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karinasbaby · 8 months ago

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ENHA HYUNG LINE — IT’S LIKE SUPERNATURAL ! ⋆

⋆˙⟡♡ — “𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞’𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐢 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐥”

ᥫ᭡ P. fem!reader x hyung line. | W. fluff !! a lot of it! a few brief suggestive moments, riki, petnames, kissing ! mentions of showering together and yeah !! | WC. 3k+ | A,N. i’ve been in my soft girl hours for a really long time now so enjoy :D !!

IN WHICH..?! the hyung line realise exactly when they’re utterly and helplessly in love with you ! ♡

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ | feedback & reblogs r greatly appreciated :D ! enjoy & have a wonderful day / night <3

⋆.˚ 이희승 | VICTORY FOR YOU AND FOR ME.

✴︎ ۟ . | “that’s not how you’re supposed to fight him off!” heeseung jumped at the sudden raise in your voice from besides him when his character died again for the seventh time in the past twenty minutes. his fingers halting to a stop above the buttons atop his controller, “the villain is obviously going to hit you if you approach it from there!” you continued expressing your frustration while scooting closer to him on the couch.

heeseung remained silent as the confusion and stress from not winning this final level was making his head spin, he was wholeheartedly and absolutely done with this game that riki suggested to him with stupid claims of “i finished it in two hours!” and “it’s so easy you’re going to love it hyung!”

he shouldn’t have believed the younger. not when he spent two hours on the first three levels alone.

considering the fact that the previous game riki recommended him had a heart stopping jumpscare squeezed in it at the end (that resulted in him shrieking so loud that he woke you up from your nap which led him to be locked outside of your shared bedroom for the rest of the day), trusting riki should be the last option for heeseung when it comes to game recommendations.

“you’re supposed to use your weapon when he gets closer too, seungie.” you snickered while you began to move his little pixelated character correctly this time, the damage from the villain’s health bar showing immense progress in comparison to when the character was under heeseung’s control. heeseung’s eyes remained switching between your focused face and the screen that showed the merciless slashes of his character against the villain.

the satisfying sounds of you pressing on the buttons accompanied by the grunts of the characters echoed in the silent living room that welcomed the crimson and coral lights of the sunset atop its walls and floor, the same spread of colours reflected against your skin as well which inevitably threw heeseung in a trance.

you’ve always been beautiful in his eyes, yet at this moment you looked ethereal.

the soft glow of the screen changed with each praise after the successful hits on the villain, each colour reflected off of your eyes that appeared shinier than before, and heeseung knew he was done for when you subconsciously poked your tongue into your cheek engrossing yourself in complete concentration and focus on winning the final level for heeseung, unaware of the fact that he couldn’t care less about the game right now.

as if a spell had been casted on him, a witch that forced a bottle of love potion down his throat— heeseung was entirely enchanted. oblivious to the rapid beating of his heart against his chest, fighting with his ribcage to escape from his body that became aligned with countless goosebumps, chills and shivers running down his spine as his mind turned into a shimmering puddle of pure love.

so this was the love that he’s only been able to hear about? to see movies of and read stories about? was the universe finally granting him the privilege of finally falling against the soft clouds of devotion and love that transcended all limits, all tenses and all boundaries?

your squeal of victory brought him back into reality, his unanswered question lingered in the back of his mind while a gentle smile framed his face and softened eyes at the sight of you celebrating your win against the villain after watching heeseung’s multiple losses for the past hour.

“that’s how you win it, baby!” you beamed, turning around to face him with the most gorgeous smile he’s ever seen, eyes shining in happiness that he vowed in that moment to always protect till his last breath, and he knew he needed no answer to his question anymore.

as you might have won the game, but heeseung won in life with you.

✧˖°. 박종성 | THE DIVINE ENCOUNTER.

❀ ݁ ˖ | the arcade has always been a space of comfort and safety for you, especially when you were accompanied by your dear lover.

jongseong who suggested an arcade date to you a few days ago after his schedule cleared up a bit now stood besides you under all the colorful and vibrant lights from around the arcade. one hand interlocked with yours while the other held on to the cotton candy he bought for you as your other hand was wrapped around the small cat plushie he won for you.

gift giving were for sure one of jongseong’s love language.

you nuzzled closer into the fur of the plushie when a sudden wave of wind breezed by you gently, sending slight shivers down your body that were noticed by jongseong.

“do you need my sweater, my love?” he asked as if he didn’t already have his jacket draped over your shoulders, his hand then separated from yours to grip onto the hem of his sweatshirt before you quickly stopped him, “there’s no need jongie.” your hand lowered to interlace with his again when he started to protest again.

“but if you fe—” “noona!”both of your heads snapped in search of the sound, the cry of a young boy who sniffled once your eyes lowered to land on his shaking form, tears springing from his eyes and streaming down his face with countless other droplets separating from his jaw onto the ground, one hand holding a bright green coloured balloon while the other rubbed his glossy eyes.

before jongseong could even process the sight of the weeping child, you were already lowered on your knees with your hands carefully reaching towards the distressed boy who seemed to hiccup before jumping between your arms, “what’s wrong, sweetheart?” you whispered to the child who clung onto your arms with complete safety, thankful for following his instincts that led him to you once his parents disappeared from his sight.

“i l-lost-” the boy inhaled shaky breaths, a new rush of tears falling down his flushed face as he tried to speak and utter the words that made his tiny little hands tighten their hold on you, “i lost my p-parents.” he sobbed before burying his face into your neck, his ballon long forgotten from his hold that now gripped onto jongseong’s jacket on your shoulder.

jongseong, who stood a few feet away from you remained frozen at the unexpected turn of events, though he was able to capture the floating balloon before it ascended into the sky, yet his focus was still glued on your calm and comforting demeanour that attempted to pacify the crying boy.

he felt himself falling in love further the more you whispered comforting words to him, if that was even possible with the amount of love he already held in his heart for you. it suddenly felt like none of it was able to fit in his heart anymore.

“hey… hey it’s okay, where did you last see them?” he finally came back to his senses and walked to stand in front of your figure that now carried the boy who snuggled closer to you, his hand moved upwards to tenderly caress the child’s back to reassure him of his safety, “i can’t r-remember” he stuttered further.

your concerned eyes found jongseong’s own anxious ones, the twist and spiral of each emotion in your gaze made his heart leap into his throat, the evident protectiveness and instinctual need to hide the child in your arms made jongseong’s entire perspective change in a few seconds.

your clear love and display of affection for him intensified jongseong’s adoration for you, previous questions and doubts about your relationship that he wanted to prolong till his last breath were all washed away in an instant. especially his concern over whether or not your thoughts and goals in your love life aligned with his.

now his biggest dream and desire to start a family with you didn’t seem impossible in his eyes, it actually seemed perfect for him.

“it’s okay little one, we’ll find your parents in no time.” you reassured, voice lowering to a mere excited whisper to travel to the boy’s ear that seemed to visibly melt in your hold at your words, he nodded at you once he lifted his face from your neck. the sight of his wet face instantly made your eyebrows furrow, you quickly turned towards jongseong who was now staring at the interaction between you two with the widest smile you’ve ever seen on his face.

“what?” you chuckled at his gentle eyes that gazed at you and the kid with fondness, almost appearing like they were yearning for the scene in front of him which made your head spin before you cleared your throat. “nothing..” he quickly shook his head, lowering his head while his smile widened, “could you please pass me a tissue from my bag?” you asked with an adorable pitch in your voice that made jongseong stifle a laugh as he extended his arm to give you the said item.

no words could describe how thankful he was for the random appearance of this kid that allowed him to see a different side of you, one that he wasn’t sure he’ll ever be able to get enough of.

‧₊˚ ⋅ 심재윤 | A SIGHT OF HEAVEN.

⟡₊⋆∘ | “the recipe says to add one cup of cho—” you were cut off by jaeyun’s flour covered finger that swiped the said powder on your cheek with some particles even gracefully falling atop your black shirt that you wore beneath your apron in the middle of the kitchen.

where jaeyun expressed his undying hunger for the cookies he claimed only you were able to make, to which you agreed on baking if he helped you in creating the delicious cookies.

and how you wished you hadn’t asked him to join you. because a few minutes after that first swipe of flour followed by jaeyun bursting into laughter you found yourself on the kitchen floor with him on top of you, both of you covered in atleast one bag worth of flour that tangled its way into your hair strands and your outfits, but atleast you were too busy giggling to pay attention to the mess that will require atleast an hour of cleaning.

in fact, the mess and the abandoned bowl of cookie batter was the last thought in your mind as jaeyun kept you in his hold against the floor, lips attached onto your neck to suck noisily at your sensitive spots just to hear your cheerful giggles at his touches.

“jaeyu— baby please, we need to clean up.” you were barely able to get your words past your lips with his continuous kissing that was now accompanied by his hands tickling your sides seemingly tired from resting on your waist, then after a few more soft kicks and complains from you, jaeyun finally lifted himself off.

allowing you to take in the sight of his questionable appearance, his eyes raked through your flour covered hair and the random spots that were also tainted with faint lines of melted chocolate, the two of you grinned at the other’s ridiculous appearance one final time before jaeyun helped you up from the kitchen floor and pulled (basically dragged you) to the bathroom.

chuckles and sweet whispers of love were exchanged between the bathroom walls as the two of you helped each other in undressing from the dirty clothes, bathing under the yellow shades of the sun that were welcomed from your window, a comfortable atmosphere taking place as you both stepped under the warm water with jaeyun’s hands instantly finding their home around your waist, he pulled you closer to him just enough to connect his lips to yours.

the feeling of you practically melting in his hold at the connection of his pillowy lips with yours made his heart thunder between his ribs, fingers tightening around your skin as he leaned back against the wall in hopes of grounding himself while you dizzingly deepened the kiss that made his head spin.

it was your simple head tilt to the side, the combination of the kiss deepening along with your tongue sneakily teasing his lower lip were enough to make jaeyun’s knees buckle, he was absolutely gone.

your hands then moved to rest against his shoulder blades, fingers gently tapping against his skin that warmed further under your touch than the hot water, and when you pulled away to squeeze in a short breath of air into your lungs his lips continued to chase after yours, eyes closed as he completely immersed himself in the feeling of you against him, drowning himself in your presence entirely.

and once the two of you finally separated after what felt like an eternity, jaeyun’s eyes were only open halfway. the sight of your lips tinted in a pretty cherry shade was enough to make him smile, unaware of the fact that his looked just as swollen as yours, and god jaeyun wasn’t prepared to open his eyes fully to take in the view of you.

he felt countless butterflies dancing happily in his stomach when his eyes connected with yours, your soft smile that graced your face for him only, your eyes that were decorated with wet lashes that held onto tiny droplets of water that appeared like crystals around your irises, pools that were filled to the brim with love so so much love for him only. the longer you looked up at him with so much adoration the more jaeyun felt his heart fluttering in his body.

he knew he was done for when he noticed the wide smile that stretched on his face in the glossy reflection of your eyes, never has he in his entire life felt himself so full with love.

but he couldn’t question himself for feeling like this either, not when the sun casted a golden light on you that made you appear as you were a piece of heaven itself that fell into the soft palms of his hands, not when you appeared like the reincarnation of all angels above, crafted with the utmost amount of love, purity and beauty.

in that moment, jaeyun couldn’t help but thank all heavens and universes that were skies higher than him for allowing his path to tangle with yours. as he’ll never ever dare to even think about unraveling your destinies.

⊹₊ ⋆ 박성훈 | MY BABY GLOWS FOR ME !

⋆⑅˚₊ | sunghoon has always longed for a love that he would allow himself to get fully lost in. to feel like he was walking between radiant flower fields, ones where he felt the petals gently grazing his skin while the clouds looked lower than usual above him, a love that cradled his lonely spirit and allowed him to travel it’s depths freely.

such love lived in his head for a time longer than he’d like. this desire of his seemed impossible to achieve in the beginning, he felt as if his wish was nonexistent, unavailable for him to even pursue.

but he wasn’t unfamiliar with taking risks either, he never feared away from dates and other potential relationships that had no promises of granting him his wishes regarding an eternal love. luckily enough for him, he thankfully never got too attached to anyone previously. it was as if his heart knew that this wasn’t what he was searching for.

so when the time for separation, the declarations of the failure of the relationship arrived, sunghoon didn’t feel too affected.

because if there was one thing that came to par with his incessant need to devote himself for a love for the rest of his life, it had to be his determined search and belief that somewhere in this small world, his other half that will engulf his heart in their arms existed.

and at this current moment, he couldn’t have been more thankful for his decisions. as his persistent search had paid off in the end. his belief and determination finally led him to you, who was sleeping soundly besides him beneath the fluffy blankets that enveloped your body.

he pushed himself closer to you, his bare chest pressing against your back. the events of yesterday came rushing back to his head, the remembrance of the intimate moments that were filled with blooming love and hushed whispers between only the two of you made warmth creep into his body, the adorable redness settling in his ears and cheeks which led him to bury his face into your neck.

his fingers brushed against your bare skin, gentle strokes that he hoped conveyed the affection he carried for you, the tip of his middle finger travelled from your waist to your hip, the movement causing you to stir in your sleep while your deep breathes gradually turned lighter, indicating your awakening to sunghoon who subconsciously held his breath in anticipation.

“hoon?” you whispered, voice still laced with sleep as you turned around to face him, unaware of the way sunghoon’s breath got knocked out from his lungs the second he got to see you in all of your morning glory. god how was it even possible for you to look more beautiful?

“yes, love?” he whispered back while his eyes studied your features that gazed at him tenderly, your presence completely took over his senses in that moment. all he could smell was the sweet aroma of your hair, he felt your soft skin beneath his finger tips, heard your quite whispers and voice that lulled his heart to fall deeper in love with you, he couldn’t take his eyes off of you.

allowing you to take over his focus, his vision and his whole being. especially now that you appeared like you were practically glowing in his arms, “you’re glowing baby, enjoyed last night a bit too much?” he chuckled when your cheeks visibly reddened at his words before you buried your head in his neck with a harmless pinch to his bicep that wrapped around you. “you’re acting like i was the only one that enjoyed it.” his fingers that were drawing small shapes and patterns on your skin came to a halt at your words.

“oh believe me when i tell you that i loved last night”his hand reached lower to pinch you back on your hip before he laughed at the shocked squeal from around his neck, his heart bursting with more love as you nuzzled yourself closer to him, wishing to have owned the ability to pause time forever in this moment.

as sunghoon didn’t mind to bath in your love and your glow for eternity.

♡ — hope u enjoyed !! :D big thanks to ariana for releasing supernatural & to boys world for having such adorable and love-radiating songs for inspiring me to write this <3

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paranoiastudio · 8 months ago

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Would you fuck me, Art?

pairing: Art Donaldson х f!reader

warnings: 18+ smut, p in v, cheat?

word count: 1,4k

English is not my first language, sorry about mistakes

- Would you fuck me, Art? - You ask point-blank, causing Art to choke on his drink. - If it weren't for Patrick, would you have fucked me?

This conversation should not have happened. You didn’t want to go to this party, but you forced yourself to come. You didn’t want to discuss your relationship with anyone, but Art knew about your last fight with Patrick and approached you himself.

And now, after three bottles of beer and a sincere conversation, you find yourself asking a similar question and understand that stopping now is not an option.

You looked at Art so intently, so alluringly, that he simply could not lie to you. And he decided not to lie, finally admitting how much he was attracted to his friend’s girl.

- I would fuck you right now if you asked. - Art whispers this on your lips.

The air around you becomes heavier every second, you feel the familiar heat in your lower abdomen and lick your lips, only attracting the attention of the man’s gaze to you.

- Would you fuck me?

- Yes. - You answer, perhaps, too quickly.

- If it weren't for Patrick, that's right?

- No. I... I would fuck you now, right here... If you asked me.

Your words seem to have broken Art Donaldson. He looks at you silently, thinking about what he heard. He should leave right now: you're his friend's girlfriend, you're a little drunk and upset, you can make mistakes.

But you still look at him, just five minutes ago you said that you were tired of Patrick and wanted to change something. Does this mean you're leaving Patrick?

- Ask me, Art... - Everything except you loses the sound. How can he refuse you? Art has wanted you, you was so close and yet so far away.

Art is a strong man, with a well-trained will, but even he is now ready to break. All he wants now is to be close to you and he doesn't care about the consequences.

- Let's go. - You accept his hand without objection and follow the guy, noting how soft his skin is. Patrick's hands were heavy and hard, Art's were not like that. Having pushed away this comparison, you turn to the crowd, no one seems to care that you are going up to the second floor.

- Whose room is this? - You lean your back on the door, Art leans towards you, otherwise your whisper would not be able to be heard.

- Guest room. Did you lock it?

