for the Queen Femme to gather herself for your impromptu vacation.

“Yes, Y/n! Just give me a second!” flustered at being rushed by you, her best friend, though this entire vacation was her idea, how could she not already be prepared for it?

Being best friends of about 4 years meant you and Sana did almost everything together and if she needed you, you were present with no hesitation. Sana purchased the tickets, booked the hotel, and sprung it on you two days before you were scheduled to leave, knowing you would agree immediately.

You and Sana met at a coffee shop downtown on a rainy evening in July all those years ago. Enjoying your latte and watching the rain trickle down the window when she caught your attention and told you she liked your shoes with a brilliantly beaming smile that knocked the wind out of you. You ended up talking for hours and have been inseparable ever since.

You have seen every emotion play across her face over the years, knowing her like the back of your hand and always anticipating what she needed or wanted. She loved that about you and always reciprocated the same tenderness and care.

Two massive suitcases emerge from the doorway, followed by Sana looking elegant as ever, wearing a strapless sundress that flowed off her figure perfectly, hues of peach lightly woven in a filigree pattern around the edges of the white fabric, giving her skin an celestial glow. Her hair is down and slightly messy which was not normal for her, but given her emotional state- and how much she had to pack this morning -you understood. She was just not herself today.

Sana was going to pack last night but found herself laid on the couch on the phone with you, crying and stressing about her now ex boyfriend and how he broke up with her over text message for seemingly no reason, a few days prior. Confused by the action and saddened by the surprise separation, how could she organize a suitcase if she couldn’t even organize her mind?

The boy she had found herself in a relationship with was not someone you liked, in any sense of the word. The way he spoke to her was vile and always figured he was using her for a social status boost. It was hard to watch the relationship develop unevenly, one-sided in the way of Sana trying to make it work and him not caring in the slightest.

Hoping you were wrong, you said nothing to Sana about it. If she wanted the experience of being with him, you weren’t going to try to convince her to leave him, you knew better that to meddle in her business. Just being around for her if it all fell apart and it took 6 short months for the foundation to crack, cascading the rest of the relationship with it. Sana standing in the middle of the ash and smoke, sifting through the pieces of rubble for the parts of her she wanted to keep.

Truthfully, it hurt you knowing she was with him. The way he would ignore her speaking to talk to everyone else and being too emotionally distant and cold with her. Sana deserved better than this rude and callous man and you wished she knew how badly you wanted to give her the world.

The anger you felt towards him was justified, you could treat her better even if you were hiding the feelings you developed for Sana. It was a difficult task, considering who she was as a person, so supportive, empathetic, kind and always willing to help anyone who needed it. No wonder you fell for her, especially with how affectionate you were with each other after becoming so close.

Always cuddling on the couch, holding hands, and leaning on each other. After almost drunkenly making out multiple times, you always assumed there was something there but never asked or acted on it in fear of losing the strong friendship you built with her over time.

“Okay, okay, I’m ready. Let’s go.” huffing through the tense air surrounding her. The inflection of her voice drenched in stress with a hint of sadness as she tried to carry on like nothing was happening, catching the single tear that fell from her alluring eyes as it smoothed over her cheek.

You made an empathetic face at her, holding your arms out knowing she will find her way into them, burying her face in your neck, eyelashes tickling you as she sniffles and sighs, finally allowing herself to partially fall apart in your arms and you were just happy she felt safe enough with you to do so.

Internally, your veins are screaming white fire as Sana leans into you more. Holding her was like holding the personification of the sun, and you were melting underneath her embrace. Warm tones of amber and sandalwood emanate off of her and fill your nose causing your heart to skip a beat, pulse quickening, as you try to push the clouds away from over her head.

Hands rubbing the middle of Sana’s smooth back in attempts to comfort her through this time, she regains composure, straightening up while you are wiping the additional tears, a small giggle leaves her lips as she grabs her suitcases and waits for you to open the door for her like you always did.

“Why was your heart beating so fast? I could feel your pulse in your neck.” chuckling out of puzzlement as you both step out the front door into the warmth of the bright summer sun, immediately throwing her sunglasses on to hide her eyes from the rays and the public.

