#((well. tonights seats ARE free anyways-))

[thebananwithaplan]

Sound Stage 8, in its original state, was a near-exact replica of Sound Stage 7, which is home to the set of Shovelware's Brain Game. SS8 was built so attendees could pretend to be on the show while SS7 can remain uninterrupted.

For now, though? SS8 was being repurposed to be a stage for performers to attend to. And with the staff that did arrive to help, they at least made it so the lighting was more theatre-accurate compared to the gameshow's bright lighting. It was the most they could do to hide the background props in such a short timespan.

"You think people will watch?"

"I'm sure some will..." Again, considering the time constraints, nobody's really expecting a full-house right out the gate. "It's all supposed to be for fun, anyways-"

🍒 1 "We'll be the judge of that!" Wait, when did these guys already get in their seats-

"...Come on. Please try not to be too harsh..."

🍒 2 "You and us know that we're the ones with the best commentary in your whole audience. If you're lucky, we won't have much to say."

🍒1 "If we're lucky, we hope the Announcer isn't one of the performers."

🍒 1 & 2 "OHOHOHO!"

One could almost hear Announcer going 'OH COME ON' in the distance.

[chunghasweetie]

𝐖𝐎𝐍’𝐓 𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐌𝐄 | J.JK

— part 1

— pairing | fem!oc x dealer!jjk

— summary | after a petty argument jungkook spots you showing out at a party with the hosts arm around your waist

— warning | bad writing (i’m doing my best)

unprotected sex, toxic fwb, lots cursing, jealousy, angst, ratchet behavior, dirty talk, angry sex, belittling, drinking, smoking🍃, womanizer behavior, breeding kink, both 🚩🚩 , daddy kink, degrading, slapping (face), false accusations, double standards

— word count | 6.2k words

— song suggestion | love you like me — william singe

He was blocked once again.

He didn’t even know for what this time.

Well, he had a good idea.

Running his mouth again. They always argued and he was always blocked and unblocked.

This time he think he actually irritated you.

“Goddamnit Y/n.” He cursed. He pissed you off once again but now his number and his Instagram was both blocked by you.

For some reason this time irked him more than the others.

“You’re still stressing over that girl?” Jimin plopped on the couch next to him.

“I can’t believe you still fuckin on her.” Taehyung walked in, taking a seat on the couch too.

“That’s my girl ya’ll know that.” Jungkook bit his lip, staring at his blank phone screen.

“You need to get like how you used to. 3 or more at a time. Always.” Jimin spoke, “You used to be like that. You used to make fun of guys like you. Now you’re giving out free shit to some girl.”

“I mean he does get pussy from it but like, only her bro?” Taehyung looked at Jungkook. “You used to have all these girls on you. Stephanie, Nari, Seunghee, Belle, Maya… What happened to you man?”

Jungkook thought about what they said. “Shits just different now.”

“Oh my gosh she’s ruined you.” Jimin groaned. “Nah man. We’re going to a Jackson party.”

“He’s having a party?” Jungkook looked up from his phone. “Why haven’t I heard anything about it?”

“Because you’re too busy stressin’ about some bitch.” Jimin shook his head.

Before Jungkook could correct him, Jimin corrected himself. “Some girl. Before you start.”

“Anyway, it’s tonight.” Taehyung spoke.

“So bring whatever cash you got and we’re definitely gonna send you home with a girl or two.” Jimin swung his arm around his shoulder.

“Oh shit I think she’s posting about you Jeon!” Taehyung was on her phone, immediately making Jungkook’s head snap over.

“Really?!”

“No man.” He laughed. “We really gotta get you more girls. You need more pussy than just her.”

“Yeah, no more Y/n.” Jimin shook his head.

“Whatever.”

༊—

“I’m so jealous.” Seungyeon swooned over the text messages on your phone.

“I don’t see why. This looks annoying as hell.” Elkie rolled her eyes.

Jungkook🍃

Wyd

Lemme come over

I got shit for you and your friends

Omg fucking answer

You’re mad annoying

I ain’t even mean what I said fr just reply 😭

“I think it’s cute. And hilarious.” Seungyeon chuckled. “What made you block him this time?”

“He was bragging about how many girls he sells to. How they’re all pretty and thick as hell. So I just said ‘cool’ and blocked him.” You shrugged.

You and your friends had been getting ready for hours for a Jackson Wang party they had personally been invited to.

“You better not hope he doesn’t pull up tonight.” Elkie spoke.

“Yeah Y/n. Taehyung’s going and I’m sure they’ll try to convince him.” Seungyeon told her.

“He’s probably too busy getting high in his room.” Elkie replied. “Or selling in the east side.”

“Wouldn’t doubt it.” You shook your head. “I kinda do wish he would be there though.”

“Is his dick really that good?” Elkie asked you as she was baking her makeup.

“Unfortunately it is. Like, real good.” You started to get flashbacks.

“Here she goes.” Seungyeon rolled her eyes.

“He fucks me sooo good yall don’t get it.” You began. “Even though he’s annoying and shit I’ve never had dick like his. Once we started recording our shit I can’t stop rewatching.”

“You aren’t worried he’ll show people?” Elkie asked.

“They’re all on my phone. He only has a few. Even if he does show his homeboys it’s whatever. He’s damn near louder than me anyway.” You told her.

Your phone went off, making you look over at it to see the notification.

kplug🍃 has added you on Snapchat

“Oh my gosh.” You said out loud, immediately making the girls look over.

“He fucking added you on Snapchat!” Elkie laughed out loud, “He’s crazy”

“And on his plug account?” Seungyeon’s eyes widened. “He’s obsessed.•

“What can I say? This pussy makes him insane.” You jokingly boasted.

“Did you add him back?” Seungyeon asked.

“Nah not yet. I’ll wait until I’m almost done getting ready.” You tossed your phone on your bed.

“Yeah that’ll be better.” Elkie nodded.

“Ugh I need to hurry anyway. I’m tryna look good tonight.” You groaned, looking at your barely half done makeup.

No matter what it was, you loved to look good. You were a confident woman who took pride in her appearance.

Tonight mattered. You hadn’t took good pictures in quite some time and Jackson’s party was the best place to take them at.

You had just changed up your hair last night. You had a brown base with blonde highlights. And for tonight you decided to add gold and bronze tinsel to elevate your look.

Your friends always had the same energy, wanting to look as good as they could even if it was a simple occasion.

Seungyeon and Elkie definitely showed out with you tonight.

You all had skimpier outfits on tonight. You were a low cut brown latex top with a matching black mini skirt.

Your heels were black and the strings wrapped up around your mid calf. You sprayed your expensive perfume all over, making sure you smelt as good as you looked.

Your makeup was finally done for the night and it couldn’t have looked better. You looked incredible.

The girls had taken some pre party pics in your room, posting on all social media.

“Oh Y/n! Add him back.” Seungyeon told you.

You nodded, adding Jungkook back on Snapchat.

“He’s gonna see all our videos at the party. He’s gonna regret saying all that shit to you.” Elkie laughed. “Gonna see so many dudes all up on you and start punching walls and shit.”

“He probably already is and we haven’t even left the house yet.” Seungyeon laughed with her. “The pictures we posted right now are enough to make him tear his hair out.”

“Damn right.” You giggled. “Yall got everything? I’m about to order the Uber.”

Both girls nodded, making sure they had everything they needed.

kplug🍃 just sent you a snap

You looked at the notification, “Hm.” You hummed to yourself, not opening his snap quite yet.

Once the uber pulled up all of the girls climbed in, taking more pictures in the backseat on the drive there.

You lived in a nice area, but nothing compared to Jackson’s place.

The location was one of his many homes,

“Jackson lives so far from us.” Elkie looked at the map on her phone.

“Yeah but his area is so nice. It’s worth it.” Seungyeon added. “I wonder how many people are gonna be there.”

“Girl you know it’s gonna be so packed we gonna have to get dropped off damn near a mile away.” You laughed.

“You better hope Jungkook doesn’t show up.” Elkie looked over at you, who was just opening his snap.

The snap was him a car, sitting in a car full of tackily dressed women right corner of him. One of the girls was taking the picture for him.

“I should’ve just shut up.” Elkie covered her mouth. “They’re definitely going.”

“He’s petty as hell!” Seungyeon looked over at your screen. “What does he expect you to say to that?”

“Probably nothing.” Y/n turned off the phone. “He wants to be like that he can go right ahead.”

“You’re so cool about it.” Seungyeon looked at her in amazement. “I would’ve went batshit crazy.”

“I’m not trippin because I’m not holding back at this party.” She laughed.

༊—

“Why would you guys do me like this?”

“You’re so dramatic.” Jimin rolled his eyes. “We found you a car full of girls to take to the party and you’re complaining.”

“Didn’t ask for it. Y’all make me look like a charity case. I could’ve gotten plenty at Jackson’s.”

“Whatever.” Taehyung rolled his eyes. “You know how much play she’s gonna get there? And you’re gonna have to watch it alllll.”

“Yeah man. You’re gonna have to watch all sorts of dudes kissing up on her and shit. You’re gonna look like a bitch.” Jimin added.

“Exactly. So let us help you bro.” Taehyung smiled. “Come on it’ll be worth it. Plus, you look great man. She’ll be unblocking you in no time.”

Jungkook and the boys got in the car full of women, instantly leeching onto them.

“Hello ladies” Jimin greeted, buckling up.

“Hiii Jiminnn” They replied in union, almost fighting to talk to him.

One of them turned to Jungkook, immediately biting her lip. “Hey Kookie.”

“Hey Oliver.” He exhaled.

“It’s Olivia” She laughed. “You’re like— so funny!” Her annoying voice rang in his ears.

“Oh— my bad.”

The girls had tried talking Jungkook the entire ride there, trying to get him to open up and talk to them.

“Ouuu look at his phone.” One of the girls motioned.

“Omg look!” One was quick to snatch his phone, “He added Y/n on Snapchat, let’s send her something!”

“You guys should!” Taehyung added.

“No one needs to do that!” Jungkook tried to take it back but they already snapped pictures and sent them to Y/n on his phone.

Olivia passed the phone to Taehyung who kept repeating ‘give it to me’

“Taehyung what the hell!”

“It’s for your own good!” Taehyung held onto his phone for the rest of the ride there.

༊—

“Yep. I’m definitely gonna get sloppy drunk.” Seungyeon announced as they walked inside Jackson’s party.

“There’s no way you won’t. This shits fucking cool.” Elkie looked around the home.


People everywhere and the music was booming in all corners. Girls dancing damn near naked on tables and guys dancing around with empty shot glasses.

“Oh my gosh they’re here!” One of the guys accidentally said a bit too loud, making some heads turn towards the girls.

“Seungyeon come dance with us!”

“Y/n come on we already have shots for you!”

“Elkie come get on the table with us!”

Multiple people were trying to holler at them in attempt to get their attention.

“Yeah it’ll be hard to stay sober tonight.” Elkie laughed.

“Uh huh. And when Taehyung gets here I’m dipping.” Seungyeon giggled.

“You’re still fucking with him?!” Both girls snapped their heads.

“Y’all don’t get it! He is soooo fine whenever he talks to me I just wanna do whatever the hell he wants.” Seungyeon swooned.

“She can’t be serious.” Elkie looked at you. “So let me get this straight. You’re fucking on Taehyung and you’re fucking on Jungkook. Should I just dance with Jimin tonight? Since we’re the three musketeers all of a sudden.”

“Okay Jungkook was an accident!” You defended. “You wanted weed didn’t you!”

“Cut the crap! It was one time” Elkie shook her head. “I can’t believe you two.”

“Whatever.” Seungyeon rolled her eyes. “You should go with me when I go talk to Taehyung. Omg! We can all hang out tonight!”

“Uh, did you forget we’re not on the best terms?” You interrupted her fantasy.

“You never are. Get over it.” Seungyeon rolled her eyes. “Elkie pleaseeee.”

“I can’t believe you.” Elkie kept shaking her head. “You guys are sick.”

“Who’s sick?” A voice interrupted them. “I don’t need any illness spreading around at my party.”

“Omg Jackson!” Seungyeon gasped.

“Hey ladies. Hey Y/n.” He gave you a side hug. “I knew you guys would come showing out.”

“Always. You know us.” Elkie giggled.

Jackson knew the girls very well. They’ve been around since his early party days, helping him promote and build up his status for the parties.

You always went above and beyond for him, offering to even financially support the parties during the time.

Now Jackson was so rich his party budget skyrocketed. All because of those girls he was able to be where he was now. He was more than grateful.

“I know. I shouldn’t have expected any less.” He chuckled, “I’ll tell the security upstairs about yall so don’t sweat anything okay?”

“You got new security?” You questioned him.

“Fuck yeah I did. Last party the security was too drunk to even do their fucking job. I was pissed.” Jackson shook his head.

“Everything’s all good now though,” He continued. “Gotta nice new set up and it’ll do y’all real good. I promise you won’t be disappointed. You ladies have fun, okay?”

“Thank you Jackson.” The three girls bid their goodbyes. They didn’t expect to speak to him for long, especially since he was running a huge party.

“Let’s hang out down here for a bit and then make our way up yeah?” You suggested, earning a nod from the girls.

“Unless it’s too hard for Seungyeon to keep herself away from Taehyungie” Elkie teased her.

“Oh my gosh I hate you.” Seungyeon groaned.

“Speaking of Taehyungie,” You eyes behind her. “Here comes the man of the hour now.”

“With a shit ton of girls at that.”

Seungyeon snapped her head his way. “Oh my gosh.”

“Don’t look!” Elkie turned her attention. “Act unbothered. You can’t let him know you care. Like Y/n when Jungkook calls!”

“Yeah— Okay whatever.” You rolled your eyes. “But she’s right. He’s with hella girls. He’s not thinking about you right now. You can’t act like you’re waiting for him.”

“Look at you miss love expert.” Elkie teased you. “Let’s get you drinking Seungyeon.”

“Yes! Let’s drink! Finally.” You clapped your hands.

The girls walked off to the bar, plenty of people wanting to take shots with them.

The girls played a few drinking games and partied on tables just like the girls before you.

It would be a lie to say Jungkook’s eyes weren’t locked on you.

It was just him, Taehyung, and Jungkook in their own little section, a few guys coming up to talk to them here and there.

“Oh my gosh I hate you guys.” Jimin groaned. “Taehyung you can’t do this to me too.”

“She’s so bad Jimin. I’m almost as bad as Jeon.” Taehyung stared down Seungyeon.

“I thought you wanted to drown yourself in pussy! You were hyping me and Jungkook up earlier!”

“I’m a big fat liar okay!” Taehyung folded.

Seungyeon and you were both dancing on tables, lost in your own little world with drinks in your hands.

Jungkook hadn’t said anything in a minute. Simply staring.

Damn did you show out.

He watched as many guys threw themselves at you, begging you to come down so they could have a piece.

What could he expect? You were a beautiful woman blessed with a body others would pay millions for. You could actually dance and you had looks that could kill.

You were a heavily desirable woman. Especially at a party like this where everyone knew of you.

He knew you weren’t gonna go home with any of these guys. None of them stood a chance.

He didn’t understand how he had one if he was honest.

The way you two started— having intercourse was wild and random. Just a random string of flirty led to you giving it up for him.

Goddamnit he missed you. It was a petty argument like usual. Him getting blocked just to get unblocked in the morning.

This time bothered him more than the others. Especially seeing you like this.

“Shoutout to these lovely ladies right here!” Jackson suddenly announced, all three girls surrounding him.

“My day ones right here” He said proudly.

Jackson wrapped his arm around your waist, pecking your cheek.

Interesting.

Jungkook hadn’t realized you two had become so close.

Was he the reason Jungkook wasn’t unblocked yet?

“Especially Ms. Y/n here. Shit would not be possible without her.” He spoke, making everyone cheer. “Everyone treat them well tonight alright?”

Elkie and Seungyeon cheered before Jackson walked off, finishing his announcement.

Why would it not be possible without you?

None of it made sense to Jungkook.

He downed a shot, hissing at the aftermath. It made Jimin look over.

“Someone’s mad.”

“Shut up.” Jungkook huffed. “I have no reason to be.”

The girls were laughing together and drinking a bit more.

Seungyeon kept stealing glances at Taehyung.

“Oh my gosh. She’s going insane.” Elkie pointed out Seungyeon’s constant tabs on Taehyung.

“Alright we’re going upstairs.” You motioned both girls to follow you to the next story.

“Jimin we have to follow them.” Taehyung watched as they left to go upstairs.

The man rolled his eyes.

Jungkook looked over, seeing Jackson look over that way too.

“Yeah.” Jungkook opened up his mouth. “Let’s go.”

The boys shortly followed them, heading upstairs.

This level was just as intense as the first floor. The only difference was that these people smoked a bit more than they drank.

“So many bad bitches in here.” Jimin looked around. “Nice move Tae.”

“Man who cares? Where the hell is she?” Taehyung looked over.

“Goddamnit.” Jimin cursed, forced to walk over to your friend group with Taehyung.

Jungkook wasn’t too thrilled either. Especially because he didn’t know how you were going to be like.

“Hey Seungyeon.” Taehyung approached her, making her instantly turn her head.

Poor girl had been waiting for that man to talk to her all night.

“Oh. Hey.” She kept it short, just like you and Elkie told her to.

“Let me get you and your girl friends some more drinks yeah?” He offered, making it harder to fight and say no.

“Please.” She caved in, making everyone follow them to the bar.

“Fucking great.” Jimin mumbled.


It was awkward as hell. Two odd couples and two random friends all forced to hang out together.

All because of Seungyeon and Taehyung.

Taehyung got all of them drinks like he said, everyone drinking together to ease up a bit.

Taehyung and Seungyeon were lost in their own conversation.

They were so corny it was making everyone extremely nauseous.

“Are you proud of her?” Jimin shook his head, speaking to Elkie. “Your friend single-handedly ruined my friend group.”

“My friend? Your boy here started it all.” She argued.

“Like hell he did. She took advantage of him.” He told her.

She laughed. “Who’s the one who’s supposed to just drop the shit off and go?”

“You can’t blame a man for just tryna get some.” Jimin shrugged. “Not his fault.”

“You’re delusional.” Elkie rolled her eyes.

“I like how you speak to me. You wanna go make out?”

“Sure.” Elkie shrugged, walking off with Jimin.

You’ve got to be kidding me.

You were alone with Jungkook.

“So,” You began to speak. “Which girl in the car was your favorite?”

“Is that seriously how you’re gonna start this?” Jungkook stared you down.

“Hell yeah.” You chuckled. “You’re a fucking prick. You’re childish and you’re just down right stupid. Sending me some photo of some bitches. Made you feel so good being with other girls huh?”

Started off strong already.

“You know what, it did. They didn’t have a fucking loud mouth like you do. Didn’t have to hear a bunch of bullshit every two seconds.”

“See this is exactly why you’re blocked.” You scoffed. “You’re a dick.”

“You block me all the time mama.” He shrugged nonchalantly. “Doesn’t mean shit.”

“Probably doesn’t mean anything because you’re too busy with all those other bitches.”

“Me? I’m not the one fucking the party host.” He argued back.

Your eyes widened at the accusation. “Oh wow.”

You weren’t going to deny it.

It wasn’t true. You never slept with Jackson.

But Jungkook thinking that you did was enough to satisfy you.

“We’ll come back to that.” Jungkook poked the inside of his mouth with his tongue.

He was obviously very irritated.

“You’re always so angry.” You groaned.

“Because you just manage to strike that one nerve.” He shook his head.

“You’re so aggressive all the time baby.” You eased him. “Let’s drink some more. Please?”

He shook his head. “Trying to sober up. Someone needs to take you home.”

“I can Uber back.”

“By yourself?” He scoffed. “Fuck no. Your friends are long gone and most likely gonna end up going home with Jimin and Tae. Who can’t drive.”

He wasn’t wrong.

Elkie and Seungyeon were going to town on them. The couples were drunken messes.

You agreed, continuing to drink. You two talked for a bit, somewhat civilly.

The both of you couldn’t help but check each other out.

For you, that alcohol came in through your mouth and went straight to your pussy.

Jungkook’s going straight to his dick. Probably why you two always had sex whenever you hung out.

“Let’s go to Jimin’s car.” Jungkook mumbled lowly to you, making you nod.

Jungkook lets out a low whistle as you walk next to him. He couldn't help but stare at your body.

You were so fucking beautiful, he thought to himself.

The car was a bit far from the entrance. The lot was big so the parking was a bit inconvenient.

However, it was hidden well enough.

He opened the backseat car door for you, waiting for you to get in.

You could sense he was still irritated with you. It was written all over his face and you could sense it in his body language.

His anger and irritation had the opposite effect on you, making your pussy wetter than it already was.

Jungkook started the car, letting out a heavy sigh as he pulled out of the parking lot.

He glanced over at you, his eyes scanning over your body. "You know, you make me so fucking angry sometimes..." He growled, his hand reaching over to grab your thigh.

“It’s not my fault. You started it this time.” You shook your head.

"I didn't start shit," Jungkook retorted, his eyes narrowing at you. "You did. You always fucking do."

He couldn't help but get more and more irritated with you.

The idea of you and Jackson weighed heavy on him.

You were fucking Jungkook for weed. Were you fucking Jackson for drinks and party invites?

“You did last night. That’s exactly why I blocked your ass. Always running your mouth.”

Jungkook's fingers tightened around the steering wheel. He couldn't believe you just said that. "You didn't have to block me. You’re so fucking dramatic."

He snapped at you, his anger getting the best of him. "I fucking hate you sometimes."

“Fine. Just drop me off right here then.” You replied, just as irritated with him now. “I’ll fucking walk home.”

“You're not fucking walking anywhere. I'll take you home." He gritted his teeth.

“Whatever. Just drive me home and you can just get rid of me after. Since that’s what you want so bad.” You folded your arms.

He couldn't believe how much of a stubborn girl you were, but he still couldn't help feeling attracted to you. Even when you were like this. "Why are you so fucking difficult?"

He glared at you for a moment before turning his attention back to the road.

“I’m not even doing anything.” You grabbed your purse once he pulled up to your place.

It was natural for Jungkook to let himself in. He did so again, despite their arguing.

“I thought you would approach me at the party to apologize. But no, you’re just arguing with me because you’re jealous of some guy!” You huffed.

Jungkook scoffed at your words. "Jealous? Fuck no. I just don't like seeing you with other guys, that's it."

“Yeah whatever.” You rolled your eyes, “You’re annoying. Your stupid pride won’t let you just admit it.”

You lifted up the couch cushion, a small bag of pre rolls packed away.

“You know what? Fine. I was jealous when I saw you with Jackson. Are you happy now? I fucking admitted it.

“Gonna fucking smoke with me or what?” She looked at him, ignoring him. “Got your two favorite things right here. Weed and arguing.”

He ignored her, grabbing his own preroll and lighting it up with her lighter.

“That’s all you’re gonna say?” He scoffed.

“Do you want a fucking cookie? Congrats, you actually told me the truth for once.” She took a few hits. “So you were jealous”

“Yeah, I fucking was. I don't like seeing you with other guys Y/n. It makes me want to rip their fucking heads off." He chuckled and shook his head. "Especially him.”

“Isn’t Jackson your homeboy?”

“Exactly. Why the fuck would I want to be fucking on the same girl as my bro? That makes me look like a fucking loser.” He glared at you.

“We were just catching up. We’ve known each other for mad long.” You defended.

Jungkook couldn't help but stare at you as you took a hit from the roll. He felt a surge of jealousy, but he tried to push it down.

"Just fucking catchin' up huh? With his bitch ass?" He chuckled and shook his head. "I know what kinda guy he is.”

“I know you’re not talking. Tell me, Jungkook. How many girls do you sell to that don’t pay cash? Too busy selling with their bodies.” She looked at him.

“Yeah? You’re gonna fucking start this shit again?” He chuckled, anger written all over his face. “I’ve told you the same shit over and over Y/n. I’m not fucking anyone else but you.”

“Car full of sleezy bitches all climbing on you? Yeah okay. Find that fucking hard to believe.

Jungkook understands your skepticism. Especially with the type of guys he hung around.

“Tell me this Jungkook.” You began, “How come it’s an issue when I’m with Jackson but when you’re with all these other girls I’m just supposed to believe you.”

Jungkook leaned in, his expression more serious now. He muttered. “I don’t want to do you like that.”

"I just get fucking pissed when I see other guys trying to fuck what's mine." He cocked his eyebrow.

“You’re annoying.”

Jungkook's gaze never left yours face as you rolled your eyes. He could tell you were irritated with him, but he didn't back down.

"I'm annoying cause I don't like seeing other guys around my girl?" He raised an eyebrow.

“Don’t like all these fucking guys tryna hop on you.” His eyes darkened as he stared down at you.

“I get it.” She sighed.

“Mm I don’t think you do.” He shook his head.

Jungkook turned you around, pushing you against the couch. "Fuck you piss me off. You’re just so fucking sexy" He growled, pinning your hands above your head.

"You're gonna let me fuck you like this?” He looked at you. “Because I’m fucking angry. And I’m not sure I’ll be able to give you that slow and lovey shit right now.”

You simply nodded. You swallowed hard, knowing exactly what was going to happen.

Weed made you horny.

Alcohol made you horny.

And you were definitely cross faded.

“Fucking open your mouth.” He moved his hand, now slapping you across your cheek.

It wasn’t enough to really hurt, but enough to leave a sting.

He seen your facial expression change. “No way. You actually like that shit?”

You two always had rough and angry sex. With the amount of times you two pissed each other off, it was like second nature.

This time was different. Jungkook was livid.

“I do.” You swallowed. “N-No condom tonight please.”

This was the first time ever. You never thought those words would ever leave your lips.

You needed it bad tonight. Real bad.

“Oh wow.” He laughed sarcastically. “You’re that sick? You get onto me every fucking day for asking to hit it raw. Now you want to?”

He almost couldn’t believe it. “Letting me toss you around like a fucking ragdoll. He fucking teach you about that shit?”

“N-No Jungkook.”

He slapped you once again. “Don’t fucking lie to me.”

“I promise. He didn’t.” You pleaded.

Jungkook let out a deep breath, knowing you submitted to him.

He moved his hand to your neck, squeezing enough for you to feel.

“Fucking embarrassing me.” He slid his pants down. “Got all my fucking friends talking about you. That what you wanted?”

“N-No.” You swallowed.

He slipped your skirt up, sliding your panties to the side.

He forcefully pushed himself inside, giving you not a single warning. “You let him fuck you raw did you?”

Staying still for a moment, knowing he would soon start fucking you with all the frustration he had in him.

“N-No I didn’t Jungkook.” You honestly replied.

“Not my fucking name.” He warned.

“You clearly wanted his attention Y/n. You think I ain’t notice that shit today?” His grip on your neck got slightly tighter.

“Changed your hair. Spending money to look good for him. Didn’t look in my fucking direction once. Get some new dick and you forget what you already have? Forgot about daddy’s dick?” He scoffed.

Jungkook's thrusts became more powerful, as he let out all the anger and jealousy he felt towards Jackson.

“T-That’s not what I—“

Jungkook's grip tightened on your hips, as he started thrusting. "Shut the fuck up Y/n." He grumbled, as he started pounding harder.

He smacked your ass, leaving a red mark. "Didn’t think you’d be this fuckin’ tight. Figured he stretched this pussy out.”

“H-He didn’t”

“You really have the fucking guys to speak to me right now?” He slapped her.

“Mmph— sorry daddy”

Jungkook grinned, hearing the slight tremble in your voice.

You couldn’t help but be turned on by how angry he was. How degrading he spoke to you.

Him expressing how jealous he was of Jackson definitely did a number on you.

"This.. is all yours, Y/n. It always has been." He slapped your face. "Don't.. you dare fuckin' look at him again. Don’t you fuckin’

dare question if I’m with other bitches or not.”

“Won’t— promise Daddy” She apologized.

Jungkook's expression changed to an angered confusion, as you apologized. "Sorry? You think.. You fuckin' deserve my mercy?"

He hissed as he stopped thrusting, grabbed you and forced you on all four. "I'll show you fuckin' sorry."

“You're mine to fuck. Mine to spoil. Mine to hug. Mine to love.” He grabbed your hair and pulled it back, as he started thrusting hard again. "And you just fucking gave that away?”

“No I— Daddy no I didn’t.” You whimpered.

Jungkook's thrusts became more violent as his anger continued to fuckin boil. "You.. You fuckin' slut," He growled and smacked your ass hard once again.

“D-Didn’t fuck him.” You confessed, swallowing. “N-Never fucked him.”

Jungkook stopped thrusting, his expression was furious, he looked at you with pure shock.

"You didn't fuck him?" He repeated between gritted teeth, not entirely sure if he should believe you or not. “Are you serious?”

“N-Never fucked him.” She hit her lip.

“So you lied?” His voice was low.

“I just never denied anything you said.” She confessed, a bit ashamed now that she was confessing out loud.

"Wow Y/n." He murmured lowly, making a pause in his thrusts, as he looked at you with confusion and shock. "And you made me do all this.”

“I-“ She felt her stomach drop.

Jungkook scoffed and shook his head in disbelief. He was still holding you by the throat, a little tighter now as his cock started to thrust intensely again. "Yeah, you did.”

Jungkook grunted, his thrusts became louder and more intense, holding you tighter. "You're a fucking slut.."

He whispered in a low voice, his hand starting to squeeze around your throat. He pulled himself out a bit to slap your face.

“Pulled all that just for some dick? Seriously Y/n?” He grunted into your ear.

“So sorry Daddy” She apologized softly, the sensual nickname slipping from her lips.

Upon hearing you call him "Daddy" his thrusts became more intense. Hearing it made him weak everytime.

A low growl sounded out from his throat again as your body was pushed back onto the bed with each thrust deeper into you.

He snickered, his hand reaching down to slap your ass cheek, hard. "You're a fucking whore.." He moans, his thrusts are so hard that he's smacking against your body. He leaned in to bite your neck.

“Finally got the dick you wanted? I can’t fucking believe you pulled that shit.” He grunted, utterly shocked. “Can’t fucking believe you did that.”

His thrusts became even more forceful, each hard smack against your ass echoing around you.

He moans as he bites into your shoulder, teeth grinding into your skin angrily. "Why'd you fucking lie to me?" He growls into your ear.

“Wanted you— Wanted your attention.” She whimpered. “Wanted to see how you felt.”

“Yeah? That’s how you fuckin’ wanted me to confess?” He roars out angrily, his grip tightening almost painfully.

“I-It worked…” She boldly whispered.

His glare is fire as he grabs your throat, pulling you back to look into your eyes.

"You like it when I get tell you how I feel? You fuckin’ like it?” He growls out, squeezing your throat tighter for a moment before letting go.

“I liked it Daddy” She bit her lip.

His jaw almost cracks from the intensity of his teeth grinding as he hears your response.

He begins to fuck you harder, losing his anger and going into a frenzy. "You’re so fucking lucky I love to abuse this pussy.”

“Shit feels so fuckin’ good Daddy— Fuck” She cursed repeatedly.

A low groan rips from his throat, feeling your walls squeezing around him at your curse. He liked when you talked dirty. “So fucking pretty like this.”

“Lying about other dudes is different for you baby..” He huffed. “You love this dick huh baby? Tell me.”

“Yes Daddy— I fuckin’ do.” You nodded quickly.