You pull the handle twice, wanting to check for sure. After making sure that you won’t be disturbed, I quickly take off my shoes, embarrassed to wear shoes in someone else’s house, and sit down next to Art.

- Are you sure? - Art wanted to know for sure, he had to make sure that you really wanted this.

- More than. And you?

- And I. Can I kiss you? - You push back a strand of hair from your forehead and nod, submitting to the tennis player’s touch. Art kisses your neck, his open mouth exploring your hot skin and his hand squeezing your bare knee, not going any further.

- Don't be afraid, I don't bite painfully. - You giggle, seeing only tenderness and affection in Art’s eyes, not a hint of mockery or playfulness, as was often the case with Patrick.

- I’ll be ready to endure even if you take a bite out of me. - Art strokes your cheek with his thumb.

You reach for the next kiss and lightly bite the man’s lip, trying to force him to open his mouth. Art's tongue is very warm and tastes like a mixture of cider and something bitter. He glides weightlessly, pulling you into a long and affectionate kiss and you move easily, feeling his tenderness embrace you.

- I’ve always wanted you... - Art rests his forehead on your shoulder and runs his nose along your skin. - Patrick just... Damn.

- Hey... - You lift Art’s face by the chin. - He's not here, you know? Patrick is an asshole and we both know it. Looks like I picked the wrong guy...

You push Art onto the bed and sit on top of him. The mention of your arrogant and stubborn boyfriend (ex-boyfriend) made you angry and added courage.

- We don't talk about Patrick anymore, okay? - Art nods, watching you in fascination. - Fine. Now touch me.

You begin to pull off Art’s shirt, your hips rise and the man immediately puts his hands on your legs, stroking the skin and rising higher and higher.

- I don’t think we’ll need that. - You unbutton the tennis player’s light trousers and pull them down along with your underwear just enough to free half-erect cock.

- I... Please. - Art whines underneath you, which can’t help but make you grin, you haven’t even touched him yet. - Please, I want it so much...

You take the penis in your hand and make a few slow movements. The soft skin pleasantly rubs against your hand, with your other hand you would grab Art’s balls, he almost jumps on the bed and shamelessly moves his hips towards you.

- My poor baby... - You coo over the already hard member and lubricate the droplets from the red tip with excitement. - No one has touched you for a long time, right?

Art looks at you pleadingly, he is ready to ask, beg you, but you yourself are already on the verge and won’t be able to tease him for long. Especially when Art gets his finger under the hem of your underwear...

- Oh shit! - You stop all actions, and, lifting up your dress, you move your underwear and push yourself onto Ard Donaldson’s dick.

- God! - He opens his eyes wide and squeezes your hips so hard that you are sure that the dress was torn.

- You're so big... - You didn't lie, Art's dick isn't as long as Patrick's, but his girth stretches you out much better. - So good, Art.

A man bites his lip when he hears his name from your lips, it is one of the most beautiful sounds in the world. You both breathe heavily, getting used to the feeling of complete intimacy, you suddenly realize that you are not using a condom (if you believe Patrick’s stories, Art has never been with anyone at all).

You wiggle your hips, smiling predatorily at another hoarse moan, you always liked men who were not shy about the fact that they were receiving pleasure, and Art, with his heightened sensitivity, was just like that.

You lower your hot palms onto his chest, play with the short blond hairs and lean on him, starting to lift your hips.

Art huffs and whines beneath you, his strong hands gripping the blanket until his skin turns white. He doesn’t take his eyes off you, trying not to close his eyes from the pleasure that you and your beautiful velvet pussy give him, which hugs him so tightly that you want to howl.

- I feel you so deeply... - You push back the unruly hair from your face and smile, it was always nice to be filled, especially with Art. With him you feel a certain exclusivity; he seemed to be in inhuman bliss.

- Please, I... Damn! - Art sharply raises his hips and you hear a loud slap with which your bodies met.

- Touch me. - Art immediately slides his hand between your bodies and rubs your clitoris with his thumb. You spread your legs wider so he can see exactly how he slides in and out of you. - It’s so nice, Art.

His name sounds like a song from your lips and Art moves his hands to your waist, helping you move faster. He feels his own dick twitching and tries not to cum at the moment when you squeeze him especially tightly.

- I'm going to cum. - Your voice trembles and you moan, throwing your head back. - Do not stop...

Art continues to move inside you, cumming profusely and swallowing all his sounds, wanting to listen to your delicious sighs longer. You feel a mixture of your secretions flowing out of you, you feel how Art becomes softer inside you. You feel like you did everything right.

- I think we need to call Patrick. - You're breaking the "We don't talk about Patrick anymore" rule. - I'll take my things.

- I will help you. - Art gently traces circles on the skin of your thighs, the fact that you were still connected did not bother either of you. - I have plenty of space at home.

#challenges #art donaldson #mike faist #challenges imagine #challengers smut #art donaldson x fem!reader #art donaldson imagine #art donaldson smut #art donaldson x reader #imagine #smut

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blackleatherjacketz · 7 months ago

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Shadow and Sin: Chapter 5

Elijah Mikaelson, Klaus Mikaelson x Female Reader

Summary: Having just moved to New Orleans, you get intimately acquainted with both Mikaelson brothers, but don't find out who they are until it's too late.

This Chapter: You wrap things up with Elijah and reflect on your situation before Klaus invites you over for a private mentoring session.

Warnings: NSFW, 18+ Only!, Kissing, Dancing, Painting, Brush Play, Groping, Nipple Play, Light Masochism, Praise Kink, Vaginal Fingering, Neck Kissing/Licking, Female Orgasm, Power Imbalance

Word Count: 2.8k+

Read the rest of the story HERE

You spent the next few hours with Elijah that night, allowing yourself to feel worthy enough to take his hand and follow him out onto the dance floor. He took you back in time to the sounds of Cab Calloway and Ella Fitzgerald as the rest of the world faded into a blurry whirl around you. His strong hands grasped at your waist and fingers with such ease as he drew you in closer, you got the feeling that you were always meant to be held by him as that delicate grin idly spread across his lips.

For the very first time in your life, you finally felt the way society had born and bred you to feel around a man, the butterflies in your stomach insisting on lifting you all the way up to the ceiling if he weren’t there to anchor you to the floor. You could hear trumpets in the background, barely audible over the loud thumping of your heart as his hand slithered up your lower back, pressing your heaving chest against his before tilting your torso down in a dramatic dip. Instinctively, your arm reached up and wrapped around his neck, holding on for dear life as the music sped up, his lips grazing over yours. Your halted breath nearly made you see stars, his teasing mouth driving you wild as it mapped its way across your chin and jawline, forcing you to turn your cheek toward his.

He’d quickly straightened your spine back to a standing position, keeping the distance, or lack thereof, between you as your body trembled against his. All thoughts of Klaus had been pushed to the back of your mind as his freshly shaven face brushed against yours, turning toward you until his lips finally tasted the flavor of your desire for him. The kiss was chaste at first, slowly deepening as he held you tighter, his fingers pressed snugly between your shoulder blades to keep you from depriving him of what he wanted all along, of what you both always knew you wanted from each other.

The night, however, had ended shortly after that, Elijah claiming that he was a gentleman who wanted to take his time getting to know you as those butterflies were slow to calm their wings. He had given you his number so he ‘didn’t have to stalk you anymore’ and called you an Uber to safely drive you home. You fell asleep that night secretly hoping that he wasn’t going to be the one to get bored of you before disappearing into thin air.

———————-

A text from Klaus wakes you from your slumber mid morning, telling you to meet him at his studio around eight o’clock tonight, and to be ready to paint. Shit, you’d nearly forgotten about Klaus! You sit up and run a hurried hand through your hair, squinting at your phone to make sure Elijah hadn’t texted you after you told him that you’d gotten home safe, but he hadn’t. This is all starting to get a bit more twisted than you’d anticipated, a small sense of guilt climbing its way into your chest before you take a deep breath and force it out of your system.

Wait a minute, how many men have dated multiple women at the same time until they were sure which one they wanted a relationship with? And even then, how many of them did they keep on the back burner ‘just in case’? How many of them had lied in the process, leading them on until it was too late, or let them believe that they were something more than what they actually were? In comparison to their tactics, you aren’t doing anything vile or deceitful, you’re just… keeping your options open until you know how you feel. You aren’t even exclusive with either one of them just yet.

With all that in mind, you get dressed and go about your day, eventually driving over to the address Klaus had sent you, hoping your session with him tonight could make things a little clearer. With a bag full of paint and brushes on your shoulder, you reluctantly knock on the door of the industrial looking building he’d claimed as his studio.

“I do hope my little protégé is well rested after her rounds at the hospital.” Klaus greets you in a black Henley, streaks of green paint slowly drying on his knuckles as he holds up a glass of wine for you to take. He must have been eagerly awaiting your arrival.

“Well, not all of us are lucky enough to benefit from generational wealth.” You defend yourself, taking the glass of wine from him and following him inside the open concept studio.

Its ceilings are rather high for it being on the first floor, the windows taking up most of the east side as it offers a beautifully vast view of the river and the glittering city skyline. Composed mostly of exposed brick and steel piping with chipped paint, this isn’t exactly what you had pictured for someone like him, but you can’t imagine what you would have dreamed up in its place. “Wow, this place is amazing. You live here?”

“Oh no, this is just a studio I rent to get away from the unceasingly tiresome dramatics of my family.” He walks you past a few paintings of his own, beautifully emotive pieces of different styles stacked on tables and chairs, even a few scattered across the floor. It seems that painting for him is a necessity, a constant itch that he has to scratch in order to keep himself from going mad.

“Your family?” Oh god, is he married? Are you the other woman? You quickly glance down at his ring finger, relieved to find it devoid of any jewelry.

“My siblings, love.” He looks back and winks at you, easing your mind as if he already knew where it was going. “The lot of us still manage to get under each other's skin while living under the same roof, so I’ve had to result to this… barbaric hideaway in order to get any peace and quiet for my work.”

You roll your eyes as he calls this expensive piece of real estate barbaric, secretly glad that you didn’t invite him over to your place to paint. You wonder what eloquent and deeply offensive adjectives he’d throw your way when he saw the tiny corner of your apartment that you painted in, or all of your hand-me-down furniture.

“Well, I like it.” You tell him before taking a sip of your wine.

“Imagine my relief.” He jokes, stopping in front of a blank canvas mounted on an easel as he grabs a half-full wine glass that had been warming on the table next to it. “Now tell me, what gets a woman like you in the mood to paint? What inspires my little Frida Kahlo to create the bold masterpieces I’ve seen? With all that anger brewing inside you, I imagine it doesn’t take much.” He downs his drink and sets it back down where he found it. “But you don’t look very angry now.”

“No?” You raise an eyebrow before taking another sip, wondering where he’s going with this.

“On the contrary, love, you look quite well.” He waltzes toward you, his features shifting from jovial to predatory in an instant. “I was thinking we could work with that, that we could start off with a sort of collaboration. Nothing too fancy, just a way to get those creative juices flowing.”

“Collaboration? I’ve never done anything like that before.” You admit, all of the sudden getting uneasy about your skill set. What if your nerves get the best of you while he’s around, and you can’t deliver? What if he regrets taking you on as his protégé?

“Have you ever tried abstract before?” He pulls his phone out of his pocket and turns on some music, the open space allowing it to echo beautifully around you before he sets it down on the table.

“Abstract? No, not really.” You don’t hate the idea of abstract, but you’ve always just felt that it was sort of… too easy, somehow, a cheat that anyone could do. But you guess you’ll never really know until you try.

“No matter.” He walks around the table ladled with paints and jars full of different colored water, twisting the caps off a handful of colors before squeezing them into individual mason jars, carefully setting them in front of the canvas. His eyes glance up at you ever so often, watching you as if he fears that you’ll sprout wings and fly away if he loses sight of you for too long. “Are you willing to experiment with me?”

Jesus. What a loaded question.

He fills a glass of water and sets it down next to the rest of the paints, his darkened eyes back on you. “Are you ready to toss those inhibitions aside and create something truly spectacular?”

“I’m here, aren’t I?” You shrug your shoulders as if he isn’t aware of the insanely magnetic pull he seems to have on you any time you’re near him. As if he can’t already feel the air between you charge with potential energy, each atom vibrating at an accelerated rate, begging to be pushed into motion by either one of you at any moment. As if he couldn’t see all of that written plain as day, across your face as your features soften for him.

“That wasn’t an answer.” He twirls a clean paint brush in between his fingers as he strides up to you, pointing it at your face before tracing it along your chin and neck, humming to himself as he awaits your reply. His full lips pout as he brings them closer to your face, a habit you’ll never quite get used to, but certainly won’t complain about as the bristles from the brush excite each and every strand of fine hair across your skin.

“I’m ready,” you whisper as your lips remain parted, the muscles in your thighs and abdomen tightening instinctively.

“Good girl. Then let’s start by painting the canvas a color that matches your mood.” He continues to drag the brush slowly down your neck and across your clavicle, his eyes following raptly as it forces your breath to still. “I wonder what you could be feeling right now?”

Goddamnit. He’s really got his claws in you now.

“Excitement,” you start, trying to slow and deepen your breath as it shallows in your heaving chest.

“Excitement? Is that all?” He takes your hand and firmly places the brush in your palm before stepping behind you, keeping contact with your skin the entire time. “I fell in love with your artwork because it was brutally honest about the gruesome horrors of this world, and all you have to give me is ‘excitement’?” He clicks his tongue. “No, you can do much better than that. Why don’t you tell me what feeling makes those pretty little cheeks flush such a deep crimson, what makes that bleeding heart of yours race inside your chest every time our eyes meet.” He feathers his palms over your shoulders and moves your hair away from your neck. “I want to hear you say it.”

You swallow hard as he pushes your buttons, his hands collecting your hair to one side before smoothing their way down your arms, eventually finding familiarity on both of your hips before you finally speak. “I feel aroused.”

God, you’re so bad at dirty talk.

“Well, that wasn’t so hard, now was it?” He guides you toward the canvas step by step, his breath hot on your neck as his hands slink up under your shirt, smoothing their way up your belly until they slip beneath your bra. “Admitting how you feel?”

“No,” you whisper your lie softly, gasping as your nipples harden against his palms, putting any doubt of his intentions to rest. “It wasn’t.”

“Well don’t tell me about it, love, put it on the canvas.” He instructs coldly, squeezing your breasts as you shudder beneath his touch.

“Right.” You take the brush and try to keep it as steady as possible despite his seductive distraction, placing a large amount of red onto the palette before adding a hint of blue, mixing the two together into a deep, moody magenta. A twinge of pain shoots up into your spine as Klaus pinches both your nipples, forcing you to drag the brush across the canvas in a sporadic, diagonal pattern. “Klaus!”

“Don't mind me, just keep on painting.” He kisses his words into the delicate skin of your neck, twisting your sensitive tissue even harder as he draws out a tiny yelp from your lips and an arch from your back.

It takes every ounce of self control you have not to drop the brush and turn around to face him, but you continue to paint the base of the canvas the vibrant color of your desire. Through heavily hooded lids, you finally finish every corner, setting your brush down as Klaus takes the opportunity to pull your shirt off over your head before unclasping your bra.

“See how freeing it is to try something new?” He pushes the straps of your bra down your shoulders, tickling your skin even more until it falls onto the floor next to your shirt.

“Yes,” you whisper, the sudden exposure making you shiver in the air conditioning before the heat of his arms comforts you.

“Now,” he wraps his fingers around yours, guiding your hand to clean the brush in the water as his other hand makes quick work of unbuttoning your jeans. “Let’s really set you free.”

Like a puppet on a string, he has you dry the brush off before the two of you dip it into the black paint, letting it build and collect on the tip before lifting it back up. He takes his time before making you press it against the canvas, allowing it to drip down along its path, splattering onto your breasts and shoulders before leaving a trail of dots and streaks across the magenta background of your work. It’s almost enough to distract you from his fingers that now delve in between your folds, collecting your liquid warmth as if it were colorful paint itself and his fingers the brush, spreading a clear coat up and down your length before pulling up on your clit.

“Oh my god, Klaus” you whisper as he works his magic between your thighs, continuing to zigzag the black, tarry ooze across the canvas until the brush nearly runs dry.

“Look at that,” he nips at your ear, whispering his praise against it in a gravelly tone. “You’re a natural abstract artist after all.” He kisses the spot just behind your jaw, suckling your skin before licking the path of your pulse until he reaches the nape of your neck.

“You… you bit me last time.” You recall out loud, nearly getting lost in the lustful haze he’s so expertly created just for you.

“I did.” He smiles as he tastes more of your skin, thinking fondly of your last encounter as he rubs deep circles into your bud. “And you liked it.”