“Uh…I’m…angry.” telling a half truth as you try to keep your composure knowing she was watching your body language fly through a few different emotions before settling on calm.

She always knew when you weren’t being honest. Your tells were easy for her to pick up on, even if she never expressed that. The way your eyes would veer away from her, always to the floor, pupils constricting with worry of her finding out the truth. What if Sana already knew what you thought you had tactfully hid from her?

The thought sends a slight chill down your spine, bones cracking as you put your luggage into the car while she climbs into her passenger seat. Seat always adjusted to Sana perfectly, she would grill you if it was ever adjusted to anyone else, no matter who it was.

Turning the car on and looking over at her, sitting with her feet on the dashboard scrolling through her phone looking for the perfect song. Bluetooth was set up to attach to Sana’s phone first because she loved to play DJ and who were you to deny her any happiness, you wanted to give her any reason to smile even if it was as simple as controlling the music.

—

The flight went by quickly, thankfully. Only an hour and 15 minutes of a clenched back and trying to remember how to breathe properly, you weren’t fond of flying. Sana held your hand and checked in with you multiple times through the short flight, she couldn’t stand to see you so anxious in your own skin, but it did bring her great joy to know you’d be willing to face your fears for her. A true testament to how much you loved her and who you were as a person.

—

A 2 bedroom villa by the beach was your home for the next week. It was about as big as a 2 bedroom apartment, still fancy and spacious but with a modern twist. Crown moldings, vaulted ceilings, every amenity you could ever imagine in place.

There was a small metal spiral staircase to the side of the living room, curious about what it was, you pointed it out to Sana.

“What's this lead to?” questioning the warped metal twisting into the ceiling.

“Go find out!” Motioning her hand up the stairs, your head tilts in curiosity, smacking your lips and then running full speed up the stairs as Sana laughs from below, finally following you when she hears you gasp loudly.

Tongue pinched between her teeth and smile wide as ever, climbing up the stairs to see your face. You are gobsmacked, hands over your mouth and eyes wide with wonder as you’re taking in the loft with a huge skylight with a conversation pit underneath it.

“I know one of our favorite things to do together is stargazing so when I saw this, I thought it would be perfect for our week long adventure!” eagerly shouted as she threw herself around you, pressing her chest against your back and resting her chin on your shoulder.

“This is perfect!” placing your hands over hers on your stomach and leaning into her warmth, and knowing you’d be spending the majority of your nights suspended under the stars with Sana talking about life and enjoying each other's company.

“Alright, let’s go! We have plans!” suddenly heading for the exit, lightly pulling on your arm trying to get you back down the stairs to get ready.

“Plans?! Where are we going?” Quizzically as you trample down the stairs, Sana pulling you the entire way.

“It’s a surprise! Did you pack that one outfit I told you to?” as she pulls her suitcases into one of the rooms to get settled.

“Yes…should I put i-”

“Yes. Put it on and give me 30 minutes.” Closing the door quickly behind her, giving no time for arguments or rebuttals.

Glancing at the clock, the time reading 6:33pm, you pull out the outfit requested by Sana and lay it flat on the bed. A bright red crop top, paired with black slacks, and a black blazer. It was a little dressier than what you would normally wear but it was her break up vacation and if she enjoyed you in this outfit, she’d get you in this outfit.

—

Steam rises to the ceiling as you sing to yourself in the shower, washing the travel off of you to get a little more comfortable. You wonder how Sana is doing. It’s only been about 10 minutes since you parted but knowing she was going through a tough time, you couldn’t help but worry a little as she seemed very cheery since you arrived on the island.

Recalling the first time you and her went stargazing together, it was a cool night in October when she called you unexpectedly. Missing her family immensely, reaching out to you for some comfort.

Water rushing down your back as you live in the memory of Sana coming over to your apartment with that gloomy look living in her eyes. Dragging her to the patio and telling her to get into the hammock you had set up for yourself a few days prior, for this exact reason.

Laying closely together, holding her as you asked her questions about her family, what they did for a living, about the special memories she had with them from her childhood. By the end of it she was smiling and giggling recalling them with you.

Silence fell between you as you both relaxed and looked up at the sky when you suddenly pointed up at the shimmering night, singling out a radiant sparkle in the blackness of the sky.