He leans back down, biting at your bottom lip and nodding.

"That's right, you love this dick, mama. Fucking take it then." He spoke lowly, encouraging you to get more vocal and naughty while he pounds into you.

“Feels so much fucking better raw.” She rolled her eyes back. “Should’ve fucking let you months ago.”

He lets out a growl, feeling how tight your walls are on him with no condom. He nods, agreeing and liking the feeling of you raw.

"That's right mama. You ain’t believe me when I said you were the only one. Should’ve been let me hit it raw.” He chuckled. “Gonna fuck you so good now though."

He's on the brink of losing it, he knows he's about to cum soon.

He looks down at you who’s absolutely fucked dumb on his cock.

He curses, slowing down just a tad. "You fucking loving that we're doing it raw now?”

“Feels so much fucking better now. W-Want you to cum inside too.” You begged, making his eyes widened.

“Are you serious?”

“W-Want it so bad I— Please.”

He groans, loving the idea at your request. “Pretty girl gonna let me cum inside, I couldn’t ask for more.”

He speeds up a little bit, slamming into you roughly and grunting. "That's right, fucking want my cum? Wanna turn mama into more than just a nickname huh?”

He dirty talked her so good.

“Mm yes Daddy yes.” She swallowed.

His eyes grow wide at the idea but he smirks while he continues to thrust into you hard, making a dirty scene in his head.

"That's right, I wanna fill your womb up with my kids, make them from your tight fucking pussy, don't fight it mama. So close” He mumbled in her ear.

“Shit I’m close too.”

He knows he's close too, groaning almost in pain from not cumming yet. He continues to fuck you relentlessly as you near the edge.

"Shit! Cum on my cock mama, you need to cum, you want to cum so bad don't you?"

“Cumming fuck” She immediately let go of the feeling building up in her stomach.

He's right on the edge with you, his cock swells up before he pulls out and shoots his hot load to the side of your stomach, he's not ready for kids, at least not yet.

He slumps backwards and curses. "Fucking shit.”

The two were panting on the couch, struggling to catch their breaths.

She panted. “I’m sorry for lying Jungkook. It was wrong of me to lie to you.”

He smirks and shakes his head but still looks at you with an amused expression.

"No need to apologize momma, we're fucking both dirty. Besides we both liked it didn't we?" He winks and wraps an arm around you.

“You’re really not mad?”

“I mean it irritated me a lot when I thought you fucked him.” He sighed. “I’m just relieved now.”

“When I told you I haven’t been with anyone else I meant it.” You told him. “That’s not

something I would lie about. Especially after I pressed you for so long.”

“I know. When I seen him touch you like that I just— I thought I lost you.” He looked at you. “I just kinda thought you were using me.”

“It’s not about weed for me anymore Jungkook.” You swallowed. “It hasn’t been for a while.”

“It was never about the weed for me.” He confessed. “I just wanted to see you since the beginning.”

“You thought that was a secret?” You couldn’t help but snort.

“Okay I’m never being vulnerable with you again.” He shook his head.

[minisugakoobies]

Yours for the Night | HHJ

Pairing: Hyunjin x Reader Genre: smut, porn with the barest of plot, frenemies to lovers, Model!AU Rating: M (18+) Warnings: so. much. cockiness from Hyunjin, arguing as a form of foreplay, a bit of dumbification, what's a little fucking between frenemies?, dick pics, exhibitionism, nipple play, mentions of slut shaming, grinding, fingerfucking, pinching, just a tiny bit of spit, unexpected use of pet names, oral sex (f receiving), wet and messy, biting, dirty talk, maybe a little degradation (talking about reader being cock stupid), unprotected sex (bc used), riding/cowgirl style, praise/use of "good girl," soft dom!hyunjin vibes, rough/hard sex, multiple positions, creampie, multiple orgasms Word Count: 8.8k Disclaimers: NSFW, obviously I don’t own SKZ - they just inspire me Summary: “Let me lay it out for you, so there’s no misunderstanding. If you can stop pretending for five seconds that you don’t want me the way I want you, you can have me tonight.” Or, Hyunjin makes you an offer you simply can't refuse.

A/N: I finished this earlier than expected, thanks to the inspiration that is Hyunjin at Milan Fashion Week. Have you seen him?? 🥵 Anyway, it's all because of his stunning beauty that this filthy lil pwp exists. Enjoy! 😘

Unbeta'd as usual. I would *love* to hear your thoughts - my inbox is always open (anon is on, but hateful comments will be blocked. Be kind, writers do this for free and with love!) 💕

SKZ Masterlist

 It’s Friday night, you’re out for drinks with your friends, and you are frustrated.

It’s not the club that’s bothering you. You’re here tonight at Felix’s request. He’d told you all it had been too long since you’d gone out as a group, so all nine of you and your friends crammed yourselves into a couple of rides and headed for downtown. 

Nor is it the incredibly tight, short, and backless dress you’ve poured yourself into that’s annoying you, though it’s certainly not helping. Your fingers anxiously grasp at the hem, tugging it down your thighs as you take a seat at the table where Felix and Seungmin are currently talking.

No, it’s something personal that has you wound tighter than a corset tonight. Work has been kicking your ass lately, and it’s put a huge damper on your sex life. You haven’t been out with anyone new in the last few months. Haven’t had any time to reach out to any of your small group of casual hookups who would typically lend a hand. Most nights you’ve even been too tired to masturbate. 

Put simply, you’re ready to fucking pop. 

Which is why you’re wearing this bodybinding dress and staring at the dance floor like a wildcat stalking its prey, searching to find someone to help you with your problem. Unfortunately, you’ve been here for hours, and no one’s caught your eye so far. 

Your clutch rattles on the table, drawing your attention. Everyone who would usually text you is here, so out of curiosity, you take out your phone. The notification tells you that Hyunjin sent you a photo. 

You glance across the room at where Hyunjin is sitting in a booth with Changbin, deep in conversation. Why would he send you a photo right now?

Your confusion only grows when you look at the photo. It’s a selfie, Hyunjin raising his champagne glass in a toast to the camera, perfectly tousled dark hair spilling over his brow as he fixes you with his signature smirk. It’s a gorgeous shot, of course, because he’s a gorgeous man, but again, why is he sending you selfies in the middle of tonight’s celebration? Or at all? Hyunjin’s never been the type to send you photos before, of himself or the group or anything. 

He’s never really been the type to text you, period, outside of the group chat. Probably because the two of you aren’t really friends. Frenemies would be more accurate. You share the same group of friends, but have nothing else in common. Which is fine, you don’t have to be close to hang out, but he’s… well… he’s an acquired taste, and you’ve never developed an appreciation. Hyunjin’s snooty and cocky - overly so, in your opinion, even if he is the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen. Most of your conversations consist of nothing but arguing. He’s very stubborn and loves to get the last word in on everything. Which drives you crazy because you prefer to have the final say. 

So to say this sudden selfie has you perplexed is an understatement.

Ignoring whatever Felix and Seungmin are talking about, you fire off a question. 

You: What is this? Hyunjin: Are you that drunk? It’s me

Reflexively, you scowl at your screen.

You: I know it’s you You: But WHY are you sending me a photo of yourself? Hyunjin: You’ve been staring at me all night Hyunjin: I thought maybe you’d like something to take home, to keep

Again, you look over, only to find him looking at you, lips curled to match his photo. Heat flames through you. Could he be more conceited? 

Maybe the vanity isn’t totally unearned, considering that he’s an actual model, making a living using his ethereal beauty to sell products. His own lifestyle is just as luxurious as the images he appears in. Like right now, he’s wearing the finest black suit, obviously couture, with a few silver necklaces draped over his tie that you’ve no doubt cost more than your entire outfit alone. 

And sure, he has a jawline carved by the gods, thick eyebrows that frame expressive, cat-like eyes, and ridiculously pouty lips that you’ve found yourself staring at once… an hour on average. Maybe in your weakest moments you’ve even dreamt about what it would be like to kiss those lips. 

But does that mean he has to be a dick all the time?

You: You’re such an ass Hyunjin: Deny it all you want, but we both know you can’t keep your eyes off me Hyunjin: Not that I blame you You: It’s amazing your head still fits through doors Hyunjin: You’d be the first to notice if it didn’t

Your nostrils flare. No matter what you say, he always flips it back on you. Admittedly, you are a little tipsy, so you’re not fully on your game, but it’s still annoying as fuck. And right now, you really don’t need another reason to be frustrated.

You: Whatever, Hyunjinnie

You cast another glance at Hyunjin, delighting in the way he frowns at your response. He hates it when you call him that.

You take a moment to locate the rest of your friends. Changbin’s still sitting with Hyunjin. Jeongin and Chan are doing shots at the bar. Minho and Jisung are in their own little world on the dance floor, arms draped around one another. Neither Felix nor Seungmin seemed to have noticed that you have dropped out of their discussion. Part of you feels guilty for ignoring them, but, well, you’re a little fired up now, and the only thing that would make you feel better would be getting the last word in with Hyunjin for once.

You take a sip of your cocktail, floating the cold liquid on your tongue as you devise your next line of attack, when your phone buzzes again. 

Hyunjin: I have another photo for you You: Why? Hyunjin: Because I think you’d like it You: Oh really? Like you know what I like Hyunjin: Always so argumentative Hyunjin: You’re pretty easy to figure out Hyunjin: The staring makes it incredibly obvious

Such an ass.

You: Fuck off Hyunjin: I will not You: What’s your game, man? Hyunjin: No game Hyunjin: Can’t I just do something nice for you?

The man is a riddle. An enigma draped in Versace. 

You type out “I guess there’s a first time for everything” and press send, putting your phone down long enough to watch him get the text. Hyunjin laughs to himself, smiling down at his screen, and there’s this weird feeling of satisfaction in your stomach at the sight. Whatever, you like making people laugh, even assholes like him. So what.

You tell yourself that you’re not going to wait at his beck and call, jumping to read his texts as they come in, if in fact he keeps sending them, but then your phone vibrates again and you snap it up immediately, because you’re a liar.

Hyunjin: Just trust me Hyunjin: You want this Hyunjin: But I want something first You: Oh here we go You: There’s the catch A hand waves over your phone. “Hi, hello, are we boring you?” 

Quickly, you turn it over before Seungmin can see your text thread. “No, sorry, I was just, uh - “

“Hey, leave her be,” your savior Felix says, pushing Seungmin lightly. “She’s had a rough couple of weeks. She shouldn’t have to suffer through your boring work stories, too.”

“Hey!” 

Seungmin and Felix dissolve into arguing as you covertly flip your phone back over. 

Hyunjin: I’m not asking much Hyunjin: Just a photo of you. A photo for a photo

He can’t be serious.

You: I’m not sending you a nude Hyunjin: Did I say nude? No, I did not Hyunjin: A normal selfie, that’s all

Again your suspicion rises. What is he playing at? Where is this going? 

You: But WHY? Hyunjin: Maybe I can’t stop staring, either

Your breath catches in your throat. When you look up, he’s gazing at you again, but his expression is less smug than usual and more… ravenous. 

You turn away so fast, your neck cracks. 

Hyunjin: So? Send me a pic.

There’s no reason for you to agree to this. Absolutely no reason at all. Beyond, of course, your burning curiosity. 

It’s really going to get you in trouble one day.

Grabbing your clutch, you slip off your chair. “Ladies room,” you announce, glancing at Felix and Seungmin, who aren’t listening anyway, still squabbling. You wander just far enough out of sight of your friends, find a spot with good lighting back near the bar (because even if it’s just for Hyunjin, your vanity will not let you take an unflattering photo), and snap a quick picture, firing it off right away. 

As you’re sliding back into your seat, your phone vibrates. Hyunjin sent another photo. 

You swallow reflexively. Holy shit. It’s a shot of his crotch, dress pants straining to contain what is clearly a massive cock, gripped through the fabric by long fingers.

Hwang Hyunjin sent you a dick pic. 

So it’s not big dick energy, it’s just big dick, is the first coherent thought you have once the screeching inside your head stops. It occurs to you that you’ve been gawking unblinkingly at your phone for at least several minutes, so you raise your head to make sure your friends aren’t watching you, and thankfully they’re not. Really, you should know better than to underestimate just how much Felix and Seungmin love to bicker.

But what are you supposed to say to Hyunjin now? Your thumbs hover, waiting for inspiration, but you’re stuck. 

Hyunjin: Wow, are you speechless? Hyunjin: Guess there really is a first time for everything

Even without looking, you know he’s smirking at you from across the room. Suddenly, you need another drink, so you mumble “bar” in Felix’s direction and stumble away. As the bartender mixes you another cocktail, you grip your phone tightly, waging an inner war with yourself. 

You should look at the photo again. You shouldn’t look at the photo again. You should delete it, and Hyunjin’s number, and maybe throw the phone in the nearest trash bin too, just for extra comfort. But holy fuck, do you want to look at the photo again!

What you really don’t want is to think about the effect that photo has had on your pussy, because it’s humiliating how much she’s throbbing right now. 

“I’ll take one of those as well, thanks.” A hand waves towards the bartender, and your treacherous brain immediately recognizes those fingers as the fingers from Hyunjin’s photo, and starts picturing what those lithe digits would look like wrapped around your throat. Great. Now your brain has joined your pussy. Traitors. 

You say nothing as Hyunjin takes the seat next to you. Partly because you don’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing he’s gotten under your skin again, albeit in a very different way, but also partly because you’re still not sure what to say. 

“You know,” Hyunjin bends towards you, close enough for his warm breath to tickle your ear, “if I’d known that all it would take to get you to stop arguing with me was showing you my cock, I would’ve introduced you much sooner.” 

“God, you are just - just the worst,” you snarl, teeth clenched hard enough to give you a headache. 

“Now really, is that any way to speak to someone who just gave you a gift?” Hyunjin sips his drink calmly. 

Well, there’s the Hyunjin you recognize. What you don’t understand is how he’s still making your cunt drip with need. All you can think about right now is what he’s hiding under those suit pants. Are you really this dumbstruck by cock? 

(Yes. Yes, you are.)

“Me and every other woman in this club, I bet. You probably air dropped it to the whole room.” You wouldn’t put it past him. Maybe that was his plan the whole time - work you up then leave you begging while he hooked up with someone else. As if you’d beg. 

“Oh no, that was just for you.” 

“Uh-huh, sure.” 

With a roll of his eyes, Hyunjin clicks his tongue. “Come on. You know how selective I am when it comes to my clothes or my liquor. Why would I be any less selective about who I fuck?” 

“Who you fuck?” Whoa, who said anything about fucking? Besides your duplicitous brain and pussy. “Who - who said - that’s not - I mean -” You’ve suddenly become the Big Bad Wolf, huffing and puffing, unable to form a complete sentence. 

Hyunjin rises, leaning over you as you gaze up at him from your barstool. He places his hands on the bar, one arm on either side of you, bracketing you in, wild eyes trailing down your figure slowly before he smiles, hungry and sharp, and you realize, no, here’s the wolf. 

“Listen, there’s no reason we can’t fuck. Friends fuck all the time.” His hand glides over your shoulder, light as a feather, and you watch dazedly as goosebumps ripple along your skin. His touch is electric. 

“Is that what we are? Friends?” 

Hyunjin shrugs, lips twisted in a droll smile. “Close enough. This doesn’t have to be complicated. You said it yourself - you’re in need.”

“What? When did - I never said that!” Again you struggle to speak coherently, sputtering in your confusion.

Hyunjin frowns. “Ah, you’re right, I misspoke. That was Felix who said that, wasn’t it? On the ride here?” 

You curse inwardly, remembering the private discussion you and Felix had had on the way to the club, when you were discussing your dry spell. Or at least, it was supposed to be private, but obviously someone had been listening in. Felix had offered to play wingman for you, saying he wouldn’t let anything keep him from helping you “in your time of need” - a bit dramatic, but that was Felix for you. 

You’d waved him off, insisting that you could snag someone without any help. But here you are, drowning your sorrows at the bar with no possibilities in sight. Maybe you should’ve accepted Felix’s help after all. 

“That’s not…” Sighing, you shrug. There was no point in trying to deny what he’d heard. “Fine, yeah, I came here tonight hoping to leave with someone, but I didn’t mean you!” 

“That’s because you didn’t know I was an option.” Again his gaze travels down your body, lingering like a slow caress. “But after seeing the way you look tonight, I had to offer myself up.” 

Always. So. Cocky. You want to deny that his words have an effect on you. Want to. But can’t.

And like that, your resolve starts to slip. 

“You really want to help me out?” you ask. He nods, irises blown as his eyes flicker to yours, and it puts fire in your belly, has you biting your lip in contemplation. “What makes you think you have what I need?”  

Hyunjin doesn’t bother to check if any of your friends are watching as he steps closer, like he doesn’t care if anyone sees the way he cups your cheek. Or how he slides his thumb over your lips, dragging the bottom one down before lowering his mouth towards yours. He hangs there, just for a second - just long enough for you to tip your face up in a wordless answer.

His touch has nothing on his kiss. Your whole body thrums from head to toe, fizzing like the champagne on your tongue earlier, sweet and effervescent. His hand falls to your hip, squeezes there suddenly, and you feel a rush of heat between your thighs. 

Hyunjin’s plush lips part, letting the tip of his tongue briefly nudge against yours before he pulls away, leaving you blinking dumbly. He lets out a low chuckle, gently wiping a drop of spit from your chin. 

“I just know.”

You’re too busy licking the inside of your lips, hunting for any lingering trace of him, to respond.  

“Let me lay it out for you, so there’s no misunderstanding. If you can stop pretending for five seconds that you don’t want me the way I want you, you can have me tonight.” His eyes dip to your mouth and back, and you find yourself holding your breath, waiting for him to make a move again. Needing him to. “Just think about it.” 

And then he walks away, leaving you nearly toppling off your seat, floundering in his wake. 

The ice cubes in your cocktail have all but melted by the time you remember you ordered another drink. Sipping it slowly, you replay the last several minutes in your head. Did all of that just happen? Did Hyunjin really just offer himself to you? And then kiss you like that?

You feel like you’re going out of your mind. 

“Just think about it.” 

Hyunjin’s last words echo in your head as you wander on wobbly legs back towards the table where Felix and Seungmin are still standing. 

And oh, god, do you think about it. 

For the rest of the night, no matter how many conversations you have with your other friends, no matter how hard you dance, no matter what you do - the sole thought occupying your brain is what it would be like to fuck Hyunjin. Again and again, you picture him above you, beneath you, behind you, big cock stretching you out, making you scream his name. 

But it’s not worth it to give in to him. It can’t be. Good dick - if it’s good - can’t be enough to undo all the annoying shit he does, can it?

You cut yourself off early in the night, explaining that someone needs to stay sober enough to call for rides, but really you’re afraid that if you get completely blitzed, you’ll end up admitting something you don’t want to admit and going home with Hyunjin. Your friends honor your noble sacrifice by achieving impressive levels of drunk, ranging from delightful (Felix repeatedly booping you on the nose, calling you his “widdle buddy”) to disastrous (Chan, who gets upset when the guy he hits on in the bathroom doesn’t respond - turns out he was hitting on his own reflection - before falling asleep in a stall). 

Since the club is in the middle of downtown, you arrange for two cars to pick you and your friends up - one heading east, one heading west. Changbin, Chan, Hyunjin, and you pile into the ride heading west. Changbin hops into the passenger’s seat before you can slip in, leaving you smushed in the back between Hyunjin and Chan’s gigantic thighs. 

Said thighs are splayed a bit as Chan’s head lolls back, a loud snore erupting out of him as the car makes its first stop outside Changbin’s apartment. 

“Can’t take him anywhere,” Changbin grunts, snapping a rather unflattering photo of Chan sleeping with his mouth wide open, obviously saving it to drop in the group chat at the most opportune time. “Can you two make sure he gets home okay? I know it’s a bit out of the way, but, well, look at him.” 

Chan continues to rumble like a fighter jet, unaware of everything going on around him. 

“Yeah, don’t worry, we got him,” Hyunjin replies, and you just nod. “Night, ‘Bin.” 

Changbin gives the driver Chan’s address and then he ducks out of the cab. Your place is technically the next closest, but getting Chan back to his place safe and sound is the priority. 

With Chan sleeping next to you, it’s basically just you and Hyunjin alone now. A fact that has also occurred to Hyunjin, whose hand has been drifting further and further around your waist the entire ride. Now it slides around openly, tucking you against his side. You could fight it if you so desired - he’s not holding you tightly. He’s giving you the chance to escape. 

You’re not sure you want to.

“Have you thought about it?” he murmurs, nose against your ear. 

Your body reacts to the tone of his voice, thighs rubbing together, as you nod. 

“And what did you decide?” 

“I - I don’t know.” 

A puff of air tickles your skin as he laughs derisively. “Do you really need some convincing?” 

Chan snuffles loudly, reminding you that there’s another person right next to you, since your entire focus is on Hyunjin, and the way his hand is now creeping beneath the open back of your dress, and slowly moving up your rib cage. 

When he cups your left breast, you stifle a gasp. But you can’t stop the tiny “ah!” that escapes when he gently pinches your nipple. You attempt to cover it with a cough, hoping the driver’s lack of visible response means he didn’t hear you. Meanwhile, next to you, Chan doesn’t stir. 

“Feel good?” Hyunjin coos quietly. “Must’ve felt good, given the way you’re squirming right now.” 

Your hips have started to rock of their own volition. Brain, hips, pussy, all on your shit list. 

“But just think how much better it’ll feel when it’s my mouth.” His tongue flicks the shell of your ear before he sucks your earlobe into his warm mouth. A preview of what’s to come. It makes you squirm even harder, dying for any sort of relief for the aching between your legs. 

Remarkably, you manage to speak, hissing, “You’re a demon.” 

Hyunjin laughs. “You’ve no idea.” 

His hand stays where it is until the car pulls up at the curb outside Chan’s house. It takes a minute for the two of you to wake Chan, then another minute for him to realize where he is, then yet another minute for him to slide out of the car. Hyunjin sighs and also climbs out of the cab to make sure Chan gets into his house safely. 

When Hyunjin returns, the driver glances in the rearview mirror. “So, one more stop, or two?” 

You blink at the question. The air in the cab feels heavy with implication. Hyunjin says nothing, but looks at you expectantly, and you understand - the choice is yours.

You glance at your hands, as if they’ll help you choose. Your watch informs you that it’s 2:12 in the morning. Don’t they always say not to trust any decisions you make after two am?

When the driver clears his throat a little too loudly, Hyunjin’s fingers grip your chin. 

“Well? You heard him - one stop or two?” 

You meet his gaze, surprised to find a fire burning in his eyes. 

Maybe you’d be a fool to run towards it, seeking warmth where there might only be danger. 

Fine, then. You’re a fool. 

“One.” 

With a satisfied grin, Hyunjin gives the driver his address.

You’re a little tense during the elevator ride up to Hyunjin’s apartment. Hyunjin, on the other hand, looks completely relaxed, quietly leaning against the wall with his normal blasé expression on his face. Like you’re not about to cross a boundary here that you never expected to cross. Like this was inevitable. 

As soon as you’re both inside and his door is locked, he turns to face you, and you suck in a deep breath, waiting impatiently for him to touch you again. 

Instead, he asks, “Do you want some water?” 

“Um, yeah, sure.” 

He must read confusion on your face - at least, you hope it looks like confusion and not disappointment - because the corner of his mouth lifts in a small smile. 

“A few questions first,” he says, walking into his kitchen, sliding his suit jacket off as he goes. “Are you in good health?”

“Am I - am I in good health?”

Hyunjin tuts. “I’d ask if you need me to repeat myself but clearly you heard the question.” 

You stare at his back, brows furrowing as you decipher his meaning. “Are you asking if I’ve been tested recently? Yes, I have been. Nothing to report.” 

“Good, me too,” he replies, yanking his tie off and tossing it onto the counter before opening the fridge and grabbing you both a bottle of water. He eyes you as he opens his. “Are you on birth control?”

“Is this what you’re like on a date? Does your foreplay always involve interrogating your partner with clinical questions?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” He tilts his head back as he drinks, so he doesn’t catch the glare you shoot his way. “Answer the question.” 

“Yes, dick, I’m on birth control.” You take a swig of your water. The memory of his touch in the taxi is fading more and more with every second that passes. With a clearer head, you’re starting to question if you’ve made the right choice. 

“Good,” he repeats, wiping his mouth. “I prefer to fuck raw.” 

You clench around nothing at the thought, but scowl anyway. “What about what I prefer?” 

Hyunjin just hums, fingers brushing your cheek before they tap under your chin. “Do you want me to use a condom?” There’s no drollness or sarcasm to his tone. He’s genuinely asking. 

“No.” Your pride takes a tiny hit at the way you answer him immediately, without hesitation.

Just as quickly as his gentle tone came, it disappears again, vanishing as Hyunjin flashes a smug smile. “That’s what I thought.”

“That’s what - oh fuck off.” There he is again, that cocky asshole. Reflexively, you curse at him, ready to fight. “Fuck you, you don’t know anything about me.”

“How many times do I need to tell you that I do? You’re so easy to read.” 

“Really?” Okay then. You’ll call his bluff. “Go ahead, Hyunjinnie. Tell me what I like.” 

He rolls his eyes. His fingers make quick work of his cufflinks, setting them on the granite top beside him, and he slides his sleeves up, revealing toned forearms beneath. 

“Well, for starters, you love getting under my skin with that infantile nickname.” 

“No shit. Everyone knows that.” 

“You live for arguing, especially with me. Can’t let a single sentence go by without snapping back.” 

“Maybe that’s because you’re always wrong.”

Hyunjin doesn’t take the bait, merely leans back against the counter, examining you so openly that you feel exposed, so you cross your arms, as if that will help you block his penetrating gaze. He takes a few seconds before speaking again. 

“No, it’s not that. Though I’m sure that’s what you tell yourself. If it were, you wouldn’t be here right now.” 

He speaks so calmly, so self-assuredly. It’s maddening, even though you’re burning with curiosity. Makes you want to know more, so you press him again. “Okay, then - what is it? Why am I here?” 

“Because you wanted someone to take control.” He spreads his arms wide. “And here I am.” 

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” 

“You know. You want someone else to be in charge. Make the decisions. Do the work for you. Then fuck you so hard that all those thoughts just fly right out of that pretty little head of yours.” He says it all so matter-of-factly, like it’s completely evident, your deepest desires laid bare for all to witness.

You want to dismiss his words, act like he’s so far off the mark that he’s on another planet, but you’re too surprised by his answer to respond with anything other than stunned silence. His arrogant smile returns. Clearly he was expecting you to fight, so your lack of a snappy comeback only confirms to him that he’s right. 

“Just look at what you’re wearing,” he continues. “That tight dress screams ‘please fuck me stupid!’ Lucky for you, that’s exactly what I intend to do.”

You find your voice. “Oh, now you’re judging my clothing? And - and slut shaming me?” 

“Please. I’m always judging your clothing. But it’s a taste thing, not some sort of moral judgment.” He smirks. “And I’m very supportive of sluts, thank you.” 

As he sips his water, you replay the entire evening in your mind. Sending you the photos. Kissing you. Making the offer. Fuck. He really did do the work for you tonight. Was there ever a chance you were going to say no? Judging by Hyunjin’s attitude, this moment was never in doubt. He knew you’d end up here with him.  

The other realization that dawns on you is - you’re not mad about any of that. The only thing you’re mad about is that, once again, he’s right about something. And he knows it. 

Okay. Fine. You want to be fucked stupid. But does he have to be so fucking rude about it??

“Maybe this was a bad idea.”

He suddenly steps towards you. His expression is so intense that you move without thinking, backing all the way into the fridge. Your heart feels like it might burst through your ribcage at the slightest provocation, breath leaving your lungs in tiny exhalations as his thumb ghosts your cheek. 

Not because you’re scared. Because you’re excited.

“Tell me you don’t want to kiss me.”

Hyunjin says the words softly, but there’s a firmness to his gaze that makes you swallow hard.

Your lips don’t move. 

He kisses you. Wraps his hands around your waist, pulls you to his demanding mouth, head turning this way and that as his lips crash onto yours.

You kiss him back. Just as greedily, just as deeply. 

His hand strokes your thigh. “Tell me you don’t want me to touch you.”

You make no noise.

His fingers crawl beneath your skirt, dancing over the silk of your underwear. Your gasp warms his tongue. A throaty growl chokes him.

“So wet for me.” He brings his hand up to show you the evidence, skin glistening. As if you didn’t already know.

He surges forward, pinning you to the fridge, mouth blazing a trail from your ear to your neck as his fingers press into your soaking slit.

“Ah, Hyunjin!” you whimper, clutching wildly at his bicep. The swell of his arm bulges as his fingers slowly search your inner walls, like they’re mapping every inch of you. When they trace over your g-spot, they linger, brushing again and again. “Oh my god!”

“Tell me,” he implores, husky voice breaking, like he’s barely in control, “tell me to stop and I will. Tell me you don’t want this - don’t want me - and I’ll call you a ride and we’ll never talk about this again.” 

His forehead bumps yours, eyes smoldering with bright intensity, hand still plunging.

This time, you speak, chest heaving as you gasp for air.

“Don’t - don’t stop. Please, don’t stop.”

A smile spreads across Hyunjin’s face. He pulls you closer, wrapping an arm around your waist, the other hand still working between your thighs. You moan, feeling his erection digging into your hip as he presses himself against you, holding you firmly in place while he adds a third finger to the two already fucking you open. 

“Say it,” he commands, mouth wet and hot on your cheek. “Tell me what you want.” 

“I want, oh, fuck, I, I want you to fuck me, Hyunjin.”

In an instant, he’s disentangled himself from you, and you can’t help but whine very loudly at the sudden loss of his fingers. Hyunjin just smirks at your naked desperation, spinning you around so you’re in front of him. 

“Come on,” he says, lightly pinching your ass to make you move. You yelp, smacking him on the arm, but he just laughs. “I’m not fucking you in here. Let’s go.” 

“Asshole,” you curse, but you go anyway, because all you want is for him to touch you again, and if he’s refusing to do it in here, then why would you want to stay? You’re going wherever his hands go. 

Maybe you should feel ashamed, for giving in so easily. But you don’t. All you feel is desire. This is what you want. What you need. 

Hyunjin’s fingers press lightly on the small of your back as he guides you down the hallway to his bedroom. It’s just as ostentatious as the rest of his place - expensive-looking light fixtures hanging from the ceiling, dark leather headboard and frame for his gigantic bed, which is covered in piles of plush-looking blankets and pillows. There’s a gorgeous painting taking up most of the wall above his bed. 

He doesn’t give you much time to admire the room, because as soon as you’re in front of the bed, he spins you again, hands reaching for the zipper of your dress, sliding it to the ground, leaving you standing there in nothing but your panties. Before you can tell him to stop pushing you around, he’s kissing you fervently, like he’s been dying the entire time his mouth has been away from yours these last few minutes, and suddenly you forget that you’re irritated. 

Hyunjin backs you onto the bed, breaking away from your lips long enough to urge you to move towards the headboard, unbuttoning his shirt and tossing it to the side as he follows. When his fingers grab for his belt, they find yours already there, making short work of the buckle. He groans in delight, deciding to use his hands to grope your bare breasts while you unzip his pants. 

“Can’t wait to see it in real life, huh?” he asks, dragging his thumbs over your nipples. He chuckles when you just whimper, back arching slightly to encourage him to keep touching you.