“I did.” Your breathless reply surprises you both, floating into the air a little too quickly as his fingers send more signals of hypnotic bliss up into your core, forcing you to drop the brush onto the floor.

“I knew it, I could see it in your eyes that night. You enjoy a bit of pain with your pleasure, is that it?” He lets go of your hand and grabs your chin, turning your face toward him.

“Yes.” His gorgeous face only adds to your building euphoria, alighting every neuron beneath his fingertips as he calls you out.

“Well, it turns out great minds think alike.” His blackened pupils expand with his growing arousal, their bluish green tint fading off into the recesses of his eyes. “We’re going to have so much fun together.”

You nod in response, barely able to utter a word as his fingers steal your breath completely, drawing a fuzzy curtain over your field of vision as odd patterns glow and fade over his skin and curls. You watch him grin as your visions intensify, changing colors, dimensions and brightness as he touches you in the perfect pattern to make your muscles clench and spasm in his arms, your toes curling from his deliciously expert precision.

“That’s it, love,” he whispers, turning your head to face the canvas as your orgasm rips its way through you. “See all those colors? All those patterns you couldn’t have even dreamed of before?”

“I see them,” you stammer, a stuttered breath in between each syllable as your heart threatens to break out of your ribcage. “Stars and pyramids…”

“Those are all for you.” He pushes his fingers inside your slick, wet walls, refusing to let your body come down from its chemical high just yet. “I want you to paint them for me.”

#klaus mikaelson #elijah mikaelson #the originals #klaus mikaelson x reader #elijah mikaelson x reader #niklaus mikaelson #klaus mikaelson smut #joseph morgan #daniel gillies

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ada7201 · 1 year ago

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Ok first time requesting for a bl x reader but anyways, can we get some crushing hcs for kaisher (him having a crush on reader) and any other character you'd like

Btw you know what kind of person Michael reminds me of when having a crush? He is the kind of person that doesn't know how to get his crushes attention so he resorts to annoying them and teasing the hell out of them just so their attention will be on HIM!

Anyways adore your writing! Have a wonderful day or night and don't forget to hydrate!

thank you! this idea is so cute, i love kaiser and i completely agree with you. he is totally that type of person!

the blue lock boys crushing on you (´ε｀ )

Kaiser, Reo, Bachira, Rin x reader < hcs >

please don’t to request any ideas you have, everyone ♡

Michael Kaiser

i feel like at first he’d think he hates you, but then overtime he realises, no, he doesn’t hate you - he hates the fact he loves you.

learnt to not hate that though, and embraced his emotions! (in his own way…)

HE DEFINITELY DOES THE HAND COMPARISON

instead of trying to win you over with happy smiles and kind gestures, he chose the other option

to annoy you.

i’ve got a list of things he does to be irritating (it’s his way of flirting)

when you’re walking through a doorway, he pushes your back a little

if you have long or medium length hair, he pulls on it (a bit gently) but can also work if you have shorter hair!

steps on the back of your shoes

if he ever catches you sleeping, he either licks your ear, blows on it or whispers something into your ear

pinches the nape of your neck

if you’re wearing a hair tie on your wrist, he pulls on it so it snaps back onto your skin (ouch!)

he also shows off a LOT

as much as we wants to annoy you, there are rare moments where he’s serious about his feelings

“what do you mean, you’re going on a date?” Kaiser asks, almost offended at your statement. he was sat down comfortably on the couch in your apartment, arms draped over the back. his head was turned to you, a frown on his lips as his eyebrows furrowed.

“i’m going out to a restaurant with someone.” you say simply, fixing your hair as you looked in the mirror. “a date, Michael. i’m sure you know what that is.”

“of course i know what a date is. what i’m saying is, why?” he asks, standing up from the couch and turning his body towards you.

“because he asked me out, and he’s cute.” you respond with a scoff, eyeing him.

“cuter than me?” Kaiser asks, folding his arms and tapping his foot against the floor of your living room.

your eyes widened as you turned to him. “what?” you ask, breathily.

“i said, is he cuter than me?” Kaiser repeats himself, eyebrows slanting angrily as his frown deepened.

“i mean, i guess so—“

“don’t finish that!” Kaiser would squeal, before rushing over to you with a pout on his lips.

was very offended that you thought the other man was cuter.

he literally begged you not to go

he ended up confessing afterwards and yay!! you guys got together!

Reo Mikage

acts of service!

i honestly think his crush would start off small, then got bigger and bigger the more time he spent with you!

he definitely became your “secret admirer” because he finds it cute to watch your reactions

he also likes listening to you try and figure out who it was

he’s the type of guy to slip a love letter into your bag, oh, i wonder who gave you that!

he’s a real gentleman!

opens the door for you, ties your shoe laces, ties your hair up if you need it

things like that, you know?

if he ever hears you talking about wanting something, it’s already wrapped up and sent to your doorstep!

playfully flirts either me, if you get what i mean

he’s a bit like kaiser, but a bit more silly

like he taps your shoulder then looks away

he’s definitely one of those “flirty” friends

like Kaiser, he does the hand side comparison thing!

i think that Nagi was the one to actually reveal that Reo like you

and it was a complete accident too!

you and Nagi were both sat down on Reo’s couch, tapping away at your phones as you played whatever game Nagi chose.

“y/n, you’re such a hassle. why are so good at this game?” Nagi would mumble, eyebrows furrowing curiously as he tapped a little harder on the screen. “honestly, i don’t even get why Reo likes you.” he pouted.

“what—?” your eyes widen as you quickly snapped your head in Nagi’s direction. “Reo what?”

“he likes you.” Nagi says, before pausing. “oh, just forget i said that.” he adds, before going back to playing the game on his phone.

“he likes me?!” you ask, hands reaching out to hold onto Nagi’s shoulders and shake him.

“you lost the game, by the way.” Nagi would state, ignoring your question.

he had promised not to tell you that, oops.

“who likes you?” Reo would call out from the doorway, a smirk on his face.

Nagi looked over to you, sending a slight glare as if to say “don’t you dare tell him”

“does someone like my y/n?” Reo chuckled, walking over to the couch where you and Nagi sat before draping his arms over the two of you.

your cheeks got warmer as you felt his touch. did he really like you back?

Reo was very upset to hear that Nagi outed him

until you said you like him back!

Bachira Meguru

he talks to you a little more than he would to anyone else, so let’s hope you’re a good listener!

asks you to go places with him all the time

in his head, it’s a date

very touchy with you, unless you’re not comfortable with it

what i mean by touchy, is like hugs, holding your arm, an arm around your shoulder, and other things

gives you flowers that he picks up from the grass

he also gives you little things that he finds

like buttons, rocks, pencils and things like that

he says he likes you a lot of times, but it always sounds like a joke so you never really take it seriously

so when he was serious with you, and said that he actually does like you, it was pretty surprising!

“y/n.” he says, face morphing into a serious expression. it was honestly a little scary - seeing Bachira without a smile on his face.

“uh - yeah?” you ask, heartbeat quickening slightly.

“i like you.” he announces, straightening his posture sad his eyes bore into yours.

“i - I know.” you respond, a bit nervously as you watched him lean a little closer to you.

“and how do you feel about me?” he inquires, unable to hide the smile that’s creeping onto his face. “do you like me back, y/n?”

he watched you nod, and that’s all he needed as confirmation to giggle and pull you in for a hug.

he wouldn’t let go of you after that!

he then showed you all the “love letters” if you can even call them that… he wrote for you

Itoshi Rin

a bit clingy with you

like, he constantly feels the need to stand and sit close to you

i feel like he’d also send you some little gifts anonymously, but for a different reason than Reo

he’s a secret admirer because he’s a bit too nervous to give it to you in person

he’s way more patient with you than he is with others

he also talks to you more than others!

always asks you to watch him play soccer and “rate” his skills or whatever (he wants to show off)

he secretly takes photos of you and looks at them in his free time, because you’re just so cute!

gets a little (a lot) jealous

then he’s a bit sulky for a bit

he almost confessed his feelings to you sooo many times then realised what he was gonna do.

when he finally did confess, i feel like it was when

the two of you were both sat down on a park bench, soaking in the silence as the moon shone above both of you.

you were busy looking out at the park, admiring the scenery and smiling at the little kids who were begging their parents to let them stay at the playground or a JIST a little bit longer!

but Rin was looking straight at your face. he couldn’t help it, the moonlight just framed your face perfectly; and your smile was the most precious thing he had ever seen in his life. he made a silent promise to himself to always protect it.

it was only when you turned to face him that he realised he had been staring at you for a full 10 minutes.

“Rin?” you ask, chuckling lightly at his startled expression. his mouth was slightly agape, and his eyes were a bit wide, innocent, almost.

“i-“ he stuttered a bit, bashing his head mentally afterwards. “i like you.” he said.

his eyes widened further, along with yours at the statement.

“what?” you manage to squeak out.

it was too late to go back now, Rin thinks to himself.

“i like you.” he confesses, before looking down shamefully. “sorry.”

“why are you sorry?” you smile. “that’s a good thing! i like you too, Rinnie.”

“you—?” he was shocked. “you like me back?”

“yep!”

he was extremely flustered afterwards, cute! >_<

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hyuny-bunny · 8 months ago

Text

cybersex | camgirl! x skz

prologue. chapter I

MDNI (18+): this series will depict sex work and acts of sex. this prologue has suggestive themes, nudity, and mentions of butt plugs

skz x fem!reader

a/n: I'll have chapter 1 up soon but I hope you all love this series as much as I do!

synopsis: after a month or so of becoming a camgirl! your career really takes off, you decide to get a place of your own to film content. a lovely building opens up with the perfect space for all your necessities but to your surprise, your favorite waiter boys and long time crush on the head chief of the restaurant you work also happen to live in the building. Bringing you to meet their own assortment of friends. what happens when they find out there's some holes in the stories you tell about your life style?

prologue

You always had a keen interest in the sex work. You had an nsfw twitter page for yourself but it was only really used as a means of saving material or on a bold occasion, posting some captions with said material. There was a thrill of seeing your notifications filled with compliments and praises of like-minded people who were just as horny as you. Your roommate Sana had gotten into doing camgirl work pretty early on. You had indulged your curiosity on occasion when she and her girlfriend would be streaming just down the hall from you. Popping onto the stream to see your roommate's body on display and her girlfriend sat cutely between her legs wearing nothing but a heart-shaped butt plug. Sana would encourage you to try it out at least, very aware of how much you had desired to try it out but always holding back. Financially speaking, you could only benefit from it. In comparison to what you two made in a week at your measly waitress jobs, she could make both your checks for two weeks in just one night and even double dependent on how long she streamed for.

“You’re not worried that someone will recognize you?” You asked standing in the newly furnished cam room, floor to ceiling decorated in all shades of pink imaginable.

“Not anymore, I revealed my face on stream so long ago, I haven’t given it much thought since. Besides, I could walk away at any moment I decide. I will admit there was a certain thrill with covering up in the beginning. I think there's something about hiding your identity while being in such a lewd state that elicits such an adrenaline rush. It makes the excitement of being watched and gawked at all the more fun.” Sana is now leaning on the desk where her camera and lighting equipment reside.

“I like the fun, bring me as much joy and excitement as it probably does for my followers,” There’s a slight flush that rises to the tops of her cheeks that you can still make out in the fluorescent lights, “The biggest thing for me is it gives me the confidence I need, the financial security is just a bonus.”

The windows were covered by drawn curtains that covered the entirety of the walls, allowing the room to only be lit by the neon color-changing lamps which to no surprise were set at a baby pink. The floors were covered by a fluffy throw rug, with very little wood peaking. There is a makeshift sofa bed that's covered by an assortment of pillows and silk sheets and another fluffy blanket. There sat on the floor is the giant white teddy bear, Mina, Sana’s longtime partner, gifted her just a month ago. You stayed quiet, absorbing your surroundings. You were amazed but also… jealous. Jealous of how she could find confidence and find security in what most people found so vulnerable. You let out a sigh, sitting on the almost too-silky sheets that caused you to slide right off the bed.

“Careful. You can imagine how slippery they are in the nude,” She laughed softly as she stared at you, waiting to speak again. “I see the gears turning… What’s on your mind kit-kat?” Your eyes bolt up to her.

“I’m just... A bit taken aback I guess. You could say jealous maybe. This is the frist time I’ve ever considered it as a viable option…” You let the sentence trail off not knowing what to say.

All your life, you had complexes about your body. Measured your self-worth in the way your body looked, and how it compared to other girls you had admired. The older you got, the better you were about mentally checking yourself, to realize it was okay not to be shaped like other girls. Finding it in yourself to feel secure in the body you had. Although you could keep those insecurities at bay most of the time, they would crawl out from under the bed like a hideous monster to plague your thoughts when you felt down about the lackluster love life. Bad dates, unreciprocated feelings, and talking stages that never went anywhere, that was the extent of your love life.

“You want to give it a try?” That question pulled you out of your thoughts, now you were the one with a bright flush across the tops of your cheeks. “I can help you get started, set up your account, and start promoting you on my own account to start you off with a bit of a following. That’s if… you really are serious about this.” Sana had always been so sweet to you, she had already been letting you take the spare of her 3-bedroom rental as you couldn’t afford to live on your own. She had always extended a helping hand when you needed but here was a chance to finally get you to land on your own feet for once. How could you refuse such an opportunity?

“I don’t know… I don’t think I’m cut out for something like this I mean look at you! I don’t know how anyone is supposed to get off looking at-”

“Finish that sentence and you’re never allowed to see Jiji again,” Sana interrupted, Jiji was your shared house cat who was slowly becoming more yours as time went on. “ I don't want to pressure you into anything but I just think you could actually see the benefit in this. Give it one try and if you don’t like it, I erase every trace of you.”

You sat with the thought, your brain tugging you to go for it. One chance and if it doesn’t work out no harm right?

“When can we start?”

masterlist • next chapter ->

#skz smut #skz imagines #skz scenarios #skz hard thoughts #skz x you #stray kids fanfic #stray kids smut #hyunjin x reader #jeongin x reader #bang chan x reader #changbin x reader #lee know x reader #han x reader #felix x reader #seungmin x reader #hyunybunnywrites #cybersexseries

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haikyu-mp4 · 3 months ago

Text

By comparison

Fluffy workplace romance working as a volleyball player in the Olympics with your rival and crush Hoshiumi, for my workplace romance event <3

requested by anonymous. word count; 933 – f!reader

Oh, the Olympics. The sound of volleyballs slamming whether you’re on the court or in the hallways, of shoes squeaking on the floor and wearing down the soles, and of course, of the inescapable men’s volleyball team being so loud. In particular, you were currently walking in front of Hoshiumi, Hinata and Kageyama, who loudly argued about whatever while you tried to focus on your teammates' chatter.

“Hey, chibi!” you heard, and it made you squint before you even bothered to turn around to see the hair of that arrogant-

“Hey, pigeon. Long time, no see.” You said this with the added challenge of a wink, making Hoshiumi scrunch his nose in distaste.

Speaking of last time, the two of you had been interviewed for being the same height, both recruited for the national team for Japan’s men's and women’s teams, respectively. The interview set ablaze a certain trend of comparing you two because, in addition to being the same height, you also played the same position.

Hoshiumi upped his step to catch up, licking his lips as he acted unbothered. “Not long enough. Where are you off to, the bench?” he teased while walking beside you, and your eyes betrayed you to travel down where his shorts turned into muscle that flexed as he walked.

“I’ll only be visiting the bench to rest my legs after jumping higher than you ever will,” you retorted before you stopped walking altogether, waving off Kageyama who apologised after bumping into you because of the sudden stop. Hoshiumi stopped too and crossed his arms, distracting you with his well-trained biceps. To say he looked smug now was the understatement of the century.

“As if. You’ll be left in the dust today.” The words almost sounded sensual despite their nature as he leaned in closer, and you could practically taste the sweet mint off his breath.

No one really understood this rivalry between you two when you didn’t even play in the same leagues, but that article had sparked the natural competitiveness in Hoshiumi and that sparked your… hots for him.

You raised an eyebrow, nearly purring your next words. “If it helps, I think you’re hot even if you’re below average height for a male volleyball player.”

It should have made him furious, and you almost wondered if he were when his face turned red and he suddenly stormed back in the direction he came from. With the options of moving along or chasing after him, you chose the one that would give you the least penalty rounds. Moving on.

In the men’s locker room later that day, Hinata asked Hoshiumi about your interaction.

“You’re still on about that? Come on man, be a feminist.” Atsumu said, and it would have been an admirable sentiment had it not come from that jackal.