“That’s Venus…do you see those 3 stars in a row? That’s Orion’s belt!” enthusiastically talking about the stars and planets in the sky that you could see. She always loved listening to you speak so passionately about things you loved.

That was the first night you almost kissed, sober, for the first time. Sana had gotten up to use the bathroom and fell back into the hammock face first, always so clumsy, and was merely a half an inch from your face.

Feeling the heat of her breath on your skin burnt you as the moment tensed, bones stiffening in the face of your best friend. Pull like magnets in your chests as you inched closer before she forced herself away from you, throwing her hands over her mouth, muttering an apology and basically running inside.

Leaving you to remember the way your chest fell into itself and the ache of wanting to feel her lips on yours. That’s the only time you were almost able to do what no one ever could, get Sana to make the first move.

Always against it with everyone else, she doesn’t chase. If you want her, show her otherwise you’ll get locked into the friend zone, never to be seen in a romantic light again. A familiar sadness creeped into your stomach. Not chasing her was hard for you, but you were so paranoid about ruining the friendship that you just couldn’t bring yourself to play the game.

A sigh relieves some of the compression in your chest as you dry your hair, hoping this would be the night that you finally got over yourself enough to tell her how you felt about her. It was intimidating to think about, considering you still had a week on this island with her and what if it isn't reciprocated?

Slipping into the outfit laid out on the bed, adjusting it accordingly and stepping into the living room noting that Sana wasn’t out of her room yet, of course. Late to everything, as always.

Placing yourself on the couch and peering at the clock, 6:59pm, patiently waiting for her to emerge and deciding to get a little more comfortable, you laid down and scrolled through your phone, eyes getting heavier as the minutes passed until you finally dozed off.

—

The door opens lightly and Sana steps out in a long black sleeveless dress, cinched at the waist to show off her figure and a slit all the way up to her upper thigh. Hair tied up in a sophisticated bun and make-up flawless, finally ready to go.

Hands placed on her hips, shifting her weight to one leg when she sees you asleep on the couch, letting out an eye roll and a small giggle that stirs you awake.

“Good morning, sleepy head!” shouted at you in a volume you weren’t anticipating. Eyes widening as you take in your surroundings and re-calibrate from the deep sleep you found yourself in moments prior.

Eyes shifting over Sana, your breath is pulled from your body. Blood running blue as all hints of oxygen drained from your lungs, sucked into a vortex of pure bliss as you felt the weight of the love you had for the human in front of you, who was effervescently shining brightly in front of you.

“Sana,” sleepily escapes your lip, awe breaking through the grogginess of your voice, “You look stunning…wow.” If she was drenched in diamonds the delicacy that was her elegance would refract the same amount of light, glowing with the embodiment of pure love that she willingly gave to those who she felt were worthy.

Staring without care and mouth hanging open, you couldn’t help but gawk at her. A moth to a flame, eyes glued to her figure. Absolutely trapped in your skin as your body temperature rises, flushing your skin a lovely shade of pink.

“I could say the same to you…” looking you up and down before batting her eyes at you. Watching you stand, completely engrossed as you stretch again, bones rattling under the stiffness of the slumber you found on the couch.

Neither of you can take your eyes off each other when heading for the door. The closeness causes a slight tension between the two of you, fingers tingling from nervousness at the close proximity, breathing becomes a little more difficult.

This was going to be a long night.

—

Arriving at your reservation at the local fancy restaurant, you were unable to focus on anything but Sana. Following every refined movement, from sitting in the chair you pulled out for her, to looking at the menu. You were in the clouds, heart eyes evident, completely oblivious to what was happening around you.

“Do you know what you’re going to order?” questioned without removing her eyes from the wine menu, tabbing through the selections and settling on the sweetest bottle of rosé she could find.

“Uh…nope, actually. I was distracted.” dropping your head in shame as you quickly find the entrees, picking the ribeye and closing the menu quickly. Eyes back to Sana but she’s already peering at you making eye contact that blinds you, forcing you to look away from her and noticing the emptiness of the restaurant.

The waiter approaches the table and introduces himself, letting you know what the house specials were before asking about what drinks you were interested in for the evening. This prompts Sana to order the wine she was looking at on the menu.