The truth is, yes, you can’t wait to see Hyunjin’s massive dick, but more importantly, you can’t wait to feel it inside you, so you continue with your task, pushing his pants and boxers down together. And god, what a cock it is, long and thick and positively darkened with need. Smeared drops of excitement coat the head, and the sight makes your mouth water. 

He rises up to kneel between your legs, grabbing his cock with one hand and giving it a few lazy pumps. “Well? Don’t tell me you’re speechless again.” 

“Goddamn it,” you huff in exasperation, “you’re the fucking worst.” But you can’t stop staring as he gently squeezes the head, making a pleased noise, relieving himself a little while he watches you writhe in impatience. 

“You’ll be singing a different tune in a moment, sweetheart.” 

Your nose wrinkles at how easily ‘sweetheart’ drips off his tongue. “Just put it in me already,” you demand, leaning back on your elbows, licking your lips as you peer up at him, trying to send a blatant “fuck me!” signal with every inch of your body. 

Hyunjin tuts, lifting one of his gorgeously thick eyebrows. “Right to it? Is that what you really want?” In one swift motion, he hooks a finger under your panties and drags them down and off. It’d be a more impressive move if anyone but him were doing it. 

“I just… I thought we were gonna fuck?” Isn’t that what you’re here for?

“Of course we are. But is that how you typically do it? No foreplay, no build up?” His fingers rake down your stomach, trail over your thighs, causing your body to twitch with shivers. “That doesn’t sound like any fun at all.”

It’s not how you’d prefer to do this, no. You’re just surprised that he agrees. So you say nothing in reply, visibly closing your mouth while he maneuvers you into position, pushing your legs up so your knees bend, your thighs meeting your stomach, completely exposing your cunt to him. 

“That’s better. Just let me play with you a little first, sweetheart. I promise you’ll like it.” 

Your instinct is to argue with him, tell him he has no idea what you’d like, but you’ve already done that tonight. And you were wrong. So again, you bite your tongue. 

Until he extends his own, letting a string of spit fall onto your pussy.

“Ew, Hyunjin!” You’re disgusted, but not with him. Why do you find that so hot?

“Too much?” he inquires, letting go of your legs as he glances at you. You’re not sure you’ve ever seen a real expression of concern on his face before. It rattles you slightly. 

Biting your lip, you shake your head. “No - keep going.” 

He nods, hands reaching for your thighs again. “If I hit any hard no’s for you, say something, and I promise I’ll stop, okay?” 

“I will.” 

He bows over you again, licking a straight line up your slit. With a moan, you let your head drop back against the pillows. His mouth feels absolutely divine.

Where others in the past just dove in, Hyunjin takes his time. He drags his tongue around slowly, licking through your soaking folds, tasting you. It reminds you of the way you’d seen him drink a really fine whisky, holding it in his mouth, quietly identifying every note, every flavor. Relishing, instead of rushing. 

When his lips brush over your clit, leaving teasing kisses, you moan. Hyunjin hums, a self-satisfied little rumble, and lifts his head. “See? Told you you’d like this.” 

“Please, shut up and suck my clit.” It’s meant to be an order but definitely sounds like a pathetic whine. Whatever, as long as he listens. 

He listens. Those plush lips that you can’t stop yourself from staring at roll over your already throbbing little nub and warm pleasure runs down your spine before pooling in your belly. His dark hair keeps falling in his face, obscuring him from your view, and for some reason you can’t have that. Tentatively, you reach out, hand shaking a little. 

Hyunjin hums when your fingers slide through his soft locks, pushing the strands back, holding them in place so you can see his eyes, the way they squeeze shut when he sucks noisily on your clit. The sounds he makes are so loud, completely uninhibited, moaning and grunting as his lips smack and his tongue laps. 

He uses said tongue to fuck you expertly, his movements so confident, so sure. He reads every quiver, listens to every moan, figures out how to work you up with quick, teasing shallow plunges, before slowing it down, going deeper, tongue brushing your walls like he’s speaking a language only your body understands. 

“Hyunjin,” you sigh, unable to tear your eyes away from him. 

His mouth parts from you long enough for him to speak. “There it is. There’s the tone I was looking for. Enjoy this, sweetheart. I know I am.” 

You’re enjoying it so much that you unexpectedly whimper when he stops again a moment later, feeling a little embarrassed as he exhales a quiet laugh into your warmth. “Just hold on,” he murmurs, dragging his tongue up your slit to pass over your clit again and again, before sliding a finger into your clenching hole.

“Ohhhh.” 

The combination is so good, his finger filling you while his mouth suctions to you, that your eyes flutter shut. He pulls out and glides back in, all the way to his knuckles in one smooth motion, your wet folds parting so easily for him. He’s done an amazing job of spreading your slickness around, coating your inner thighs, messing his bed beneath you. 

“Gonna make you come,” Hyunjin says, spreading you open with two fingers now. “Need you to come before I can fuck you just like you want. Can you do that for me?”

The tension in your gut tells you that that shouldn’t be a problem. Both fingers have curled inside you, stroking over your soft spot, making you pant, clutching Hyunjin’s satin sheets for dear life. 

“Hy-Hyun-”

Before you can even finish saying his name, the tension snaps, nerves firing from your cunt to your toes, causing your legs to lock up. Hyunjin groans, moving his hands to grasp at your thighs, trying to loosen their squeeze. 

“Easy, sweetheart, don’t take me out just yet.” When your body finally starts to relax, he grins. “There we go. Good girl.”

If this were any other time, you’d snap at him for dropping that pet phrase on you. But you’re too blissed out at the moment, practically purring as he starts to kiss his way up your torso. 

When he reaches your breasts, he joins you, a low rumble sounding from the back of his throat. His nose nuzzles between them, as he leaves loud kisses on their swelling curves. 

Another thing Hyunjin isn’t wrong about - his mouth feels much better than his fingers do on your nipples, tongue gliding like warm velvet against the pert nubs. You continuously moan, until you’re nearly panting, fingers once again finding his dark locks and threading themselves between. 

“How am I doing, sweetheart?” he murmurs.

“Good.” It doesn’t even occur to you to tell him anything but the truth. “So good, Hyunjinnie. Ah!” You flinch as he suddenly nips the other nipple, teeth clamping gently. “Why?!” 

“You and that damn nickname. I must not be doing enough if you’re still calling me that.” He rises onto his knees, shaking his head. “Guess I just gotta fuck it out of you.” 

And just like that, you feel that spark again. 

“Sure you will, Hyunjinnie,” you simper, voice dripping with honey, so sickeningly-sweet as you coo his name. It has the desired effect, making Hyunjin’s eyes flash. 

He reaches for you, pulling you up into his lap, before you can so much as breathe. “You doubting me, sweetheart?” His hands press into your hips, urging you down on him. Both of you groan as his cock slides along your cunt, and the sparks inside you ignite. 

“I’m not your sweetheart,” you spit back, feeling that familiar sense of agitation, but it’s not annoyance now, it’s anticipation. 

“And I’m not really yours, but let’s play pretend for the night,” he drawls, and you look at him with wide eyes, but he kisses away the wonder on your face, working you up with teeth and tongue, until you’re frenzied with need. Your fingers clutch at his biceps, nails sinking in to tether him closer. 

His hands on your waist guide you down again. As his cockhead breaches your lips, you keen, head falling forward onto his shoulder. 

“Holy fuck,” you gasp. The stretch is delicious, cunt already throbbing around his thickness.  

Both of you freeze when you’re fully seated on him, no sounds in the room but the rhythmic cadence of your panting intertwining with his. 

“You know,” Hyunjin speaks through grit teeth, focused on the spot where your bodies join, “we could’ve been doing this a long, long time ago.”

You don’t know what to say to that. How long has he wanted this? You’re not sure the exact answer for yourself, except that it’s longer than you’d ever truly want to confess.

“Maybe - maybe if you weren’t such a - oh, oh, oh!” Your lame attempt at a retort is lost to the rapid snapping of Hyunjin’s hips when he starts to thrust up into you. There’s nothing you can do but bounce in his lap, clinging to his shoulders as he finally fucks you just as hard as he’d promised. “Hyunjin, please!” 

Hyunjin grunts, perspiration trickling down his forehead as he concentrates on giving you what you wanted. His jaw flexes, brows drawn together in a frown, and even with this fierce expression on his face, he’s so beautiful that you can’t help yourself, diving forward to kiss that gorgeous mouth of his like you’ve always imagined, as if you weren’t just kissing him a few minutes ago, but like it’s the first time, tracing his lips with yours, imprinting the feeling of them against your own to store away in your memory for later.

“Fuck, sweetheart.” His words are the oxygen you inhale, tongues pressed together like the pages of a book. “I think I prefer you this way. So needy for my cock.” He smirks. “Kinda want to keep you like this.” 

He digs his fingers into the plump roundness of your ass as he grinds into you, sliding you back and forth. Your hips undulate, rolling you down on his big cock, feeling every inch of him rubbing against your walls. 

“Hyu-hyu-hyun!” 

It’s impossible to get an entire word out, given the pace at which Hyunjin’s strokes are jostling you. Your staccato cries get louder when he switches it up, laying you on your back and shoving a pillow under your hips. His thighs smack into your ass with every plunge of his thick length, and again you can do nothing but try to breathe, drowning in euphoria as you are.

“Yeah, you’re best just like this. Stuffed full of cock, no room for thoughts. Or arguments.” 

“F-fuck!” You were trying to say ‘fuck off’ but Hyunjin chose that moment to thumb at your clit, giving the aching nub the friction it so badly needed. Your hips buck up, making Hyunjin groan.

“Just like that, so good for me.” 

You whine involuntarily at his praise, hips lifting again, trying to take him deeper. Every stroke of his cock lights you up, your body tingling from head to toe. The strong thrumming in your gut is going to overtake you soon and you’re finally going to get what you’ve been needing for weeks now. And it’s Hyunjin of all people who is going to give it to you. 

You’re pulled out of your reverie as Hyunjin suddenly pulls out, falling onto his side next to you. 

“What are y- oh!” You gasp as he turns you on your side, facing away from him. One hand lifts  your leg, sliding it back until your calf loops over his. Then he enters you again, and again, thrusting in deep, powerful movements. “Oh, fuck, goddamn.” 

“That’s right,” he growls, arm beneath you bending, hand coming to a rest around your throat. Not squeezing, but holding you in place, back pressed to his front. You’re both covered in sweat, bodies gliding over one another, making it hard for him to keep his pace. So his fingers spread on your chest, locking you in place, giving him leverage to pound into you. “Take it, sweetheart. Take what I give you like a good girl.” 

“Ahhh,” you moan, “don’t - don’t call me that.” 

“No? You don’t like being praised?” Hyunjin releases his hold on your thigh, running his others fingers around where his cock keeps sliding between your lips. “Your pussy tells me another story. You’re soaking my sheets.”

“Nah - ah - not that, ’s not that.” With this slightly slower rhythm, you’re able to speak, but full sentences still seem hard. “Like praise. Hate - hate good girl.” 

“Ohhh, I see.” Hyunjin laughs breathily. “I should’ve known. You’re too proud. Think it makes you look weak if I call you that? Hmm?” 

Even in your desperate state, you know he’s not far off from the truth. You don’t want him calling you that, because it feels like giving in to him. Letting him take control completely. Possessing you. His good girl. 

The real, honest to god truth is - you can’t let him call you that, because you do want it. And you hate how much you want it. 

So you deny it. Or at least, you try to. But all you can stutter is a weak “You’re s-such a d-dick,” as he continues snapping his hips into your ass, making your entire body jiggle in his strong grip. 

Hyunjin drops an open-mouthed kiss to your shoulder, wet and sloppy. You curl your fingers into his arm as you sense that you’re approaching the precipice of your orgasm. You can tell that it’s going to be an intense one, one of those climaxes that clears your mind of all thought and leaves you literally shaking in ecstasy. Just as he’d promised.

You do appreciate a man who follows through on his promises. 

Hyunjin must feel the way you’re starting to clench around him, groaning into your shoulder. “Ahh, I think this little cunt’s trying to tell me something again, sweetheart. You gonna come for me? Hmmm?” His fingers rub over your clit, the sudden touch making you jolt. “Come on, be a good girl and c-”

Twisting your head, you smash your nose into his cheek, clumsily seeking his mouth. Cutting him off with heated kisses, hoping he’ll interpret it as annoyance fueling your actions and not see it for what it truly is - untamed desire. 

A strangled cry passes from Hyunjin’s lips into yours, and with one more tweak to your clit, you come undone. Your body locks up, thighs going rigid, cunt clamping around his cock so fiercely that Hyunjin hisses loudly, forehead resting on the nape of your neck.

“Fuck, you’re so goddamn tight,” he whispers in your ear. Sweat drips from his skin onto yours. “You’re gonna make me come. Is that what you want?”

You can’t answer. You’re gone, completely gone, beyond words, capable of making only the most broken, pathetic sounds, wantonly mewling as slowly grinds into you, cock rubbing against your clenching walls. When your legs start to go slack, he resumes his thrusting, but at a languorous pace, and you’re not sure if he’s trying to go easy on you now that you’re approaching overstimulation, or if he’s trying to slow himself down.

“I think it is what you want. I think you want me to fill this little pussy up with my cum, don’t you? Hmm?” His nose prods at your cheek. “A sweet creampie for my good girl?”

The whine that you let you out is pitifully loud. White hot shame spikes through you, but only for a second, the emotion quickly burnt away by your fervent need. 

“Come on, tell me. Tell me you want it.” 

“Ahhh!” You gasp as his cock sinks in deeper, hitting your g-spot. It’s almost too much, the delicious drag, and your fingers dig into his arm, nails sinking into his skin. “Fuck!”

“Tell me,” he says again, but this time there’s a plea laced into the command, a desperate edge in his tone that strikes a chord somewhere deep inside you, and suddenly you want to give him anything he needs. 

“Hyunjin, I want it, p-please!” 

Those are the magic words. Hyunjin groans, his hips falling out of their slow rhythm, jerking erratically as he does exactly what he said, shooting his load deep inside you, moaning your name the entire time. You grip the sheets so hard, you’re afraid you’ll tear them, shoving your hips back against his, riding out his climax with him. 

“Pussy’s sucking me dry, sweetheart. So greedy,” he pants, trailing kisses along your neck. “Think it wants more.” 

“Hyunjin!” You sob his name again, voice breaking. All it takes is his fingers pinching at your clit and you’re coming again, stomach twitching, breath leaving your body in one big rush. 

When your body stops trembling, Hyunjin finally slips out of you, his hand falling away from your cunt. He lets out a tired laugh.

“You can take your nails out of my arm. I’m not going anywhere.” 

“Oh.” Your neck burns a little in embarrassment. You hadn’t realized you were still holding on to him so tightly, unconsciously keeping him in place. Keeping him close to you. You relax your grip, and he slides his arms around you further, locking you into his embrace. 

It’s… nice, being in Hyunjin’s arms. Really nice. Lying there, in your messy, tired state, you feel rather content. 

But the longer you lie there, just breathing together, not speaking, your head starts to fill with thoughts again. Questions. The most pressing being, at what point is he going to kick you out? Because despite everything that just happened, he’s still Hyunjin, and you’re still you, and - 

“It’s already started.” Hyunjin hums, lightly shaking you. “I can hear you thinking again.” 

Your reflexes kick back in. “It’s just what I do. You should try it some time.” 

To your surprise, Hyunjin starts to laugh. You roll over, nose bumping his as you give him a curious look. 

“What?” 

“You really can’t help yourself, can you?” He brushes a finger over your cheek. “You’ve got a fighter’s instinct. It’s one of the things I admire about you. But maybe, just maybe, you don’t have to fight me all the time?” 

You stare at him as you try to make sense of the rather casual confession of admiration he just dropped. Nope. Can’t. Not right now.

“I…” You pause. “Sorry. It’s just a habit.” 

He smiles, something genuine that slowly shifts into his familiar smirk, and even as spent as you are, you feel a stirring inside you. “Guess we need to work on that.”

In the morning, you might regret what you say next. But the night’s not over yet. “Maybe you just didn’t fuck me stupid enough yet.” 

Hyunjin accepts your challenge with a kiss. 

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© 2024 by minisugakoobies. Crossposted to AO3. Please do not copy or repost. I do not allow translations of my works.

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[katsu28]

summer's golden haze - chapter three

pairing: lando norris x reader

summary: bar hopping, damsels in drunken distress, and a late night heart to heart. (5.1k)

warnings: swearing, alcohol, lando talks about the hungarian gp shitshow

a/n: yes this is me maybe slightly projecting my feelings about hungary onto my characters okay! they're my barbie dolls to play with i can do whatever i want 😌↕️ anyways hope u enjoy <3

previous chapter | masterlist

“Hello? Are you even listening?” 

You blink, bringing yourself back to reality and back to the current conversation. Your friends are looking back at you with matching concerned, albeit a little annoyed expressions. “What? Sorry, I was—I’m here, sorry. What’s going on?” 

Samira tuts, but not unkindly. They all know you’ve got a million things running in your mind at the moment. “I was saying our dinner reservations got canceled. Something about the kitchen having to close down for maintenance, I dunno. Anyways, it frees us up tonight and we’re trying to figure out what to do instead.” 

“Oh. We could stay in? Order some food, watch a movie?” 

“I know what we need,” Camille gasps suddenly, eyes lighting up like she’s just had a brilliant idea. “We’re going bar hopping tonight.” 

“Bar hopping? We haven’t done that since—” You pause, taking a moment to think. You haven’t been bar hopping since Samira got dumped by her girlfriend a few months back, the time before that when Maren finally cut ties with her situationship last year. The only time you all go bar hopping is after a breakup. They think what happened with Lando is the same as breaking up with a partner. “Guys, seriously, I’m fine. He was never even my boyfriend anyways!” 

“Say what you want, but you’ve been super out of it these past few days. You need to let loose, do something that makes you stop thinking of Lando and start thinking about yourself again.”  

You scowl, crossing your arms over your chest. “I think about myself plenty.”

Camille rolls her eyes at you. “I mean not in that mopey, sad ‘I say everything is fine even though it’s not’ way. There’s more fish in the sea than Lando. Find one, or don’t, it’s up to you. But you need to forget about him.” 

Your lips press into a thin line as you sink back into your seat.

You don’t want another fish in the sea. You want the weird little crab with the cute accent and the sparkly eyes, the one you’ve already let back into the water.

The one you can’t have. 

Things haven’t been too awkward with Lando yet, but they definitely aren’t the same. Two people who really like each other but have decided to remain friends doesn’t really scream smooth sailing from now on to you. The wound is still fresh, and there are hints of it as you spend more time with the guys. 

Immediately filling the empty seat next to each other like it’s second nature but then having to awkwardly scoot away when your shoulders bump or your hands brush. Lingering glances across tables and rooms until one of you breaks and looks away first. Finding him first in a place full of other people and drifting towards him, only to come to your senses and switch up directions at the last moment. 

You wish you could say forgetting Lando would be easy. It really isn’t—not when your friend groups have basically melded into one big one, and everyone gets along so well. It would’ve been easier if you’d gone your separate ways, but you don’t think your heart would’ve liked that very much. Not that it enjoys skipping a beat every time you catch Lando’s eyes on you a little too long either. 

You wrinkle your nose, brows following. “I’m sad and mopey?” 

“A little bit.” 

“Okay, fine. Fine, let’s go bar hopping,” You concede, letting your shoulders drop. 

If you’re going to get over him, you might as well start right now. 

That’s how you end up in bar number one of the night, four tequila shots on the bar table in front of you. You eye the unassuming little glass warily, even as each of your friends snatch one up eagerly. 

Samira, as if sensing your hesitation, nudges yours toward you. “It’s one shot, babe. It won’t kill you.” 

“I know that,” You insist, throwing your shoulders back. “I just…need a second.” 

“Take all the time you need. We’re going all night.” 

Tonight isn’t about your feelings for Lando. Tonight is about you moving on, moving past what could’ve been with him and looking forward to what might come next. With or without him. 

You hold up your shot towards them, grinning big. “Here’s to moving forward, and making memories that’ll last a lifetime!” 

Clinking your glass against all of theirs, you throw back the clear liquid as smoothly as you can, only wincing a little bit at the burn of it going down your throat. It isn’t your usual drink of choice, but change has to start somewhere, right? 

-------

As far as bars go, this one isn’t the worst one you’ve been to tonight, but the fun has started to wear off for you. You’d stopped drinking around bar number two, the buzz of your much tamer drink choices after those first few shots starting to die down bit by bit. On the other hand, your friends are still going full steam ahead. You’ve honestly lost track of how many drinks they’ve had at the bars you’ve hit tonight, but they’re holding on pretty well. 

“Fuck boys!” Samira exclaims, slamming another shot glass down onto the table with gusto. Maren and Camille agree wholeheartedly with identical slurred ‘yeah, fuck ‘em!’s that make you chuckle into your glass of water. 

You know they’re just trying to make you feel better about your decision, and in a way, it helps. You’d finally been able to talk about what went down that afternoon without feeling an indescribable rush of guilt, and although they were disappointed at first, it became less when you’d told them why. They’re your best friends, and they know you better than anyone, so they know for a fact Lando’s lifestyle was not the one for you. 

Tonight was supposed to be all about forgetting your feelings, but as the night went on longer and your inhibitions became lower, you still couldn’t help but think about Lando. That mental box you’d put him has burst wide open already. 

You’re a little embarrassed to admit it, but you’d done a little research on him after getting home, which turned into a deep dive of his career, his life, anything that piqued your interest in him. You were curious to know what a guy like him saw in someone like you. 

It felt a little weird to see him outside the Lando you’ve gotten to know him as, because he seemed…different. He’s still the same sweet guy you know, but on video he’s a more tame version of himself. 

Carefully chosen words and shy smiles, he wears his confidence like a suit of armor on camera, to protect himself against the world. Here, he’s all bursting grins and loud belly laughs, unfiltered and so, so happy. He seems so normal, it’s hard to remember that he’s not just your everyday guy. Lando is one of the best and well known racing drivers in the whole world.

Making sure to separate the two is important if you want to stay firm in your decision. 

Somehow it hits nearly four in the morning, and it’s about high time you make the executive decision to call it quits and go home. The only problem is, you’re the only semi-sober one out of the four of you. You have the car, but you don’t trust yourself to drive in this state. None of your friends are in any shape to be of any help either, not when Maren is nearly passed out on the tabletop, and Camille and Samira drunkenly swaying with each other right next to you. 

You don’t really trust any rideshares at this time of night in an unfamiliar place, and even then, there’s no way you can get them all home by yourself. There’s only one other thing you can think of, one other person you can call to help you out. The one person you were hoping to not have to call. 

The moment your finger hits Lando’s number, you have half a mind to hang up. You’re about to, but then the line connects. 

“Yeah, what?” Lando’s voice is gravelly, thick with sleep. A little grumpy. Of course he’s grumpy, it’s nearing three in the morning and he was probably asleep. You feel bad that you've woken him up, but you couldn't think of anything else. 

“Lando? I’m so sorry to be calling you this late, I just didn’t know what else to do.”

Immediately, he sounds more alert when your name leaves his lips. “Is everything alright? What’s up?” 

You gnaw on your lip in contemplation until he says your name again, gentler this time. “We’re at a bar in town and the girls are really drunk and we need to get home, but I had a few drinks too so I didn't think I should drive. And I tried to call an Uber but at this time of night I don’t—” 

“Hey, no, it’s okay. I can come pick you up.” He interrupts your rambling and you're grateful for it, because the more you talk the more you think this was a bad idea. You’re asking him for too much, you're stretching the limits of an already awkward friendship too far, you're— “Just tell me where you are, I’ll be there as soon as I can.” 

“Really?” 

“Of course. Drop me your location and stay there.” You can hear rustling on his end of the line, pounding on a door, someone’s groggy voice saying something you can’t make out. Then Lando’s voice fills your ear again, soft yet firm. “Hang tight, ‘kay? Be there soon.” 

“Thank you so much,” You breath, truly grateful. He hangs up, and you can finally let out a breath of relief. Lando is coming. You won’t be stranded here. 

Lando jumps out of the car as soon as it pulls to a stop in front. He’s got on some nondescript jumper with the hood pulled up over his head and a random pair of joggers, and he definitely doesn’t look like he’d just been roused from his sleep. In fact, seeing him all disheveled with worry like this is kind of doing it for you. 

You’re in the middle of apologizing again when Lando crashes into you, arms wrapping around you tighter than you’re expecting, nearly squeezing the breath out of you. You meet Max’s eyes over his shoulder, who you’d just realized was also here, and he doesn’t look surprised at all. He looks rather smug, actually. 

“Are you okay?” Lando holds you at arms length, worried eyes scanning you for anything out of place, any injury. Other than your pride, you remain unharmed. Though that pesky fluttery feeling in your stomach is back again, as is the warmth in your chest, and it isn’t from the alcohol. 

His hood has fallen off from the force of his hug to reveal the tornado of curls on his head, flat on one side from his pillow most likely, as are the lines on his face from what was probably a good night’s sleep. Until you called, that is. 

You blink at him, caught off guard by the amount of care he still seems to have for you. It feels like an impossible feat to tear your gaze away from his. “Yes? I mean, yeah, I’m fine. You—wow, you got here fast.” 

“I thought maybe something—nevermind.” He cranes his neck around you to glance at your half asleep friends on the bench. “Are…they okay?” 

“Yeah, they’re fine. Tequila, y’know?” You shrug. 

Max lets out a snort of laughter from where he’s wandered over to check on them, waving a hand in front of Samira’s face. She swats at him halfheartedly, mumbling a sleepy, “Fuck off, Fewtrell.” 

“Sorry to wake you too, Max.” 

“Oh no, you didn’t wake me. He did.” He juts his chin over at Lando, who still has a hand around your elbow. You can’t help but let your eyes drop down to it, and Lando does too, inhaling sharply before letting go. Still, the warmth from his grip lingers. “And not very nicely might I add.” 

“I had to get you up quick!”

“You nearly took my head off with a pillow, you dickhead!” 

“Oh, I’m sorry, did you want a kiss on the forehead?” Lando snorts. 

“Not from you!” 

“Come off it already, won’t you?” Lando turns his attention back to you instead, rolling his eyes playfully when he finds you stifling a giggle behind your palm. “You said you had your car?” 

“Um, yeah, it’s around the corner. We can just leave it here, I’ll circle back and pick it up in the morning.” 

Lando clicks his tongue, shaking his head. “It’ll probably be stripped for parts by tomorrow. How bout we split up? Two and two?” 

“Well, we all know who you want,” Max says knowingly. It makes your cheeks flame hot and Lando’s flush pink, but Max doesn’t waver in his shit eating grin. For some reason, you find his candid bluntness refreshing, even if it is poking fun at what’s going on (or not going on) between Lando and yourself. “You guys take Maren in your car, I’ll take these two and meet you at your house.” 

Max manages to coax Camille and Samira to their feet with little trouble, and before you know it they’re off, leaving you alone with Lando and a very sleepy Maren. He rocks back on his heels, biting the inside of his cheek awkwardly, like he’s not sure what to do. 

“Should we—” 

“I think—” Lando bites back a laugh, gesturing for you to speak first. 

“We should probably get going.” 

“Right. Let’s get her in the car then, yeah?” 

You couldn’t be less well versed in cars if you tried, but even you know the one Lando came to your rescue in is expensive. You’re almost too reluctant to even sit in it. But then Lando’s hand touches softly against the small of your back as he pulls open the door without hesitation, and you have no choice but to help Maren in. 

Not like you had much of a choice anyways, what with him being the knight in shining armor to your damsel in distress call. 

“Did you have fun? Before having to play mum to the girls, I mean.” Lando asks a little while later, not taking his eyes off the road. 

You blow out a deep breath, sinking back into the plush leather of the passenger seat. The soft smoothness is heaven on your skin. “Kinda. The first few drinks, at least. Felt a little out of place, honestly.” 

“What, you didn't charm some guy the same way you charmed me?” Silence fills the car like cement as soon as the words leave his mouth. A pang of something sharp shoots through you, something akin to hurt that flashes through your chest but is gone a second later. 

No, you shouldn’t feel hurt. You’re the one who hurt him. Even though he’s told you over and over that it’s okay, it’s fine, he understands your decision, Lando has every right to express his true feelings, no matter how it makes you feel. 

“Sorry, that was—that came out wrong. I just meant—” 

“I know what you meant,” You say quietly. He wants to know if you met someone else, and the answer is no. No, you didn't meet another guy, because all you could think about was him. But you’re just friends. You’d made certain of it. So why did you feel like you’d done something wrong? “I didn’t meet anyone else.” 

“Oh. Cool.” 

“Is it?” 

A muscle in his jaw clenches as he swallows thickly, nodding. “Yeah. I mean, if that’s what you want. What you’re looking for.” 

“I don’t think I’m looking for anything right now,” Your voice is soft, nearly a whisper. 

I’m not looking for something that isn’t you, you could add. You don’t. It wouldn’t do anything other than hurt him, and yourself, even more. 

The rest of the ride home is basically silent, and Max is waiting on the sofa with the other two when you finally get there, entertaining a story that Camille is telling not unlike one would with a child, uh huh-ing and wow, that’s so cool-ing until he realizes you’re finally here. 

You take over from then, thank him profusely yet again when he says he’s going to head home, before corralling all three girls into the bathroom like a zookeeper with their animals. 

One by one, you help each of your friends through an abridged version of their night routines until they’re all ready for bed, and then you tuck them into the same bed as best you can. You’ve relegated yourself to the floor with a littering of pillows for the night. It’ll be easier to get to them if they need anything during the night if you’re all in the same room. 

You’re surprised to see Lando in the doorway once you’ve gotten them all settled in for the night. You thought he'd left with Max, but apparently not.  

He glances up as he hears you approach, frowning. “You’re gonna sleep on the floor?” 

You shrug. “Yeah, it’s fine. I can keep an eye on them that way. You can, erm, you can go home now. Go back to sleep.” 

“No offense, but I’m pretty sure they’ll sleep through the night. Plus, you must be knackered too. You should get some rest, yeah?” You want to say no, but your body’s response betrays you in that moment, because you yawn big, and it makes him chuckle. “Come on. Sleep in your own bed. I’ll watch over them.” 

“No way.” You shake your head insistently, despite the enticing offer. “You’ve already done more than enough, Lando, I can’t ask you to stay up all night. I’ve got them covered.” 

“You shouldn’t either.” He shoots back, chin tilting up in challenge. You match him as best you can with your eyes growing heavier and heavier by the moment, and eventually, he backs down, hands up in mock surrender. “How ‘bout we take shifts? The living room’s right across the hall, if we camp out there and anyone makes a racket, whoever’s up will be able to hear them.” 

You twist your lips to the side in thought. “Deal. I call first watch though.” 

“I can live with that. Why don’t you go freshen up, or something?” 

“Is that your way of telling me I stink?” 

Lando’s eyes glint with mirth, teasing smile curling his lips. “Maybe.” 

“Well, maybe you don’t smell too good either!” That’s a total lie. He actually smells really nice, a mixture of remnants of his heady cologne from the day and something fresher, a little citrusy. His soap, maybe? 

A hot shower certainly does wonders to sober you up the rest of the way, and as you’re toweling your hair dry enough to where it won’t be dripping water down your shirt, you take a good look at yourself in the fogged up mirror. 