“I don’t care that I’m compared to a woman. Sure, it’s a beautiful woman, insanely skilled and whatever. They put her seventh in that ranking of hottest female athletes in Japan, which is just insane, she should obviously be higher.” There was a break in his monologue, and most of the team tried their hardest to hold back their teasing as Hoshiumi might have forgotten his point. “Uhh… I just don’t like that the comparison is because of my height. As if that makes us more special than our talent.”

For once, Hoshiumi was glad Hirugami quit volleyball. Or else he would have been there and told everyone about his extensive collection of all the magazines you ever did photoshoots for.

Atsumu blinked, looking around him at the others and then back at the spiker. “Okay, dude. Slay.”

Meanwhile, in the women’s locker room, you smiled all coy as your friends squealed. The ones who were there with you earlier had lingered around the corner, listening in on your interaction with the male player.

“The tension between you two is literally glowing neon, he wants you sooo baaad,” one of your teammates said, making you giggle and tuck your hair behind your ears.

“Oh, stop it.” You turned to your locker to pull out a new shirt before turning back around. “You really think so?”

The morning after, you were on the way to the cafeteria. Hopefully, you could claim a chocolate muffin before they ran out. It was early, the sun barely greeting the world above the horizon. Passing down another hallway, you yawned and didn’t notice who was walking past you until he spoke.

“Good morning.” It startled you, making Hoshiumi stop to point at you and laugh.

“Give a girl a warning, please!” you scolded, but still managed to chuckle at the scene.

“Where are you going?”

“Cafeteria,” you answered simply. Only now that you were both so tired with nobody else around, did you realise that being the same height made it difficult to avoid eye contact. His eyes were interesting, reminding you of a bird and making you think of winter walks in the forest, and suddenly you didn’t want to avoid his eyes at all. “Chocolate muffin.”

“Hm,” he confirmed with a nod. “Sensible choice. I’ll join you.”

You started walking, surprised to see that he indeed had every intention of following you. So you stopped again, holding a hand on his shoulder and leaning in closer than you think you ever had before. Like you could give him a peck if you really wanted to. His eyes flickered downwards and almost made you back out of your plan.

A smirk slowly crept up your lips before you pushed him back and took off sprinting. “Race you there!”

masterlist

/@cottonlemonade you angel, thank you for brainstorming w me<3

#workplace romance #haikyu #haikyuu #hq x reader #haikyu x reader #fanfiction #hq #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu fluff #haikyu fluff #hoshiumi korai #hoshiumi kourai #hoshiumi x reader #haikyuu hoshiumi #hoshiumi fluff #hoshiumi #hoshiumi korai x reader #hoshiumi x you

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endereies · 1 month ago

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PICK YOUR POISON - CS / MS

No Nut November - Day 26

NNN Masterlist...

-➤ After Chris stood you up again, you went to Matt which led to some unexpected results

You weren’t quite sure how long you’d spent tapping your feet on the cold wooded floors. You weren’t sure how many more complimentary breadsticks you could have before you had to start paying. You weren’t sure if he was even coming.

The battery on your phone had deteriorated from a full charge throughout the night, you didn’t have Chris to entertain you. It was pathetic. Your own boyfriend had left you sitting at the restaurant, with only a wine bottle as company. The skin around your nails had been long destroyed by the edge of your teeth, gnawing at him impatiently.

With the amount of stress your studies had given you, the invitation to dinner was accepted with ease. He asked you when he noticed the strain of your behaviour, your eyes squinting past the fatigue. Knowing he set the date for only a week away, you restocked on his favourite perfume of yours. That ended up being reapplied throughout the night.

A waiter, the one who had realised the problem early on, had returned to your table. “Miss? Are you alright, would you like another drink.” The place as empty enough that you didn’t have to be forced out your seat but with people staring at you from around the room, they didn’t have to.

“I’m okay, thank you. I should take my leave to be honest. I appreciate it though.” You pulled your dress down as you reached for the small purse by your feet, wrapped around your ankle. It felt awkward enough to shuffle off the chair in silence, your hand not taken by Chris’. “How much was the wine?” The click of the purse was followed by the crashing of coins in your wallet.

“On the house, after tonight, it’s the least I could do.” She tried to be sweet, she really had. It was too much which resulted in a bittersweet smile and sagged shoulders. “Thank you.”

The chill of the night wasn’t helping your dampened spirits. Goosebumps rose to your skin and not even the warmth of your palm could subside it.

“C’mon, c’mon…” The ‘brr’ tone from the phone just left you desperate. Maybe he was hurt, maybe you were mad for stupid reasons. He didn’t pick up for a while. Why did he have to make you worry?

That went away when he answered, drunk.

You weren’t listening to the multiple calls of your name; the slur told you everything. Rage was quickly replaced with pity, for yourself.

You’d lost count at how many times he had abandoned you like this. The excuses started to be realistic.

‘My work meeting ran late’

‘ I think I got food poisoning’

‘I thought I booked it for next week instead’

But this time? He chose partying instead, you could practically smell the gin on his lips. Just as you did every time.

“Y/n? you there?!” His voice reverberated in your ears, his voice echoing in your mind. You just didn’t have it in you to hide your anger.

“You forgot, fucking prick” The end dial rung in a pleasant comparison to his voice. Disappointment ran through your veins more than rage, that emotion disappeared a long time ago.

The wind picked up, blowing the ends of your hair through the wind. Lines of brick pressed against your back, out the way of strangers walking by. Several options ran through your mind simultaneously and you chose the safest one. Calling Matt. Not only would you not have to spend money on an anxious ride, but you’d get company. You had enough of being alone tonight.

“Hey? How’s the date” High hopes and promise trailed through his voice, besides the obvious mouthful of chips. When he was met with a wall of silence and a shaky breath, he understood. He always did. “Right… want to send me your location.”

“I didn’t even ask anything from you?”

“You didn’t have to, my house or yours?” For the first time in a few hours a laugh slipped past and dispersed into the air. Solemn but honest. “Yours, please.”

He quietly hummed in acknowledgement, shovelling a few chips into his mouth to finish them off so he could hurry in your direction. You pressed the ‘end call’ button for him and leant your head on the line of bricks, the air of your breath mingling into the coldness. By now you assumed you would end up in your house, or the warmth of Chris’ bed, not the concrete.

A few strangers offered you a smile as you stood there, headphones covering your ears. At least they were warm.

Suddenly the honk of a horn made you meet eyes with matt, his arm hanging out the window, calling you with his hand. “Get in! Its fucking freezing out here.”

A wide smile crossed your face at the thought of being in that warmth your fingers started to crave and when the car door shut, you weren’t disappointed.

“Hey, uh- the heating is on and… here.” He leant into the seat behind him and gave you a hot water bottle that had a cute fluffy cover. “I made that while I got ready, is that warm enough or-?”

“Ahh thanks Matt, this is perfect.” Both of your hands immediately shoved themselves directly onto it, hugging it to your chest. He chuckled at the sight and began to reverse out of the temporary parking space.

“How long were you there for?” Matt tried to express how sincere he was when asking but when trying to focus on the road during night, that grew difficult.

“Oh- like… maybe two hours? I kinda lost count. I ended up on TikTok for a while”

“Two hours?! Oh sweetheart, you should’ve called me earlier.” You shrugged, too tired to shut down his offer.

“I guess I was hoping he would show up.” He couldn’t deny the reasoning behind your words, but he also knew how much it hurt you. Only now could he see the devastation on your face, thankfully no signs of tears. Guess the tissues he packed weren’t necessary anymore, they use to be.

His house was warm too, inviting. The goosebumps had subsided by now. You took this free time as a chance to grab a wipe from your bag and get rid of the makeup that was scattered on your face. Your lipstick was long gone with the amount you bit your lips out of habit, yet the deep eyeshadow remained resolute.

You had been laying on the sofa for the same amount of time you were in the restaurant for, a random sitcom entertaining you and Matt while you talked. Your heels were sporadic on the floor along with your purse. A loose hoodie over your shoulders, it wasn’t Chris’.

The silence was quickly broken by the front door crashing open. You sobered up a little when Matt jolted beside you. The late hour pushed Chris home, stumbling. The motion lights stayed on, shadowing his face from you. You didn’t need to see him, you wanted to hear him, an apology. One that would never come.

“The fuck you mean forgot?” He stated his words loudly, reciting your points from the phone call.

“You left me Chris, again. You promised me a date night, I waited for you. For near enough two hours!” Why didn’t he seem sorry? Now the tears begun to start. The pit in your stomach clenched harder, the breath harder to get into your lungs. It felt so expelled with disappointment.

“Sorry.” Spoken like a child that was forced to say it. He just stood there. How could he stand there like nothing happened.

“You know what Chris, I am done! Done with your stupidity, done with your lies and I’m done with your cowardness.” Rage filled your body fast. You weren’t sure what to do, but you just wanted him to know how it felt to be betrayed by someone, someone he cared about.

You took a glance at Matt who just sunk into himself as much as he could, he didn’t want to intrude. As you picked up your heels and purse from the floor, the hoodie became prominent in your mind. So did a plan. Without any hesitation, your hand gripped Matt’s jawline, pushing him towards you. You both met into a kiss, one neither of you pulled away from. He didn’t pull back until you did, he was too stunned to do anything else. Other than focus on the unexpected taste of cherries.

“What the fuck!?” Chris’ voice deterred your mind from going too far and with that you left.

The brothers were in for a long night.

@melliflws @yuhayeee @st7rnioioss @sturn-bugz @bueckers @worldlxvlys @raysmayhem-72 @patscorner @y0urm4m @bernardsbendystraws @junnniiieee07 @luverboychris @jnkvivi @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @shorthairchris @colorthecosmos444 @anabethinking @zay-sturns @anyaa2s @emilyfaith2003 @zariyamitchell-blog @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @sturniolosiphone @slutf4rmatt @flouvela @lovesturni0l0s @2prcntmilkluvr @ribread03

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signanothername · 4 months ago

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ngl, I kinda think I am the Duality of a Dream Sans fan.

And I say this, mostly because there are twos types of Dream I enjoy seeing in utmv media.

Fucked Up Trauma boy. He had trauma, it's acknowledged, and he's struggling with it. Does he actually start to stop being in denial and cope until much later? Nope. But we just love throwing angst and trauma onto these little guys, don't we? Most trauma he had involves guilt, self-blame, struggling with emotions, struggling with people-pleasing, saying no is hard, he has to save everyone, failure is not an option, etc. etc

Badass Dream. Wipes the floor with other in combat. Can and will curbstomp someone if need be. Takes no bull from anyone. Coping pretty well, all things considers. Probably pretty physically strong too(I headcanon all three Stars are physically strong, like, a lot, but here, it's a lot more portrayed)

Love seeing both of these, do you see the vision?

I absolutely see it Anon, I see it <3333

I actually love both these, and tbh, I can enjoy any interpretation of Dream as long as it doesn’t:

1- infantilize him (let this bitch be the grandpa he is)

2- makes him an asshole/secretly a bad guy to make Nightmare look good in comparison (he can be badass without being a jerk)

Funny enough, I think my interpretation of Dream is kinda in the middle of these two??? Like some sort of combination??

Idk how to explain it, but my interpretation of Dream can be summed up in 2 pics

Like Dream is full of trauma and isn’t coping well at all, he makes a lot of mistakes as he journeys through life after he’s free from stone, but he’s also badass and eventually learns to put his foot down when he needs to, he’s also a pretty good fighter actually (was forced to learn quickly if he wanted to survive), all while still being the kind big hearted lil guy despite it all

And nothing is more badass to me then to be kind in a world that shows him nothing but cruelty <33333

#anothers ask #dreamtale #dream sans

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thebunnednun · 5 months ago

Text

LOYALTY [Chapter 3]

Katsuki Bakugou x Sugar Baby! Reader

Summary: Fuck a breakup, you ever have your fiance and partner of 8 years dump you during his promotion party in front of your bosses and the whole office with the girl he told you, “Don’t worry about,” on his arm?

The man you moved continents to support and move in with while you worked from home and helped promote his hero career because you thought he loved you and he called it an investment in your future together while you just did it out of love?

Welp, now he’s kicked you out in a strange land and you’ve gotta make it on your own. When you can't get a new job or apartment and tuition is almost due: you’ve got two options: Strip it or lose.

And I guess the angry blond that keeps coming back to your club wants to help you too.

Chapter summary: You and Katsuki share a intimate moment before meeting face to face for the first time when you return his wallet after he tips you $$$$$ for a dance.

This chapters song is: Kendrick Lamar - LOYALTY. ft. Rihanna

Put that shit on loop.

------------------Chapter 3: Unexpected encounter-------------------

The club was a hive of activity tonight, the buzz of payday energy pulsing through every corner. You walked through the throng of people with a sense of purpose, a slight smile tugging at your lips as you considered just how much had changed in the last few weeks. Thanks to the generous donations from your online followers, particularly that mystery guy, you’d managed to pay off your tuition and even order some new furniture for your “room.” You’d been shocked when the items in your shopping cart had been checked off before you even had the chance to think twice about them.

Your landlord, Mr. Muhammad, had been helpful, going with you to scout out potential apartments and vouching for you as a reliable tenant. As a thank-you, you’d been buying groceries here and there, trying to show your appreciation. They were becoming your family in this. The fact that you were finally on the path to securing your future, both financially and academically, felt like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders.

But tonight, you were back at the club, ready to earn what you could from the crowd that had gathered.

You emerged from the dressing rooms, adjusting the straps of your outfit as you made your way towards the main floor. The girls—Marshmallow and the others—were already in their usual spot, laughing and chatting excitedly. When they saw you, they waved you over with wide grins.

“You should totally join us on stage today!” Ruby said, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

You felt your face redden at the suggestion, the idea of being out there in the spotlight making your heart race. But before you could respond, Marshmallow chimed in, her tone reassuring. “You don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with. It’s just an offer.”

You looked around the club, taking in the sea of faces, the noise, the energy. It was busier than usual—payday always brought in the crowds. Your usual spot, the private section where you danced behind glass, seemed quiet in comparison.

“I’ll do a little walk around and head to my usual spot,” you finally said, your voice thoughtful. “If no one shows up after twenty minutes, I’ll join you all on stage.”

The girls cheered at your decision, and Marshmallow blew you a kiss, her expression playful. You couldn’t help but smile back, feeling a mix of nervousness and excitement as you turned to head to the back of the club.

But as you began to walk, the path ahead of you suddenly became blocked. A group of men had gathered near the entrance to the private sections, their loud laughter and boisterous behavior catching your attention. One of them—a tall, muscular guy with a cocky grin—stepped forward, his eyes locking onto you.

“Well, what do we have here?” he drawled, his voice dripping with arrogance. He looked you up and down, clearly assessing you like you were some kind of prize. “You look like you’d be a fun time.”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, keeping your expression sweet as you tried to sidestep him. “I’m just heading to my section,” you said, your tone polite but firm. “You can’t touch me but you can enjoy the show.”

The guy wasn’t having it. He stepped in front of you again, blocking your path. “Aw, c’mon. Don’t be like that. How about you come hang out with us instead?” Nope, nope, nope. You knew a cokehead when you saw one.

You felt your patience thinning, but you kept your composure. “Sorry, but I’ve got work to do,” you replied, trying to move around him once more.

This time, one of the bouncers noticed the interaction and started making his way over, his expression stern. Before the guy could say anything else, the bouncer stepped in, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Let her through,” he said in a no-nonsense tone.

The guy looked like he was about to argue, but the bouncer’s glare shut him up quickly. With a huff, he stepped aside, allowing you to pass.

You nodded your thanks to the bouncer before continuing on your way, your heart pounding slightly from the encounter. As you walked towards your usual spot, you couldn’t help but feel a surge of determination. This place could be tough, but you’d gotten this far, and you weren’t about to let some jerk ruin your night.

Finally reaching your private section, you stepped inside, taking a deep breath to steady yourself. The room was quiet, the familiar setting helping to calm your nerves. You were about to slip behind the glass, ready to begin your routine, but as you looked out into the club, you realized something.

Tonight felt different. The energy, the crowds, even the encounters—it all seemed to be leading to something. You weren’t sure what it was, but there was a feeling in the air, an undercurrent that made your skin tingle with anticipation.

As you started your routine, moving to the music that pulsed through the club, you couldn’t shake the feeling that tonight was going to be significant. Whether it was joining the girls on stage or something else entirely, you had the sense that you were standing on the edge of something new, something that could change everything.

The club’s usual hum of activity had faded into the background as you settled into your private section. The room was dimly lit, the low, sultry glow casting long shadows across the floor. You adjusted your costume—a tight, sheer two piece set that clung to your curves, accentuating every dip and swell. The fabric was soft against your skin, shimmering slightly under the dim lights, and you checked to make sure it was sitting just right.