“We will take this bottle, please” Sana says pointing at the page, hearing the drag of her finger on the thick paper as she underlines the name with her nail.

“Oh, before you go, why is it so empty in here? During the summer I would assume it would be busier.” Politely asking, I guess she noticed too.

“It’s the stormy season so most people wait until right before fall to visit.” smiling and leaning to get the bottle of wine for the two of you.

“…storms?” whispered from the woman made of living porcelain, showing a crack that misted fear onto her perfect complexion.

The waiter comes back over, shows both of you the bottle before slicing the foil and uncorking it, pouring Sana a little for a taste test. She swirls the glass lightly and takes a sip before letting out a satisfied hum. The waiter takes the go ahead and fills her glass, doing the same for you moments later and leaving quickly.

“Thanks for agreeing to come with me on this trip, I’m feeling much better already.” An energy emitting off of her that was abnormal. Was Sana being shy? Sana? Shy? How bizarre.

“You know I’d do anything to make you feel better.” confidently said back in a tone that was a little flirtier than normal. Allowing the boldness to flow before you could stop yourself. Sighing as if you are ashamed, your arms swing to cover your chest and legs crossed trying to escape the awkwardness.

Sana notices and smirks, “I know you would. I'd do the same for you. I think that’s why our friendship has been so great!” raising her glass to you before she sips it lightly, you do the same back, offering it as a cheer but it was really a muffled cry.

The smile she lets out as she finishes her sentence was an insult to the injury. The word friend branding your chest and the smile the salt rubbed mercilessly into the wound, stinging a little more than normal tonight considering the way she was looking at you earlier.

Growing somber as the night continues on, throughout the meal and through the ride home you barely said anything, not that Sana minded. Your company was enough but it was weighing on her that you were seemingly bothered by something she couldn’t see.

“Are you sure you’re okay, Y/n? You seem off since dinner…” worried as she swipes the card to open your hotel door, launching it forward to let you in first.

“Yeah, I’m okay. I think I’m just tired is all.” a melancholic response from you as you head into your room and close the door lightly behind you before she could ask you anything else.

Sana stands in the living room by herself in silence, saddened by something she didn’t really understand. Holding her own hands as she gazes down at the floor biting the inside of her cheek, wishing she had the guts to follow you.

Rain splashing on the windows lightly and a small rumble in the distance, winds howling pushing and pulling the building as it creaks under the force, reminding her of what the waiter said at the restaurant. Stormy season.

“Great.” rolling her eyes at the idea of being in an unfamiliar place and having to deal with the sound of thunder and the flashes of lightning. A fear she’s had since she was a child, alive and well in her 20s that you usually helped her through, but you were upset and she wanted to give you space if you needed it.

“If y/n can face her fear of flying, then I can face this.” Hastily going into her room, changing into something more comfortable and curling up in the bed, scrolling on her phone as the storm rolled in, tapping on the window a sign of the loud clashes that were going to sing through the sky as anytime now.

—

Closing the door behind you lightly and plopping onto the bed, you run your hands over your face roughly and deeply inhale, followed by an exhale of equal size as you try to shake off the feeling of dread.

“Friendship” the word locked between your ears, spiraling and echoing through your memories of all the times you thought there was something between you and Sana.

Sadness wells up in your throat, choking on the indirect rejection slushing through your brain as the rain falls outside. Thunder rolling in the distance, Sana was going to text you when it got bad you already knew.

Sighing heavily as you stripped off her favorite outfit of yours, throwing it carelessly out of your sights. Reaching for a pair of cozy black sweatpants and a black wife pleaser tank top.

Not even bothering to remove the comforter off the sheets, you lay face first into the pillow and sigh heavily trying to release the build up of grief you had been carrying for some time, without alerting Sana.

Dizzy in a sense, hopelessness washed over you when your phone vibrated about 45 minutes later with a text from Sana.

Satang<3: are you awake?

Satang<3: this thunder is kinda scary…

A playful grin lay across your face and you start typing but a knock interrupts the attempt.