This is fine. You can spend a night alone with Lando without feeling anything towards him. You can do this. You’ve done harder things than this. 

Lando’s frowning at something on his phone when you make your way back into the living room, scowling like whatever’s on the screen has personally wronged him. It isn’t the first time you've noticed his demeanor turn sour like this, and your concern is piqued each time. 

You clear your throat as if to announce your presence, offering him a small smile when his head whips up. “Hi. Is everything okay?” 

“Yeah. Yeah, everything’s fine. It’s just work.” He tosses his phone on the coffee table, dragging a hand forward through his curls, mussing up the front before raking them back. It doesn’t seem to do anything but make them messier, but you suspect it’s more of a nervous habit than anything.

He smiles back at you as you sit a respectable distance away from him on the sofa, though even that looks entirely forced. Something is wrong, and it’s eating away at him. 

“Look, I know things aren't how they used to be with us, but I hope you know I’m still here for you. You can always talk to me if you need to.” 

Lando gnaws on his bottom lip, head tilting from side to side like he's unsure. “Really? You’d do that for me?” 

“Friends are there for each other.” 

He blows out a deep sigh, sinking back against the pillows like a deflated balloon. “Yeah? You’re sure?” 

“I’m a good listener, remember?” You nudge his knee with yours gently. “Whenever you’re ready, I’m all ears.” 

He isn’t ready right away. For a little while, you sit in silence. You get the feeling Lando doesn’t have much experience with letting people in very easily, but it's okay. You’ll sit here as long as he needs to get his thoughts together. 

Finally he speaks, but even then, his tone holds hesitance. 

“I feel like everything is going to shit. The car is great this season, it’s better than it's ever been before, so that’s not the problem. It’s me, I’m the problem, I keep fucking everything up," He sighs, shoulders slumping. "And my team work so hard for me to be able to perform and deliver and I feel like I’m just letting everyone down, y’know? They deserve someone who can give them better than the shit stuff I’ve been putting out these past few races.” 

Lando as a person is impossibly hard on himself, you’ve come to learn—always thinks he could’ve done better, even if what he’s already done is enough. The same is true when it comes to his job. 

You’d know—you checked. In your uninformed opinion, the results he’s been achieving in the races are great. To be finishing high in the top five out of twenty of the best drivers in the world in almost every single race recently, it’s enough to make anyone proud.

But when you think about it from a competition perspective, a cutthroat drive with everything you’ve got, put everything on the line perspective, you get a sense of why he’s beating himself up. 

To know he can win and still fall short, race after race…god, you can’t even imagine how he must be feeling. 

You might be clueless still, but at the very basis of it all, you understand. Lando has worked so hard for so many years, put in blood, sweat, and tears, and he feels like he’s not living up to expectations. 

You know what it’s like to have such high expectations placed on your shoulders and nearly be crushed by the weight of everyone counting on you. Surely not on a scale as large as his, but you understand the struggle. 

Then he goes into the race in Hungary a few weeks back, and you can tell there’s some lingering hurt in him about what happened. 

“It’s like they were guilt tripping me or something. Telling me I’ll need the team in the championship fight, that I should do the right thing and give up my position. Call me crazy, but that just didn’t sit right with me at all. They want me to be a team player and that’s fine, I’m happy to, but I dunno…” Lando trails off, nose wrinkling like the words leave a bitter taste in his mouth.

You notice him picking at the skin below his nail and move without thinking, closing the distance between the two of you and redirecting his fiddling fingers by linking them with your own. 

It gets him to stop picking, but it also makes him stop talking. Whatever words are about to come out of his mouth die into a drawn out exhale, eyes drawn to your joined hands like a magnet. 

“Yeah? Keep going, I’m still listening,” You urge gently, nodding. Lando blinks at you, as if he’s lost his train of thought. “Hungary? The team?”

“Uh…yeah. Right. I was—I guess I just didn’t think they’d pull all that crap over the radio. Like, everyone could hear what they were saying—other teams, the commentators. It was on live broadcast too!” His fingers tighten around yours ever so slightly, dark brows knit with frustration. 

Even though you know close to nothing about the sport, what his team pulled seems like a dick move. You understand wanting to put their drivers in the best position possible, but airing things out on a radio where everyone can hear it feels wrong to you. Then again, you have no idea what goes on within a team at this type of performance level. 

“It’s like, they knew I’d do what they wanted me to do and I did, but for a moment, I almost didn’t. I almost went against team orders, and that’s…” He laughs humorlessly, shaking his head. “You don’t do that. You can’t. You listen to what your team says and you do it, and that’s the end. My boss has been calling every now and then, trying to get me to talk and shit, and I just don’t really wanna talk about work right now. I don’t even wanna think about it.” 

“Oh, Lando…” You sigh. Your thumb rubs circles over the prominent ridges of his knuckles, hoping it brings him some sort of comfort.

“I know I probably sound like such a brat right now, but I’ve given everything I have to McLaren and it still doesn't feel like enough. They want more, and right now…I’m not sure how much more I’ve got in me.” 

“Can I be completely and totally honest with you right now?” 

“Yeah, please.” 

You hesitate, taking a beat to reply. You don’t want him to take your response the wrong way. “I’m not gonna sit and pretend like I have any clue what it’s like to be in your situation, because I don’t. But I do think you’re being too hard on yourself. Yeah, sometimes you might not get the results you’d hoped for, but you’re doing the best you can, and that’s all you need to be doing.” 

Lando doesn’t need your advice, and you’re in no place to be giving any in the first place. He just needs someone in his corner, someone who cares about him to tell him that it’s okay to not be perfect. You want to be that person, even though you’re both still trying to settle into this new dynamic with each other. 

Thankfully, your words seem to soak in, easing the tension in his shoulders just a little bit. “Thank you. I think I really needed that.” 

“Glad I could help,” You say warmly, squeezing his hand. 

“Y’know, I just realized that I’ve never said any of that out loud to anyone.”

“Do you feel better?” 

Lando chuckles, and somehow, he even seems better. Like whatever was weighing him down was gone. “Yeah, I do. I feel…lighter, actually? Is that weird?” 

“Not at all. That’s what letting things out will do for you.”

“Maybe. But maybe it’s more than that, maybe it’s…you.” 

Your breath hitches in your chest. “Me?”

“You make me feel like I can be myself around you. Like, the real me, not the me the rest of the world knows me as. I feel genuinely happy around you, and I—I can’t just sit here and ignore it any longer. I still really like you. And I know what you said about us, and I know why, but I can’t help the way I feel around you. The way I feel about you.” 

“Lando, I—” 

“I swear I’m not trying to change your mind or make you feel guilty, or anything like that! I just had to say it before it made me explode,” He adds, exhaling shakily. “In the spirit of letting things out.” 

You’d be lying to yourself if you said you hadn’t been starting to question whether or not you’d made the right choice by deciding to walk away from Lando, because the more you get to know him, the more it chips away at your resolve. He’s kind and sweet and funny, and he gets you like nobody else has before. It’s been hell these past few days, tiptoeing around each other when all you want to do is kiss him senseless.

Right now, you want to kiss him senseless. He’s right here in front of you, holding your hand, looking at you with those stupid sparkly eyes. You want to say it’s the leftover alcohol buzzing in your veins making you feel this way, but that would be a lie too. 

Fuck it. 

You cross the already dwindling space between the two of you, sliding a hand around the back of his neck, and kissing him softly. Lando freezes for a split second, but before you know it, he’s kissing you back, guiding you closer until you’re nearly on his lap. His hands roam your back, curling into the material of your shirt, thumbing under it just a tiny bit to stroke at the warm skin there. 

It isn’t at all like the first time you kissed. He lets you set the tone, following your slow lead without question. 

You’re not sure how long you keep at it—lazy, gentle kisses punctuated with hushed giggles and tiny satisfied noises from the both of you.

Lando takes a pause every so often, pulling back just enough to look at you, take in the sight of you breathless from his doing, and every time, his mouth curls into a squinty, close mouthed smile. You can only bear the fondness in his expression for a few seconds before growing too aware of the way he looks at you and kissing him again. 

Your brain doesn’t want to stop, but apparently your body decides you’ve had enough action for a day, because at some point you feel your eyes start to droop, chin following.

As if sensing your exhaustion, Lando pulls away, chest rising and falling heavily. He’s breathless, lips kiss-swollen as they curve into a soft smile. “We should stop. You need to get some sleep.” 

“No! We should talk about this. Us.” 

“I agree, but I don’t think you’re really in the right headspace to do it right now.”

“I’m fine! I’m okay, I swear.” 

“You just nearly fell asleep whilst we were making out.”

“For a second!” You whine, letting your head thunk against his chest. A chuckle vibrates through him. “Don’t laugh at me, I’m tired.” 

“Then go to sleep. We’ll talk about it in the morning,” He insists, lips pressed to the crown of your head. You sigh through your nose. You’d argue a little more, but Lando is right again. All you want to do is go to sleep. “I’m not going anywhere, alright? I’ll be here when you wake up, we can figure it out then.” 

“Promise?” 

“I promise.”

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[endless-ineffabilities]

too soon to tell you I love you!

Ewan Mitchell x f!reader

a/n: another random Ewan oneshot, as a result of @seamaiden indulging my delusions 💛

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It's not often that you bump into one of your favourite actors at the pub... or he bumps into you.

It is just another night out on the town, and your mates managed to convince you to have a couple of drinks out in Covent Garden.

There's a really good pub you haven't been to apparently, but you know your friends, and they would think a pub is stellar as long as there is free-flowing alcohol inside.

It's a pub, you typed in the group chat, what could be so special about it? I kinda want to stay in tonight.

It will be special cos we'll be in it, one of them replied.

And that was the end of it. No room for negotiation when a night out is involved, but you adore your close-knit band of rascals, so you're hardly fazed.

The three of you are snug in a booth, the first round of drinks already imbibed and wreaking havok in your livers.

"Another round, guys, c'mon," Paul says, slamming his hands down on the wooden table, ever the charming instigator.

"You want another, you be the one to fetch it," Gracie smirked, wagging a finger at him.

"But I got this one! Lay off me, mate. It's someone else's turn now, that's how the system is, let's be civil about this—"

"Oh my god," you cut him off with a teasing laugh, "you really will say anything to get out of getting another round, won't you?" You share a conspiratorial wink with Gracie.

Paul gapes like a blubbering fish. "Hey! But I got the first round—"

"Alright, alright, drama queen," you stand from your seat, patting his shoulder in a mock comforting manner, "I'll cover this round."

"Huzzah! I love you!"

You roll your eyes fondly. "Oh, get a grip. I'll be right back."

It's a Friday night, so traversing the cramped confines of the pub feels like walking into a battefield. You have to shimmy past patrons filing in and out, those standing around tables like flocks of flamingo instead of sitting as they should, lads too focused on the match on the telly to notice when you first mutter excuse me, pardon me.

Then someone, much to your increased annoyance, bumps right into you from behind. You're thrown off kilter when you feel an elbow shoved in between your shoulder blades, making you step on your own damn foot.

You turn sharply. "Hey, watch it—"

"I'm so sorry! Are you alright?"

"I... I..."

"Are you okay?" he asks. His sharp, angular face and intense, piercing gaze make him instantly recognizable. He has that quietly powerful presence, standing a bit taller than you expected, with striking cheekbones and the slightest smirk playing at his lips, framed by the littlest bit of dirty blonde scruff.

"Here, come on." He gently tugs at your arm, his other hand occupied with a full pint. You let him pull you away from the warm, inebriated bodies and into a more secluded corner to the side of the main bar. "Much better, eh? Sorry, I didn't think you could hear me back there. Pub's proper packed tonight, innit? But... yeah, I'm sorry for bumping into you like that."

"It's... not a problem."

"Really?"

You nod, forcing a smile, your throat so constricted you can barely form a coherent sentence.

"Well... I, uh... how about I make it up to you anyway, huh? I could get you a drink? And your mates too if they're around?"

"Yeah, they're..." You raise a hand and wave at your table, but they're already keenly watching you, intrigued looks on their faces. You'll never hear the end of this later. Or ever.

"Is that them?" He waves politely, smiling in amusement. He knows that they recognise him, and how could he not, when they're practically gaping in his direction.

And finally— "Oh, uhm, I'm... Ewan, by the way." You shake his extended hand, introducing yourself in turn.

"Nice to meet you," you croak, "and... uhhh... I actually—"

There's a spark in his eye, and either it's the ambient lighting or his cheeks turn flushed. "Do you watch the show?"

"Yes. I'm a huge fan of yours..." you exhale in relief, a weight off your shoulders as if some secret is finally revealed, but then you hear your words again. "...and the show! I mean, I love the show—"

"Thank you," he grins, saving you from blabbering on too much. He leans forward and nudges your upper arm in a friendly gesture. "Thank you so much, really. I'm glad to hear it."

"So can I ask what's it like to film—"

"You here with just mates or a boyf—"

"Oh, you go ahead," you quickly say, but he blurts out, "Sorry, what did you say?" at the same time. Again.

Just two cluckering hens unable to speak to each other.

Feeling your composure returning, you hold a finger up, telling him to listen for a moment. He laughs softly at your faux stern expression, and the sound is so warm and genuine that your attempted seriousness melts away instantly. You could so get used to that.

"I just wanted to ask, and I hope you don't mind, what is it like to film the show? To be Aemond?"

"Oh, it's an absolute dream," he starts, turning his gaze away for a brief moment as one does when they're tapping into a memory. His blue eyes are cast in another direction, and you're grateful for the momentary reprieve. You catch yourself letting out a shaky breath, no longer arrested by those magnetic orbs of his. But only a few seconds pass before you already miss gazing into them.

You get a hold of your thoughts, and tune in to his words as he continues, "Aemond has become very dear to me... Well, he's definitely a part of me now! And the cast is just the best group of people to work with and I couldn't be more grateful so... Who's your, uhh, favourite character then?"

"Well," you shrug, "you could say he's standing right in front of me!"

"Oh really? And why Aemond?" He places his pint down on the bar and takes a step closer, leaning against the varnished mahogany ever so casually. You have half a mind to chug his pint in order to deal with the intensity of simply being this close to him.

What can you say? Because he's the most beautiful boy you've ever seen? Because he's your tortured little war criminal who is precious and can do no wrong? Because you want to be his ladywife and consumm...

You decide none of those are usable.

So you jump into a brief explanation of how Aemond is a compelling character, a mix of ambition and vulnerability, constantly at odds with others and even himself.

All the while, Ewan stares at you intently. All the while, you pray that your heart won't stop.

When you finish, the smile that is already present on his lips stretches even wider. "You're not just saying that because I'm here, are you? Like, you wouldn't say Criston is your favourite if it were Fabien you bumped into tonight?"

You give a sardonic nod, a slight smirk playing at your lips. "Sure, Ewan. I can easily reuse everything I've said and apply it to Criston Cole. Is Fabien with you? Maybe he can bump into me, and we can start the whole thing all over again."

"No way," he says smoothly, "you're mine."

Your prayers didn't work. Your heart stopped.

He clears his throat, ears reddening. "I mean, you're on team Aemond, come on now. You must prefer him over Cole."

"Well, I do."

"So there, you are mine," he cheekily repeats. Shy then brazen. Embarrassed then flirty.

Just who is this man? You've seen dozens of interviews, heard many a tale of fan encounters, but with every passing second, you feel as if you're discovering someone new altogether.

And it's the type of exciting that stirs you at your core.

"Sorry, am I keeping you from company? I don't want to monopolise— "

He hurriedly shuts that down. "No, no, it's okay. I'm just here with my brother and..." A group of lads erupts in cheers at a goal. "...girlfriend."

"Oh," you mumble. Your heart did start working again, only to clench uncomfortably in your chest. "Well, you should get back to your girlfriend. It was really nice to meet—"

"Wait, hold on," he pleads, reaching for your hand to stop you from turning away, "Not my girlfriend. My brother's. I'm kind of third wheeling them actually. But he's only in London until tomorrow so he wanted to meet me anyway."

"Oh. Okay—"

"I don't... I don't have a girlfriend."

"Uhm, okay," you offer a small smile, unable to deny that his statement gave you some ease.

For no particular reason.

It dawns on you that his larger, rougher hand is still caging yours. When you finally lift your eyes to meet his, a gentle smile plays at his lips, his gaze unwavering.

He leans in, his voice dropping to a low, intimate tone meant only for you. "Listen, could I—"

Something flutters in your peripheral vision, distracting you, albeit you thought it impossible to have your attention diverted if you would ever meet Ewan.

But it was. You turn to see Paul waving an arm frantically at you, likely having waited far too long for his precious pint. Gracie, bless her, tries to get him to simmer down, reaching across the table to slap his arm. Her hand comes into contact with his skin, resulting in a smack loud enough to reach you across the pub.

"Ow!" Paul yelps.

"Leave her alone, mate!" Gracie snaps.

You can't help but laugh at their antics. When you turn to Ewan again, you lose track of what you were going to say, as he's watching you with an unexpected softness, his bottom lip caught between his teeth.

"So..."

"Hmm?" How Aemond of him.

"I think I should do my duty and fetch those guys a round," you sigh, jutting a thumb at your table.

"Oh, I'll get it," he quickly offers. "Don't worry about it, darling."

"Are you sure? I really can—"

"Wait here," he murmurs, his voice so close to your ear that a shiver ripples through you, goosebumps prickling along your skin in response.

You watch as he effortlessly navigates the line, his steady confidence drawing your attention as he orders three pints when it's his turn. You can't help but wonder how no one else has recognized him yet. Luck must be on his side, the footy match on the screens rendering everyone oblivious to the presence of a celebrity in their midst.

Their loss, your gain.

The aforementioned celebrity gestures to you with a tilt of his head, and you weave through the crowd idling by the bar to reach him.

"Here, hold this for me, darling," he says, handing you his own half-empty pint. He balances a full tray with both hands, heading to your table, where Paul has most likely turned into a dry husk.

"Thank you for buying a round!" Gracie exclaims, bouncing slightly in her seat. "You are Ewan from House of the Dragon, right?"

Ewan smiles, shirking slightly under the attention. "Yeah, and hey, I'm just doing my part," he replies with a friendly shrug.

As they gush about House of the Dragon, you try your hardest to disappear into your chair, feeling your cheeks heat. Paul, however—of course—has other plans.

"So, Ewan, you have to know that my friend here—" He gestures dramatically toward you. "—has the biggest crush on Aemond. I'm talking full-on obsession, really.”

"Oh my god, Paul!" you groan, burying your face in your hands, mortified. "Why would you say that?"

Ewan chuckles, and you peer at him to find him leaning back, a smug yet handsome look on his face. "An obsession, you say?" he teases, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief.

You shake your head, laughing despite your embarrassment. "Okay, okay, that's a severe exaggeration."

Ewan says with a grin, looking between you and your friends. "I'll have to be on my best behavior, then, won’t I?"

"Oh, absolutely," Gracie replies. "If you mess this up, you'll ruin Aemond for her forever!"

Ewan raises his hands in mock surrender, laughing. "No pressure, then! But, I hope you don't mind if I steal her away for a while," he says, turning his gaze back to you, his tone softening. "I'd really like to sit and talk to her more."

Alys Rivers has got nothing on you.

"What about your brother?" you ask.

"Oh, I see him all the time," he says, all nonchalant, standing from the booth and offering his hand for you to take.

"Are you sure? I don't—"

"Oh my god, just go with him, mate! You know you want to," Paul groans loudly, then he throws Ewan a wink, adding, "You two would look so cute together, you know?"

You're about to chastise him for yet another pert remark, when Ewan replies, "Oh, yeah, I know."

As the night wears on, he recounts behind-the-scenes stories from filming, your shared laughter echoing in the back area of the pub. You lean in, captivated by the way he animatedly gestures, and by the absurd fact that you're casually talking to Ewan Mitchell.

Your Tumblr moots are going to have an absolute field day with this if they found out.

"You wouldn’t believe how many takes it took me to get that scene right with Vhagar," he says, shaking his head.

You can't help but laugh, picturing the scene. He watches you with a look that sends your poor heart fluttering.

The pub has just announced last call when he places his hand atop yours on the table. "Listen, darling... can I ask for your number? I would really love to see you again sometime."

Does he even have to ask?

"Uh, yeah, of course!" When you hand him his phone back, his fingers brush against yours, purposefully lingering for a moment longer than necessary.

"Brilliant," he says, glancing up at you with that charming smile. "I'll text you right now so you know it's really me."

True to his word, it doesn't take long before your phone buzzes in your pocket. You're met with a notification that an unknown number sent you a message—

Hey, beautiful. How about you let me take you out on a proper date tomorrow night? – your obsession, apparently

Your head shoots up, and you lock eyes with Ewan, who is already laughing to himself.

"Ewan! Are you kidding me?" you exclaim, but surrendering to the humour of the whole thing, laughing with him.

"Please say yes, darling?" he tilts his head, pouting adorably, drawing nearer to you.

Yes. Of course. Most certainly.

"Well... since I'm obsessed with you, I guess you already know my answer."

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

Star gazing with Eddie and venom, it be like a cute date that was totally venom idea but won't admit it and reader enjoying her time with them

.⋆｡Stars and Us｡⋆.

Eddie Brock x plus size reader

With no other options left, Eddie is forced to listen to his parasitic friend who’s secretly a massive romantic.

Warnings: fluff, Venom doesn’t have feelings (it totally does), brief mentions of smut WC: 1k

6k Follower Bingo

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

Eddie wasn’t quite panicking, but he was close. He could at least convince himself that he had everything under control despite the end of the week looming ever closer. It was your three month anniversary. Three blissful months with the most incredible human he had ever met and even if you insisted that you didn’t need any big celebration, Eddie knew better. You deserved to be celebrated and worshiped, the only problem was, he had no fucking clue what he was doing.

The man was five articles deep on the best anniversary ideas but none of them would be perfect (or cheap enough). “Maybe she’d appreciate half a dozen orgasms and some shitty take out.” Eddie grunted as his forehead hit the desk, abandoning his quest with a whimper.

“That’s what you do every week.” Venom curled itself around Eddie’s broad shoulders, its white eyes skimming over the section on a Parisian getaway before looking down at its pouting host.

“It’s worked this far hasn’t it?”

“Pathetic.” Eddie’s head spun around so quickly his neck clicked. Venom sighed heavily and slunk back towards the kitchen. “You claim to love this human yet you do not put in any effort into seducing her. You just throw her around and expect her to enjoy it.” It plucked up a chocolate bar with a thin tendril, waving it in the air before it threw the sweet into its wide maw.

“Why are you suddenly an expert on dating? Last I checked, you barely even tolerated having her around if she wasn’t feeding you.” Venom scowled, releasing a soft growl as he licked his teeth clean. 

“You chose her as a mate, do not judge how I deal with it.” Eddie sighed and ran his fingers through his cropped hair. You would be home soon and he was running out of free time until it was your anniversary.

“Well, do you have any bright ideas on what I should do if you’re so smart.” Venom hummed, seeping back into Eddie just as your heels clicked up the hall.

“I may have an idea.”

——————

“I told you that we didn’t have to do anything today.” You giggled as Eddie helped you off his bike, his large hands deliberately lingering on your hips even after you found your footing. He just smirked and pressed a quick kiss to your full cheek as he reached behind you for the bag propped up behind your seat.

“And miss this chance to spoil you? Absolutely not.” You clung to his free arm, squeezing the hard muscle of his biceps as Eddie led you towards the empty field sprawled out in front of you. 

“You aren’t gonna kill me are you? Cause I didn’t tell my roommate where I was going tonight and I need someone to feed my fish for me.” Even though it was just shy of pitch black, you knew Eddie was rolling his eyes. His arm slipped from your hold for just a second and before you could reach around again for it, he grabbed your ass and gave it a generous squeeze.

Your surprised yelp carried across the field, as did Eddie’s accompanying laughter. “Hands off the goods, handsome.” You scolded but took his hand back in yours anyway, your fingers intertwining.

“Sorry princess.” Soon enough, you both slowed, coming to a patch where the grass wasn’t as long and the sound of crickets seemed to dull slightly. With another kiss to your cheek, Eddie pulled a blanket from his bag, laying it out perfectly with a flick of his wrists.

“Shit Brock, you practise that just for me?” 

“I was single for a long time, baby, these wrists have put in some real work.” You scrunched your nose and shoved him off you as Eddie went for another kiss.

“You’re disgusting.” But it came out as more of a giggle than anything else.

“And yet, you love the things these wrists can do.” He purred against your lips. 

Your arms wound around his neck, tugging him closer. “Oh you bet I do.” Just like always, you melted into his kiss, eagerly lapping up his affection as he held your waist to him. Just as his tongue brushed against your bottom lip, Eddie flinched and pulled away.

“Yeah, I hear you, there’s no need to threaten my liver.” 

“What’s Venom saying?” You asked with a voice full of fondness.

“Just reminding me why we brought you here in the first place.” He helped you down onto the blanket before joining you. Eddie guided your head to his chest as you wrapped yourself around him and finally looked up.

Millions of stars stretched across the night sky, each one shimmering brilliantly from their place in the universe. They clumped together like strokes of a paintbrush reaching all the way down to the horizon. “Wow.” You breathed. “I never knew you could see so many stars so close to the city. It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

Eddie’s fingers gently ran up and down your back as he hummed. “Yeah you are.” 

You tore your gaze away to look at your boyfriend, who was already looking at you. Heat crawled up your cheeks and you turned away. “Fucking sap.” You muttered as his chest rumbled with soft laughter.

He kissed the top of your head and finally joined you in watching the galaxy go by. 

“This is perfect Eds. Where did you come up with this?”

“Had some help from Venom. I was just gonna eat you out till you passed out.” You jammed your finger into his ribs just as Venom did the same thing from inside him. “Hey! I can’t have you both teaming up against me! I’m fragile.”

“Yeah right.” You said as Venom echoed the same sentiment, making Eddie smirk. “Will you thank it for me then, I don’t think I’ve ever had a man be this romantic for me before.”

Venom remained silent but Eddie could tell just how pleased it was. “I will. Happy 3 months princess.”

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[mikkomacko]

Him and I

Swiss Trip

Previous

Pairing: Nico Hischier x Reader, mob boss! Nico

Warnings: allusion to sex (no smut yet), language, a bit of fighting

A/n: sooo I have to make the Switzerland bit of this AU multiple parts because there’s a lot of drama and it really got away from me haha. Anyway, enjoy this cute piece of Nico and reader traveling to Switzerland!

~~~~

There’s not very many times you can say you’ve seen Nico nervous. He does immensely well under pressure, keeps a level head and a calm demeanor. He often even looks cocky, like he knows more than he lets on.

You love when he’s like that.

All glinting eyes and smirking, that lift in his chin and puff of his chest. He’s hot when he’s cocky.

But there’s something endearing about when he’s not. When his palm is sweating in yours and he keeps messing with his hair. Like he is now.

“Baby,” you giggle, reaching across the recently cleared dinner table for his hand. “You’re gonna give yourself bed head.”

Nico laces his fingers between yours, shaking his head before meeting your gaze.“I thought you liked my bed head?” The flicker of the candlelit table warms his already charming features, glows on his dimpled cheeks and dark eyes.

Squeezing his fingers, you nod. “I do, but you spent 20 minutes styling it before dinner.” His smile turns bashful and he shakes his head so his hair falls back into place.

“You gonna tell me why you’re so fidgety?” You question, tracing your thumb over his knuckles. Mischief twinkles in his eye, lips parting to speak far too quickly and you cut him off. “Don’t say you’re anxious to fuck me Hischier or you’ll get a cold shower tonight.”

Pouting, he slumps back into his seat. Gaze falling to the table in front of him, he scratches at a spot on the cloth with his free hand. You give him a moment, let him hide behind those thick eyelashes and loose pieces of hair in his face. After a beat he looks up at you.

“I want you to come to Switzerland with me,” he says, inhaling deeply to calm himself. “I want you to meet my family, to see my first home. And I know that’s a lot but I’ll take care of it all and I’ll take care of you-“

You reach for his other hand, interrupting him. “Of course I’ll go,” you agree, love swelling in your chest. “Why wouldn’t I? Switzerland Nico? I’ve never even left the coast!”

Your giddiness is palpable, already leaning forward in your seat like you’re about to crawl over the table to get closer to him. It makes him smile, that crooked adoring grin he gets when you’re happy.

“You really want to?” He questions shyly, releasing one of your hands to stand up and come around the two person table. You turn to face him, nodding eagerly as he kneels on the terrace in front of you.

Running your fingers through his hair, you scoff. “I’d love to Nico. I mean, Switzerland is what made you who you are. And I know you miss it, even if you won’t say it. “

You press a chaste kiss to his smiling lips. “I’d be honored to meet your family, as well.”

Shockingly, his smile flickers and he gets that deer-in-headlights look. Without saying a word, you raise an eyebrow and stare him down. It doesn’t take long for him to crack, not when it comes to you.

Guilty, he hunches forward and shrugs. “I- I still haven’t told my family about you, I mean my sister knows but…”

“Why?” You ask, a bite to your words. How could he not tell his family? He’s talked to you about them as if they know who you are. Years of a serious relationship that apparently haven’t been that serious if he couldn’t bother to tell those he loves.

Nico falters for a moment, gaze drifting around your face as he thinks and you’re about to stand up and walk away when he finally speaks.

“They’re mean,” he explains “not like treat you badly but they’ll-I wouldn’t have been able to protect you. If I so much had mentioned your name my father would have had a PI and an investigation on you within a day.

“And they come up with all these stories and reasons to not trust me or you, and they’d be wrong so I just kept you to myself.”

Nico has a terrible habit of speeding through his sentences when he’s scared or guilty. Luckily you’ve had a lot of time learning his quirks or that whole rant would’ve been lost on you.

And as much as it hurts you to know that you don’t have a place in his family’s lives, you understand why he did what he did.

“You could’ve told me,” you reply “instead of just letting me assume they knew of me every time you mentioned them.”

You think back to all the times he told a story of his siblings, how you laughed and always said you couldn’t wait to meet them. How he’d agree with that lovesick little smile on his face like they already loved you.

How misleading it all was.

“Nina knows,” he defends, “doesn’t that count for something? She’s my favorite anyway.”

Scoffing, you drop his hands and he scrambles up to his feet. “You said that about Luca two days ago Nico.” Pushing the chair back, you dodge him and stalk back towards the house.

His sneakers squeak as he chases after you. “Baby please,” he cries, grabbing at your hand but you just tug him along through the back door. “I just wanted to keep you happy and safe. That’s my job-“

Nico stumbles into your back when you abruptly stop in the hall, caught off guard by the sight in front of you. Beautiful sets of luggage are laid out in front of the staircase, slick and elegant. Jammed in the zipper of the duffle sits a little bright Swiss flag on a stick.

“Surprise?” Nico mumbles, hesitant and you tip toe closer to look at the gifts. Two luggage tags sit on top of the suitcase, shaped into matching baby blue Lego blocks. When you flip them over one is blank, but the other is filled in by the thin, slanted handwriting that belongs to Nico.

Y/n Y/l/n (Hischier)

If lost (suitcase or pretty girl) return to Nico Hischier

Under it all sits a little heart.

“I thought it was cute.” Nico says quietly, and you can feel him hovering close behind you. “I thought you could fill out mine.”

You hum, anger dissipating at the thoughtful gesture when you spot the passport holder sitting amongst the other things. Fingers the edges of it, you frown in confusion at how new and crisp the cover looks. Nico’s is beaten up which means this can’t be his.

Flicking it open, you’re met with your very own passport, the image matching the one on your drivers license. Spinning around, you hold it up to Nico.

“Did you get me a fake passport Hischier?”

Eyes wide, he shakes his head. “No, no, no!” He pushes closer to you, gently taking it from your hand and setting it back where it was. “I have connections, it’s real. I wanted to have everything done, that way we could just do the fun part of traveling.”

In the heat of your anger, of the thought that you weren’t important enough for his family, you completely overlooked Nico’s greatest quality. Everything he does is for others.

There’s not a selfish bone in his body. You’re not even sure he could be selfish if he tried. And while that doesn’t erase the fact that he omitted the truth from you, he did it with your feelings and happiness in mind.

“Nico,” you murmur, resolve melting. He takes that as his cue to reach out for you, taking ahold of your hips in those strong hands of his. “You make it impossible to be mad at you.”

A crooked smile sneaks up on his cheeks, puppy dog eyes still pouting at you but not as serious as they’d been before. “Don’t be mad at me,” he whispers, and you step between his feet. “Just love me.”

An amused grin takes over your lips and you wrap your arms around his neck, rising to your toes. “You know I do,” you reply, tilting your chin up as he leans in closer. Catching your lips in a kiss, you bury your fingers in his hair. Nico hums contently.

“You’ll still go?”

“Yeah but you gotta kiss me again first.”