Suddenly, you heard them—the footsteps. Heavy, deliberate, and echoing out across the club floor like a metronome. The sound was unmistakable, a slow, steady rhythm that seemed to announce his arrival long before you could see him. A strange sense of familiarity washed over you, as you knew this client just by the way he walked.

You quickly straightened up, pulling the straps of your top taut against your shoulders and making sure every inch of the material hugged you just right. This client wasn’t like the others; he only watched you dance without asking you for anything lewd or to see your face. He didn’t even make song requests, you didn’t know why, and you weren’t going to ask.

You watched as he approached the sofa, his tall frame casting a shadow that stretched across the floor. He moved with a kind of confidence that made the air feel heavy, charged. You couldn’t see much of his face, just the outline of his spiky hair and the broadness of his shoulders, but something about his presence sent a shiver down your spine. He sat down, his large boots making a final thud against the floor as he settled in, the sound resonating through the room.

Deciding it was time to begin, you turned to the console and selected a song that fit the mood—Kendrick Lamar and Rihanna’s “Loyalty.” The deep bassline filled the room, vibrating through the floor and into your bones, the rhythm perfectly matching the sensuality you intended to convey. You let the music guide you, your body moving in time with the beat, every step deliberate, every motion slow and controlled.

“It's a secret society

All we ask is trust

(All we ask is trust)

All we got is us

Loyalty, loyalty, loyalty

Loyalty, loyalty, loyalty,”

As Kendrick and Rihanna’s voices flowed through the speakers, you began to sway, your hips rolling in time with the lyrics, the movements deliberate and teasing. You ran your hands down your sides, feeling the soft fabric glide over your skin before slipping them to the hem of your skirt. The lights caught the subtle shimmer of the material, highlighting your silhouette as you slowly peeled it away from your body, revealing the smooth curve of your ass.

“I’m a savage, I’m an asshole I’m a King,”

Kendrick’s voice echoed, and you turned your back to the glass, arching as you pushed the skirt down over your hips. You caught a glimpse of the client in the reflection, his figure still and silent, but you could feel his eyes on you, watching your every move. The intensity of his gaze made your heart race, adding to the thrill of the performance.

“Tell me who you loyal to

Do it start with your woman or your man?”

You continued, rolling the fabric down your legs, bending at the waist to give him a full view of your body. The costume pooled around your ankles, and you stepped out of it, kicking it to the side. Now you were down to your matching bikini top and bottoms, the fabric clinging to you, highlighting the curves you knew he was watching intently.

“Do it end with your family and friends?

Or you're loyal to yourself in advance?”

You turned to face him again, your fingers trailing down your body, over your thighs, teasing the edges of your bottoms as Rihanna’s voice took over.

“I said, tell me who you loyal to

Is it anybody that you would lie for?”

She sang, and you mirrored the confidence in her voice, sliding your hands up your torso, arching your back as you thrust your chest forward. You let the straps of your bikini top slip down your shoulders, giving him just a hint of what lay beneath before pulling them back up again. The anticipation built, the heat between you and the client almost tangible, thickening the air in the small room.

“Anybody you would slide for?

Anybody you would die for?

That's what God for,”

As the song neared its end, you dropped to your knees, spreading them slightly as you swayed your hips from side to side, your hands running through your hair, then down your neck, and across your chest. You gave one last slow, deliberate roll of your hips, letting the music guide you as you finished with a final arch of your back, the movement accentuating every curve.

The song ended, and you stilled, catching your breath, expecting him to get up and leave as most clients did once the performance was over. But when you glanced up, he was still sitting there, unmoving, his figure dark against the dim light of the room.

Puzzled, you slipped through the side door that led to the backroom where one of the bouncers stood. “Hey,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady, “why isn’t the guy leaving?”

The bouncer gave you a once-over before turning to check on the client. When he came back, there was a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “He wants to know if he could buy an hour with you.”

You tried to mask the surprise on your face, forcing yourself to appear cool and composed. You paused for a moment, pretending to think it over, before nodding. “Tell him yes.”

The bouncer nodded and left to relay the message, leaving you with your thoughts. You pressed your nose against the glass, trying to get a better look at the man who had asked for the extra time. His hair was spiky, sticking out in a way that seemed almost familiar. His boots, large and sturdy, suggested a man who was used to being on his feet, and his broad frame hinted at strength, power. He exuded an aura of control, but there was something else, something that intrigued you.

You couldn’t help but wonder what the fuck it was.

As the bouncer returned, there was a flicker of something in his eyes—amusement, perhaps, or curiosity. "The customer wants the same song," he said, his voice gruff yet tinged with the faintest hint of a smile. "He wants to see you dance to it again. You can switch up the routine, but he specifically asked for the same track." You nodded, a surge of anticipation bubbling up within you. The thought of performing the same song for the same man, knowing he was still captivated by your movements, sent a thrill down your spine.

You watched the bouncer close the door behind him, leaving you alone in the dimly lit room with only the frosted glass between you and your mysterious client.

With a quick decision, you moved to the corner where your outfits were kept. You stripped off your bikini, reaching for something a bit more daring—a lacy, black two-piece that left just enough to the imagination while hugging your curves in all the right places. The sheer stockings and garter belt added a touch of vintage allure, making you feel powerful and sensual as you adjusted them, ensuring every strap was perfectly aligned.

Before turning the lights back on, you glanced at the frosted glass. A mischievous grin played on your lips as you tapped the control to dim the lights further, bathing the room in a sultry, amber glow that cast soft shadows across the space. You wanted this routine to feel intimate, like a secret whispered in the dark between two best friends.

When you were ready, you positioned yourself against the glass, your hands splayed out in front of you, feeling the cool surface beneath your fingertips. You tapped your fingers to the opening beats, letting the music fill the room, its rhythm pulsing through you as you began to move.

“My resume is real enough for two millenniums

A better way to make a wave, stop defendin' them

I meditate and moderate all of my wins again

I'm hangin' on the fence again,”

You changed the pace, slowly rolling your hips to the beat, letting your body melt into the music. This time, your movements were more daring, more deliberate. You pressed your chest against the glass, the coolness a stark contrast to the heat building within you. The fabric of your outfit teased at the edges of your consciousness, reminding you of every inch of skin it covered, and every inch it left exposed.

“I'm always on your mind

I put my lyric and my lifeline on the line

And ain't no limit when I might shine, might grind

You rollin' with it at the right time, right now

Only for the dollar sign,”

With each word, you leaned into the glass, pressing your body closer, your breath fogging up the surface. You let your fingers trace over the fog, leaving a little heart before stepping away, toying with the barrier between you and him. You didn’t know where all this confidence came from but you weren’t gonna waste it. Your movements were slower, more deliberate, the sway of your hips more pronounced as you turned and arched your back, sliding down the glass as if giving in to the gravity of his gaze.

“Loyalty, loyalty, loyalty

Loyalty, loyalty, loyalty

10-4, no switchin' sides

I need

Loyalty, loyalty, loyalty

Loyalty, loyalty, loyalty,”

You dropped to your knees, arching your back as your hands slid down your body, feeling the lace and the softness of your skin beneath your fingertips. You let the music take over, your body moving in perfect sync with the beat. The lyrics spoke of loyalty, a deep and unwavering connection, and you channeled that intensity into every motion. You never had that before, but you knew what it was supposed to feel like.

“Tell me who you loyal to

Is it money? Is it fame? Is it weed? Is it drink?

Is it comin' down with the loud pipes and the rain?

Big chillin', only for the power in your name,"

As the music reached its peak, you stood up, arching your back as you slowly peeled off one of the sheer stockings, teasing him with every movement. You pressed yourself fully against the glass, your body leaving faint impressions in the fog as you moved. You brought your hand up, drawing a small heart in the condensation, before letting it fade away as you continued to dance, your body a silhouette against the light.

"Tell me who you loyal to

Is it love for the streets when the lights get dark?

Is it unconditional when the 'Rari don't start?

Tell me when your loyalty is comin' from the heart”

With the final beats of the song, you leaned back against the glass, your breath heavy, your body flush with excitement. You slid down to the floor in a split, letting the music carry you as you reached the end of your routine. As the last notes faded, you expected him to gesture for more, but he remained seated, the shadow of his figure unmoving from the red leather sofa.

“It's so hard to be humble

It's so hard to be

Lord knows is I'm tryin'

Lord knows is I'm dyin',

baby”

On the other side, Bakugou was struggling to keep his composure. His usual mask of indifference was slipping as he watched you, his eyes glued to the screen. The way you danced, the way your body moved in perfect sync with the music— those fucking lyrics — it was driving him crazy. He could feel the heat rising in his face, his heart pounding in his chest as he tried to maintain control.

What was it about you that got under his skin?

He couldn’t figure it out, but he knew one thing for sure—he didn’t want this to end. When you pressed yourself against the glass, leaving that little heart in the fog, it felt like a direct hit, and he was barely keeping it together. His hands clenched into fists, trying to resist the urge to blow off steam. He felt a bead of sweat trickle down the back of his neck, and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat, trying to regain his composure.

But the truth was, you had him—completely and utterly. And there was no turning back now.

‘Fuck.’

The moment the knock echoed through the room, you nearly jumped out of your skin. The tension in the air was thick enough to cut with a knife, and for a split second, you forgot where you were and what you were doing. Your breath hitched as you tore your gaze away from the mysterious man behind the glass. The knock had shattered the strange, intimate spell that had settled over the two of you.

But he was still there, still watching, still touching the glass where your hand met his. The connection between you felt oddly real, almost tangible through the cold, solid barrier that separated you. You could see his fingers, large and rough, tracing the heart you’d drawn earlier. His touch was gentle, almost reverent, as if he were handling something precious.

You bit the inside of your cheek, trying to ground yourself in the moment. This was just a performance, just another routine. You’d danced for plenty of clients before, had them watch you, admire you, but none of them had ever done this. None of them had touched the glass like this, as if they were trying to reach through and connect with something deeper. It was… unsettling, in a way that made your heart race for reasons you couldn’t quite name.

His hand dwarfed yours, the size difference almost startling. Even with the platform heels giving you extra height, he still towered over you, his presence almost overwhelming. You could feel the heat of his body radiating through the glass, a warmth that seeped into your bones and made your skin tingle.

You hesitated, unsure of what to do next. The whole situation felt surreal, like something out of a dream. But the show had to go on, and you weren’t about to let a little weirdness throw you off your game.

With a deep breath, you slowly moved closer to the glass, stalking up to the barrier with a predatory grace. Your eyes never left his head, trying to read the expression on his face, but the frosted glass obscured his features, leaving only the shadow of his form visible. The only thing clear was his hand, still pressed against the glass where yours had been.

You stopped just inches away, close enough that you could feel the cold emanating from the glass, a stark contrast to the warmth of your body. Your fingers twitched against the surface, and without really thinking, you tapped them lightly, a soft, almost playful gesture. He hesitated for a moment, as if unsure how to respond, before his fingers mirrored yours, tapping back in a gentle rhythm.

A shiver ran down your spine as you watched his other hand trace over the heart you’d left. The realization hit you like a ton of bricks—he was tracing it because you’d left it there for him. You’d drawn that heart in the fog, almost without thinking, and now he was treating it like it meant something.

And maybe, in some weird, twisted way, it did.

But this was just a show, you reminded yourself. Just a game. You were here to entertain, to give him what he wanted, and that was all.

Another knock on the door snapped you out of your thoughts. “I don’t hear any music!” the bouncer’s voice called out, a hint of impatience in his tone.

You blinked, realizing you’d been standing there in silence for too long. You glanced back at the glass, at the man whose hand still rested against yours, and for a moment, you considered pulling away. But something in his stillness, in the way he hadn’t tried to push things further, gave you pause.

You tilted your head slightly, studying him, and he seemed to do the same. The symmetry of the gesture made your heart skip a beat. You were tiny compared to him, almost fragile, yet you felt a strange sense of power in that moment. You tapped your fingers again, and this time, he didn’t hesitate. He tapped back in sync, as if the two of you were communicating in a silent, shared language.

His fingers drifted over the heart again, and you found yourself wondering why he was treating it with such care. Why was he being so delicate, so gentle? This wasn’t what you were used to, not at all.

The bouncer knocked again, louder this time. “Music, now !”

You sighed, rolling your eyes at the interruption, but a small smile tugged at the corner of your lips. The spell was broken, but you weren’t ready to let go just yet. With a final tap against the glass, you backed away, giving him a soft, almost coy look over your shoulder as you moved to restart the music.

--- You finished out the hour without much problem or anything like the glass touching that happened. Part of you felt a little dissappointed at that and you couldn't tell why. He was quiet throughout the rest of the time and left without a word. You wiped yourself down with a towel and threw on a lacy teddy before opening the secret door that was always locked on the clients side. That way you could collect the money after they left and get back behind the glass without anyone seeing you. He left it in the usual place, the table next to the red leather sofa and your heart almost stopped when counted out at least $5000 dollars.

'Five thousand dollars!!!'

Your mind immediately raced back to the live stream and you tried to calm yourself down. This had to be some sort of coicidence. No way this guy actually knew who you were. Then to make matters worse, he left his phone and wallet in the booth. You decided you had to find out for yourself. You let the bouncer know you were done before running back to the dressing rooms. You knew better than to hand over the stuff to the manager so you would have to find the guy himself. He may he bigger than you, but your shoes were stabbyier. You placed the items in a small purse you sometimes used to help your friends collect tips and stashed your money inside your locker inside your clothes like Marshmellow (Micheal) showed you. You made sure the locker was shut tight and tugged on it for good measure before you rushed back into the floor. You asked the doorman if anyone with large boots and spiky hair had left yet, who actually wasn't bad, and he assured you he that hadn't but that there was a client that came in with that description so he was probably still inside. You thanked him before taking a big gulp of air and making your way to the center floor.

The center floor was alive with the buzz of chatter, laughter, and music, and the stages were crowded, but your focus was razor-sharp as you scanned the room. The lights were dim, casting long shadows that danced with the movement of bodies. It was payday, so the place was packed with regulars and new faces alike, all looking for a night of fun. But you were only interested in one man.

Your heart raced as you moved through the crowd, your eyes darting from face to face, searching for the telltale signs—spiky hair, broad shoulders, those heavy boots that echoed with each step. You felt a mix of nerves and adrenaline coursing through your veins, making your steps quick and purposeful. You didn’t even notice the usual stares or the catcalls; your mind was locked on the task at hand.

He left his phone and wallet. What kind of person leaves something so important behind, especially after dropping five thousand dollars without blinking? Maybe all rich dudes really are weird. The thought made your stomach twist. Was he testing you? Or maybe it was just an accident. But you couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something more to this.

As you pushed through the crowd, you felt the small purse slung over your shoulder bump against your hip, the weight of it reminding you of what was inside. His belongings were in your hands, and that gave you a strange sense of nerves. He was bigger, stronger, sure, but you had something he needed. And that meant you had to find him. You clung to that thought, letting it bolster your confidence as you pressed forward.

You spotted Marshmallow—Micheal—across the room, chatting with a group of clients. She caught your eye and gave you a small, encouraging nod. She knew what you were up to, even without you having to say a word. That silent support made you feel a little braver as you approached the center floor.

The room was a blur of lights and movement, but then you saw him. He was near the bar, his back to you, broad shoulders hunched slightly as he leaned against the counter. His spiky hair was unmistakable, even in the dim light. The sight of him sent a jolt of adrenaline through you, and you had to force yourself to slow down, to keep your breathing steady. This was it.

You approached cautiously, your heels clicking against the polished floor. He didn’t seem to notice you at first, too absorbed in whatever thoughts were running through his head. You paused a few feet away, trying to decide how to play this. Should you tap him on the shoulder? Just hand over the stuff and be done with it? Or maybe you should say something more… calculated, something that would keep him intrigued.

Before you could make up your mind, he turned around, as if sensing your presence. His eyes locked onto yours, and for a moment, you felt frozen in place. Up close, he was even more imposing, his sharp features and intense gaze making your heart skip a beat. But you couldn’t back down now. You had a job to do.

“I think you forgot something,” you said, your voice steady despite the fluttering in your chest. You held up the small purse, letting him see that you had his phone and wallet inside.

His eyes flicked to the purse and then back to you. There was a brief flash of something in his expression—surprise? Amusement?—before he reached out to take it. His fingers brushed against yours as he did, and you felt a small spark at the contact, a reminder of the strange connection you’d felt during your routine.

“Thanks,” he said, his voice gruff, but there was a hint of something softer beneath it. “I didn’t even realize.”

You shrugged, playing it cool. “It happens.”

He didn’t say anything else, so you just tucked the purse under your arm as he looked at you with an unreadable expression. The silence stretched between you, thick with unspoken words. You could feel your pulse in your throat, the tension from earlier starting to creep back in.

“So, was it worth it?” you asked, tilting your head slightly as you tried to read him. “The hour, I mean.”