Adrenaline flushes your system as you stand and pull the door open, revealing Sana, wearing an oversized t-shirt that covered whatever bottoms she could have on. Anxiety brewed within her about the commotion outside, jumping closer to you as the thunder clapped loudly against itself.

“Can I stay with you tonight?” breathed to you through chattering teeth, eyes wide and pouty as she tried to convince you, not that you needed it.

Visibly shaken up, she takes a big step forward towards you. Your arms immediately open for her out of habit. Half holding, half guiding her to the right side of the bed and allowing her to crawl in between the silky sheets first.

Taking your place next to her, you click the TV on and find a channel with a random sitcom on to drown out the noise of the clattering outside, hoping Sana could focus on something other than the storm.

“Maybe we could go to the beach tomorrow?” said unexpectedly through the sound of the laugh track playing loudly, covering the static of the

“But you hate the beach.” in awe at what you were suggesting to her.

“But you love the beach.” retorted sarcastically with a grin.

Beaming at you as she playfully smacks your arm, leaving her hand carefully placed on your bicep, a form of physical touch, her love language. She squeezed it tightly as the thunder rolled, creeping closer with every minute.

Her eyes are recklessly running around the room as the lightning illuminates the sky, droplets pounding on the roof in intense waves as the storm thrashes into the night, leaving you to care for your favorite person.

You left your arm up and over her shoulder, pulling her closer to you. She is quick to koala herself around you with her head on your chest, listening to your racing heart, and half smiling as she falls asleep in the safety of your warmth.

—

Waking up to the sound of Sana’s sleep heavy breaths was something you always looked forward to when you found yourself sharing a bed. She was so at peace and calm, it was hard to ignore how exquisitely perfect she was.

Laying with her face in your neck, her closed eyes softened as her brows furrowed in her sleep, small squeaks leaving her lips, followed by a groan muffled by you, sent your body into system overload. What could she possibly be dreaming about that would cause such a sound to leave her perfectly pink lips?

Her hand slides up your torso gently, her breath hitching as her fingertips smooth over your ribs, bone by bone. Heartbeat visible in your chest as she rolls onto her back and audibly moans your name.

The way it rolls off her tongue makes you instantly insatiable, clenching your thighs together tightly for some form of relief and trying not to assume what she was dreaming about. The way her hips were rocking was enough for you to put all the pieces of the puzzle together, not assuming but knowing that she was having a wet dream about you.

Sneakily stepping out of the bed and turning to see her lazily thrusting her hips in her sleep and continuing to whimper sparked something in you that was indescribable. Unable to shift your eyes away from Sana as she continued on, wonder if this was a common occurrence for her.

Stepping into the bathroom to try and remember how to breathe, you hold yourself up on the sink and turn the cold water on, splashing it in your face a few times to bring you back down to earth. Was she really thinking about you that way? Was it just a one time thing? It’s not like you could just ask her, that would be weird.

“Y/n?” breaks your train of thought causing you to freeze instantaneously. Statued by the sink, wondering if she remembers what she was just moaning over. You were sure to never forget it.

“I’m in the bathroom…I’ll be out in a second.”

Hearing her stretch from the other room, you quickly change into your bathing suit, a simple black 2 piece, and walk back into the bedroom.

Sana was still half asleep until she saw you in that swimsuit in front of her, you had been working out and it was showing. Abs toned, arms on the more muscular side; she silently swooned seeing you in this light.

“Do you still want to go to the beach today?” sitting on the bed next to her trying to address her directly but she won’t look you in the eyes.

“Yeah, I guess. Let me change.” calmly leaving her mouth as she gets up and walks out of the room silently and completely shutting you out of whatever she was feeling.

Now perplexed at what was happening, you stare at the door she just left through in complete disbelief. She was always so cheery in the morning and to see her not shining, caused a little bit of worry in you.

Following her out into the living room, only for her to shut the door behind her. A sigh ringing through the air after the door closes, you try to brush it off by going to put together your beach bag. Silently gathering towels for the two of you, bringing a few water bottles and snacks and wishfully hoping you’d be able to help her get out of her head today.

–

The calmness of the waves washes over the shore, creating a relaxing white noise as you and Sana lay in the lounge chairs, enjoying the stillness of the environment and being able to relax in peace.