~~~~

Nico checks his watch, counts the seconds hand as it slowly ticks around. He looks away, gazes out the window at the setting sun and frowns. Nothing entertaining out there. He kicks his foot up onto his knee, fiddles with the laces of his sneakers for a moment.

Dropping his foot back down, he looks over at Timo in his eye mask, snoring softly. His vision blurs with frustration and exhaustion, his bones feeling heavy in this stupid airplane seat.

“What’s wrong baby?” You interrupt, closing and setting your book on the table. Nico sighs, hunches forward and rests his head in his palms. A gentle hand finds his back, runs up and down his spine and shoulders.

Pathetically, Nico whines “I’m so tired.” Like an angry toddler he rubs at his eyes with his fists, sighs again before slumping back into his seat. You peel your hand out from behind him, pull the beanie off his head and start stroking through his hair.

“Scoot over,” you instruct, rising from your seat and he ignores your command in favor of just widening his legs for you. Not that you mind, sneaking over and settling into his lap.

He wraps you up in his arms, sighing contently as you hit the button to recline his seat. Nico’s been very vocal lately about his disdain for flying, whining to you every day about he can never sleep and the food is bad and the seats make his butt go numb, etc. It’s part of the reason why he invested in a private jet so long ago, not that it helps. He’s just grumpy in front of less people now.

But this is his first time flying with you and he never realized how much of impact you have in making him comfortable.

Curling into his side, you lay your head on his shoulder and he tucks his nose into your hair. You smell like his shampoo you’d borrowed in the shower this morning and laundry detergent.

Peering out the window at the darkening sky, Nico trails his fingertips in soothing circles on your hip. “Are you cold baby?” He asks when you shiver but you hum in disagreement.

“Did you pack warm enough clothes?”

He feels you giggle. “Yeah I did. And I can always steal from you.”

Nico smiles at that, feels his eyes getting heavy. He wants to sleep, knows he needs to before seeing his family again for the first time in years and this time with a surprise guest.

But he can’t quite get himself to succumb to that groggy feeling.

“Talk to me ‘bout something?” He mumbles and your hand slips under his sweater, seeking the warmth of his body. “Just for a few minutes?”

Humming in thought, you quietly begin to nitpick at him for god knows what. He manages to catch you whining about leaving Holtzy behind, a bit more ribbing about him keeping you a secret from his parents, but anything after that is lost on him. Because despite the complaining nature of your words, your tone is sweet and light.

It seeps into his chest, settles warmly in his heart and his head suddenly quiets enough for his eyes to slip shut, lulling him to sleep.

He wakes up a couple hours later to a dark jet, your warm nose plastered to his neck and a blanket draped over the two of you. Nico catches Timo’s eye across the aisle, his friend sending him a wink before going back to his movie.

Pulling the blanket further up your body, Nico closes his eyes again and just holds you.

~~~~

A large black SUV waits on the tarmac, an airline worker standing by the driver side door with a set of keys in hand. You smile politely at them, fighting off the grogginess as Nico guides you to the car.

A cold breeze bites at your face and neck, and you tighten the blanket wrapped around you. Timo greets the worker in Swiss German, the language still lost on you despite how hard you’ve tried to get Timo to teach you and hearing the words fall so fluently from him makes you pout.

Nico must see it on your face because he chuckles, kissing the top of your head. “You’ll get it on day my love,” he promises, pulling open the door. You hum in acknowledgment, letting him take the blanket from you so you can hop in and buckle up.

He waits for you to adjust everything and place your stuff by your feet before laying the blanket back over your lap. You laugh when he tucks it in under your thighs and around your back, nudging his nose into your smiling cheek.

“I’ll be right back,” he murmurs, smoothing your nap-mussed hair down. You nod and he shuts the door, immediately greeting the worker himself with a handshake and a nod. Timo has begun taking the luggage from the plane and loading it in the back, silently working as you watch your boyfriend through the tinted windows.

You can tell by how quickly he speaks that’s he’s using his native tongue, and it both annoys you and turns you on so you settle back into your seat, staring at the dark headrest of the seat in front of you.

The colors blur together, your brain falling into that sluggishness from sleeping on the flight, and you don’t even realize you’ve fallen asleep again until Nico is climbing into the backseat with you.

“Oh sorry,” he winces when your eyes shoot open but you shrug it off, curling into his body when he settles in the middle seat. His legs are too long to be sitting there so he sprawls out on your side of the car. “Go back to sleep baby, we don’t have to see anyone until the morning.”

You don’t need to be told twice, especially not when Timo puts the car in drive and pulls out of the tarmac. With the rumble of the vehicle, Nico’s body pressed close to yours, and the heat of the sweat warmer on your back, you’re out before either boy can say another word.

~~~~

When Nico said morning, he meant lunchtime. Not that you knew that until his naked body was disappearing into the bathroom and you finally dug your phone out from under the pillow.

It was a little past 12 and your heart jumped into your throat at the sight.

“Oh my god, Nico!” You shouted, sitting up and clutching the bed sheets to your chest because the room was so chilly.

Urgent, Nico sticks his head out of the bathroom. “What? What’s wrong?”

Scoffing, you throw your phone onto the mattress. “You let me sleep too late! It’s already noon!”

He huffs, shaking his head at you in disbelief and sauntering back into the room. Unashamedly, you watch him make his way to his suitcase and dig out a pair of boxers. You don’t meet his gaze until he’s slipped the clothes on and the beloved sight of his butt is gone.

Nico is smirking when he finally has your attention back on his face. You raise a challenging eyebrow, waiting for him to finally respond to your complaints.

Not that he does. Instead he crawls back up the mattress to you, nudging you back into the pillows until he’s caging you into the mattress. With that shit eating grin still on his lips, he leans in to kiss you.

Dodging him, you turn your head so his lips fall on your cheek. “You didn’t answer me.”

He snickers. “Didn’t know it was a question.”

“You haven’t brushed your teeth.”

His breath is warm on your skin, nose brushing your cheek. Thick fingers grip onto your chin and he turns your head to face him.

“Didn’t seem to bother you when I was fucking you five minutes ago.” He retorts, and you giggle at the reminder. Before you can answer he’s kissing you, all soft and lazy like he’s got honey on his tongue.

After a moment you pull away from him, pushing the strand of hair that tickled your forehead behind his ear. “Promise they won’t be mad that it’s so late?”

He frowns. “Who?”

“Your family,” you murmur, rolling your eyes and he pinches your jaw at the action. “Ow,” you whine, gripping his forearm and digging your nails into the skin.

A hiss leaves his lips, and he loosens his fingers enough for you to tug his hand away from you. “Stop,” he grumbles, “and no they don’t care.”

“Don’t tell me to stop,” you snip, lightly shoving at his chest “you stop.”

He sits up onto his knees, frowning down at you with those stupid dark eyes of his. “You’re mean when you travel,” he comments.

“No I’m mean when you hurt me.” You argue, glaring at him. He silent for a moment, watching you but you don’t concede. That mob boss power look doesn’t work on you.

He sighs, blinking slowly. “Sorry, shouldn’t have pinched you like that.”

Annoyance melting away, you give him sad eyes and pout. “I was just asking a question,” you mumble “I’m nervous.”

Everything about him softens; the tick of his jaw, the hard look in his eyes, the pull in his shoulders. “Why in the world are you nervous?” He murmurs, shaking his head like he can’t believe it. “You are my everything baby, and they’ll see that. They’ll see you, and there’s no need to be nervous about something that special.”

The tears that well up in your eyes are unstoppable, they sneak up and blur your vision to the point that you have to shut your eyes. But that just causes the tears to roll down your cheeks.

Embarrassed you try to curl into yourself. It’s impossible with Nico’s large body on yours, especially when he leans over and coos at you before wiping them away.

“Eeesh what’s happening? Why are you crying?”

You wipe at your own eyes, laughing at how flustered he sounds and shake your head. “I don’t know!”

Meeting his gaze, you blush at the bewildered yet adoring gleam in his eyes. “Let’s get some food in ya before you get hysterical,” he instructs, slipping off the bed and holding his hand out for you.

“Clothes first,” you reply, letting him pull you up. The floor is cold on your bare feet and you leap onto his sock covered ones without caring whether it hurts him or not.

Nico stumbles, takes ahold of your waist to keep you from falling. “The heater’s on you big baby,” he grumbles, swiftly tossing you back onto the bed.

“Stop throwing me around I’m naked!” You complain, kicking at the tangled duvet. He just snickers, walking over to your suitcase.

“Tell me what you want to wear.”

Right, it’s time to meet the parents.

Next

[getosfavoritewife]

The Sun Always Rises

✮⋆˙ General Jing Yuan has a way of bringing sunlight to you, regardless of how much you avoid the warm rays. (1.5k words)

✮⋆˙ A/N: first post!! jing yuan has such a lazy/cozy feel and I'm still trying to gauge his personality so sorry if it's a bit ooc!!

✮⋆˙ Warning(s)/Content: forgemaster!reader; implications of mental health concerns (nothing heavy); can be read as platonic or romantic; fluffy fluff, teasing

✮⋆˙ jing yuan x gn!reader

Hearing three knocks against your door on a sunny winter evening could only signify one thing.

Not even trying to conceal the lack of surprise on your face, you open the door for your expected visitor; as usual, Jing Yuan greets you with a pleasant smile, hands comfortably clasped behind his back as he strides in like he owns the place, opens the curtains, and makes himself at home.

“Arbiter General,” you murmur, almost as if scripted.

“Forgemaster,” he replies in turn with a twinkle in his eyes, also as expected.

You don’t ask if he wants tea, opting to pour two cups and place them on the table as you both sit down. Forgemaster Yingxing had always taught you to be polite to guests, but that was a very long time ago, and Jing Yuan wasn’t just any guest.

“There’s a festival in Aurum Alley this evening,” Jing Yuan muses as he eyes the tea with interest, picking the small cup up as he gives the hot liquid a gentle blow and careful sip.

You know where he’s going with this, so at this point, the best course of action is feigned indifference and avoidance. “And you came all the way over here to let me know? Especially during such a busy day at The Seat of Divine Foresight?”

You take a ginger sip of the tea, grimacing as it burns the tip of your tongue, before placing it back down on the table. Master Yingxing’s tea was far superior to yours anyway—if he could see the hot garbage you’d brewed, he would have scolded your skills all afternoon.

Jing Yuan’s voice brings you out of your thoughts. “Astute as always. You should get out of the house more.”

“I leave the house,” you try not to sound defensive, squinting at the man sitting across from you. “I go to the forge every day.”

“Other than there?”

“And… I went to the market last week,” you grumble, rooting around in your brain for excuses. Lamely, all you come up with is a throwaway line about being too busy that you know Jing Yuan won’t buy. Anyone else would accept the lies that rolled off your tongue like second nature, but not Jing Yuan. He knew you and your habits all too well.

He stands up, dusting his pants off with a lazy smile. “Wonderful, grab your coat.”

“No, Jing Yuan. No.” You respond too quickly, shooting up as you wrack your brain for an excuse.

The softness with which he calls your name is lost to the roaring silence of the room and you know what face he’s making without even looking.

That corner above the cupboard really needs dusting. Master Yingxing would sneeze because of the dust, and he’d blame allergy season. Maybe tonight—

“Only for a little while,” he coaxes, as he swipes a strand of hair from obscuring your eyes. Maybe that’s what makes you meet his eyes: golden and full of life as usual, albeit with his dark circles that seemed worse than before.

“I’ll think about it,” you sigh tiredly, reaching up to run your fingers under his eyes. “You should sleep more, Jing Yuan. You look tired.”

A laugh rumbles out of him at that as he closes his eyes and leans into your touch. You can’t help but let the corners of your mouth quirk up in response. “Don’t let the others at The Seat of Divine Foresight hear you say that.”

“If only you would stop sneaking away at the sight of paperwork, maybe they wouldn’t be so wary of your work ethic,” you scold halfheartedly.

Jing Yuan simply watches you, an adoring smile peeking out that makes you want to push him away from you, embarrassed. Instead, you card your fingers through his hair, murmuring how his ribbon is coming loose as you free it from his snowy locks.

He sighs, letting his eyes flutter shut as you tug through his fluffy hair, replicating his usual hairstyle with practiced ease. You let your thoughts wander to when you used to re-tie his hair every day after it came loose during sparring while Master Yingxing went to go meet with sword master Jingliu and the others.

“How’s Yanqing’s training coming along?” Breaking the delicate silence, your voice always sounds unfamiliar these days; the results of less use, you suppose.

A golden eye cracks open to peer at you, and Jing Yuan lets out another sigh, this time more rueful. “You know how he tends to be. It still surprises me the speed with which he is able to pick up on new techniques and skills, but that obsession with winning and losing…” Jing Yuan trails off. “It’s like I say, if you treat him as a child, he'll put on the airs of an adult. If you treat him as an adult, he'll show the temperament of a child.”

“It’s a difficult age. Remember how you used to be?”

You bite back a snicker at the mock-offended look Jing Yuan shoots you.

“I don’t quite remember it like that,” he says. “I believe I was a joy to be around at every age.”

“I’m sure you remember it like that.”

“How else could you remember it?”

You take a break from playing with his hair to flick him on the forehead, at which he lets out a soft hiss, rubbing the small red mark and catching your hand before you can give him another one. “So mean.”

With a scoff, you make no move to remove your hand from his grip, letting yourself relax in his grasp. “You were nothing short of a terror. Anytime I tried to hang out with you it was always ‘Let’s spar here!’ or ‘Extra training is basically hanging out!’. I got so sick of you that I told Master Yingxing to stop meeting Master Jingliu when I was around.”

“Was I… really like that?” You can’t help but laugh at Jing Yuan’s face, ignoring the smile creeping onto his face at the sight of your laughter.

“All I’m saying is that he’ll grow out of it, just like you did. Kids are desperate to prove themselves at that age. You ought to praise him a little more,” you advise him softly.

“I give praise where it is deserved,” Jing Yuan places your clasped hands on his chest with fake affrontedness, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he huffs in amusement.

“Yet I am expected to praise you even when you are undeserving?”

“I hadn’t realized there were times where I was ever undeserving of praise?” You can’t help to smack him with the hand that was resting on his chest as he pretends to ponder.

“Speaking of Yanqing though—” you start before Jing Yuan interrupts.

“I thought we were speaking about me?”

The roll of your eyes seemed to simply be an intrinsic reaction to Jing Yuan’s teases after all these years of dealing with his painfully fatherly sense of humor.

“General.”

The pleased smile on his face only curled higher. “I’m listening.”

“As I was saying, Yanqing’s birthday is approaching this month. Maybe it’s time he finally receives a sword from the Forgemaster on his birthday this year?”

“I can already imagine his tears of joy. He still asks when he can meet you sometimes. I admit I have yet to give him an answer in fear that he will spend every moment not used for training to instead bother you incessantly at your forge.”

“Like father, like son, I suppose. Send him around—it’s truly no bother. It would also help me figure out a suitable blade for him.”

You pretend to not see the way Jing Yuan’s brows knit together at your teasing jab.

“Come watch us train sometime soon. To help you gauge his fighting style, of course,” Jing Yuan remarks lightly.

“Of course,” you echo. Giving him a look before sighing, you grab your coat off the hook, opening the door for him as you slip it on. “Only for a little while at the festival, please. And no buying or winning me anything while we’re there.”

Jing Yuan doesn’t even try to hide the smile unfurling on his face and you know the next words that come out of his mouth are bound to be an easy lie. “Wouldn’t dream of anything else, Forgemaster.”

From spending every free minute together as kids to only seeing him when he came knocking on your door every single day. No matter what happened, the sun always rose the next day. And no matter what happened, your Jing Yuan was always there.

thanks for reading!! ✮⋆˙

[mingi-s-dimples]

Study buddy or... fuck buddy? - Yeosang

KINKTOBER DAY 8- REQ. BY anon

~"yeosang x reader; please add squirt and virgin reader?"

pairing: yeosang x fem!reader

genre: 18+, college au

summary: anatomy lessons weren't this.. practical in the past.

wc: 2.7k

warnings: college au, friends with benefits, protected sex (we cheered !), cumming, squirting, first time sex, yeosang is a lil gentle boi at first, gets a lil bit rougher throughout the moment, he's a damn tease, aftercare, unedited, completely consensual, making out, for sure forgot something.

Author's Note: Hm. I liked writing this one. Was a lil bit harder at first cause I didn't quite have ideas for the plot but.. the ironic situation was that I got this idea while actually studying anatomy... sigh, to be fucked senseless while in break from studying... slams desk. Anyways! My loves, hope you like it!! 🙂‍↕️💖

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and does not represent the reality of the member in any way.

The soft hum of fluorescent lights filled the classroom, the buzz faintly drowned by the chatter of students packing up their bags. Another long day of classes had come to an end, and the weight of exhaustion was heavy in the air. You let out a slow sigh, stretching your arms over your head as you leaned back in the chair. Mind buzzed with information from the anatomy lecture—complex structures, nerves, and muscles all swirling together in a chaotic mess.

Being a medical student was no joke. Between the countless hours of lectures, labs, and the never-ending stream of exams, it felt like there was hardly time to breathe, let alone focus on anything outside of school. Relationships? That was out of the question. Who had time for the emotional rollercoaster of commitment when you could barely keep up with the textbooks?

"Hey," came a familiar voice from beside you.

You turned your head to see Yeosang slipping into the seat next to you, his expression as calm and composed as ever. His light blonde hair fell just slightly into his eyes, and he pushed it back with an absent-minded flick of his hand. Even after hours of classes, he still looked effortlessly put together, which was more than you could say for yourself.

"You surviving?" he asked, his lips quirking into a small smile as he dropped his bag onto the floor.

"Barely," you chuckled, rubbing your temples. "Today was brutal."

Yeosang nodded in agreement, leaning back in his chair. "Tell me about it. Anatomy’s kicking my ass. I don’t know how you’re managing to keep up with all of this."

You shrugged, trying to play it off even though you knew the material was just as hard for you. "You just do what you can, I guess. It’s not like we have a choice. We’re all drowning in the same boat."

He smirked, his eyes drifting toward me. "Lucky I have you to help me stay afloat."

It was a lighthearted comment, but it carried the familiar tone of your casual dynamic. Yeosang and you had developed this strange, unspoken arrangement over the past few months. Friends with benefits, no strings attached, no drama. You both agreed early on that neither of you wanted anything serious. Medical school was already overwhelming; the idea of adding the complications of a relationship into the mix felt like an unnecessary distraction. And honestly, it worked. You kept things simple, fun—just two people who got along well, enjoyed each other's company, and let off steam when the stress of school became too much. You never had sex with him tho. With no one. You thought it would interfere with the feelings between two people, hence you and Yeosang only had make out sessions for now. And he was okay with it. Tho, it was about to tkae a 180 degree turn..

"Yeah, I guess you’re lucky," you teased, nudging him with your elbow.

His grin widened, and he gave you a playful nudge back. "Speaking of which, I was wondering if you were free tonight. You need help with some of this anatomy stuff. We’ve got that exam coming up, and I’m seriously struggling."

"Anatomy?" you raised an eyebrow. "That’s not exactly light studying."

"I know, I know," he sighed, running a hand through his hair. "But if I don’t get this stuff down, I’m screwed. You’re better at this than I am, and I could use the help."

You hesitated for a moment, considering your options. It had been a long day, and you were tempted to just go home and crash, but the thought of studying alone didn’t sound appealing either. Plus, you knew Yeosang needed the help. And, if you were being honest with yourself, you didn’t mind spending time with him—especially in a more relaxed setting.

"Fine," you finally agreed, gathering your things and standing up. "But you owe me coffee or something for this."

"Deal," he said, standing up as well, his smile genuine. "I’ll make sure to have some at my place. You’ll need it."

---

Yeosang’s apartment wasn’t far from campus, and the walk there was peaceful, the evening air cool and crisp as you made your way through the quiet streets. When you arrived, he unlocked the door and ushered you inside, the familiar scent of his place hitting you immediately. It was clean, minimalist, the kind of space that felt uncluttered and calm—perfect for someone like him, who always managed to maintain that same composed demeanor no matter how stressful school became.

"Make yourself at home," he said, tossing his bag onto the couch as he headed toward the kitchen. "I’ll grab us some coffee."

You dropped your things on the dining table, already pulling out the anatomy textbook and notes. It was a massive textbook, the kind that seemed to weigh as much as all your collective stress, but you flipped it open, scanning through the sections you knew you'd be covering.

Yeosang returned a few moments later, setting two mugs of coffee on the table before sliding into the seat besides you. He leaned back casually, watching as you flipped through the pages, his eyes following the movement of your hands.

"So, where do we start?" he asked.

You took a sip of the coffee, the warmth of it soothing after a long day. "Let’s go over the musculoskeletal system first. I know that’s usually where people get tripped up."

For the next hour or so, you worked through the material, explaining the finer points while Yeosang asked questions here and there. Despite the subject matter being dense, the atmosphere between you was relaxed, easy. It was always like this with Yeosang—no pressure, no tension. Just a comfortable rhythm.

But as you moved through the material, you couldn’t help but notice the way his gaze lingered on you a little longer than usual, the way his hand would brush against yours when he reached for his pen or the way his knee pressed lightly against yours beneath the table. It was subtle, but it was there. Familiar.

Eventually, you leaned back, stretching your arms above your head and letting out a long sigh. "Okay, I think we’ve covered enough for now. You should be good for the exam."

Yeosang didn’t respond right away. Instead, he shifted in his seat, his eyes watching you with that same quiet intensity you'd seen before—when the interactions had veered into something less academic, something more physical.

"You’re a lifesaver," he finally said, his voice lower, softer than before. He leaned in just a little, his arm brushing against yours as his eyes locked onto you. "I really don’t know how I’d get through this without you."

There it was—that shift, that unspoken tension that had always existed between the two of you, just beneath the surface. You felt it too, the pull between, the way your casual arrangement had always felt so effortless, so natural. No strings, no complications. Just the two of you, in moments like this, where the lines blurred between study partners and something more.

You met his gaze, heart rate picking up slightly as you saw the way his expression had changed. His hand, warm and sure, moved to rest on your thigh, fingers gently tracing small, lazy circles there. It wasn’t aggressive, just a quiet, deliberate touch that sent a shiver through your body.

"Yeosang," you began, voice trailing off as his hand moved a little higher, his touch firm but not demanding.

"We’ve been studying for a while," he murmured, his voice low and smooth as his thumb grazed the inside of your thigh. "Maybe we should take a break."

"I-" you stuttered, not knowing what to do. You wanted to.. have sex with him, that's for sure. He was a good guy, whom could be even better in bed, you thought. But was it ethical? to fuck your.. best friend? Without being in a serious relationship? Well, in reality, friends with benefits is known for exactly that thing but at first you omitted that detail.. You loved how good you get along with him, all the intimate moments you had, without the proper sexual part. You were a virgin after all..

and you always thought that you'd never fuck him. But was it the same today...?

You never told him this, yes.. You remembered. You never told him you never had sex, either. The reason you were still "friends with benefits" if you could even call making out that, was that he was damn patient with you. You loved that about him.

"W-what do you wanna do?" you asked, seemingly confused but you knew where this was going.

"I mean.. just the usual, if you don't want something more" he said.

There it was. His patience running thin but never actually doing something about it. He was patient. Now, it was up to you. He was contently looking into your eyes, waiting for any sign from you.

Your hand went for his biceps, looking in his eyes. Then, he slowly went in for a kiss, not wanting to startle you. The kiss was needy, lustful, like it has always been. Tongues interlocking and touching, his hands were all over you.

He'd always get turned on from kissing and touching you. It was partly sexual, after all. And he always also got slightly hard, but he'd take care of it by himself later that day. It was.. sketchy, how patient he was. Seconds later you acted on instinct and impulse, but where did the action come from? Your right hand went from his biceps to his thigh, dangerously close to his crotch.

Yeosang stopped for a moment and looked at you, surprised. "Hm? Tell me sweetie, what do you wanna do?" he said, cupping your face. "Tell me" he murmured in a soft tone.

"I-uh" you stuttered.

"Hm?"

You didn't continue your words but you still answered his question. Your hand rode up his thigh, even closer to his crotch. Then, almost acting on instinct, your hand unbuckled his pants. He smirked at your action and leaned in for a slower, sloppier kiss. He smiled against your lips, sending shivers down your spine. He took you in his embrace and placed you in his lap, still kissing you. His hands went traveling, slowly making their way up to your breasts, to which you flinched for a short second.

He stopped.

"Hey, we don't have to do this if you don't feel comfortable with it. We can do the usual" he said in a reassuring tone.

"N-no" you said. "I wanna do this."

"Then.. may I?" he asked.

"Yes " you firmly said, kinda excited for what was gonna happen next.

You went in for a kiss again, your hands carresing his back softly. As you embraced him you started taking off his shirt, his muscles leaving you speechless. He saw your expression and giggled, finding you cute. He also took off your shirt, then he nodded, asking you if he can also take your bra off. You nodded affirmative and he left your chest bare in front of him.

Yeosang embraced you and put you on the desk, pushing away all the anatomy books you were supposed to have started studying by now. He took off your scrubs slowly. Yes, you had a practical that day and you were too damn lazy to go home and change yoursekf befoee going over at Yeosang and you also went right after classes. On the other note, he was wearing jeans cause he had only anatomy classes today. As soon as he took care of your clothes he also took care of his, both of you being left in only your underwear. His cock was already straining against the briefs, where your eyes spent a little too much time to stare at. He didn't say anything, even tho he probably saw you.

He took of your panties and threw them on the floor and looked contently at you. His rifht hand rode up your thigh and went for your folds, being really patient wirh you. He was looking you in your eyes to see any discomfort or sometning. But as soon as he saw that you were okay with it, he used two of his fingers to thrust them in. You moaned softly at the sensation, arching your back in response.

After he prepped you for a couple of minutes, basically already making your legs slightly tremble, he took you in his embrace and took you to his room where he put you on the bed. He softly pushed you back as he kneeled halfway on the edge of the bed. He took his briefs off and his cock sprung out, leaving you agape. He climbed on tbe bed right between you, feeling his length right against your folds.

"WAIT, wait." you suddenly shouted.

"Hm? what happened?" he said confused.

"I have to tell you something-"

What? Tell me" he sounded a bit worried avout what you'd say.

"It's just that, uh- Ah fuck it. I haven't had sex... never." you finally told him. "So please.. be gentle with me...?" you whispered.

Yeosang giggled. "Seriously? This is what you've been stressed about? Don't worry, I'll take good care of you, silly." he giggled and continued.. "May I? I want to make sure you're comfortable and all.." he whispered.

"Y-yes." you shyly said.

He looked at you and observed your expression. He knew you were turned the fuck on. Your folds literally dripping on the mattress, legs slightly shaking from only his fingers and eyes wide to see what he eas about to do.

"You don't know just how much I've wated this... but I care too damn much about you to have pushed the note or make you do something. Thanks.. for trusting me" he smiled against your thigh.

Yeosang stroked his length for a couple of times, then opened the drawer besides the bed. He took a condom out and put it on, making you feel even safer with him. He looked you in the eyes and nodded, to which you nodded back and he slowly pushed himself in. Your back slightly arched under his action, eyes teary and your hands holding onto his hands. He started slowly thrusting, watching you contently.

"Does it feel good to you?" he asked, hands holding your waist thightly.

"Y-yes!" you soflty shouted.

"Then.. mind if I go a little.. rough?" he bottomed down. "You gotta get a taste of how you'll be fucked in the future, sweetie"

You smiled. The little.. joke? you thought of it as a joke, yes, made you smile. He took that as a yes and as soon as he started thrusting a little bit faster, your chest rose up, soft muffled moans could be heard. You started to feel your core getting thighter and thigtber, you kinda new what that feeling was. To be true to yourself.. you haven't had sex with anyone but.. you fingered yourself at least twice since the semester started.

"Yeosang I-" you stuttered.

"Hm?" he was out of it.

"I'm.. c-close" you finally said.

"Me too" and as soon as he finished his words he raised your back up and took you in his embrace. You were now on your fours, back arching against his chest with every thrust. Kisses started trailing along your spine and shoulders, sending shivers down your spine. Within a couple more thrusts you finished, clenching onto him harshly. Surprised, he stopped for a short moment then started fucking you again, even more forcefully. It hurt but oh god... you were right when you told yourself he might be goon in bed. All sort of thoughts were running through your head, your chest slowly falling on the mattress.

He lifted you up.

"I'm not done... yet" his thrusts became sloppier and heavier, panting softly in thr nape of your neck, leaving kisses all over. As soon as his hands found their way to your breasts and pinched your nipples, you moaned loudly and.... squirted all over the place. Yeosang found that damn hot and came as soon as your moan revebrated through his body. He softly fucked you through his high, then came to a stop.

He slowly put you down and pulled out, throwing the condom away. He covered you with the weighted blanket he'd always had in his bed and hugged you thightly.

"...hey. How was.... it?" he spoke first in a soft tone.

"..A-amazing" you said, head still dizzy. "Though.." you continued.

"Hm?"

"I didn't quite expect to.. you know. Squirt..?" you giggled. "You're really something, Yeosang"

A smile rose on his face, "and this is not even everything that I can do" he laughed, teasingly.

"I bet"

"Hah, come on now. Let's get you washed up." he lifted you up and carried you to the bathroom.

NETWORKS:

@blossomnet

@illusionnet

PERMANENT TAGLIST:

@mingleshine @musiclovingfairy @crazylittlebisexual @sanhwalvr @gong-fourz @arki-sha @artistic-rendition @hongjoongtime117 @cypher-03

[luveline]

Hey jade, I hope you had a good Christmas,

Love your writing so much it brings me so much serotonin 🤣🤣 I have a request for hotch if you’d be up to it, I just love this man’s patience and understanding and would love to see him interact with reader who struggles with sex? Or just sexual stuff in general, like maybe she feels really embarrassed about it and doesn’t know how to talk about it with him? Idk if this is something you’d be interested in just thought I’d throw it out there. Regardless, I can’t wait to see what you post next ♥️♥️♥️

hotch lends you some comfort when a certain topic flusters you, 1.1k

cw adult themes, mdni 

“It's almost cheaper to have kids.” 