He raised an eyebrow, his lips quirking into a smirk that was almost too confident for your liking. “More than worth it.”

The way he said it sent a shiver down your spine, but you kept your expression neutral, not letting him see how his words affected you. You weren’t about to let him have the upper hand in this conversation.

“Well, if you’re ever in the mood to lose more of your money, you know where to find me,” you said, flashing him a playful smile.

He chuckled, a deep raspy sound that made your stomach flip. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

With that, you turned and started to walk away, leaving him standing there with a mix of emotions swirling inside. You yourself felt something. Relief, curiosity, and another visitor you couldn’t quite put your finger on. He watched you go, wondering if you’d see him again, and if you did, what that would mean?

And as much as you hated to admit it, a part of you was disappointed that the hour was over.

Maybe it was the intensity of the moment, the way your voice lingered in his mind, or the curiosity that gnawed at you. Before you could completely disappear into the crowd, you took a step forward, your voice catching him mid-stride.

“Wait.”

You stopped, his shoulders tensing slightly before you turned back to face him. He hadn’t planned this far ahead, and now that he had your attention again, he felt his pulse quicken. What were you going to say? You opened your mouth, but the words died on your lips as you found yourself staring directly into his eyes for the first time.

Time seemed to slow as your gazes locked. You felt like you were seeing him for the first time, really seeing him. His face was sharp, rugged, with a defined jawline and intense crimson eyes that seemed to bore straight into you. He had a look about him that was hard to pin down—confident yet guarded, like someone who didn’t let others in. You noticed the way his hair spiked out in unruly directions, a contrast to the disciplined aura he gave off. And then there was that small, almost imperceptible quirk of his lips, as if he wanted to speak but was struggling to.

For Bakugou, the world seemed to narrow down to just you. He hadn’t expected to turn around and see a face that felt so… familiar, yet completely new. Your eyes caught his first, and they were softer than he’d imagined, but there was a brightness in them that intrigued him. He noticed the way your hair framed your face, accentuating the delicate lines of your features. But what struck him most was the expression you wore—equal parts surprise and determination, as if you hadn’t planned on this moment but weren’t going to run from it either. There was something about you that pulled him in, a magnetism he hadn’t felt in a long time, and it made him forget for a moment where he was.

Neither of you said a word, but the silence between you was charged with something unspoken. You felt your breath catch as you realized he was doing the same thing you were—taking in every detail, committing it to memory. It was strange, surreal even, to see the man who had been on the other side of the glass, to see him so close. His intensity was almost overwhelming, and you couldn’t help but feel a shiver of anticipation, or maybe it was nerves, running down your spine.

You both seemed to realize at the same moment that you were staring, and you quickly averted your eyes, a faint blush creeping up your cheeks. He let out a small huff, not quite a laugh, but close enough, and it drew your gaze back to him. There was a look of curiosity in his eyes now, as if he was trying to figure you out, and maybe himself too.

“Well, goodnight.”

“Yeah, G’night.”

You turned to head back to Micheal letting out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding in. As you walked, you couldn’t help but replay the encounter in your mind, trying to make sense of it.

Later that night, you couldn’t stop thinking about that moment. You were sitting in front of the mirror, wiping off the remnants of your makeup, but your mind was elsewhere. His face, his eyes, the way he looked at you—it all replayed in your head like a loop you couldn’t turn off. You’d seen plenty of clients before, even locked eyes with a few, but this was different. There was something in the way he looked at you, a connection that felt almost tangible, and it left you feeling unsettled in a way you couldn’t quite explain.

You sighed, tossing the makeup wipe into the trash and leaning back in your chair. 'Why did he leave such an impression?' You tried to push the thoughts away, tried to focus on the money you’d made, the success of the night. You even participated in a dance number with the girls and finally had enough to get that new apartment! But his face kept creeping back into your thoughts, making you wonder if you’d see him again, and what it would mean if you did.

At the same time, Bakugou was sprawled out on his bed, one arm thrown over his eyes as he tried to sleep, but he knew it was impossible. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw you. Your face, the way you looked at him, the intensity of it—it was all too vivid. He’d gone to the club looking for a distraction, something to take his mind off the usual, but instead, he found himself thinking about you.

It pissed him off, if he was being honest.

He wasn’t supposed to see you yet. Looking all soft and cute with your little dress hugging you and a blush he couldn’t decipher from makeup or actual nerves. A moment like that, the memory of you stuck with him, lingering like an itch he couldn’t scratch. The way your eyes had widened slightly when you saw him, the way you hadn’t backed down, it made him wonder who you really were. You were just doing your job, a dancer, nothing more—so why the hell couldn’t he shake you off?

He shifted on the bed, letting out a frustrated breath. Maybe it was nothing, just a fluke, something that would fade by morning. But deep down, he wasn’t so sure. You’d made an impression, and it was going to take a lot more than a sleepless night to get you out of his head.

But Katsuki knew himself better than that.

Pulling out his phone, he opened that damned app again and sent you a message.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Taglist: @elarakive, @thealtofvalleyxdoodles, If you wanna be added lemme know.

That was the first chapter! So far there are 9 posted on my ao3 account.

I own none of the images or art!!!

Be sure to check out my other works and leave likes and comments, they really help. I have a Farmer Bakugou x Gardener Reader here in the master list. Drop a follow as well if you please. Don’t be shy to leave me a little reblog if you want.

I promise I bite~

See you soon my loves!!

(｡･ω･｡)ﾉ♡

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letsgoletsgetit08 · 1 month ago

Text

home for the holidaze

summary: Seonghwa promised Yunho he wouldn't sleep with his half-brother, Hongjoong, while he is in town for an extended holiday sabbatical. He quickly realizes how idiotic of a promise it was to make.

warnings: mdni, dom!hongjoong x sub!seonghwa, recreational drug use

word count: 10,706

ao3 link: home for the holidaze

“Just whatever you do, please don't sleep with my brother.” Yunho warned Seonghwa with a serious expression. Seonghwa rolled his eyes. He remembered Hongjoong from growing up in the same neighborhood as the two of them. Though Hongjoong was closer to Seonghwa's age, he had ended up befriending Yunho instead. Hongjoong had been sent to an elite private boarding school across the country and they barely saw him except at holidays. He was shorter than his little brother (they had different moms) and Seonghwa always recalled him as being rather stuffy, uptight, very serious about doing his assigned reading over holiday breaks, where Yunho and Seonghwa were more inclined to sneak off to smoke weed at the playground.

Seonghwa was only half listening, very focused on Animal Crossing, “Yeah, I get it, no offense but I'm really not interested. He is way too uptight for me.”

Yunho sighed, seeming relieved, “Okay,” he turned towards the door, “Okay. Cool. I'm gonna go get him from the airport, then. You still down to meet up later for dinner?”

“Sure, just send me the location and a time.” Seonghwa said a little dismissively.

“Sweet!” Yunho walked through the door, calling out over his shoulder, “Later!”

Seonghwa had virtual trees to shake and rooms to design. It was his day off and he planned to take advantage of it fully by getting stoned and playing Animal Crossing until his eyes were the things crossing instead. Then he would probably re-watch Empire Strikes Back for the hundredth time. He had been a little reclusive lately. His breakup with Yeji was affecting him more than he'd like to admit. He knew Yunho had noticed and had tried to help. He also knew that six months should have been enough time to get over a relationship half that length. But he was really struggling with the part where he was the one rejected. Not to brag or anything, but he had always been the rejector, never the rejectee. It certainly had given him empathy to those he had broken up with in the past. This sucked. And the guilt of that realization - how he now understood how those he had broken up with had felt - also wasn't helping. He wanted to, was finally ready to break out of his funk. At least mentally. But it was like his body wasn't ready to listen yet. He would stare and stare at the dust bunnies on his floor and get so icked out by them that he felt almost angry. But he still couldn't convince his body to get up and vacuum. He was a very tidy person so it made things like that even more frustrating. A layer of dust on the coffee table was holding his attention more than the credits rolling on his movie, his phone lighting up with a notification was the only thing that shook him out of his stupor.

Yucifer

Joongie picked that ramen restaurant we used to like downtown. See you there in 30?

Alrighty

Sweatpants had felt like a completely reasonable option for one of their favorite old haunts. That was, until he saw Hongjoong. Looking very put together for someone who just spent nearly ten hours on a plane. Dressed in slacks, an expensive looking sweater, and designer loafers. Intellectual property law was a lucrative career, evidently. What was more surprising was that he looked so stylish. Growing up, he had stuck to polo shirts and khakis with ugly dress shoes that looked like they belonged to someone forty years his senior who shopped exclusively at Walmart. Practical. Already a tiny adult by his early teenage years.

Seonghwa felt weirdly exposed in comparison, though he was just as clothed as his companions. He ran a hand through his hair as he approached the table, trying in vain to become a little more put together before he was spotted.

Too late.

“Park Seonghwa!” Hongjoong called, trying to catch his eye.

Seonghwa met his gaze sheepishly, feeling embarrassed to be under the spotlight, “Kim Hongjoong. Good to see you, man.”

Yunho scooted over in the booth so that Seonghwa could sit across from Hongjoong.

Hongjoong’s whole demeanor was different from Seonghwa's memory. Where he had once been full of nervous, high-strung energy, he was now calm, almost intense. Cool and confident.

It was… something.

If Hongjoong noticed that Seonghwa was currently clawing his way out of a deep depressive cycle, he didn't let on. Seonghwa felt like he was being studied, but not in a bad way. Just maybe in a way that made him nervous that he would break his promise to Yunho.

Hongjoong was the first thing that had truly piqued his interest in half a year. And he had agreed not to sleep with him. Because he was a fool, probably.

“When do you go back to Sydney?” The question rushed out of Seonghwa’s mouth before he could stop it, realizing it probably sounded rude.

Hongjoong laughed, “Ready to get rid of me already?”

Seonghwa blushed, “No, no. Sorry. I realize how that sounded. I'm happy you're here. Staying with us.” His gut twisted at the last part. Hongjoong. Staying into their guest bedroom. Their rooms were jack-and-jill, connected by a shared bathroom.

“I'll be here at least through New Years. I'm taking an extended vacation.”

Fuck. It was October 3rd. Three months.

Maybe Hongjoong was straight. Maybe it wouldn't be an issue.

It was an issue.

Hongjoong seemed to be hell-bent on trying to not-so-subtly flirt with Seonghwa all night.

“Yeah, work has been hard.” Hongjoong’s foot was out of his loafer, tracing up Seonghwa’s ankle, “My days are long.” A wink that Yunho had conveniently missed.

He was sure Hongjoong would have stopped if Seonghwa had given any indication he wasn't into it. Unfortunately, he was very into it. His breathing became hard to regulate, cheeks flushing, both things easy enough to place blame upon the alcohol they were drinking over the appropriate place for blame - Hongjoong's foot working its way further up his leg. When it reached the junction of his inner thigh, Seonghwa stood up abruptly, mumbling a mostly coherent excuse about needing the bathroom.

Once in there, he splashed his face with cold water, trying to get it together. He took a few steadying breaths and washed his hands before heading back out, trying to keep Yunho's voice in his head, asking him to not sleep with his brother. He hadn't expected wanting to so badly when he agreed without second thought earlier. How was he supposed to know Hongjoong had grown out of his awkward stuck-up goody two shoes phase and into… whatever the fuck he was now. Hot. Domineering. Interesting. Confident but not cocky. Did he mention hot? So fucking hot.

“Everything okay?” Hongjoong asked, eyebrow cocked, sly smile tugging at one corner of his mouth.

“Oh, uh.” Seonghwa sat down, crossed his legs, gave Hongjoong a look he hoped conveyed that they should cool it for now, “Yeah, all good.”

“Perfect.” Hongjoong said, “I already took care of the bill. You guys ready to head out?”

“You didn't have to do that, Joong.” Yunho told him.

“I know,” Hongjoong looked at Seonghwa when he spoke next, “but I wanted to.”

Seonghwa wished he had an excuse to not ride back with the two of them, but he had taken the train there and there was no reason to not let Yunho drive him when they were all going to the same place. Hongjoong rode up front, which Seonghwa was grateful for. Though under different (read: literally any other) circumstances, he would have been happy for the man to ride in the back with him. In his lap. Fingers in his mouth, even.

His mouth watered at the thought of it.

It was going to be a long fucking three months.

Once back at their apartment, Seonghwa and Yunho helped Hongjoong carry his belongings from the car into the guest bedroom, the man in question thanking them before saying he was going to go ahead and turn in for the night, citing jet lag as his excuse.

Seonghwa didn't expect to see him again, and he also wasn't used to sharing his bathroom, so he was quite startled when he opened the unlocked door to reveal a shirtless Hongjoong brushing his teeth at the sink closest to his respective room. He was in thin light blue sleep pants, but his tattoos were the most surprising thing. His half sleeve had been hidden by his sweater earlier, but the design was bold and beautiful, just like its owner.

Seonghwa was probably gaping at him for too long before he shook out of it, “Shit! Sorry. Not used to someone being in here. I can just-”

Hongjoong stared at him as he leaned down to spit in the sink, breaking eye contact at the very last second, taking his time finishing up before finally wiping his mouth and turning towards the guest room, his bedroom (Seonghwa would have to get used to thinking of it as that), calling a very nonchalant, “All yours,” over his shoulder as he exited.

All of that lead up for… nothing?

What sort of mind games was he playing?

Hands suddenly landing on his waist startled the hell out of Seonghwa as he fixed himself an omelet the next morning, nearly causing him to flop his breakfast onto the burner.

“Smells good,” Hongjoong whispered into his ear.

Yunho was already at work. Seonghwa was closing at the bar that night so he had most of the day free. He had gotten up early after a fitful sleep, and began finally cleaning like he had been trying to force himself to do for a month now. It felt good.

“Want one?” He tried not to let on what Hongjoong’s touch was doing to his brain. He was probably failing miserably, “I'll make a second one. I don't mind.”

“Mmh, how very domestic of you, dear.” Hongjoong all but growled in his ear.

Jesus. The butterflies’ wings caught on fire in his abdomen. He subconsciously leaned back into Hongjoong's embrace, pliant in his hands.

“Do you still take your coffee with half and half?” He managed to get out through shaking breaths.

“What a good memory you have.” Hongjoong whispered, lips ghosting down his neck, not actually making contact, only teasing, making him shiver. His presence was gone as soon as it had come, leaving Seonghwa feeling almost crazy for thinking it had happened in the first place.

He finished preparing both omelets and fixed their coffees, setting all of them on their little dining table. Hongjoong chose to sit directly across from him, making sure Seonghwa could watch him enjoy the food he had prepared.

Hongjoong didn't make any more moves though, and after they were finished, he cleared the table before Seonghwa could protest, thanking him for breakfast, practically dismissing him.

“I hope I won't bother you by cleaning. I go into work around 3pm so I won't be a nuisance for too long.” Seonghwa didn't know why he was telling him his plans for the day.

“No bother at all.” Hongjoong spoke to him while washing the dishes but didn't look up, “Where do you work?”

“Oh. Um. It's a bar called The Bar is Low. Near uptown. It's not really a gay bar but I guess we attract a certain clientele.” He was rambling.

“Yes, I can imagine you attract a certain clientele.” Hongjoong said it like he was implying the customers were there for Seonghwa alone.

“Well. Joke is on them because I'm not interested.” Seonghwa answered dryly.

“No? You're not gay?” Hongjoong asked.

“Ha! No, no. I'm definitely bi. I'm just not interested in dating anyone right now. Haven't been for almost six months now.”

“Bad breakup?”

Seonghwa felt tears well up behind his eyes, which pissed him off. He thought he was done crying about it by now. He answered, hoping his voice didn't sound too thick with the looming tears, “Yeah. Not been the best year for me.”

“Mmh. Well. You deserve to be with someone who sees your value, Seonghwa.” Hongjoong said it so casually, glancing over his shoulder as he did.

Seonghwa picked nonexistent lint off of his t-shirt rather than make eye contact, mumbled a “Thank you,” under his breath, trying to swallow the tears down.

Hongjoong was too damn astute, though.

“Hey, whoa, I'm sorry,” he dried his hands in a hurry, now finished with the dishes, “Come here.” He rushed over, pulling Seonghwa in for a hug. Seonghwa began sobbing embarrassingly hard, soaking Hongjoong’s shirt, choking out apologies, “God, I'm sorry, I haven't cried about it in weeks. Fuck.”

“Shh,” Hongjoong rubbed soothing circles on his back, “Don't apologize for having feelings, honey. You're okay.”

“Sorry.” Seonghwa repeated himself despite the instructions he had just gotten, pulling away from the hug.

Hongjoong reached up to wipe his face dry with a gentle thumb, repeating himself, “You're okay. Hey, look at me.”