Margaritas were the drink of choice today, it was 11am and you were already on your third one. Sana just kept ordering them for the both of you and you were on vacation. Who’s to say you can’t let a little lose and get a little drunk with your best friend?

Sana’s demeanor was still off, but she had more of a bounce in her step after an hour or two. The margaritas slowly revived her affectionate personality that she hid away that morning.

Back to smacking your arm playfully and smiling back at you with everything you said when she suddenly stands and runs right to the ocean, waves putting up a weak fight pulling her in as she turns around and eggs you on in joining her.

“Come on! The water’s not that cold!” Yelled at you from feet away as you made your way to her. She was a liar, the water was freezing cold on your legs as you scooched closer to her in the water finally making it to the waist deep water Sana was at.

“So c-cold!” escapes your lips as you try to get used to the frigid waters coating your body when a splash causes a loud gasp to leave your mouth followed by a small giggle from Sana.

Gawking at her while she laughs at your reaction, you jump over to her and grab her by the waist, playfully wrestling with her in the water. Being sure to handle her with care as you tangle, she drapes her arms around your neck, clinging to you tightly. Her legs soon follow, wrapping themselves around your torso so she’s flush against you, slyly smirking centimeters from your face.

“Awh, have I made you upset?” oozing seductively from her lips as she slides her arms down your back to toy with the knot holding your top to your chest.

“You wouldn’t.” challenging the threat she was intimidating you with, drunkenly.

“Oh but I would.” squinting her eyes at you while she tugged lightly allowing the knot to loosen slightly.

Unmoving as you let her pull the strings, her face so close you can see the mischievous glint in her eyes and smirk elongating as she leans into you further, connecting your lips as one of her hands shimmies up to the back of your neck, continuing to lay soft sweet kisses on your face, making her way to your neck for a light bite. Attempting to repress all the noises your lungs wish to release as your legs clench together.

“You like this, don’t you? I bet you’ve thought about this before, hm?” whispered into your ear as she felt you tensing underneath her. Teeth tug on your lobes lightly as the question burns in your ears like a form of torture, snapping you back to the reality you were in.

Sana was drunk, heartbroken, and leaning into you for validation…that’s the only way this could actually be happening right?

“Sana...we can’t do this.” hesitantly stated as she cups your face lovingly, you can’t help but rest your head there affectionately.

“But…why not?” woefully questioned as she rests her chin on your shoulder, re-tying the knot to secure the top covering you, immediately respecting what you were saying and not crossing the boundary.

“Because we’ve both had too much to drink and I don’t want it to happen thi-…” unaware of a larger wave coming to crash down on you mid sentence, completely drenching both of you from head to toe.

Chuckling out of surprise, you look over to find the scowl Sana seared into her visage. Her eyes are bright red, breath stuttering as she sniffles.

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?” scanning the visible parts of her body for any hint as to why she would be so upset.

“I’m fine, y/n. A lot of salt water in my eyes and I'm just ready to go.” getting out of the water and making her way over to where you had set yourselves up for the morning.

“You want to leave so quickly?” completely confused by her as she gathered everything silently. Making the choice to let her stew in whatever she was feeling, unsure of how to proceed with this but wanting to improve the sudden change in mood, wrapping yourself in your towel and following her back to the hotel.

–

It was barely 1pm by the time you got back to the room, surprised that she only wanted to spend a few hours in the sun. Asking her multiple times if she was okay on the way back but she only gave one worded replies that didn’t give you any context to why she was turning within herself and away from you.

Setting all her stuff down by the door before walking straight into her room, not closing the door behind her, taking that as an invitation, you followed her like a lost puppy to the threshold. Sana turns around and halfway glares at you as she starts to try to untie the knot at the base of her neck.

“Can I help you, Y/n?” with a tone that harshly fragmented your heart. Never having spoken to you this way, you were taken aback completely, wondering if the alcohol had something to do with the overwhelming sense of unwelcomeness that creeped into the space, darkening the overall mood and instigating fight, flight or freeze within you.

“Oh…” mournfully uttered as you stepped out of the room that was clouded by whatever seeped from Sana’s consciousness, what could you have done to generate such an irritated response from her? Swiftly marching to the room you both spent the night in, footsteps can be heard swiftly trying to catch up to you.