You scoop your gaze from the deodorants. “What?” you ask, looking first to Hotch, and then to his eyeline. “Oh.” 

The grocery store boasts a few rows of contraceptives. Condoms, dental dams, and under that, lubes and stimulants in candy rainbow colours. Thirty one ninety nine for silicone-free, aloe vera flavoured lube. Twenty seven for o-gel. 

You avert your gaze without fact-checking him on the condoms, laughing awkwardly as your heart races. “Right.” 

“I'm kidding. Just feeding Jack is a surprising expense.” He says surprising like it's delightful. “Good thing we have cushy jobs.” 

Oh, he's feeling funny tonight. Your laugh is authentic as he takes your arm, the basket in his other clinking as he starts forward again. You finish your quick stock up and Hotch pays for your things despite your protests, packing you and the bags into his ‘cushy’ car. 

You're a little embarrassed in the passenger seat. Your relationship with Hotch is complicated in that while you're in the official early days, you pined for a long time. You're undoubtedly in love with him, and though he's your boss and your senior, he seems to have taken a similar liking to you, hence another chilled out date night upon his invitation. And you've you've messed around like teenagers with kisses too hot and hands wandering, but you haven't fucked, and it's a problem, because your usual awkwardness around the subject grows bigger the longer you wait. 

Hotch can wait forever if he wants, you're not trying to rush him. If he wanted to fuck you tonight you'd probably be too nervous anyhow. 

You can't talk about condoms. How are you going to cope when you have to use one? 

Your stomach churns the longer you think about it. Hotch doesn't react at first, but you know he's figured you out when he covers your hand atop your knee and gives it a squeeze. You okay?

“Can we turn on the radio?” you ask. 

His hand lifts away slowly. He turns on the radio, and you think, oh, he's mad. No, not mad. Irritated, maybe, or confused. That's not fair to him. You think it anyway, sick to your stomach as he parks in the parking garage under his building and you make your way up. 

He doesn't pull any punches —as soon as you're inside with your shoes off and the door locked, he puts the groceries on the counter and looks at you until you meet his eyes. 

“I'm sorry,” he says. 

“What for?” you ask, startled. 

“I made you uncomfortable. I didn't mean to imply anything before you're ready.” He's handsome like this, earnest, his eyebrows raised and an inviting palm held open on the counter beside him. “It was a poorly judged joke.” 

“No, no, I,” —you bring a hand to your mouth, cover it, uncover it— “don't mind if you want to joke about it. It would be weird to care, right?” 

He hears an insecurity in your tone you don't mean to reveal, and he pieces it together swiftly. Understanding lines his eyes. “I don't think so,” he murmurs. 

You're embarrassed beyond words, but he is your boyfriend. He asked with a little expensive bracelet and your favourite baked treat from the bakery near work. You'd only ever mentioned it once, but he remembered. He knows you well, and he's never given you reason to be afraid of his reactions. 

“It's just so embarrassing,” you mumble, staring down at your socks. 

“What is?” he asks, crossing the kitchen to take your hands. “You don't have to be embarrassed about anything, you're perfect.” 

Your breath catches, your neck cracking uncomfortably as you look up. “I– I don't know how to talk about it. I know it's childish.” 

“No, it's not. It's a big thing, and it comes naturally to some people, but not everyone.” His brow furrows a little, the warm depth of his voice working to unspool the tight panic you'd been clinging to, “I'd never push you to do something you're not ready for.” 

“I know that. It's not you. And I don't know if I'm ready or not, it's just–” Your face is hot enough to boil rain. You shake your head. It's too difficult to explain. 

Hotch ushers you into his solid chest. “It's okay,” he says, patting your back gently. “Don't worry about it.” 

“I want us to be like everyone else,” you confess. 

“We are. You're not the first woman to get nervous about the idea of intimacy, sweetheart, I promise. And I'm not the first man to make a bad joke about contraceptives.” He laughs as you laugh, two huffing chuckles as he presses his lips to the top of your head. “You can take as much time as you need to get used to the idea, and if it's still weird when you're ready, does it matter? We'll be weird about it together. Or we won't be. Okay?” 

“Yeah, okay… thank you, Aaron.” 

“I waited a long, long time for this,” he says, giving your back a pointed little squeeze. “And it's more than I ever thought I'd get. I'm not worried about the rest. I'm in no rush, and you shouldn't be either.” 

You hide your face in his chest for a while, somehow more embarrassed than when you'd started. He draws lines up and down your back with his palm patiently. “It's okay,” he says again, kissing the side of your face. After a moment, he encourages your head back with a hand on your cheek, checking your expression carefully before leaning in for a kiss. His hair tickles your forehead. 

To your relief, it doesn't make you nervous. He probably never could, not when he's touching you so softly. 

You're feeling a hundred times better when you pull away. A tad mortified still, but relieved to know your struggle with talking about it isn't a turn off. If he can stick with you through this bump in the road, you can try, at least, to overcome it. 

“Is lube really thirty two dollars?” you ask in a whisper. 

“I don't know. I've never needed it.” 

He spends the next ten minutes laughing and apologising sincerely as steam pours out of your ears. 

[ghcstao3]

Ghost knows that Soap flirts for his drinks. He knows that Soap isn’t above using his charm and good looks to get what he wants for free, and Ghost knows this well because he’s seen it many times, and almost just as often has reaped Soap’s rewards as well.

So why does this time have Ghost feeling like his chest is about to cave in?

He watches as Soap leans against the bar, batting his eyelashes and flashing a fierce smile at a stranger, worming his way into getting his free scotch. He dances teasing fingers over a shoulder, splays out his hand on a lower back, whispers something into an ear of the unsuspecting man Soap has chosen as his prey tonight.

An unsuspecting man with a broad frame. With muscled arms and dark tattoos and blond hair. A man with dark eyes peering up at Soap like he’s a prize to be won, like he thinks he’s in charge of their interaction.

Ghost wants to vomit. He wants to storm over there and claim Soap as his own. He wants Soap to flirt with him, genuinely, to not have it be some game like it is with other men and women. He wants to—

He wants. But he can’t. And that, Ghost realizes with a start, is exactly why he currently feels so miserable observing Soap’s routine.

And maybe the fact that the man Soap is currently flirting with shares far too much likeness to Ghost himself.

Eventually, though, Soap does return from his brief escapade—though only with a single glass in hand as a show of his victory. And, surprisingly, it’s Ghost who he sets it in front of.

“You look like you need it more than me.” Soap nudges the drink closer to Ghost as he sits, an almost shy smile toying on his lips. “He wasn’t that fun, anyway. Cheap, too. Sorry if the bourbon tastes like piss, at least more so than usual.”

Ghost rolls his eyes, but gratefully accepts the drink. The weight on his chest has lifted a little, but not fully, not yet. Ghost doesn’t know if it ever could, not while he can’t have Soap to call his own.

He takes a sip, trying to let his thoughts blend into the buzz of the bar’s patrons—but it’s difficult, when Soap’s eyes won’t leave Ghost’s face. Or, at least, what of it can be seen.

“Something the matter, Johnny?” Ghost hums.

Soap’s gaze is unwavering, and staring back sends a pleasant chill down Ghost’s spine.

“Not at all,” Soap murmurs, voice distant. “The opposite, really.”

Ghost cocks an eyebrow. He doesn’t break eye contact as he takes another sip of his bourbon.

Soap’s mouth opens then closes, repeats, then his lips pull into a thin line as he shakes his head. Soap shifts in his seat, eyes darting away from Ghost as if he’s snapped himself out of a daze. Ghost thinks, if he squints, he could make out the faintest blush dusting over Soap’s cheeks.

“Just enjoy your drink, LT,” Soap finally says. He flashes Ghost a smile, one much warmer and sincere than he had offered the stranger, then lets his attention wander away.

Ghost wishes he could understand. Wishes this was easier. Wishes there wouldn’t be any repercussions to kissing Soap right here, right now.

But for now, all he can do is oblige Soap’s gentle command.

He’s always been a weak man.

[imaginespazzi]

Golden Hour is so so good! I love the way you’re taking the story, I’m obsessed with the way they just need each other like you write it so perfectly. And honestly it’s how they seem in real life, just so entwined.

I don’t want to ask but if you have the time and it won’t delay golden hour updates... Can you write a chaotic family Drabble of the girls teasing Azzi and Paige for essentially soft launching the last few weeks. You just write them so perfectly! Hope you’re planning to be a writer one day!

Thank you lovie <3

Do I have time? In theory no but I found about 40 minutes to cook this up (this is my way of justifying the lack of editing) and it's probably more sappy than chaotic but I hope you enjoy it anyways my love. Let me know if it lived up to what you wanted :)

Paige lets out a soft sigh as she turns the ignition off, parking her car in the team apartments parking lot. It's almost one in the morning and the tired is practically vibrating from her body but she'd been determined to get them back to school tonight in time for classes tomorrow morning. She can't help the soft smile that flitters across her face as she looks over at the passenger seat. Azzi's head is leaned against the window, mouth slightly open as she hugs Paige's sweater closer to her body like a blanket. The younger girl had managed to keep her eyes awake for about an hour, tiredly responding to her girlfriend's chatter with one-word inputs until Paige had looked over after asking a question and found Azzi completely knockd out

She had heavily debated waking her up but ultimately decided against it, knowing that it was well past the shooting guard's bedtime and as cute as she found Azzi's cranky grumbling when she was woken up, she thinks the girl probably deserved her sleep after the weekend they'd had.

The weekend.

Truthfully Paige is a little sad for the weekend to come to an end. She's going to miss the privacy of their hotel suite and she's really going to miss seeing her girlfriend all dressed up every day (even if she's not going to miss the way other people had, had the audacity to ogle at what's hers). God it had been perfect; everything Paige had wanted to be. The experience itself had been wonderful but the best part of it was that she'd gotten to live it out with her girlfriend, her person, her Azzi. Whether it was sitting next to her at the fashion shows or sitting across from her at the Liberty game, they'd been together and that's all that had mattered.

Paige knows that there's people who will look at their weekend and still use the just friends moniker; knows that until she and Azzi publicly label themselves, there'll always be people who'll be willfully ignorant of what they are. But still, this weekend -this summer really- had felt different. And maybe it's because they're a little different now but something about it had felt cathartically freeing. It makes her hopeful for what's come in the future, when they can shed this barrier of being teammates and just be who they really are to each other. She can't wait.

"Baby," Paige whispers, slightly shaking Azzi, "we're here."

The other girl let's out a groan, slinking further into herself without opening her eyes, "shhh Paige, I'm tryna sleep."

Laughing to herself, Paige lets herself out of the car before walking around to open the door to the passenger side, leaning down towards Azzi, "c'mon big head, you gotta get up so we can go to bed."

"I'm already in bed," Azzi says petulantly, eyes still closed.

"Azzi..."

"Paige.'

The blonde lets out a fond sigh, "you leave me no other choice Fudd."

"Wha-" Azzi squeals when Paige lifts her out of the car, using her waist to push the door in behind them, "oh my god Paige let me down. You're gonna drop me."

Adjusting the weight in her arms slightly, Paige smirks as she starts walking towards the apartment door, "I am way too strong to drop you."

"Oh my god the edits have gone to you head," Azzi groans dramatically, tightening her arms around the blonde's neck, "you're going to drop me and I'm going to die. I'm too young to die Paige."

"You have no faith in me," Paige guffaws, even if she's slightly struggling to get up the three steps that lead up to the door.

"Paige let me down," Azzi whines again.

"You sure about that princess?" Paige asks, a slightly devious plan forming in her mind as she finally makes into the soft fluffy mat right outside the door.

"Yes."

"Okay," Paige says with a shrug as she lets Azzi go, the younger girl falling on the rug with a slight thud.

"OW WHAT THE FUCK?"

"You asked me to let you go."

"Not like that," Azzi growls, rubbing her hips slightly as she gets up and shoves at Paige, "enjoy sleeping by yourself."

Paige's eyes widen as she watches Azzi open the apartment door and saunter towards the elevator.

"Oh hey wait, wait, wait, I'm sorry," Paige has to run to catch up to the younger girl, engulfing her from behind as she presses slobbery open mouthed kisses over every inch of her that she can touch, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Please don't make me sleep alone."

"Ew stop," Azzi crinkles her nose, half-heartedly pushing Paige away.

"I'm sorry. Pleeeeeease," Paige begs as the two of them wait for the elevator, "besides I'm sure you can't fall asleep without me either."

"Oh you're sure are you?" Azzi teases, yawning slightly as the doors ding and open and the two of them step inside.

"I know you can't," Paige grins, nuzzling her face in the younger girl's neck as she presses the button for Paige's floor, making no attempt to press the one for hers as well, "see?"

"Shut up," Azzi blushes slightly, "it's only because I don't wanna deal with Ice in the morning."

"Sure it is," Paige sing-songs before her face morphs into something more serious and she presses her forehead against her girlfriends, "I had a really good time this weekend."

Azzi's eyes soften, "it was pretty great huh?"

"The greatest," Paige confirms, brushing their lips together, "I love you."

"I love you too."

***

Much to Azzi's chagrin -and to Paige's slight amusement though she won't dare say it- she does have to deal with Ice the next morning. And worse than that, she has to deal with KK.

"GOOD MOOOOOORNING LOVEBIRDS," a loud voice echoes way to early in the morning.

Azzi cranks one eye open about cuss somebody out when KK jumps onto their bed, tiny body creating such an impact that it has both her and Paige practically jolting up.

"Morning sunshines," KK grins happily as Ice snickers from where she's leaning against the wall, "y'all done with your world tour?"

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Paige asks groggily.

"What's wrong with us? US?" KK's voice is as loud as always, "y'all abandon your kids-"

"Again," Azzi says exasperatedly, "y'all aren't actually our ki-"

"EXCUSE ME?" KK recoils before turning dramatically to Ice, "did you hear that Icey? She said we're not her kids."

"That's so mean of you Azzi," Ice pouts, "you practically abandons us for a decade-"

"It was one week-"

"A DECADE! And now-" Ice fake whimpers, "and now you're saying we're not even your kids? What kind of parents even are you?"

"The kind who aren't parents?" Paige says coyly only tfor KK to throw a pillow at her face, "seriously?"

"I cannot believe this," the Wisconsinite shakes her head, "first you abandon us," she glares at the two of them in a warning to not interrupt her, "and now, when we come in here to finally spend some time with y'all, do you welcome your children with open arms? OH NO. No you don't. Instead you make us feel like you don't even love us. Y'all are SICK."

"So SICK," Ice choruses and Azzi narrows her eyes at them.

"Y'all came in here to spend time us?" she asks slowly, "really?"

"Are you accusing us of having other intentions?"

"Well-"

"Oh my god," KK jumps of the bed, fixing them with an offended stare, "can't two children just want to see their parents?"

"Not when it's the two of you."

"I CANNOT BELIEVE-"

"KK," Jana's voice interrupts from outside the door, "is it time for us to come in yet?"

Paige looks between the door and KK and Ice's caught-out face as Azzi buries her head into her hands, "what are y'all up to?"

"Fucking El-Alfy ruining the plan," KK grumbles under her breath as she steps outside and the noise of bickering echoes through Paige's door.

"When we have actual children, we're never letting these idiots babysit," Azzi says softly as she leans her head back against Paige's shoulder.

Something beautiful blooms in Paige's chest as she kisses a smile into Azzi's shoulder. It's the way Azzi says it, the way she talks about them having their own children, like it's an inevitability, like forever means each other.

"Whatever you say baby," she whispers.

"Can you guys stop being gross for one second," Ice chides from the corner, "a whole fucking weekend together and still being this sappy has got to be a crime or something."

"A crime of passion," Paige says airily, relishing the way it elicits a giggle from Azzi.

"What the fuck?" there's a look of disgust on Ice's face as she studies the two of them, "that wasn't even that funny Azzi."

"I thought it was," Azzi shrugs, smiling as she turns her head to press her lips to Paige's cheek.

"Oh my god y'all get the fuck in here," Ice calls out, "they're being sickeningly cute in here again and I feel like I'm suffocating."

Unable to help their curiosity at what shenanigans their teammates come children are up to, Paige and Azzi can't help but look towards the door. Their mouths fall open as KK and Jana wheel in one of the whiteboards from the lobby, Sarah diligently following in from behind them. On the whiteboard is a series of cutout photos of the two of them taken from the weekend. A large hand-drawn paper sign hangs right above the photos: THE PAZZI SOFT LAUNCH tm.

"Ta-da," KK and Jana flail their hands as they present the board to the two gaping girls on the bed, bowing dramatically, "we made you guys this. Isn't it amazing?"

"It was my idea," Sarah juts out her chest proudly.

"It was not. I was the one who said wouldn't it be cool if we could show them how disgustingly stupid in love they looked all weekend," Jana glares at the freshman.

"Right but it was my idea to make the poster board," Sarah defends.

"Girl boo. I'm the one who came up with the title so it was really my idea," KK chirps in.

"All three of you needa take several steps back," Ice warns, "because who was the one who actually made this whole thing?"

"Me," all 6 of them turn to the doorway to see Caroline standing there with an exasperated look on her face, "I did all the cutting and glue-"

"You were in on this?" Azzi asks, "what happened to being the sensible one?"

"I am sensible," Caroline defends herself sheepishly, "but you know I love a good arts and crafts project and you didn't see them Az. They were failing miserably-"

"WE WERE NOT!"

"YOU WERE GLUING THE PICTURES UPSIDE DOWN-"

"ONLY SARAH WAS DOING THAT."

"DON'T THROW ME UNDER THE BUS LIKE THAT."

"ALL OF Y'ALL SHUT UP," Paige bellows and Azzi immediately flinches away from her.

"Ow Paige," she whines, rubbing deftly at her hear, "that hurt my ears."

"Sorry baby," Paige coos, pulling the younger girl back in to her arms and apologetically kissing her cheek as suddenly forgets why she'd needed to yell in the first place.

"SEE," Ice cuts, "this is why we needed to make the board. Y'all are so atrociously down bad and if we have to see how sickening it is, so do you."

"I think it's kinda sweet these dumbasses have finally figured it out," Caroline says with a smile.

"Nobody asked for your opinion-" KK grumbles as Paige sulks.

"We are not dumbasses," she says indignantly,unable to help herself from smiling when Azzi kisses the pout off of her face.

"Oh my god," Sarah gags as she looks at the rest of their teammates, "do they ever stop being disgusting?"

She's met with a chorus of "no"s from the rest of the girls in the room who've had to put up with Paige and Azzi for longer than she has.

"Y'all have a lot of nerve coming into our room and then calling us out for what we do in it," Azzi scolds.

"This is NOT your room," Jana corrects.

Paige glares at her as she tightens her grip around Azzi, "don't listen to them baby. My room is your room."

"Fucking hell. Y'all are hopeless," the Egyptian groans, "I give up. Congratulations on the soft launch or whatever. We're all very happy for you."

Azzi splutters, a series of indiscernible noises waterfalling from her lips, "we did NOT soft launch."

"Really?" Ice cocks her forehead, "so this," she gestures to the whiteboard filled with incriminating pictures, "this just looks like a completely normal best-friends kinda weekend to you?"

"Yes," Azzi replies stubbornly.

"Seriously?" Jana points to a series of pictures taken of the two of them practically pressed into each other at two of the fashions shows; there's a noticeable difference in how much space there is between them and the people on their other sides in comparison to the lack of air between the two of them, "y'all sit this close to all of y'alls friends like this?"

"Of course-"

"Hey," Paige wails, "who else do you sit that close to?"

"Not the time," Azzi hisses to her girlfriend, "I'm trying to prove something."

"Prove what? That y'all look at everybody like this?" KK smirks as she points to a set of images of them basically cheesing at each other like lovesick fools.

"That doesn't count as a soft launch-"

"Baby it does look a little bit like one-"

"Shut up Paige," Azzi scowls, digging her elbow into her girlfriend's stomach, "it doesn't count because it's not like we meant to do it-"

"So what you're saying is you accidentally soft launched then?" Sarah raises an eyebrow.

"That's not- I mean-" Azzi struggles to form a coherent sentences as Paige laughs into her shoulder, "your a freshman. Shouldn't you be nicer to your upperclassmen or something?"

"AHA!" KK cheers as she high-fives Sarah "deflecting because you can't deny it. Good job freshie!"

"I AM NOT-"

"Baby," Paige says softly, barely concealing her smile captures Azzi's chin between her fingers to turn her face towards her, "let it go. They're right."

"They're not-" Azzi huffs.

"Yes they are-"

"Well they don't need to know," Azzi says petulantly as she glowers at the other occupants of the room.

Jana regards her with an amused expression, "you know we can hear you right?"

Paige sighs, annoyed at having to look away from her girlfriend as she rounds on the rest of her teammates, "alright y'all made your point. Now will you get the fuck out?"

"That is no way to talk to you children," KK says as she crosses her arms across her chest.

"Ooooh," Sarah grins, "wait does this mean I'm one of your children too?"

"For the nth time-" Azzi begins but Paige covers her mouth with her hands, not wanting to start another bickering session that would inevitable prolong her not getting alone time in bed with her girlfriend.

"We'll think about it," she tells the freshman, a little touched when it seems to make Sarah gleam with happiness, "now please," she gestures to the door.

"Kicking us out so y'all can be all mush-gushy in peach eugh," Ice scrunches her face with disgust, "at least tell us y'all got us gifts or something."

"Even if we did you're definitely not getting them now," Azzi snarls at them.

"So what you're telling me is that there's definitely gifts," Jana says excitedly, "ugh I knew y'all would come through."

"Here," Paige points to both of their suitcases parked against the wall, "how about y'all take those and go to the living room and take whatever y'all want-"

"Wait no-"

"Will you be quiet for one second," Paige pinches Azzi's arms before smiling at the younger girls in the room, "all yours guys!"

KK narrows her eyes at the blonde, "this feels like a bribe-"

"Who cares Kamorea. She's giving us expensive free shit, don't argue," Jana chides as she starts to pull KK out of the room, Sarah following excitedly behind them.

"That's kinda low of you," Ice says with a disappointed look towards both of them, "but hey," she shrugs as she begins to follows the others, "if it belongs to my parents, technically it belongs to me."

"Well played Bueckers," Caroline, the last person remaining, smile as she moves to wheel the whiteboard out with her.

"WAIT," both Paige and Azzi yell in sync before shyly looking at each other.

"You can um-" Paige licks her lips, "you can leave that. It's kinda cute."

"I lied," Caroline shakes her head but does as she's told, "you guys aren't sweet because this," she points between the two of them and the whiteboard as she begins to move backwards, "this is just sickening behavior."

"Y'all are just jealous of our love," Paige calls out, ignoring the chorus of protests that she gets in return, happy to finally have the room back to just her and Azzi.

"So," the younger girl says carefully, as she turns herself around to straddle Paige's hips.

"So," Paige whispers back, hands resting on Azzi's waist as the other girl brushes a strand of blond hair out of her face.

"I think we might have accidentally soft-launched a little bit," Azzi says shyly, nibbling at her bottom lip.

"Accidentally," Paige grins as she nuzzles their noses together.

And as the sunlight peeks in through the window and the cacophony of their teammates excitedly unpacking their presents drifts in from the living room, Paige holds Azzi closer to her chest, and she lets herself think of what it'll be like when they hard launch. On purpose, this time.

[carmenberzattosgf]

ok but like. what do u think carm’s take on (consensual obvs) free use would be. just a little thought :O

( this is from March 28th I deeply apologize for the length of time this rotted)

Carmy would be SO hesitant to try it. Even with a safe word in place Carmy would be scared to hurt you. It would take ages of you and him talking about it for him to agree, but the circumstances have to be very specific.

As unhinged as this may sound, I see this playing out for the first at the restaurant. You have one job, and that is to sit in his office for whenever he wants to have you. You both sit down and plan it out the night before so you would be completely in the know about the situation.

He brings you with him to the Bear the next day. Carmy’s always the first one there, so there’s no chance of anyone seeing you walk in with him.

You’ve got everything you need in a backpack with you as Carmy walks you into the office. A water bottle, snacks, your laptop, and any other little things you might need. ( for horny purposes I’m imaging a small love seat of some kind nestled in the corner of the office.)

You sit down on the loveseat and pull out your computer; the show you want to binge is already pulled up and ready. Carmy on the other hand sits at his desk to check his emails, making sure everything looks in order for service tonight. The comfortable silence in the restaurant ends as you hear the back door open. Carmen hops up out of his chair and walks over to you, leaning down to kiss your head.

“Gotta get out there now, baby. No one will come in here; the staff’s not suppose to without asking me first. You sure you’re okay with this?”

“Mhm! I would just be sitting at home doing the same thing, anyways. This way, I can make myself useful for you.”

It’s not even half way though prep when Carmy walks back into the office. As soon as he closes the door and locks it, you quickly put your laptop down beside the love seat.

He’s mad about something. You can tell by the way his fists are clenched at his sides. He makes his way to stand in front of where you sit. All you do is look up at him expectantly, not daring to say the first word.

“What are you waiting for? Go ahead.” He mutters, gesturing to his waistband. You make quick work of his pants. Carmy doesn’t bother to kick them off; he would need to get back in the kitchen fast anyway. You press your palm to the growing length in his underwear. A shaky breath leaves his lips as he watches you.

“Did something upset you, Carm?” You gaze up at him wide-eyed, like you weren’t eye level with his dick, palming him.

Carmen finally unclenches one of his palms, bringing it up to cup your chin. “I don’t think asking questions was part of the deal. Hurry up and get your mouth on me.” He lets go of your chin and glances over to the clock on his desk. Carmy doesn’t want to take too much time. If he is gone too long, it’ll look suspicious.

You start how you always do, with your hands running up his strong thighs. You lean in and mouth over his boxers. That doesn’t last long, though, before Carmy threads a hand through your hair to pull your head back. His other hand shoves down his waistband, freeing his cock.

“Open. Open up nice and wide for me.” There’s no hesitation on your part as you let your mouth fall open wide, sticking your tongue out for him. “That’s it. Perfect,” he rasps. You look up at him, breathing heavily, when he presses into your mouth. You whine around his length as the salty taste of him overwhelms your tastebuds.

He doesn’t force his cock down your throat, no; you do that all on your own. You make it your mission to take him all the way down your throat, and you do just that. Tears well up in your eyes when your nose juts against his pelvis. Your mouth repeats this motion several times, hollowing your cheeks while you take him as deep as you can.

Carmy looks down at you with his bottom lip between his teeth. He’s breathing heavily through his nose. Seeing you with his cock in your mouth, drool spilling from your lips as you bob your head captivates Carmy. He would let you suck his dick all day if you wanted to. He’d let you sit at his feet and keep him warm with your mouth while he does paperwork.

There’s no time to be thinking about that now, though. Carmen’s eyes dart over to the clock on his desk once again. He’s already been in here for too long. He has too much shit in the kitchen to do.

With two hands, he pushes your hair back, holding your head in his hands. Carmy pushes you off of his length, letting you gasp for air. “Shit, you look so pretty, drooling for my cock,” he mumbles. A string of spit still connects your bottom lip to the head of his cock. Your lips are swollen and red. “Such a pretty little plaything. M’ gonna fuck your mouth. I don’t have time for you to blow me.”

Carmy pauses for a moment, raising his eyebrows. Despite the whole “free use” thing, he’s still trying to make sure you’re okay with this.

“P-please. Want you to cum down my throat.” Your jaw falls slack, just like before, waiting for him.

Carmy adjusts his grip to firmly hold the back of your head. He doesn’t go easy on you when he starts fucking your face. In every single thrust, his cock hit the back of your throat. You keep as quiet as you can, but you can’t help the gagging noises as you try to breathe through your nose. Tears flow down your face in full now as you take what Carmen’s giving you.

It doesn’t take but a minute of Carmy fucking your throat in earnest before he spills in your mouth with a low gravely moan. He pulls out of your mouth, watching you closely to make sure you’re still all good. Knowing he’s studying your every movement, you decide to put on a show. You open your mouth, letting Carmen see his cum sitting on your tongue, before swallowing it down.

“Fuck—I gotta get back to work,” Carmy tucks himself into his pants and is out the door within seconds, leaving you back to your tv show.

It’s quite awhile before Carmy walks back in the room again. It must be busy out there. The chaos in the kitchen is loud and clear from behind the closed door. You can just barely make out Carmen’s voice giving orders to his staff.

This time when he opens the door, he closes it with a loud slam. “Take off your clothes,” he commands, not even a second after stepping in the room.

As soon as your clothes are off, he’s pushing his pants down to free his cock. The love seat is small, but Carmen makes it work, climbing on top of you, and lining up with your core. He presses in to the hilt in one fast thrust, making a whine leave your lips.

“You’re so fucking wet, sweetheart. Did sucking my cock really turn you on that much? Poor thing, I left you all needy didn’t I?” His voice has an edge of mocking in it. “Well let’s hope you cum before i do, because I gotta be quick. Richie fucking over booked the reservations, making my night absolute hell.”

Carmy sets a merciless pace. His goal is clear, make himself cum. You’re starting to get too loud for his liking, whimpering every time the head of his cock hits that spongy spot inside of you. Without a second thought, Carmy presses a palm over your mouth, muffling your noises.

“Do you want everyone to know I’m using you as a fuck toy in here? What would they think, hmm?” You shake your head quickly; the idea is mortifying. “No? Then be quiet.”

Carmy fucks you within an inch of your life. He has mercy on you, removing his palm from your mouth and placing his thumb on your clit to rub fast circles. That pushes you over the edge, pulsing around Carmy’s cock. He spills inside of you a moment later.

The rest of the night goes by fast. The next time he comes in, he kneels in front of you. He doesn’t say a word as he laps at your center, bringing you to orgasm within minutes.

By the end of service, you’ve fallen asleep on the loveseat, curled in on yourself wearing one of Carmy’s sweaters. When Carmen walks in and sees your sleeping frame, he walks back out. He knows you wouldn’t have minded if he fucked you while you slept, but he just doesn’t feel right about it. He had already put your though the ringer.

You wake up, groggy and disoriented to the feeling of being carried. “Carm?”

“Hey baby. I’m just carrying you to the car. You did so good for me tonight. Proud of you.”

“Oh- I didn’t mean to fall asleep. M’sorry.”

“You need your rest, my love. Don’t apologize. Let me get you home, and get you in bed so you can get some sleep.”

[hopesangelsprite]

Too Sweet 🍭(Illumi x Reader)

Summary: Illumi never really liked sweet things... until he met you, of course.

Pairing: Illumi x Chubby!reader

Warnings: manipulation (duh-), violence, mentions of blood and murder, obsession, etc. (let me know if I missed any)

Note: Best read while listening to "Too Sweet" by Hozier ;).

It can't be said I'm an early bird It's ten o'clock before I say a word Baby, I can never tell How do you sleep so well?

Illumi had become accustomed to certain kinds of diets throughout his years. He knew how to eat like royalty as well as how not to eat at all for days on end. That was simply how he was raised. This diet of his not only applied to food but to people as well. He'd acquired a taste for the strong, bitter types; the ones almost as barbarous as he was. If there was one thing he almost never had a taste for, it would be sweets.