Seonghwa obeyed, finding the other's eyes to be softer than he'd seen them so far.

“I'm sorry if I've made you uncomfortable. I didn't know about the breakup.” Hongjoong offered, hand still on Seonghwa’s cheek.

“Oh,” Seonghwa swallowed, “No. Um. I don't mind.” He thought he was probably blushing profusely, using every brain cell he had left to keep his eyes locked with Hongjoong's, “I like the attention.” He admitted, so quietly he barely heard it himself.

“Noted.” Hongjoong’s thumb traced his jawline, “You’re in control here, Hwa. I want you to know that. Just say the word. Either way. And I'll stop. Slow down. Or… I'll start in earnest. But it's up to you how this goes, darling.”

“I'll keep that in mind.” Seonghwa managed to choke out, suddenly very aware of how close they were standing. Too bad he was still chicken shit scared, “Um. I'm gonna. Go. Uh. Clean. Sorry about your shirt.”

Hongjoong chuckled, “Stop apologizing. I'll see you later.” He stepped back, leaving Seonghwa room to step away and head towards his room.

And he did clean. As soon as he got off to the thought of Hongjoong, fingers stuffed in his mouth and music blaring to muffle the noises. Maybe he left the bathroom door connected to his room open just a tiny crack, though. Maybe he hoped Hongjoong had caught a glimpse.

“Need a re-make for table eleven on the fly, please!” Wooyoung’s voice broke through Seonghwa’s thoughts. He had been drying the same glass for who knows how long, lost deep in thought about a certain new roommate of his.

“Hwa!” Wooyoung pleaded from the expo area.

“Sorry!” Seonghwa strided over, “What’s wrong with these?” The martinis looked perfectly fine to him.

“They swear those are gin. They ordered vodka.” Wooyoung explained.

Seonghwa grabbed a cocktail straw and dipped it into one of the martinis in front of him, stoppering the end with his thumb and dropping the liquid into his mouth.

“Oh. Yeah. That’s gin. In my defense, vodka martinis should be criminal.” He said as he began shoveling ice and pouring water into two clean martini glasses to chill them before making the drinks.

“I like vodka martinis.” Wooyoung defended himself. “Bone dry and slutty filthy dirty.”

Seonghwa scrunched his nose in disgust, “You just like olive juice. And this is why they only let people with good palates be bartenders.”

Wooyoung brushed his split-dyed hair out of his eyes, pouting, “I have a good palate! It’s just different. And you got this job because the manager said he was afraid you’d kill him if he didn’t let you bartend!”

“And I might have! Fuck waiting tables. Bartender privilege is amazing in comparison.”

“Who was going to kill me?” A deep voice rounded the corner of the kitchen into the bar.

“He was, Yeosang! Not me. I’d never. You’re too pretty.” Wooyoung batted his lashes at his work crush.

Yeosang blushed, trying to contain his smile, his face turning pink to match the birthmark by his eye. He tied his neon green hair back into a half-up, purposely avoiding Wooyoung’s gaze, “You really shouldn’t flirt with your manager, Wooyo.”

Wooyoung landed a firm smack on Yeosang’s ass as he passed by, before placing the correctly made martinis on his tray and sauntering away.

They thought no one knew they had been sleeping together. They were stupid. And horrible at hiding it.

Wooyoung reappeared a few minutes later, “So what’s got your brain on a different planet tonight?” He asked, leaning across the bar, nosy as ever.

“Yunho’s brother is in town. For like three months” He said, not intending to elaborate, but knowing Wooyoung would pry until he got it out of him anyway.

“The stick-in-the-mud twink attorney?”

“The very one.” Seonghwa sighed, resuming his task of drying dishes. It was slow that night. He had mainly been doing side work, not so much actually making drinks.

“What, is he secretly hot or something?” Wooyoung was stabbing cocktail cherries onto a sword-shaped toothpick.

“Very astute.” Seonghwa placed the cherries down on the rail below the bar back where they belonged before resuming his task.

Wooyoung ate the cherries on his toothpick and leaned over the bar to retrieve the jar, “Why is that a problem?”

“Because,” Seonghwa swatted Wooyoung’s hand away, “Hey! Enough with the cherries. Because Yunho specifically made me promise not to sleep with him!”

Wooyoung waited until his back was turned to snatch the jar, hiding it under the bar this time as he fished more cherries out, “So? Just do it anyway. That’s what I would do. Isn’t he just visiting? Do it and ask for forgiveness later.” He tried to put the jar back before Seonghwa noticed.

“Did you just-?”

“No? Just what?” Wooyoung said around a mouthful of cherries.

“You’re such a little brat.” Seonghwa rolled his eyes. Really, he was quite fond of his coworker. He made it nearly impossible not to like him.

“You love me.” Wooyoung trotted away to clear the only table they had had in over an hour. Tuesday nights were like this. Yeosang would probably cut him soon and take over bartending for the rest of the night to save on labor costs. And so he could close with Wooyoung and make out in the back. Whatever. Saturday nights always made up for a whole slow week.

Seonghwa picked up takeout on his way home and had just sat down at the kitchen table to eat it when his phone lit up with a notification.

Yucifer

Crashing at Mingi’s tonight. Just a head’s up. Feel free to toss my laundry on my bed if you need the dryer.

Thanks man, later.

He tucked into his food, trying to not let his mind spiral at the thought of being home alone with Hongjoong that night. A few minutes later, his phone lit up again

[Unsaved Number]

Looks like it’s just us tonight.

Hongjoong?

[Unsaved Number]

The one and only

Wanna get stoned and watch a movie

Kim Hongjoong does illicit substances now? Since when?

Evil Man

Shut up. And Hurry up. Shower and brush your teeth and meet me on the couch in 30

Heat coiled in Seonghwa’s gut. He hated how much he liked how bossy Hongjoong was acting.

Aye, aye, captain

Evil Man

Nevermind I decided I hate you

Wait, no, come back. What about “yes, sir”?

Evil Man

Much better.

Yes, sir

Evil Man

Mmh, I could get used to that

Seonghwa didn’t necessarily think Wooyoung gave out the best advice. But after the year he’d had so far, he decided to throw caution to the wind. Two fingers deep inside of himself in the shower, thinking of Hongjoong’s instructions the whole time, he was more sure of his decision than ever. He had never ever broken a promise to Yunho. Sure, he felt a little bad about it, but Yunho would have to understand that he hadn’t felt so alive in months. He needed this.

He sat staring at his collection of sex toys in his bedside table drawer for too long, wasting time, risking being late, before finally selecting his favorite butt plug, guiding it inside with practiced ease. Another risk, but screw it.

He finally emerged from his bedroom dressed in the shortest silk sleep shorts he owned. Light silver. A matching silk babydoll shirt, trimmed with black lace, on top, hair wavy and messy after his shower. The outfit was probably too much. Yeji had had a habit of making him feel weird about his good looks, not on purpose, he was sure, but in a way that read as her being intimidated and wanting to be the “pretty” one in the relationship. But he liked feeling pretty. He wanted to be told he was pretty, but he felt silly asking for it. So he felt a little embarrassed as he walked (slightly awkwardly) out of his room into the living room.

All of his fears were quickly erased at the look on Hongjoong’s face as he emerged. He was wearing the same light blue pants from last night, dark hair swept off of his forehead, the planes of his chest visible through his thin black t-shirt.

“Oh, darling. Look at you. All of this for me?” Hongjoong asked, beckoning him over, patting his lap.

Seonghwa nodded as he straddled his lap gingerly, trying his best to avoid jostling around too much or else the plug would be uncomfortable.

“Use your words, sweetheart.” Hongjoong instructed, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear.

“Yes, sir. All for you.” Seonghwa replied, his voice low, a little raspy from his nerves.

“Lucky me.” Hongjoong whispered, hands roaming Seonghwa’s body, thumb grazing his nipple on its way down, making Seonghwa’s breath catch in his throat, before landing on his hip, which he gave a small squeeze, “You’re exquisite, angel.” His hand continued down, landing on Seonghwa’s ass cheek, fingertips pulling him apart ever so slightly. Seonghwa squeaked out a tiny moan at the sensation, senses heightened with the object he was playing host to.

“I got myself ready for you in the shower.” He admitted, forehead tipping down to Hongjoong’s as the man kneaded the soft flesh underneath his hand.

“Trying to be teacher’s pet are we?” Hongjoong teased as his hand found its way under the silky fabric of Seonghwa’s shorts, fingers dipping in the soft crevice before they discovered the exposed part of the plug, “Oh. Well, look at you. A little presumptuous, no?”

“Sorry.” Heat flooded Seonghwa’s cheeks, the embarrassment suddenly almost overwhelming, tears threatening to build in his eyes.

“No, no, no,” Hongjoong tilted his chin up with his other hand, “Uh-uh. I love it. Don’t get in your own head. I’m thrilled you picked up on my lead and even more so that you’re here, presenting yourself to me like this. It’s so hot, baby. I promise. I won’t tease so much, I’m sorry.”

“‘S okay.” Seonghwa murmured, still recovering.

“We can stop any time, promise.” Hongjoong kissed his cheek to seal the contract.

“I don’t want to stop. I just feel a little bad because I promised Yunho I wouldn’t do this.”

“Do what? Sleep with me?” Hongjoong asked, petting Seonghwa’s hair.

“Mhm.”

“Oh, baby. He has been talking you up to me for months now. He didn’t explicitly mention the breakup, but I figured it was something like that.” Hongjoong laughed, “He probably told you that so this would feel forbidden or something. I get the feeling you like to do the opposite of what you’re told, typically. When you’re feeling more like yourself, no? I mean does he have a habit of crashing at Mingi’s? My guess is he thinks this will help you get over your ex. He’s a schemer like that.”

Oh. OH.

“Well. I feel stupid.”

“No, sweetheart, don’t.” Hongjoong pulled him to his chest, kissed the top of his head, “You’re not stupid, you’re a good friend. You’re just out of sorts. And that’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you, I just want to make you feel good. You deserve to feel good, Seonghwa. Will you let me?”

Seonghwa steeled himself, sitting up to look at Hongjoong, “Yes. Please. I want that so bad.”

Hongjoong smiled, his eyes beginning to turn back to their original dark, lustful state, “Good. I’m glad. Because you look good enough to eat right now and I might go crazy if I can’t have you.”

Blood rushed south at his words, suddenly nothing felt nearly as important as pleasing the man underneath him, “You can have me. Please have me.” He pleaded, hips swiveling into Hongjoong’s at the thought of it.

“Oh, I plan on it.” Hongjoong’s hand returned to grab his ass, guiding him to grind down again, “I’m going to take you apart piece by piece and put you back together again so that the only word you can remember how to say is my name.”

Fuck.

“Yes, please. I want that, Hongjoong.” Seonghwa all but begged, continuing to move his hips as the other guided them, their quickly hardening cocks rolling together tantalizingly.

“Come here, then, pretty.” Hongjoong whispered, finally pulling him in for a kiss.

Seonghwa felt his brain go fuzzy. The kiss was deliberate, measured. He wasn't going to give Seonghwa too much at once, preferring to take his time, draw it out. Seonghwa was more accustomed to heated, passionate sex. Clothes ripped off in a whirlwind. Rushing towards the finish line without taking in the scenery.

Seonghwa tried to lean in more to deepen the kiss but Hongjoong pushed him back gently, “No, baby. Let me. You just let me take care of you. Can you be good for me?”

Seonghwa wanted him so bad, could have taken him in one go right there, easily. But he was very interested in letting him lead, “Okay, yes.” He sighed, “Yes, sir.” He corrected himself.

“Good boy,” Hongjoong stroked his hair, “So good for me.”

Seonghwa preened at the praise, leaning into the other's hand.

Hongjoong reached for something on the table beside the couch, producing a small, light blue intricate weed pipe, already packed and ready to go, as well as a gold zippo, engraved with his initials, “Still wanna smoke?”

“Sure, if you do.” Seonghwa offered.

“I do. I want to shotgun with you.”

“Look at you, Kim Hongjoong! Full of surprises.” Seonghwa teased him.

Hongjoong’s face turned devious, “I'm not the one who is about to be full of something, jagi.” He trailed his hand down Seonghwa's face, thumb tracing over his bottom lip before using both hands to take the first hit from the pipe. Once he freed one hand again, he reached up and pressed at the spot where Seonghwa’s jaw hinged, asking him to open up. He obliged and let his face be pulled towards Hongjoong's, lips so close they were almost touching. He took the hit, inhaling greedily like it was oxygen.

“Your turn, love.” Hongjoong handed Seonghwa the pipe as he exhaled.

Seonghwa took his hit and leaned in to pass it along to Hongjoong. Time passed slowly as the high began to hit and he exhaled into Hongjoon's mouth. The latter barely let him fully release the hit before he was crashing their lips together, this time with more need, fervently. Seonghwa blindly placed the pipe down on the table beside them, not caring much how it landed. Nothing else was important right now.

He felt Hongjoong’s fingers latch into his hair, tugging it slightly as he turned his head to the side, tongue teasing the seam of his lips before finally probing inside, eliciting an embarrassingly needy whine from somewhere deep inside Seonghwa’s chest. Seonghwa's tongue sparred with Hongjoong's until the latter caught it and sucked on it, nearly sending Seonghwa into a dizzy spiral of pleasure.

Hongjoong pulled back abruptly, “Bed. Now.” He commanded. Seonghwa got up, his thighs shaky from straddling Hongjoong for who knows how long.

“Mine or yours?” Seonghwa asked as he grabbed Hongjoong'a hand, leading them towards their connected bedrooms.

“Yours, gorgeous. I'm not even unpacked yet.”

“Yes, sir.” Seonghwa simpered, loving being bossed around.

“Kneel on the bed for me, darling.” Hongjoong instructed.

Seonghwa did as he was told, hands in his lap, ass resting on his heels.

He watched as Hongjoong stripped in front of him, maintaining eye contact as much as was possible, leaving his crisp linen boxers for last, peeling them off slowly, releasing his fully-hard cock. It was lovely, not braggadociously large but well-proportioned, nicely formed, and flushed pretty pink. Seonghwa was apparently staring at it with stars in his eyes.

“Like what you see?” Hongjoong asked as he stroked himself, walking towards the bed.

“Yes, sir. Want you in my mouth. Can I? Please?” Seonghwa asked, peering up at him through his thick eyelashes.

Hongjoong smiled, “Well, since you asked so nicely…”

He climbed up onto the bed in front of Seonghwa, kneeling but raised up so his cock was level with Seonghwa’s eager mouth.

“You can pull my hair.” Seonghwa offered as he took Hongjoong’s length into his hand, “I like to know if I'm doing well.”

“I'll be sure you know how well you're doing, beautiful.” Hongjoong smiled as he stroked Seonghwa’s hair.

Seonghwa licked his lips, glad the weed hadn't hit so hard to have given him dry mouth, and began licking the tender underside of Hongjoong’s tip before working it inside genuinely.

Hongjoong moaned as Seonghwa sucked him in, hollowing out his cheeks, hitting his soft palate. He felt his hair be tugged on, “God, yes, baby. Just like that.” Hongjoong praised from above.

Seonghwa hummed at the praise, setting a pace, bobbing his head and working his tongue in time with the strokes. He could feel Hongjoong's hips stuttering, trying not to fuck his face, getting close to his release. Suddenly, Hongjoong pulled on his hair, backing up a little, “You're going to make me cum like that, baby.” His hand caressed his cheek, “And as much as I'd like that, I really want to cum inside you.”

“Yes. God. I want that.” Seonghwa stared up at him knowing he probably already looked fucked out with flushed cheeks and swollen lips.

Hongjoong chuckled, “Mmh so eager. You're dangerous, little bunny.”

Seonghwa let himself be pushed back onto the mattress, “Dangerous?”

“Very. You're going to have me tempted to keep you.” Hongjoong's hands grabbed Seonghwa’s wrists, pinned them up by his head as he leaned down to kiss him once more, caging him in, not allowing a reply. He came up for air and dismounted, following a hunch for supplies, looking towards Seonghwa as his hand landed on the drawer pull of his bedside table. Seonghwa nodded, confirming the location of the lube and condoms. Hongjoong gathered them and placed them within reach on the bed beside Seonghwa before climbing back in, kneeling between his parted legs.

Seonghwa gasped as Hongjoong dove in, kissing his neck, making his way down to his chest where he mouthed and licked at his still-covered nipples, the friction of the now-damp fabric driving him insane. His top was gathered up by practiced hands, torso bared for further exploration. Hongjoong's breath was warm as he kissed down his happy trail before coming up long enough to peel his tiny shorts off, tossing them to the side before resuming his kisses, landing everywhere except for his painfully hard, leaking cock.