“Y/n, wait!” as you close and lock the door behind you.

Immediately stripping out of the swimsuit when you heard the door rattle slightly, as the person on the other side of it rested their forehead against it. Hearing the sniffles produced from Sana as you force yourself to not offer comfort to the woman who had just snapped at you for a reason you weren’t aware of.

–

The clock reads 9:53pm as you lay in the conversation pit under the skylight. Last night might’ve been stormy but tonight was perfect for stargazing and that’s exactly what you planned to do, with or without your best friend.

Laying by yourself and staring straight into the sky, admiring the randomness that was the star's patterns, connecting dots as you see the constellations play out in front of you. God, this sucks alone. Missing Sana at every passing moment.

Was she just drunk earlier or were her actions real? Sana had always flirted with you in her intoxicated states but it had never felt as intense as the moment in the water today. Remembering the taste of her sweet lips in the salty air, you craved them constantly, but was it romantic or was it just a drunken moment she was having?

She did just go through a breakup and the alcohol wasn’t exactly something that made emotions easier to deal with. Maybe she was trying to seek comfort in you, as messed up as that is to say. Maybe she knew you cared for her romantically and she wanted to push the limits and see how much you really wanted her?

The rattling of the metal staircase pulls you out of the toxic trance you were in, not bothering to look up as you picked a star to fixate on instead of looking at Sana who was standing in the doorway.

“May I come in?” a delicate smile can be heard in her words as she asked where your boundary was. That was more like her. Instead of a verbal response, you simply patted the cushioning next to you without looking at her, summoning her over to you.

Gracefully sauntering over and laying down next to you, she let out a long sigh almost relaxing into the atmosphere as she looked over at your face. You could feel her eyes burning a hole into your cheeks but refused to look away from the skylight.

Her hand finds its way to your stomach as she lays on her side, snuggling you with her head on your shoulder. Your heart picks up again, even with not wanting to have the conversation that needed to be had, she still made you feel like pure bliss.

“I’m sorry I snapped at you…I just thought-” cutting herself off, swallowing nervously as she starts to quietly weep into your neck.

Shutting your eyes tightly, you try to hold in the emotions that seemed to be brimming out of both of you rapidly. Your fingers lightly trace her back as her quiet sobs drip from your skin.

“Sana, it’s okay. We weren’t sober, I know you didn-”

“I just thought you felt the same way.” slicing through the air like a knife, chopping your sentence in half.

Heart pulsing in your ears as you grow red, feeling your heart pumping forcefully as you try to wrap your mind around what she just uttered. You’re completely immobile as you remember all the small moments that could be seen as romantic. Candle lit dinners, the days spent on the couch, the physical touch that was constant between the two of you…has she always liked you this way? Or were you misunderstanding what she was saying?

“What do you mean by that, Sana?” carefully asking the question that charred the tip of your tongue, leaving the build up of fiery love inside of you, knowing this would alter the state of your friendship forever and possibly change the trajectory of your life.

Sitting up promptly, to ensure you can hear and see her completely, pulling you up with her.

“Y/n” a sigh breaks the sentence as she braces for what’s to come “…I love you.”

Patiently waiting for the realization of what she’s saying to roll over your face, she continues.

“I tried dating other people to get over you because I was worried that if I told you, you wouldn’t feel the same way and it would come between us or that it would end badly. And everyone I dated was nothing compared to you, and just made me want to be with you more…you treat me so well that it puts everyone else to shame,” looking down at the floor and toying with a string sticking out of the cushions that covered the floor.

“And when we were at the beach, I saw the way you looked at me and the alcohol encouraged me to make a move, and you know I never do that but…I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, I swear. I misread the signs I thought you were giving me and -sniff-” continuing on to try to over explain her actions but you were in a complete state of euphoria.

Floating on cloud nine as Sana makes her plea for you to stick around, you reach out around her waist and hoist her into your lap, one leg on either side of your waist.

Hand raising up to cup her surprised face as you lean into her without a second thought, lips passionately connecting as you show her what you always wanted to say out loud.

Passionately tangled in a heated make out session, you remove her shirt quickly and trail light kisses down her exposed neck to her collarbone, her hand clenching your hair as she whimpers softly under your curious touch.