You keep telling me to live right To go to bed before the daylight But then you wake up for the sunrise You know you don't gotta pretend, baby, now and then

He'd noticed how out of place you were instantly. The club he frequented was a haven for assassins, thieves, crime bosses, and other unsavory types of the lowest lows. Most people here didn't want to be seen and made an effort not to be, clothes dark and eyes darker. Yet there you stood behind the bar, hues of soft blue and yellow brightening your work attire, eyes brighter and purer than stars. His eyes followed you as you made your rounds across the club, eyes focused on your plush thighs and wide hips. It made him sick how soft and weak you looked. Most of him wanted to brush of your existence, to him you were an anomaly and nothing more. The other more sinister parts of him wanted to break you, to watch that innocence in your eyes fade into nothingness.

Don't you just wanna wake up, dark as a lake? Smelling like a bonfire, lost in a haze? If you're drunk on life, babe, I think it's great But while in this world

I think I'll take my whiskey neat My coffee black and my bed at three You're too sweet for me You're too sweet for me

Against his ingrained desires, he let you be. There was no use in him breaking you, in his eyes it wouldn't be long before someone else would anyway. So, Illumi carried on with life and ignored the small craving he was developing for you. It only grew deeper with each visit he made to the club. It wasn't often he was there either, his missions carried him all over the world for extended periods of time, but you never failed to be working each time he took his seat in the far corner of the building.

Illumi tried to drown out the yearning with whatever he could: bloodshed, money, women, etc. Still, he found himself watching night after night, taking note of the things that made you smile and the things you didn't smile as much at. Your interests became delicacies he dined on whenever he could. It wasn't long before he found himself wondering if your palate could handle the depth of his own flavor.

I aim low, I aim true and the ground's where I go I work late where I'm free from the phone And the job gets done But you worry some, I know

But who wants to live forever, babe? You treat your mouth as if it's Heaven's gate The rest of you like you're the TSA I wish that I could go along, babe, don't get me wrong

The first time he approached you, he was unassuming. he took a seat at the bar far enough to watch but not close enough to get caught. He nursed the whiskey he'd order earlier in the night, not particularly interested in the taste of it anymore. It seemed you were a little more confident tonight, meeting the eyes of other patrons unlike your shifts prior. You offered polite smiles and gentle chuckles as you carried on conversing with a man Illumi knew to be violent murderer no doubt priming you for the kill.

A whisper in the back of his subconscious told him to follow the brown-haired male out tonight, ensure he'd never get the chance to savor in your sweetness. He washed away the thought with the last of the amber liquid in his cup deciding he'd use him to his advantage instead.

Illumi wrapped his knuckles against the dark oak of the bar drawing your ears and eyes toward him. Another warm smile replaced the questioning look you'd donned upon the interruption after noticing his empty glass. You pulled his favorite brand of whiskey from the shelves before making your way over to refill it. He watched your movements, keenly taking note of your body language. Once the glass was filled, he nodded in appreciation. You nodded back, preparing to resume your previous conversation, only to pause upon noticing the ring on his finger.

"That's a pretty piece you've got there, sir.", you chirped over the loud music, "Must've cost you a fortune!". So, you had a thing for jewelry, huh? Illumi took a mental note before shaking his head. "It cost me nothing if you don't count my life as currency.", he mused while looking over his family's crest at the center of a jeweled band, "It's an heirloom, a part of my birthright.". You hummed in understanding while taking his hand in yours to get a closer look. A shiver ran down Illumi's spine at the softness of your skin against his. For a second, he wanted nothing more than to kill everyone in the building and have you all to himself.

You gently placed his hand down before displaying another one of your million-dollar smiles. "Well, I guess that makes you the priceless one then.", you spoke smoothly before leaving him for the murderer. From that moment forward, the seed had been planted and obsession had taken root within Illumi's dark heart.

You know, you're bright as the morning, as soft as the rain Pretty as a vine, as sweet as a grape If you can sit in a barrel, maybe I'll wait Until that day

I'd rather take my whiskey neat My coffee black and my bed at three You're too sweet for me You're too sweet for me

Two months passed before he decided it was time to carry out the rest of his plan. He'd spent the past few months at the very end of the bar making small talk with you and keeping you company when the nights got slow. He learned many new things from talking to you; how you were only a few years younger than him, your favorite foods and alcohols, the apartment complex you lived in. You seemed to be the most open with him when there was no one else around. He made you feel safe.

He'd also built rapport with you, taking out time to keep other criminals off your back and walking you out of the bar every night. Tonight, however, would be different. Instead of waiting with you for your taxi arrival, he ducked back into the bar with the excuse that he'd forgotten something of his. He crept his way to the back of the club eventually finding the stairwell to the roof. Illumi perched himself on the balcony and watched a shadow approach you from a rancid looking alley. He'd known the serial killer you been so kind to at the beginning of your job here would be waiting for you to be left alone just like any other night.

He listened to closely as the brunette rounded the corner and struck up a conversation. Not to his surprise, you kept it going smoothly in spite of the growing discomfort altering your tone. A beat and a half passed before your muffled screams fell upon Illumi's ears. He looked on patiently as the dark-haired man ambushed you and drug you into the alley he'd emerged from.

He followed closely behind from the rooftops, listening to the sounds of your struggling and crying. He fought hard to keep himself from intervening too soon and waited until the two of you stopped progressing into the maze of dark, damp passages. You'd been dragged into a dead end and unceremoniously shoved onto a pile of rotting trash. Illumi made note to have a bath drawn for you as your attacker drew closer with a long blade in hand. He waited for it to be raised above you before dropping down far away enough not to be noticed. Before any more harm could befall you, Illumi swiftly took control of the situation he'd manufactured and killed your would-be murderer.

I take my whiskey neat My coffee black and my bed at three You're too sweet for me You're too sweet for me

Illumi disposed of the bloodied blade before turning to face you. He braced himself just quick enough to catch your sobbing figure falling into his arms unbothered by the blood covering them. He sank to the ground with you in tow and held you close while whispering the promise that you were safe into your shaking frame. He tucked your head into the crook of his neck before gently rising to carry you to the safety he promised. As he cast a final glance toward the body of your dead stalker, he smiled.

All of you belonged to him, now.

He could indulge in your sweetness forever.

[rosemaze-reveries]

May I request weeping yearning and pining from afar but reader notices this and sends a message? 😚😚😚😚😚😚

omg who could this be ( ᷄ᾥ ᷅ ︎🫶) ty for the chance to write weepybeepy again

― spellbound

Disclaimer: This was loosely inspired by a scene in The Last Circus (the film Hullabaloo’s love triangle is based on). You couldn’t pay me to sit through that movie again but I’ve got to make use of those 2 hrs I wasted somehow </3

⚠️ Some Sergi/Margaretha. Reader uses they/them (sparingly).

Joker sits on the bench by the prop wagon, the one you instructed him to meet at, watching the other performers practise their stunts. A letter is clutched in his hands, written in your script, its envelope stained with tears that dried well over an hour ago. He’s beginning to accept that you aren’t going to show up. But Joker would wait a lifetime for you—if he had nothing else to cling to, he would always choose you. That’s how it’s been for years.

You’re the light of his life, a star on stage and off. He’s never missed a single performance of yours. He might even be more familiar with your schedule than you are. As brilliant as you are, you’re prone to such scattered thoughts that Joker is sure you wouldn’t be able to live on your own. He’s taken it upon himself to watch over you from afar. Every time you forget a piece of your costume, or your lunch, or a stage prop, he finds them for you; he sets aside a plate of all your favorites whenever you’re late to dinner (which is, impressively, most of the time). You’ve never known who your guardian angel is, and he adores playing that role for you.

That’s also why he believes you aren’t standing him up on purpose. But even if you are, even if this letter you sent out of the blue was all a setup, he would still play along for you.

“Joker, I’m so sorry!”

His eyes flick up at the sound of your voice. You’re hauling around several bags in either hand, props and cosmetics practically spilling out over the top. He jumps up from the bench to greet you, ready to rush over and take some of the load. But before he gets the chance you hitch up your bags and break into a sprint toward him. A couple of greasepaint tins tumble onto the grass, but you pay it no mind and even discard the rest of your things off to the ground with them. Then you toss your arms around Joker, squeezing him tight. His shoulders tense on impact, so stiff they nearly graze his ears.

No one has ever held him like this before. It’s almost unbelievable how much tenderness can seep through a person’s touch. He’s slow to process the sudden warmth that’s enfolding him. After a moment’s hesitation, he realizes this is a chance he might not see again for a long time. So he snaps free of his stupor, delicate fingers cupping over your shoulder blades for an awkward pat back.

“...I-It’s funny, I…” he mumbles into your neck, “I’m not sure I...” Halfway through his words fade out. It’s not meant to be a protest, but you can’t see it as anything else.

“Sorry, I couldn't help myself!” you quickly pull away. Joker mourns the loss. A prickling sensation lingers on the skin where you’d touched him. “There was a huge mix-up,” you explain. “I accidentally agreed to go shopping for the morning crew, and I told someone to tell you what happened but they couldn’t find you in your tent. I didn’t think you’d still be here!”

With a sheepish smile your attention turns to the trail of makeup scattered on the ground. “Anyway, I promise I’ll make it up to you,” you say as you pick up your things. “You know, Sergi’s treating us to dinner tonight. It’s nothing special, just a couple of our friends getting together for drinks. You probably know most of them already. Mike will be there! And Natalie too, obviously. I could let them know you’re coming and we’ll save you a seat?”

Joker doesn’t dwell on it for a second. You’ve invited him out for dinner — what do the little details matter? You will be there, the one person he adores above all else, and that’s enough for him. Sergi’s presence alone is excruciating enough to spoil it all, but he’d sit through it for you. He doesn’t even care that he never would’ve known about this get-together had you not felt guilty enough to extend an invite. This is a dinner date, no matter how you try to twist it. His heart skips a beat at the thought.

 “A-Are you sure?”

“Absolutely! And don’t worry about Sergi. I mean, this sounds bad, but he probably won’t even notice you if you sit on the end… Honestly, I get nervous around him myself so I know how to…” —appease him. You can’t bring yourself to say it out loud. “...Well, you know. But we can keep each other company!”

You’re so full of contradictions, Joker muses. Thoughtful, but careless. Sympathetic, but selfish. You talk to him like a well-meaning friend and yet you would’ve been just as happy without him tonight. But that’s alright, it’s not your fault. You’re that way with everyone, he knows that. He just has to step up for you to take a more intimate notice of him.

“Can’t promise I’ll be much of a guest,” he says, lips twitching into a wry smile, “but I guess I could swing by, if you’re going and all…”

And with that your eyes light up and Joker is relieved to know he said the right thing. As you pull him in for a goodbye hug, he closes his eyes and lets himself fall into you, savoring the few seconds your touch belongs to him. When you move to break away, his arms tighten, not willing to let you go just yet. But then he catches himself and his eyes flash wide as a rabbit’s, afraid he’d wronged you in some way. You only smile, gently tucking a lock of red hair behind his ear.

“Okay, I’ve gotta go drop these off! Dinner’s at seven, so let’s meet at the carousel a quarter till? See you tonight!”

“See you,” he echoes, dazed, and finally unhooks his arms. He watches you wave before disappearing into the busy Hullabaloo crowd. Then he reaches up to trace his hair, mimicking your touch.

This is love. He’s sure of it. He feels as though a fairy had come and bestowed a kiss upon him before vanishing with the wind. One blink and you’re gone, just a trick of the eye, and yet his body feels like it’s on fire. What a cruel spell you left on him—he’s pinned in place with butterflies flitting around his stomach, a heart that’s beating louder than his thoughts, and a dull ache pulsing up his leg.

— ୨୧ —

Not forty minutes pass before Sergi hears about the talk you had with Joker. He is Hullabaloo’s shining star, after all, with eyes and ears everywhere. He finds you on the Moonlit River Bridge throwing crumbs for the birds, apparently having nothing better to do, but you would have picked an afternoon of utter boredom over Sergi’s company any day. He strolls over to you and leans against the rail.

“Excited for tonight?” he asks. You spot Natalie observing from afar. She gives you a shy wave of her fingers, but keeps her distance. That’s all the proof you need to know that Sergi isn’t here for some small talk. Your gut tells you to stay on your guard.

“Uh-huh…” you reply, warily. “Do you need something?”

Sergi chuckles, before he slings an arm over your shoulder and begins reeling you across the bridge. Your legs stumble to match his pace, but you don’t fight him. “Listen,” he says as he walks, “you know I love Natalie, right?”

“Yeah?” You can taste the whiskey in his breath, burning your nostrils.

“She’s the love of my life. True love. Say it with me—”

“True love,” you echo.

“True love, exactly. I would do anything for her. And that clown you’ve been talking to lately, I don’t trust him. I don’t like the way he looks at her. I don’t want him even near her. You get me?”

That’s what this is about! All the tension melts from your face. “Oh, don’t worry! He’ll be sitting with me.”

“I’m worried about my wife,” Sergi insists, laying a hand over his breast. “So you understand I have to speak up when you invite someone that might hurt her. To my dinner party of all things. Look, you’re good company. My boys like you, I like you. But I don’t want a mopey clown to spoil my appetite. Right? We want to have fun. And we can’t have fun with him around. Right?”

He keeps up an easy smile, but his eyes warn you to choose your next words wisely. The pit in your stomach drops all of a sudden. You crinkle your nose to escape the smell of his breath and duck under his arm.

“I can just get a separate table,” you say, smoothing out your tousled sleeves. “I really don’t think he’s hurting anyone. Plus Mike’s fond of him, you know, they go way back—”

“(Y/N), I’m saying if I see him there, I’ll blame you for his murder.”

“......”

Those words roll so effortlessly off his tongue, you almost don’t believe you heard him correctly. Your blood runs cold, heart nearly stopping in your chest. This is my circus, is what he’s so graciously reminding you, I’m your meal ticket, not Bernard, not anyone else. You’ll listen to me. Knowing Sergi, this kind of threat is no surprise, and likely an empty one at that, but the sudden switch-up still gives you a jolt. You don’t know how to answer. All you can do is take a few slow steps out of his reach. Some kind of rebuttal rises in your throat, but you choke it back down for a half-hearted “Mhm,” instead, then break into a brisk half-run.

A miffed scoff follows behind you. “Christ, do I have to worry about you fucking up the mood too?”

Again, you don’t respond. He changes his tune a second later:

“I was kidding, (Y/N), you know that! C’mon, it wasn’t that serious! We’re all family here! Tell ‘em, Nat.”

Only at the mention of Natalie do you glance back. She seemed to have sensed the tension and rushed over. She has a soothing hand placed on his back, while Sergi’s arms are spread wide in the air, as if he’s expecting you to rush back in for a hug and say, “Oh, Sergi, I was out of line! I won’t doubt you again!” The sight of it makes your blood boil. You fear you might turn foolish if you act on your rising temper, so you swallow it down and face forward again. Before you storm out of earshot, you catch the last of their conversation:

“Natalie,” Sergi warns, voice low. You guess it’s because she hesitated to back him up. You can almost envision her scrambling to find her words when she calls from afar, a little frantic:

“He didn’t mean it!” she says. “You’ll still show up tonight, won’t you?”

You don’t turn around for her this time. A part of you regrets it, because Natalie is a dear friend of yours, but you feel like the wind’s been knocked out of your lungs. You’re sure you’ll have the chance to speak to her later, at least. She’ll come to apologize on Sergi’s behalf once things quiet down, try to reassure you that he was just a little drunk, that “he’s not really like that.” That’s how it always goes.

Watching you run off, Sergi spits on the ground. “Psycho making me look bad,” he sneers. “You know I was joking, right?”

“Of course I do, Serge,” Natalie coos.

“Right. Everyone loves Sergio the Happy Clown. I make kids laugh. I make you laugh, too. This goddamned circus would’ve burned itself to the ground without us here to save it.”

— ୨୧ —

Joker has spent hours fussing in the mirror.

With one clean stroke, he lines white facepaint above his lip, smoothing right over his cleft. He tries to rub it in with a careful finger. Blend it too much and the scar shines through; too little and he’s just drawn himself a milk moustache. There’s apparently no in-between. This is much easier to cover up when he’s in a full face of show makeup. At a loss, he decides to scrap the white and try a bit of rouge instead.

All the products at his disposal are made for the stage, bright and vibrant and grossly obvious in any natural setting. But as he wipes off the rouge he used on his lips, he discovers it leaves a faint stain behind. Not too prominent, yet it still conceals what he needs it to. Perfect. He uses that technique to plump and even the shape of his mouth. Satisfied with the results, he tucks his hair behind his ear before setting down his mirror.

“Joker, are you there?”

Oh, he loves that voice. Sweeter than anything he’s heard in this world. It’s yours, of course. But you shouldn’t have come for at least another hour or so — and especially not to his tent. …Unless he lost track of time? He glances at the striped canvas wall, the other side of which you’re presumably standing.

That was your voice, right?

He nearly knocks over his vat of lip paint as he lunges for the pocket watch atop his bed. It’s not even six o’clock. So he reassures himself that it’s nothing important. You’re probably just here to update him about the carousel’s faulty calliope or something. That’s a cute habit of yours, he’s discovered: you’re always compelled to tell whoever you can about the smallest of breakthroughs, insisting you’d forget about them otherwise.

He stands up from his stool to greet you, only for a rush of doubt to hit him. Quickly he grabs his mirror and scrubs all the makeup off his lips before slinking over to the slit of his tent.

“E-Early, aren’t we?” he greets, a little meeker than he means to. “Well, not that I mind…”

A weak smile ghosts his face as he talks, expecting to see you mirror it. But the one waiting for him outside holds their brows knitted together, eyes wild and distracted, as if they’d just witnessed a murder. That’s a side of you he never thought he’d see in his lifetime. His smile falls.

“I didn’t mistake the time, did I…?”

“No,” you say. “Um, listen. I don’t think you should come tonight.”

Joker assumes you’ll elaborate, and when you don’t, it’s him that mirrors your knitted brows. He comes closer.

“What happened?”

“Sergi’s upset about it. And he’s serious, I mean it.”

His breath catches in his throat just at the sound of that name. It’s easy to fear the worst. “He didn’t lay a hand on you, ri—”

“No, nothing like that.” You’re quick to cut him off with a firm shake of your head. “I’m sorry I keep messing things up. And about my letter, it wasn’t that important to meet somewhere special or anything. I just wanted to say thank-you for always doing so much for me. I notice, you know.”

As heartfelt as you mean to sound, your tone is devoid of its usual passion. Clearly meeting “somewhere special” had been an important part to you. Joker can imagine what’s coming next: you’ll say that you’re still planning on going to that dinner, that you don’t want to worry anyone, that you’ll see him tomorrow. He doesn’t want to stop you from doing as you like. But at the same time, you’ve cast him aside once already, and he fears his chances at pursuing you whittle away the more this happens.

Sure enough — you start to turn around. “Anyway, I’m still going to go,” you tell him. “I think it’d put Sergi in a better mood if things go like they’re supposed to.”

Joker doesn’t hesitate. He latches onto your arm, his hand quivering slightly.

“You don’t want to,” he points out. “(Y/N), forgive me for being blunt, but you’re shaken up an awful lot… Why put yourself through all that?”

You don’t deny it. “It’s not like I’ll be alone with him.”

“Not tonight,” he presses. “Not tonight. Stay here for a while. I-I’d be glad for the company, and… I’ll figure something out with Sergi. You can take it easy…”

You search Joker’s face. He’s not looking at you, his expression uncertain, gaze lost to the dust on the ground. The pull to stay grows stronger the longer you wait. It’s a tempting offer, and finally the weariness in your bones makes the decision for you.

[papergirllife]

Lee Jeno (M)

fratboy!Jeno x reader

Synopsis:

Jeno has a past that holds him back from what life could potentially offer him, and one of those, he thinks, is you.

WARNINGS UNDER THE CUT, YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED, FEEL FREE TO BLOCK ME IF YOU'RE UNCOMFORTABLE

warnings: minor character death (in the past), themes of grief and moving on, tooth-rotting fluff, Jeno being down bad but he was sort of an ass for a bit, crying during sx, sp@nking, mc's a masoch1st (kinda), body worship, unprotected sx, 0verstimulation, oral sx.

The music resonates the walls of the dingy frat house as Jeno makes his way through hordes of people on the dance floor, trying his best to squeeze through drunk college students to get to the kitchen, he's too goddamn sober to handle this amount of people as a self proclaimed, he checked his MBTI, obviously, introvert.

“Jeno! Finally made your way down from your room! Finally done studying?” Chenle asks on the top of his voice, clearly a little more than just tipsy, seeing how Jisung's the one making drinks right now, which the latter offers, but Jeno declines, he wants some alcohol to get him going, not blackout drunk, he still needs to get to his quiz in the afternoon tomorrow.

“I don't have much choice, not even the earplugs work against Johnny hyung’s speakers,” Jeno says with a sigh, looking out at the living area, this is going to be a long night, he thinks to himself.

“I told you to get the ones from that brand, they're only slightly pricier, you know,” Chenle chides, the irony, coming from the international student, but he knows his friend means well.

“They're out of my budget, it's fine, I started earlier just to get it done before this party anyways, I'll see you guys later, if you're not passed out by the pool that is,” Jeno jokes as he pours himself a mixture of whiskey and coke.

“Very funny, Lee, even if Mark leaves me out there in the cold, I know Jisung would save me, right bro?!”

Jeno doesn't hear what Jisung has to say, merely chuckling to himself as he makes his way through the crowd once more.

The worn out couch sinks as Jeno takes his seat, he watches as Jaemin talks about something animatedly with bombastic gestures and his tone pitched higher, he's going to be the perfect kindergarten teacher after he graduates being an education major and all, then there's Shotaro, watching wide eyed, engrossed in whatever tale Jaemin is telling, he's going to miss this, Jeno notes to himself, sighing at the fact that his sophomore year has begun and in a year's time he's going to say goodbye to all of this.

“Renjun said you'd be studying, didn't expect to see you tonight,” you say as you take the empty spot next to Jeno, Renjun on your side, you've always been his beloved little sister, Renjun is tiny, but for you? He'd pack a punch any time, his last victim was a 6 feet guy who was too handsy for his liking and dude ended up with a broken nose, he broke a finger too, but no one mentions that unless they want to end up in the same fatal tragedy.

“Finished studying, so I thought I'd come down here and join the rest of you,” and maybe because he wanted to see you too, not that he'd ever admit that, to himself or others, he has no right to delve into these emotions, it wouldn't be fair to you or her.

“Wow Jeno, no need to brag about your smarts like that, all of us know you're the top of the department,” you joke with a nudge of your shoulder, and with that slight movement, your thin cardigan slips down your smooth shoulder, revealing the strap of your tank top.

“Says the one that doesn't need to study and still passes,” Jeno retorts as he lets his eyes linger for a bit, before he decides to finally scoop up the collar section of your cardigan, covering your shoulder once again, and from the corner of his eye, he sees Renjun watching him.

“That's because I only aim to pass, unlike mister high achiever here, and I'm not cold, don't worry,” you say, but regardless, your body naturally inches closer to his, his warmth seeping through his bomber jacket has you hooked.

“Enough about me, what about you? What type of content are you shooting next?” Jeno asks, you're an almost full time influencer, the only reason you're still in college is because you want to get the degree as plan b, and Jeno, one of the few with a car, secondhand from his sister, always offers to drive you and sits through shootings with you, whether it be a trip to Olive Young or the newest cafe on the block.

“Probably gonna try doing those ‘a day in my life as a college student’ vlogs cuz some of my followers have been asking, but I'm not sure, it's a lot of work to film, might just end up going through my PR boxes instead or a review of this lip balm I've been looking for an excuse of getting,” you joke, knowing you, Jeno knows you're gonna get it and review it regardless, unless it's sold out, then he'd be one of the firsts to hear about your complaints.

“I could hold the camera if you want to,” Jeno offers, he always does, and you knew he would, it's why you asked in the first place.

“Thank you, my sweet assistant, knew I could always count on you,” you say before booping Jeno’s scrunched up nose, he always does that when you call him that, very textbook Taurus of him.

“Hey Jeno! Wanna play beer pong with us?” a girl comes up to him over the back of the sofa, tapping on his shoulder, probably his coursemate or something.

“Sure, I'll see you around, let me know when you wanna film, I'll see when I'm free,” Jeno says before giving you a little wave, following the girl to the beer pong area, and everyone knows she's going to end up inviting her to his bed, whether you like it or not.

“Since I'm not drinking tonight and I'm not a smoker, I'm craving Shin noodles, anyone want some?” you ask as you smooth down your skirt, you're gonna borrow your brother's apron, god knows you're one clumsy bitch and you love this mini skirt you searched high and low for, the things you do for a shushu tong dupe.

“Did someone say Shin noodles? I'm down,” is the first thing Mark says when he finally joins your friends’ little section, sex hair and a rumpled shirt triggering a few snickers.

“Sure, Markie, you should probably tidy your hair though,” you say before ruffling it up further, quickly making your way to the kitchen after, distantly, you hear Jaemin’s laughter ringing out even with the loud music playing still.

When you’re cooking the noodles, someone walks in, out of the corner of your eye, you see a familiar mane of orange hair.

“Hi Yang Yang, want noodles?” you could probably look for another pot if he wants some, you're sure Renjun stocked up some extra pots here, and even if he didn't, you're sure Taeyong did.

“I'd be down for your noods, if you know what I mean,” he answers coyly, his hand resting at your waist as he attaches himself to your side, watching you separate the noodles to cook them faster.

“Very funny, I'm on day 6 still, so thanks but no thanks, bud,” you reply, patting him on the hand at your side before you turn off the heat.

“Damn, talk about bad timing, no wonder you're craving for noodles, I'll just have a bit of yours, who's sharing with us? I'll go out and call them in, you can take the bowls out and stuff ” Yang Yang offers.

“Mark, he's at the sitting area,” you say before you feel Yang Yang leave your side, you carefully move the pot before fetching the bowls and utensils, grabbing the big thongs and ladle, you quickly get yourself a small portion, almost moaning at the familiar spiciness that ignites your taste buds in the best way possible.

“Wow, thanks bro,” Mark says, eyes lighting up at the sight of food, quickly fetching his own portion.

The two boys start talking about the latest NBA match while you eat in peace, you love eating while chatting up with friends, but you cherish having one on one moments savouring the food you're eating, Jeno calls you weird for that, but maybe that's because he keeps having that dry chicken breast for meals.

“Oh, if you guys want to fuck, you need to hurry up cuz Renjun just left with this girl not too long ago, and you know how he is,” Mark informs,

Renjun’s very particular about sleeping conditions with his one night stands, one time he was willing to pay extra for hailing a cab at 2am because he was sick of the artificial vanilla scent of this girl's diffuser.

“Not tonight, crimson rain's still in season,” you joke before getting more noodles into your bowl, meanwhile Yang Yang's stopped eating, he was just craving for a little taste.

“Oop, that explains the noodles, too bad for you dude, maybe Yuta hyung would have more luck,” Mark jokes, he always liked joking about how you got a roster of boys lining up at your doorstep, when in reality you're always bouncing between Yuta and Yang Yang.

“He got her last time, I gotta make my move faster this time,” Yang Yang says with a groan, putting down his chopsticks, having had enough of his fill.

“l'll let you know when I'm done, how about that, you whiny baby,” you tease, pulling his ear playfully.

Yang Yang cheers from his seat before getting up to wash his bowl.

“See you when the sky's sunny, baby, and Mark, basketball tomorrow afternoon, right?” Yang Yang bids the two of you goodbye, probably off to find another girl or game with Hendery.

“He's not bad, you know, simple minded dude,” Mark suddenly suggests, scooping more noodles then soup into your bowl before you put your hand up to stop him, that's enough noodles for tonight.

“He's alright, but I'm not looking for a relationship right now,” both of you know you're lying through your teeth, but it's the answer that won't stir anything up, you enjoy the dynamic you share with the boys, you're not gonna risk it, not that your feelings would ever be reciprocated.

“What about Yuta then? Is he more your type than Yang Yang?” Mark asks, always looking out for your heart, more than you ever did for yourself at least, which is almost the same for all your friends.

“Maybe, but no, he's not looking for a relationship either,” you explain, this time, not a white lie.

“Yuta thinks you're cool, I'm sure he'd be down to try if you showed interest,” Mark tries his best to convince you.

“I don't think I can watch idly if he looks at a girl with some neon-coloured box dye hair a little longer, I'd be seething, I need someone who's 100% down bad,” you say, trying to deflect the topic at hand.

“Alright, alright, I'll let you be, I'll get back to you when I think of someone new,” Mark says, not giving up on playing matchmaker.

“Have fun playing cupid with that terrible aim, Markie,” you tease before saying goodnight to him, planning on spending the rest of the night alone rewatching this k drama you love.

You were about to text Yeri, your roommate and bestie who had came with you, but upon opening your chat room with her, you realise she has once again ditched you for a boy she found. Oh well, guess you're just gonna crash in your brother's room, Renjun’s room is slightly bigger than most of the rooms in the house because you had once stayed here for a brief period of time when you were in between rentals, so there's space to fit in one more super single in his room, albeit a slightly tight fit, but at least you get to steal your brother's skincare for the night.

On your way to Renjun’s room, you bumped into Yang Yang once more in the hallway.

“Hey! Wanna game with us for a bit? It's just me and Hendery, we're playing COD,” he offers with that bright smile of his which strangely enough, reminds you of Lightning Mcqueen from the Cars cartoon.

“I don't know, Yang, I kinda suck at it,” you would love to have a switch from mobile to Xbox, but not at the expense of potentially ruining someone's game night.

“Come on, we're chill, Hendery dies all the time anyways,” Yang Yang insists, a hand on your back, steering you to his shared room, “but don't tell Hendery I said that,” he whispers by your ear before Hendery turns around to greet you.

“Yo! Nice of you to join us, Ten ditched us for the night so it's nice to have three players again,” Hendery exclaims, enthusiastically passing you the remote.

“Why aren't you guys partying like the rest of the frat?” you ask while picking a character.

“Parties are here every week, this one's kinda boring so might as well game the night away,” Hendery explains before noting how you're an urban tracker girlie.

And after two matches with the boys, you have to agree with the sentiment.

Jeno throws on a simple sweater before leaving his room to go get some water for himself and the girl on his bed, but something catches his eye from the other end of the hallway, it's you and Yang Yang, cosying up outside his room, Jeno’s fist clenched up when he sees you following into his room, he knows you sleep around casually, but he rarely ever catches sight of it, and it leaves a bitter taste on his tongue.

The party is finally starting to phase out, most of the partygoers are either passed out on the couch, or the unfortunate ones, by the pool or at the lawn. The frat members themselves are mostly gone, either retreated into their own respective rooms or have gone back with someone, so Jeno hadn't expected himself to bump into anyone when he came in to fetch two bottles of water.

“Why do you look like you want to squeeze the life out of those bottles, dude? Was tonight's lay not good enough for you or something?” Haechan asks, car keys dangling from his hand, he must've come in through the backdoor instead of the front, he once had someone puke on his Nike shoes so he isn't taking any chances anymore.

“Nothing, go to sleep,” Jeno deflects, god knows he doesn't need Haechan nosing into his business, which he has a reputation of doing so.

“When you're this pissed off it's usually either you fucked up a test or… is it her?” Haechan didn't even need to emphasise on who's the her when Jeno threatens to throw his half full bottle at him before he was stopped by Jaemin who had come in to dispose of some of the trash he had cleaned up from the living area.

“Jaemin ah, Jeno’s bullying me again!” Haechan whines moving to hide behind Jaemin’s wide frame.

“Stop provoking him and you'd be fine, now go, you're lucky I'm here to take the trash out,” Jaemin says before he ushers his bratty friend out of their kitchen.

“As much as you don't want to hear this, Haechan does have a point,” Jaemin says as he sorts the trash into different recycle bins, “she's not going to be single forever, and I know you love Eunbi, but it's been years, she wouldn't want to see you like this,” Jaemin explains with his most motherly tone that he dishes out unconsciously at times.

Eunbi was Jaemin’s cousin sister and Jeno’s girlfriend from 15 to 17, she passed away suddenly due to a drunk driving accident, and from that day onwards, Jeno has never really been the same again, he swore off the possibility of loving someone again, until you came into his life, his restraint wavering bit by bit as you take up his heart, piece by piece.

Jeno’s hand rises to his chest to feel the familiar butterfly charm hanging on his necklace, Nabi, he used to call her, because she used to love butterflies and also because they rhyme with her name, this necklace is Jeno’s only significant remembrance of her, other than their shared memories.

“I don't have any feelings for anyone, so it doesn't matter,” Jeno brushes off the topic with ease, he's had a lot of practice, and quickly leaves the kitchen.

With a defeated sigh, Jaemin watches his best friend go, hoping that one day soon, he'd be able to finally move on from Eunbi.

Another week passes and the weekend rolls around quicker than expected, Yuta was in the kitchen pouring himself a drink, spiked punch of some sort that Taeyong whipped up, some people got too drunk for his liking last week, so now he’s doing it himself before Chenle or Jisung gets the chance to.

“Oh, Yuta-ah, can you go and play with the kids? You know how truth and dare gets, and I don’t trust Johnny to be responsible, he’s always been such an instigator,” Taeyong says with a shake of his head, as he measures the vodka down to the tiniest drop.

“And you think I’d be the perfect candidate to keep an eye on them?” Yuta asks in disbelief.

“I trust that you’d do as I say for once, Yuta, the others are all still studying for their finals, just this once?” Taeyong asks, and how could Yuta say no when his best friend pulls out the big boba eyes.

Yuta sighs when he sees the sight of Jisung putting a whole dollop of wasabi in his mouth, but he can’t help but laugh when the youngest rushes to the bathroom before he inserts himself in the circle in between you and Mark.

“You’re playing?” Shotaro asks, already perking up at the idea of his big giving away bits and pieces of himself, Yuta isn’t exactly an open book, so he's excited to learn more about him.

“Yup, Taeyong told me to keep an eye on you scoundrels,” Yuta says before he catches Johnny’s eyes, the latter barking out a laugh, Yuta also notes how Jeno was seated next to his friend, he must be here because you’re here, maybe Yuta won’t keep his promise after all.

Things go by uneventfully other than some truths being spilled and Jaemin being told to twerk in the middle of the circle, which he was more than happy to do, however, when he was done his eyes landed on you, and because you’ve been saying truth for a few turns now, you switch it up by saying dare, and honestly, he knows all the truths because all these boys ask are things in the bedroom, taking advantage of the fact that Renjun is absent tonight, so things weren’t all that interesting, but now, Yuta’s interest is piqued.

“I dare you to make out with the hottest person playing,” Xiao Jun suggests, which garnered some groans, Yuta snickers next to you, Yang Yang isn’t here, so things are very much predictable.

You smooth down your skirt before you circle the men around you, eyes lingering on Jeno for a bit too long, the ones that know watch intently, but when you stop in front of Johnny, gasps ring out around the circle, cheers started erupting when squat in front of Johnny, the surprise on his face was evident, cute even if you’re honest, you’re glad you chose to be chaotic tonight, the panic in his eyes had you giggling, breath hitched when you lean in place a chaste peck on his cheek, when you lean away, and did a quick turn back to facing Yuta, Johnny barks out a laugh, while the rest of them back to groaning, you catch a few of them saying that they knew you were just playing them.

Yuta extends his arms, a knowing smile on his face. His eyes take in your plump lips coated in his favourite cherry lip gloss.

“Someone’s been stirring trouble, haven’t you?” Yuta says before he feels your hands tangled in long hair, and out of the corner of his eye, he sees Jeno glaring at him, Jaemin watching nervously where he’s seated.

“I’m always down for trouble when it’s you,” you retorted before you seal your lips with his, climbing into his lap, the familiar bulge of his belt buckle digging into your pelvic and the feeling of of his hands enveloping your thighs sends a shiver up your back, and you couldn’t help yourself, grinding into his crotch, the material of your skirt covering most of your movements, but Yuta could feel everything, smiling against your lips, before he pulls away from you, he could feel his cock twitching at the sight of your dazed eyes and swollen lips.

“Show’s over, I’m taking this one up,” Yuta announces, carrying you away from the shameless group of frat boys that were watching, it’s not their first time, but their curiosity never satiates.

“Damn it, now I need to be the chaperone,” Johnny says begrudgingly.

Jaemin’s silent as he watches his best friend fume in his spot, with a sigh, he cracks a bottle of soju he placed next to him before the game started, passing it to Jeno, the latter taking a huge swig, not long after, Jeno opts out of the game to look for a distraction for the night.

Your eyes flutter when you wake, the sun shining from Yuta’s opened blinds, his body warm under yours, his arm tossed over your waist which you remove to go wash up in his ensuite bathroom, the good thing about sleeping over at Yuta’s.

When you’re done, Yuta’s still sleeping away, you close his blinds for him, he’d probably want to sleep longer, he finished his finals not too long ago, he should be getting more rest.

So you put on your skirt from last night and stealing a sweater from his closet before you padded down to the kitchen, opening the fridge to fetch some ingredients for a basic omelette, spinach and eggs.

“There's still some leftover cranberry juice from last night,” Jeno says, startling you from stirring the omelette in your pan.

“Oh, nice, could you pour me a glass?” you ask, “if you want an omelette then you can fetch me more eggs and spinach, I'll make it,” you add on.

“Thank you,” Jeno says, handing you the ingredients after washing and chopping the spinach.

Soon after, the two of you are sat across each other on the island, joking about last night’s events, from the part where Haechan was dared to take off his shirt and go out for a quick run in the cold till the part where Jaemin had twerked in the circle and had accidentally shoved his ass at a very confused Jaehyun who had just finished a round of beer pong and wanted to see what was happening in the truth or dare circle, conversation was going smoothly and lighthearted until it wasn’t, by then the two of you have finished eating and Jeno’s washing the dishes.

“So you and Yuta…” Jeno trails off, his gaze absent, his fingers holding the fork rather tightly, knuckles white from the restricted blood flow.

“It’s nothing serious,” you brush off absently, you’re not lying, what you and Yuta have is strictly no strings attached, but if the lines were more blurred…you wouldn’t have minded if Jeno hadn’t holed up a place in your heart.

Jeno nods, unconvinced, or maybe he’s just blinded by jealous rage.

“Jeno?” your voice yanks Jeno away from the many images of you and Yuta holding hands and kissing, a scene cruller than what he had witnessed last night, but he bites his tongue from saying anything, not when he still has Eunbi’s necklace hanging on his neck, it wouldn’t be fair to any of you if he acts on his urges.

“Yeah?” Jeno grunts out, he didn’t mean to sound mean, but he can’t help it, just the thought of you and Yuta being something more just pisses him off, he isn’t even worried about Yang Yang, he knows you go to him for pure casual fun, you can never settle with a guy like that, he could tell you crave someone who has a natural leading aura, and that’s why he’s so down bad, the way your eyes light up when he helps you with something as simple as carrying your bag or ordering your food, every time he does something for you, he could feel his heartstrings tugging painfully.

“Jeno, if you have something to say, then say it,” you say, you don’t know why you’re feeling so confrontational today, but it’s been two years of running in circles around Jeno, and honestly, you’re tired, and maybe this would send your friend group into a catharsis, but you can’t keep tiptoeing your feelings around Jeno anymore, not when he obviously knows how you feel.

Jeno shuts the tap off before turning to face you, and something breaks inside him when he sees the conflicted look swimming in your pupils, and at that moment, he wants to wipe it away, and so he makes the mistake of pulling you close by the waist, sealing his lips with yours, and Jeno hasn’t felt this alive since a long time, he could feel all the nerves on his lips igniting like a dying flame miraculously being sparked till they’re a blazing wildfire, and the way his hands wrap around your waist, the warmth of your body rekindles a physical craving he’s never felt before with anyone else he used as a distraction of the loss of Eunbi. Eunbi, no-

Your heart shatters when Jeno pushes you away, searching his eyes for an explanation, but Jeno has his eyes closed, he looks too calm, taking a deep breath as if that kiss was merely a simple mistake, you’ve seen him act more emotional when he doesn’t receive his desired grade for a paper, are you nothing to him?

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that,” Jeno mutters through gritted teeth, eyes avoiding yours at all cost.

“Is that it? That’s all you have to say to me, Jeno? That our kiss was merely a mistake? Don’t tell me what you feel all this time is also some sort of fucking misjudgement, Jeno!” you lash out, venom in your tone as you throw out punches on his sturdy chest, and what made you angrier was that he let you hurt him, like he doesn’t even bother defending or protecting himself from your lethal accusation, you can’t even call him a coward, a coward wouldn't stand there and let you do as you please.

Fortunately for Jeno, Jaemin comes to his rescue, detaching your agitated figure away from his friend, trying his best to calm you down with sweet nothings, that you’re better off, that Jeno’s being an idiot, but the damage has been dealt, there’s nothing that can make you feel better, but you guess you expected this, you had too much faith in Jeno.

“I’m so disappointed in you, Jeno,” you say before you take your leave, casting one more disappointed look at Jeno, and at that moment, the man that you’ve always thought looked so broad in your eyes now looks like the smallest man who’s ever lived.

Jaemin sighs when he no longer sees you within sight, Jeno heaves out a shudder of breath, he could tell his friend was trying his best to hold himself up in front of you, how quintessential of Jeno, never letting anyone into the depths of his mind.

“You can’t keep doing this to yourself, Jeno,” Jaemin mutters as he checks for bruises under Jeno’s shirt, but Jeno brushes his hand away, rolling his sweater back down, even if you did bruise him, he deserved it for what he keeps putting you through, “Jeno, Eunbi wouldn’t have want to see you this way, she would’ve wanted to see you happy, not punishing yourself like this, she would’ve wanted you to move on, Jeno, you think she’d like seeing you wallowing in self loathing?” Jaemin says in a huff, he’s tried spelling this out in a kinder way to his best friend, but it doesn’t seem to get through that thick skull of his.

Jeno doesn’t answer, he just dodges his friend’s attempts of wanting to talk more, locking himself inside his room, wishing that the remorse, guilt, and heartbreak would just swallow him up. He hates himself for betraying Eunbi, even if it was just a mere kiss, contemplating on what Jaemin had said, could he really move on without feeling guilty as sin?

The cold wind prickles Jeno’s skin, his worn out padding not doing much to block the harshest of the weather, cursing to himself as he climbs down the stairs, not a single person in sight at this period and this hour, and then he sees it, the familiar tombstone, he sighs in relief as he takes in the sight of Eunbi’s tiny photo on the slab.

Fishing out a small cloth from his jean pocket, he wipes the photo of Eunbi before he wipes away the dust atop the tombstone and the dust on the slab of stone where he sits whenever he visits.

“I’ve missed you,” Jeno says as he places down a bouquet of roses, Eunbi loves roses, he calls it cliche, she says it’s because she loves how roses are one of the flowers that attract butterflies the most.

“I used to think I would get the opportunity to grow old with you, a house, a car, and maybe two kids, the cliche, but,” Jeno stops himself, swallowing the lump down his throat before he continues, “I guess those weren't in the cards for us in this lifetime,” Jeno says before exhaling a long sigh, “but sometimes I do think, would we have really gone on our entire lives? Would we have broken up along the road? Those 2 years of loving you, and spending my whole childhood with you by my side were beautiful, and every single day without you by my side was a living hell, but when I thought nothing could really bring me back to life, I met someone, and I feel so fucking guilty towards you, and I don't know if I'm supposed to feel what I'm feeling for her, I love you, and I always will, but I can't deny what I'm feeling for her either, so now I'm here, Eunbi-ah, please tell me what should I do, if you told me to wait till my dying days to reunite with you, I will, please just give me a sign,” Jeno pleads hopelessly, a hand caressing the tiny photo of Eunbi.

Just then, a tiny flutter of wings catches his eye, and a butterfly lands on the bouquet of roses in front of him.

‘Is this the sign I’m asking for?’ Jeno asks himself, but when he tries to sit closer for a clearer look, the butterfly flies away with a quick flutter of its wings, the bright yellow contrasting the cloudy sky.

“Are you telling me to move on too, Eunbi-ah?” Jeno says with a long sigh, next life, maybe things would be different then.

After watching the sunset with Eunbi, Jeno drove home and immediately stormed into Jaemin's room, his friend was busy watching cat videos when he interrupted him, not a surprising thing for him to do honestly.

“What’s up?” Jaemin asks, swivelling his gaming chair to face his friend who had made himself comfortable on his bed.

“I need advice,” Jeno said, which earned him one of his friend’s classic menace smiles which makes him look like the Grinch.

You have no plans today, you had just finished having pizza with Yeri, your roommate slash bestie announcing that you needed a self care day after the shit storm a certain someone put you through.

Suddenly, your doorbell rings, Yeri’s in the bathroom, so you get the door, assuming that she ordered dessert in advance without telling you, but to your shock, it was Jeno, and in his hands are supermarket flowers that he used to joke were overpriced for its minimal packaging.

“I’m sorry for everything, I was a coward and an emotionally constipated asshole, and I know I don’t deserve a second a chance, but if you’d give me the chance, I promise I’ll try my best not to fuck up, and if I do, I’ll promise I’ll make it up to you,” Jeno says, pleading his case with you, everyone often jokes about how Jeno looks like a samoyed, but right now, he looks like a puppy with the way his eyes are trained on you, analysing your every movement and flicker of expression, awaiting your verdict.

“You’re not an asshole for taking your time to mourn and move on from Eunbi, but Jeno, are you sure you’re ready to jump into a relationship? I know you still miss her dearly, and it was mean of me to ask so much from you, you don’t have to be with me if you’re doing this out of guilt, Jeno, I don’t want your pity,” you explain, you don’t want to see the sight of his guilty eyes whenever you’re with him, it would crush your soul to bits, to never have his heart entirely.

“No, I’m serious, I thought things through and realised that I can miss her and love the moments I had with her and still move on to the next chapter of my life, I used to think to love her means I shouldn’t allow anyone in my heart, but Jaemin’s right, she wouldn’t have wanted to see me like this, and I know you wouldn’t want to see me like this either, I want to give us a chance, I’m sorry I came to my senses so late, I hope it’s not too late,” Jeno says, his heart aches when he sees rivulets of tears stream down your face, he places the flowers on the bench next to him before he extends his arms to you, and he sighs in content when he feels your arms around him, your face buried in his chest, he reaches a hand up to pat your head, comforting you.

“Well, I just got a text from Joy that she wants to grab drinks, so I’m gonna head out, you two talk things out on your own, call me if you need anything,” Yeri says before she takes her leave, wanting to give the two of you privacy.

Jeno directs the two of you to the living room, plopping the two of your conjoined bodies onto the couch.

“Hey… don’t cry for me, I’m not worth it,” Jeno says, his hands wiping away your tears with the back of his hand. You choked up a laugh through your tears, swaying your head sideways.

“It’s not that, I’m just, I already accepted the idea of not having you, and now that you’re here… I’m just, surprised– but glad,” you confessed, god, you hate crying for a man, but at least the fool in this fable gets her happy ending after all.

“I’m glad too, sweetheart. I wouldn’t have been mad in the slightest if you said no, but thank you, thank you for giving me this chance,” Jeno says as he wraps you up in his arms, and he feels you sink into hold, and that’s how the two of you fall asleep on your bed that night.

‘Come earlier, I have a surprise for you ;)’

You smile to yourself when you see the text from Jeno, wondering if he got you the new grapes that are in season or something. When you got there a few hours earlier, the house was relatively empty, partygoers aren't here yet and only a few freshmen were setting up the place for the frat party. You let yourself in Jeno’s room, surprised to see that it’s empty, but soon you hear light footsteps pad into the room before your eyes are being covered by a familiar pair of hands.

“What grand surprise do you have for me, Jeno?” you ask, turning around, his hands drop from your face, but you keep your eyes closed, not wanting to spoil the surprise on his behalf.

“Wait, one sec, okay, now you can open your eyes,” Jeno says excitedly.

You peered your eyes open and a gasp left your lips.

“Oh my god, it’s blue!” you say, not believing your eyes, your hands reach out to touch his hair, not fried from the bleach dye, thankfully.

“Wanted to have something fresh to mark the start of our relationship, and seeing my hair on those filters you put on me gave me the idea of dyeing my hair,” Jeno explains, “do you like it?” he tapers off, a bit insecure because you look like you love it, but you haven’t said anything to confirm it yet.

“I love it,” you say as you turn his head from side to side to get a better look at the entire haircut with a giant smile on your face.

“Let me take a quick shower and get dressed then we can head down,” Jeno says with a quick peck before he retrieves his things and leave for the bathroom, leaving you to your devices, or moreso Jeno’s devices, you love watching concert videos on his screen, that expensive hunk of equipment is clearer than your vision.

However, halfway through watching old concert videos, you took notice of his drawer not being closed all the way, out of curiosity, you open it to see what it stores, and to your shock, a jewellery box is the first thing you see, the box design tells you that it isn’t anywhere near brand new.

Maybe you shouldn’t be snooping around, but you couldn’t help yourself, Jeno never gets mad at you, he even tells you his phone password, he has nothing to hide, and so you pry the box open with gentle hands.

The glint of the perfectly preserved crystals caught your eye, then you recognise the shape of the pendant, butterfly, Jeno used to wear this ever since Eunbi passed, why isn’t he wearing it anymore? Did he think you’d mind that he did? That wasn’t the impression you wanted to give off, there’s no point being jealous of someone who’s no longer here, that’s just absurd.

“Oh, you found her old necklace,” Jeno notes with no malice in his voice despite the fact that you feel yourself jumping slightly at the sound of his voice.

“I, I saw your drawer wasn’t closed all the way and just wanted to check it out, sorry,” you apologised, but Jeno quickly brushes off your apology with a reassuring smile, “why aren’t you wearing it anymore? It’s not like I’d get jealous,” you say, scared that the reason he felt like he was obliged to stop wearing it was because of your relationship.

“I know you won’t get jealous, and I didn’t take it off like right after you said yes, I just thought it was time a few days ago, to put some things to rest, I’ll look back on these things from time to time, but I think it’s time to put some distance for me to move forward,” Jeno explains as his hands are laid on your shoulders, the weight and the brush of his thumbs comforting you.

“I’m just worried you’re rushing things for me,” you reason.

“I’m not, so don’t worry,” Jeno assures once again, “how about we go down now?” Jeno suggests after hearing the music starting from below, you agree instantly, maybe you’re just too stressed about everything, a drink sounds amazing now.

“Look who just made their long awaited debut,” Jaemin said at the sight of the two of you making way to the usual spot your friend group usually sits at.

Jeno tenses up when Renjun meets his eyes, his best friend had given him a long talk when he had heard from you that Jeno finally came around, needless to say, Jeno would never want to get on his best friend’s bad side, he’s sure he would manage to beat him up despite being much shorter than him.

Distantly, Jeno could hear you tell Jaemin to shut up before there’s too much attention placed on you and Jeno, your skin is thick, but you know Jeno doesn’t like too much attention on him, hence with a little more teasing, your friends switch topics, and just like that things are back to normal, a bit too normal for your liking, because soon, a girl makes her way to Jeno to ask for a dance, but your boyfriend quickly declines and explains that he won’t be casually hooking up with anyone anymore.

Even though you were silent the entire interaction, Jeno could see the jealousy in your eyes and the way you immediately downed a shot of soju.

“Someone’s jealous?” Jeno asks, clearly amused by the sight in front of him, pulling you closer into his embrace, he doesn't want anyone eavesdropping on a conversation where you could possibly feel vulnerable.

“Nope, not at all,” you say briskly, clearly overcompensating, dodging his kiss, Jeno laughing at your antics.

“Okay, whatever you say,” Jeno says, letting you be.

Although unfortunately for Jeno, things get a twist of events when he sees Yang Yang waving to you from afar with a smile too friendly for his liking when the two of you were swaying to the beat on the dance floor, and you quickly see your samoyed of a boyfriend turn into a doberman right in front of your eyes, gone was the puppy eyes that are quickly replaced by the obvious glare in his eyes.

“Looks like someone's jealous,” you tease, playing with the freshly cut ends of his hair at his nape.

“Let's head up, party sucks today,” Jeno says, pulling you by your hand, leading you upstairs to his room, quick on his feet but not fast to the point where you can’t keep up in your heels.

When the door shuts behind you, Jeno quickly kicks off his own shoes before he squsts down to slip off your heels for you, then immediately he tosses you over his shoulder as if you weigh as much as a feather, tossing you on his bed with a bounce before he climbs on the bed himself, his moves slow and calculative as if he was predator stalking its prey, behind his eyes, you can see the gears behind moving as he thinks of what to do with you, but when you reach up to touch his cheek, you see his eyes softening around the edges, the control you have over him sends a shudder down your spine, Jeno smiles at that realisation when he comes to the conclusion that if you asked, he’d relinquish all control over his life to you if you asked, he’s willing to give you all of him at your request, now that he knows life is fragile not to love wholeheartedly, but he knows what you want, and for now, at this moment, you want Jeno to guide you, but what he asks you catches you off guard.

“What’s your average kill in a match on codm?” he asks as he hovers over you, arms caging your body.

“What? I don’t know, like 15 if you’re asking about multiplayer,” you answer in a tone of disbelief.

Jeno has that familiar cunning mirth on his face when he reaches for your phone that you had previously placed on his nightstand so as to not get in the way when things get heated.

“You think you can reach your average while I eat you out?” Jeno asks as he passes you your phone.

You feel heat crawl up your face when you register his words, can’t help but laugh at how ridiculous he sounds, but you’ll indulge him.

“I’ll try my best, just for you,” you agree, but you know there’s more to his proposition.

“Before you say yes, there’s a catch, if you don’t get 15 kills, for every kill you lack is one spank,” Jeno says with a quirked brow, his eyes challenging you.

You don’t consider yourself competitive, but when it comes to a game you know you’re good at, it ignites the dormant competitiveness in you that you swear you outgrew as a teenager.

“Deal,” you agree, you’re gonna win either way, if you fail awfully at the game, you still get to get your back blown out regardless, and in Jeno’s words, you've always been a masochist, maybe just a little bit. There must be some truth to it since you were sleeping with Yuta of all people.

“Let me know when you start,” Jeno says as you open the app, telling him when the countdown begins, and quickly he takes off your skirt and panties to toss it to the side of his bed.

Jeno starts off slow, his index finger tracing your slit, starting from the bottom, it piques your interest, but it doesn’t take away your focus entirely, until his fingertip hits the bundle of your nerves, your breath hitches, but you still manage to get your third kill of the game.

You look so hot like this, all concentrated on your phone screen, not so different from how you usually game, other than the fact that you now have your bottom lip between your teeth to ground yourself, Jeno hears another three more kills when he decides to go in for the actual kill, leaning down to capture your clit between his lips, hollowing his lips as his fingers enters you, so fucking wet, god, Jeno, groans to himself, he can’t wait to be inside you, your cursing distracts Jeno from his train of filthy thoughts.

“Died?” Jeno asks before he dives back to his feast between your legs, he distantly hears you cursing at a sniper before he feels your legs twitching when he finally finds your sensitive spot, fingers curling upward, knowing that you usually cave in and ask him to fuck you at this point when you’re having regular foreplay.

You curse silently when you realise you lost count of how many kills you managed to secure, you haven’t gotten a single headshot in this match, and when the score limit reaches its end, you can feel the knot in your abdomen threatening to snap, and so you quickly toss your phone aside to grind back on Jeno’s face, his nose has always been such a good placeholder for your clit to hump on, and Jeno loves it, loves how debauched you are, he could just watch you use him to chase your orgasm all night if he wanted to, and when you finally reach your high, a whine of Jeno’s name reaches his ears as he feels your sexy legs wrap around his head and your juices burst in his mouth and the excess dripping down his forearm.

When you finally come back to your senses after ascending to heaven, you check your score on your screen, you breathe a sigh of relief, 11 kills, you proudly show Jeno your score.

“So four spanks, you want to sit through your punishment or would you prefer if I do it in between rearranging your guts?” Jeno offers, since you did so well for him.

You ponder over the suggestion, but the thought of needing to wait longer to get filled has you choosing the latter.

“I think I’d like to be surprised today,” you say before you strip off the rest of your clothing, Jeno’s eyes following every movement you make, licking his lips when he sees the slight jiggle of your tits as you move about, that is until you settle on all four, presenting yourself to him, and a beast claws at Jeno’s belly for a need to just take you.

It’s like you read his mind, because you tell him to just put it in, that you’re loose enough from the foreplay, you say as you spread your cheeks for him, the sight of your wet pussy has him losing all control, who is he to deny you when you’re presented so prettily for him like this? He’s no god, any man would crack under your ministrations.

So he doesn’t hold back, grasping his cock in one hand while he parts your folds with the other, cursing when he finally slips in your warm and wet hole, slowly sliding in till the hilt, he loves this process, loves the way you shudder when you feel him intrude your walls inch by inch, your lips parted as your head rests on his pillow.

When you’ve adjusted to his size, you whimper out a singular word, move, before you feel your whole world fizzle away as pleasure clouds your head at the first thrust, always rough when you need him to be, rough and fast, that’s Jeno’s preferred pace, quickly locating your sensitive spot with the thick tip of his cock that has you screaming into his pillow, but no matter how hard you try to muffle your voice, the headboard banging against the walls is dead giveaway of how you’re having your back broken by Jeno, but you throw all caution to the wind if it means you get feel the feeling of such ecstasy flowing through your whole body, you swear every time he drills his cock inside you, the more pleasure you feel, and the dumber you get, when all thoughts of sanity get replaced by the primal need to chase your high, your train of thoughts, or lack thereof since all you were thinking were the word ‘cock’ on repeat, gets broken by a harsh smack on your butt, it came out of nowhere, catching you off guard, and it shows by how your walls clench tightly on Jeno’s dick, your release coating his length.

“Fuck, you’re such a fucking pain slut, aren’t you? One smack has you cumming on my dick like some virgin,” Jeno spats out as he keeps fucking you, knowing that you’re extra sensitive after two orgasms upping his motivation to drive you absolutely mad.

Jeno quickly finds your clit, the poor thing swollen with the treatment Jeno previously put it through, rubbing circles on your bundle of nerves roughly, which has you bucking before he sends two smacks its way.

“Fuck,” you curse to yourself as you feel tears prickling the corner of your eyes, trying so hard not to cum from the pain, and in doing so, you clench around Jeno so hard that has him stop mid thrust to anchor himself, he still wants to get at least one more out of you before he cums.

He resumes after having a bit fun with fondling your tits, thanking gravity with the way he could feel the weight of them in his palm, he’s gonna have to suck on them after he’s done with this, he thinks to himself before he goes back to chasing his high, planting one of his feet on the ground to fuck you faster, and soon you could feel yourself cumming at any second, whispering how you’re close to Jeno, before you feel another spank being sent to your clit, the pain and the oversensitivity pushing you over the edge with a scream of Jeno’s name and a fist forming with the sheets on his bed.

“Fuck, love it when you squirt for me,” you hear Jeno distantly, not really registering his words until you feel your thighs being slicked with your release, which Jeno promptly cleans up with his pack of wet tissue he’s kept in his room by the dozen ever since he found out you’re squirter.

When the three towels are stripped from under you and into the hamper, Jeno finally joins you under his fluffy blanket, holding you close.

“I didn’t go too far right?” Jeno asks, he trusts that you will use your safeword if he ever goes over the limit, but he always does a final check in after you settle, just in case you drop into a vulnerable state where you need extra care and attention.

“No, of course not, I feel more than fine, but thank you for asking,” you say before pecking his lips sweetly.

“You hungry? Craving anything? I could check if the guys are getting delivery, see if you want anything,” Jeno offers, but you shake your head.

“Just want some cuddles and sleep, I’ll let you know what I’m craving for brunch tomorrow, but now, I need to recharge,” you say as you snuggle closer to Jeno, practically attached at the hip, but Jeno lets you, combing through your hair for you as you drift off to sleep.

Jeno was first to wake, quickly climbing out of bed to shut his blinds, knowing that you absolutely despise being blinded by the sun rays first thing in the morning, you’ve always been a night owl after all.

After washing up in the bathroom, he makes his way back to you, still sleeping, cuddled under his blankets, just like how he’s tucked you in before he left his room, you don’t move much in your sleep, Jeno notices as he climbs back in bed, it’s no wonder why you always remain in his arms the whole night.

Jeno looked over to his alarm clock to see that it’s almost 10am, he knows this is the time you prefer waking up, and when Jeno sees his blanket slipping off your shoulder to reveal your smooth skin, Jeno has the best idea on how to wake you up, and maybe, even the whole house if he does well enough, and well, unfortunately for the other people sleeping right now, Jeno’s always been a top scorer for anything he puts his mind to, Jeno chuckles to himself at the thought of being a menace as he makes his way under the blankets.

You’ve never had everyone giving you the stink eye before, well, at least not in this frat house, and the one who looks most annoyed is none other than Haechan, whose room is next door to Jeno’s.

“I swear to god, hearing them made my hangover even worse,” Haechan mutters, but loud enough for everyone at the breakfast table to hear, Johnny was the first one to laugh, Johnny had left the party early for a hookup hence the lack of a hangover, he had just got back in time for this comedy show.

“You’re laughing?! My head is still pounding from last night’s drinking and worsened by their shenanigans and you’re laughing?! God, why did Renjun have to get lucky last night, they always pull shit like this when he’s gone,” Haechan complains, or moreso whining, if you asked Jeno.

“Come on, Haechan-ah, it couldn’t have been that bad, I didn’t even hear a thing,” Sungchan says, coming to Jeno’s defence quickly, they’re coursemates after all, and Jeno is always a big help to him, he loves Haechan, but he’s doing this for his own good.

“Your room is on the other side of the house, of course you barely heard anything, she literally sounded like she was getting mauled by a wild animal, listen, let me try and recreate-

Two taps on Jeno’s lap has your boyfriend springing up from his seat with a deadly gaze and Haechan goes silent before he screams bloody murder, running for Jaemin or Mark, whoever he finds first, Sungchan sighs to himself while Johnny and Jungwoo laugh at the comedic scene in front of them, and you can’t help but laugh along with them too, Haechan might have tried making fun of you, but you know Jeno would always be there to silence him for you, and honestly, you could get used to this life you share with Jeno.

The end.