“Y/n, I need you” breathed into your mouth as you effortlessly shift positions so you are on top of her, removing your shirt hastily not wanting the fabric to be between the touch of you and her velour skin.

Grasping at your pants, trying to remove them quickly she nervously fidgets with the button and you let her panic for a second, enjoying the neediness radiating from her brow, as her half lidded eyes fill with frustration.

Giggling as you look down at her, she halfway glares at you with a smile. Playfulness of your friendship seeps into the moment and you both welcome it in a moment of unseriousness.

Reaching down and undoing the button of your pants and hers quickly while smirking at her boldly, she rolls her eyes at the move and unzips your pants, sliding her outstretched hand into your underwear and through your wetness.

“I can’t wait to taste you” sultry tone ringing in your ears as you allow yourself to succumb to Sana in a way you only dreamed about.

Reaching up behind you to unclip your bra sneakily before she rolled you over so you were on your back, fingers still circling your clit through the movement, causing a few slight gasps and light moans out of you.

She removes her hand and discards your pants and panties to leave you completely naked. Squirming underneath her as you watch her remove the rest of her clothing, anticipation high as she kisses down your neck leaving small bites and a trail of marks down your chest.

Taking her time descending your body and learning every place her touch will drive you mad, she hovers over your pussy and smiles up at you.

“You know once we do this…there’s no going back, right?” waiting for permission from you to continue on. Even with how eager she was, she wanted to make sure that you knew this was an act of you committing to each other.

“Sana, please…” breathed into the night as your hands covered your face, the want palpable in the air as you tried to scoot closer to her mouth.

“Please what?” tracing her fingers between your hip bones and down your hips to your inner thighs.

The whine you release is guttural, full of the desire that’s been burning for her for what felt like centuries. Moving your hands from your face, through her hair gripping it heavily as you moan the words she’s been waiting to hear.

“Sana, please fuck me, I need you.” sighing heavily as she kisses your inner thigh while you beg for her to touch you.

“Good girl” mumbled into your thigh as she parts your lips and finally tastes your slick. Leaving nothing for imagination as she explores your folds.

Her hands reach up to play with your hardened buds as she devours you. Latching onto your clit and circling it lightly with her tongue, moaning into your core as she sucks.

Writhing underneath her while she feasts on your desire, directing her head where you want it by her hair as you groan her name senselessly.

Bliss dripping off you, as you fixate on what she looks like between your legs. The eye contact has you spiraling into a void of pure lust as you start to buck your hips into her mouth, slowly grinding against her lips.

Feeling her smile into you as finger dancing on the edge of your entrance, seeking permission to fill you the way you always dreamed she would. Not allowing her to thrust into you, but instead you force your hips down into to fuck yourself on her fingers while you still have enough thoughts in your head to do so.

Half laughing at you while you continue to buck your hips into her, moaning uncontrollably as you feel your stomach tighten.

“You must have been dreaming of this for years…I never knew you wanted this so badly, baby. I’ll show you how it’s supposed to feel” taunting you between the damp sounds coming from your core.

Curling her fingers through your wetness to hit your g-spot perfectly as she lets you control the pace and tempo at which her fingers press it, mouth not letting go of your clit as you fuck yourself against her.

“I’m -fuck right there- gonna cum.” shakily exhaled between grunts as groans as she starts to pump her fingers inside of you, hips faltering as she does, relentlessly sucking and swirling her tongue on your swollen pussy as you gush into her mouth, screaming her name.

A light sheen of sweat coating your skin as she lets you ride out your orgasm on her fingers before pulling them out of you slowly, leaving you gasping for more. Making eye contact with you as she licks her digits clean, smiling in almost a predatory way as she comes up to kiss you passionately.

Tasting yourself on her caused your hips to start rutting against her again, grinding on the memory of her between your legs as you try to maneuver your hands between hers when she swats it away.

“I’ve waited too long for this, for you…and I’m not finished, my love.” sinking her teeth into your neck roughly before finding herself back where she was about to force another orgasm out of you.

This was going to be a long night, only hoping for more passionate nights under the stars with your love, Minatozaki Sana.

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