“Mmh, look at you.” Hongjoong cooed, “You're so stunning, Seonghwa.”

“Thank you.” Seonghwa gasped, his breath catching as Hongjoong's deft fingers found his plug once again, grasping the base and teasing it in and out with tiny movements that had Seonghwa’s back arching off the bed.

“Oh fuck, please.” Seonghwa begged, writhing on the bed at the sensation.

“Please, what, jagiya?” Hongjoong purred, obviously knowing exactly what he wanted, “Use your words, gorgeous.”

“Please, need you to fuck me, sir.”

Hongjoong took his time removing the plug, leaving Seonghwa clenching around nothing, feeling extremely empty.

“Well. Since you're begging so nice.” Hongjoong rolled on the condom like it was second nature, following it with plenty of lube.

Hongjoong grasped Seonghwa’s length in one hand, barely applying pressure, and teased everywhere except his eagerly awaiting ring of muscle with his own cock, guided by his other hand.

Seonghwa was sweating now, desperate in his anticipation, letting out a soft whine.

Hongjoong smiled knowingly down at him, “Shh, darling. I know. I don't mean to be cruel, you're just so lovely, all strung out for me. But I think you've earned this.”

Seonghwa thought he might have ascended to a different astral plane at the stretch of Hongjoong pushing inside. It was delectable. He had never felt so precious, so worshipped by anyone before. He took Hongjoong easily, adoring how perfectly full he felt once the man was buried deep inside of him.

“Fuck, baby. You feel amazing.” Hongjoong gasped, unable to help the movement of his hips as he began fucking Seonghwa in earnest.

“God, yes, right there, Joong.” Seonghwa gasped as Hongjoong found his prostate. “Not gonna last long like this.”

“Can you be a good boy and cum for me when I tell you to, baby?” Hongjoong asked, voice strained from the effort.

“Yes, sir. Please. Fuck.” Seonghwa mewled.

Hongjoong stroked him in time with his thrusts, his hips beginning to falter as he reached the edge of his own release, “Go ahead, darling. Show me how pretty you are when I make you cum.”

Seonghwa obeyed, panting out Hongjoong's name as he came all over his hand and his own chest.

“Fuck, yes. That's it, baby.” Hongjoong worked him through his aftershocks, before trying to pull out.

“No!” Seonghwa gasped, definitely overstimulated, but needing Hongjoong to follow through on his promise, “Inside! Please. I can take it.”

Hongjoong didn't reply, but his eyebrow furrowed as he accepted Seonghwa’s plea, fucking into him hard and fast before finally reaching his own orgasm, spilling into the condom with a shaky breath. He took his time pulling out, falling to the bed beside Seonghwa, gathering him to his chest and stroking his hair while praising him sweetly, “Thank you, baby. You were so good for me. Took me so well. So, so good.” Hongjoong kissed his head, squeezing him tight to make sure he knew he was cared for and appreciated.

Seonghwa felt tears escape, warm as they traveled down his cheeks, unable to hold them back. Hongjoong didn't even bat an eye, just coddled and comforted him, “Shh, jagi, it's okay. Let it out. You're okay. I've got you.”

“Sorry.” Seonghwa sniffled, “I don't know what's wrong with me.”

“Nothing is wrong with you.” Hongjoong tilted his head up to meet his eyes, “Hey. Nothing is wrong with you, baby. You're perfect. It's normal to react like this after sex like that. Especially if it was your first time in a while. Okay? Nothing is wrong with you, Seonghwa.” He kissed the tears off of his cheeks, “Absolutely nothing.”

Seonghwa managed to compose himself and Hongjoong started to sit up, but Seonghwa panicked, “Wait, where are you going? Please don't leave!”

Hongjoong smiled, smoothing his hair, “I'm not going anywhere, angel. I just wanted to go start us a shower. Okay? I can stay here for a little longer, too, if you want.”

“Just a few more minutes? Sorry. I'm a mess.”

“No, sweetheart. You're not. I'll stay as long as you need.”

A few minutes passed and Seonghwa finally convinced himself to let Hongjoong start the shower, soon returning to collect him from the bed. Hongjoong held him gently as he washed his body, fingers soft as they washed his hair. Seonghwa couldn’t help but feel sad, already mourning the fact that Hongjoong would be leaving in three months. What had once felt like an eternity now felt entirely too short.

“Joong?” He asked as the other was putting down the hairdryer.

“What's up?”

“I'm scared.”

“Of what, honey?” Hongjoong’s eyebrow furrowed once again.

“I'm scared I'll grow attached.” He took a shaky breath, “I'm scared I already have.”

Hongjoong smiled, a hint of sadness behind his eyes, “It's okay, Hwa. No one ever wants to keep me around for very long. I'm sure by the time I'm leaving you'll be glad for it.”

“Why do you say that?” Seonghwa asked, suddenly concerned.

“It's just never not been true.” Hongjoong shrugged.

“And what if I want to keep you?” Seonghwa asked timidly.

“Then we'll talk about it when we get there. If we get there.” Hongjoong answered simply.

“Will you stay with me tonight?” Seonghwa asked, reaching for the man’s hand, so delicate and pretty for someone so intense.

“Of course I will, Hwa.” Hongjoong promised, “Anything you want.”

Hongjoong fit so perfectly nestled in Seonghwa's arms that he knew as soon as the other fell asleep, he would never be able to bear letting him go. He couldn't stand the thought of him moving back to Australia. Unless he was going in his suitcase. It wasn't like he had a whole lot going on here. Was that crazy? Move halfway across the world to be with someone whom two days ago, he had sworn he would have no interest in sleeping with? He decided to let his subconscious mind work that one out, finally meeting the sweet embrace of sleep.

“Slut.” Something hit Seonghwa’s face. “Whore.” Again. “Harlot.” Yunho's voice. “Promise breaker.” He was throwing Cheerios at the two of them, still curled up in bed together. “Jezebel.”

“Fuck off, Yunho.” Seonghwa grumbled, seeking asylum under his comforter.

“No! You're the Skanky McBetrayerface!” Yunho whined, obviously joking, but still being a nuisance, just because he could.

“Yun.” Hongjoong sighed, “I told him you were scheming. Now please, fuck off. I'm trying to give your roommate some morning dick.”

“Ew.” Yunho's voice held genuine disgust, “Fine. But hey, Seonghwa. Don't say I didn't warn you when he drives you crazy in a few weeks!”

“Please fuck all the way off before I let your brother penetrate me in front of you!” Seonghwa called, already beginning to straddle Hongjoong from underneath the covers.

“Okay fine. You guys are mean.” Yunho stomped off dramatically, playing the part of youngest sibling remarkably well.

“Um actually, can I fuck you this time?” Seonghwa asked after removing his mouth from the pulse point under Hongjoong’s jaw.

“Oh, fuck yeah, by all means.”

Hongjoong was bouncing on his dick and Seonghwa felt amazing but the two of them kept bursting into fits of giggles as they were trying desperately to be quiet for Yunho's sake. Eventually, Seonghwa had to pull out and take him from behind so they could finish, seeing as every time they made eye contact, it devolved into laughter immediately.

It was proving quite handy for their bedrooms to share a bathroom.

As the weeks went on though, they pretty much only stayed in Seonghwa’s bed. Hongjoong unpacked very slowly, almost like he thought at any point he would be asked to leave.

The comment that both he and Yunho had made about getting sick of him kept rattling around in the back of his mind, making less and less sense as he got to know the man better.

Sure, Hongjoong liked knowing his whereabouts. He could see maybe how some people might find that to be overbearing or controlling. But in all honesty, Seonghwa liked it. He liked that someone cared enough to keep tabs on him like that. Hongjoong liked to read. A lot. He read non-fiction. Historical non-fiction. And the newspaper. He was very serious about the crosswords. He didn’t go out a whole lot. And sure, he was bad about spending his money on clothes rather than saving it. Seonghwa saw what could have been perceived as flaws, but to him, they were endearing. He was growing so incredibly fond. And the sex had only gotten better as time went on.

Hongjoong came by the bar for the first time on Halloween. He was picking Seonghwa up after work to go to the party his old friend from boarding school, Jongho, had invited him to. They were going dressed as sexy Lincoln and sexy John Wilkes Booth. It was stupid. But it was funny to them.

“Is that the hot brother?” Wooyoung asked as he waited at the bar for Seonghwa to prepare the drinks for his table.

“Who?” Seonghwa asked, not knowing Hongjoong was there yet, haven’t having had time to check his phone all night due to how busy they were.

“The Booth to your Lincoln over there at the end of the bar.”

Hongjoong was there looking handsome as ever, if not a little goofy, and nervous for some reason.

“Oh, Yeah. That is definitely him!” Seonghwa answered, sighing at how adorable he found the man.

“Okay, yeah. I get it. He’s hot.” Wooyoung leaned in, “Is he like crazy dominant in bed? Because he looks like he would cannibalize anyone who looked at you for too long.”

“I am not dignifying that with an answer.” Seonghwa rolled his eyes, “But. Um. Yeah. It’s kind of incredibly hot.”

“Oh, I get it. Yeosang is territorial, too. I think it’s probably not something everyone is into. Yeosang apologized for being that way a lot when we first started hooking up. But I kept reassuring him that I like it. It’s hot. It’s nice to feel wanted like that.” Wooyoung was staring off into space, obviously deep in thought about Yeosang.

“Hm. Yeah. That’s exactly it. Maybe that’s what they meant…”

“What who meant?” Wooyoung asked, curious as ever.

“Hongjoong and Yunho. They both said something to the effect of knowing that I would eventually get sick of Hongjoong. I think they were talking about him being possessive. But you’re right. I think it’s very, very attractive.” Seonghwa was actually getting a little hot and bothered just at the thought of it.

“Okay, ew. Stop drooling. Can you please leave now? I like watching Yeosang bartend and I can’t do that if you’re here. Plus you’ve already made beaucoup tips.” He shook their oversized tip jar. It was true. It was nearly brimming over with cash and he saw plenty of bigger bills in there.

“Slut.” He fished the cash out, “Okay byeeee!” He called after pocketing his tips and closing out his drawer, collecting Hongjoong on his way out.

Jongho’s place was super cool, modern and expensive, looking like somewhere a Bond villain might reside, and the man himself was a little cold at first but quickly warmed up to Seonghwa the longer they spent together. Everyone loved their outfits. One man, Jongho’s friend, San, really liked Abe Lincoln, apparently. He kept touching his costume and leaning in, clearly not one to hold his alcohol well. Seonghwa didn't think he was flirting, really, mostly because he had seen him interact with plenty of others the same way that night. He figured the man was just touchy and friendly. Hongjoong spotted them talking and came over to snake his arm around Seonghwa’s waist. “Hi, baby.” Hongjoong all but sneered at San as he spoke, “Making friends?” He asked before pulling Seonghwa in for a messy kiss. Once released, Seonghwa watched as the man’s cat-like features went through a series of emotions, from confusion to understanding to acceptance, walking away with a small wave.

“Sorry. I don’t know why I felt the need to do that.” Hongjoong said, shaking his head and stepping away from Seonghwa.

“What? It doesn’t bother me, Joongie.” Seonghwa offered, reaching for him again.

Hongjoong took another step away, “No. I need to stop. I’m sorry.” He turned on his heel and tried to walk away, but Seonghwa caught his arm.

“Hey, whoa. Can we go somewhere and talk about this, please?”

“I know we haven’t been here long but can we go home if we’re going to talk about it?” Hongjoong asked, looking up at Seonghwa apologetically.

“Yeah, sure, of course. Of course we can, baby.” Seonghwa reassured him.

Hongjoong stared out the window in the backseat of the Uber the whole drive back to their apartment. He let Seonghwa hold his hand, but that was about it. Seonghwa’s mind was racing the entire way there. When they finally got back, he suggested they get showered and changed and meet in the living room afterwards. Hongjoong nodded, still refusing to make eye contact. Seonghwa showered quickly and changed clothes before heading into the kitchen to put on some water to make tea. Two cups of lavender chamomile with honey. He didn’t know if Hongjoong liked tea, but the ritual of making it helped calm his nerves anyway. By the time he carried the tea cups over to the coffee table in the living room, Hongjoong was finally emerging, face pink from being scrubbed clean, hair still wet, wearing one of Seonghwa’s sweatshirts he had evidently left in his room, looking rather small and vulnerable in it, seeing as it was big on him.

“Come here,” Seonghwa offered, patting the couch beside him, “I made tea, does that sound good?”

Hongjoong sat down beside him on the couch, not touching him, but nodding at the offer of a hot beverage. Seonghwa handed him the mug carefully, warning that it was hot, trying to study his face, but remaining patient.

“Thank you,” Hongjoong said after taking a sip, “This is nice. I don’t know why you’re being so kind to me.”

“Hongjoong, no offense, but what the fuck are you talking about?” Seonghwa asked, genuinely confused.

“I…” Hongjoong finally met his eyes, looking completely distraught, “I don’t know where to start. I have some bad habits that I’m trying to break. But it’s hard. And I thought I was over them. Thought I could control them with you. Obviously I’m just as insane as I used to be.”

“First of all, you’re not insane. Second, can you elaborate? What habits?” Seonghwa dared to place a hand on the other’s knee to try to comfort him.

Hongjoong took a deep breath, “I had a bad breakup, too. A few years ago. He cheated on me, made me think it was my fault, somehow. I stayed in it way too long trying to be ‘better’, be who he needed me to be to stay happy. But that was never going to happen. I should have known. There was no pleasing him. He swore up and down that he had stopped seeing the other guy but I knew he was lying and I ended up following him to prove myself right. I should have just fucking let it go. But then I confirmed it. After that, the harder I tried to cling on to him, the more distant he got. I wish I would have had enough self respect to just leave, but I was so stubborn. Ever since then, I have been kinda paranoid in relationships. It’s not that I can’t trust, it’s just that everything kind of feels like a threat, I guess. So I like knowing where my partner is. I like everyone else knowing they’re mine. That kind of behavior is typically a turn-off to people. That’s what I meant when I said I would scare you off. And when those feelings came up tonight after seeing you talking to San… I don’t even have any claim to you, Seonghwa. And I still couldn’t hold it together. I’m so fucking frustrated with myself.” Tears streaked down his face at the last part.

Seonghwa carefully removed the tea cup out of his hands, placed it on the coffee table, and pulled the man into his lap. It was his turn to comfort.

“Oh, Joong. You’re okay, baby.” He stroked his hair, rubbed circles on his back, “Hey,” he leaned back slightly so he could look the other in the eye, “Look at me. No one I’ve ever been with has cared enough about me to ask my whereabouts. They parade me around because I’m a pretty object to be shown off. The possessiveness you’ve shown so far… I like it, Hongjoong. I was just talking to my co-worker about it at the bar when he saw you there, looking like you would happily murder anyone who dared to look at me for too long. Do I see how it could turn toxic? Sure, but I don’t think you’re toxic, Hongjoong. I think we both have some flaws. And I think we’re both adults who can work through them, if we want to. Personally, I want to. Have you balked at all any of the times I’ve been a hot mess after getting emotional? No. You’ve just helped me through it. And I would do the same for you, happily. As far as a ‘claim’ to me goes. Hongjoong. I want that. I know you thought you would scare me off but I knew after that first night, I want this with you. I know you have to go back to Australia and I honestly don’t know what it would look like, but I really, really want to try. I want to be yours, baby. Please. Let me.”

Hongjoong studied him for a moment like he thought he might burst out into laughter and yell ‘Sike!’ in his face or something. But of course, he didn’t. Seonghwa was dead serious.

“You want me to claim you?” He asked, finally, eyes now dry and turning dark with desire.

“Yes, baby. Please. Want everyone to know who I belong to.” Seonghwa felt heat stirring deep in his abdomen.

“So I can mark you?”

“Yes. God, yes. Anywhere you want.” Seonghwa’s hands trailed down Hongjoong’s flank, desperate to touch him.

“I’m going to make sure everyone knows who you belong to.” Hongjoong growled, pulling them both to their feet, abandoning their tea in favor of heading to Seonghwa’s bedroom.

Hongjoong had left marks all over Seonghwa’s neck and down his thighs as he opened him up.

“Are you clean? Can I take you raw? Please?” Seonghwa begged as Hongjoong reached for the condom.

“I am. Are you sure?”

“Yes. I said I wanted to be claimed. Want you to stuff me full, get me pregnant, baby. Wanna feel you leak out of me.” He was babbling, but he meant every word.

“Christ, Hwa.” Hongjoong grunted as he applied lube before pulling Seonghwa into his lap, guiding him down carefully onto his cock, chest to chest as they made love, Seonghwa’s own dick pinned between their torsos. They caught their release simultaneously, foreheads pressed together, panting versions of each other’s names.

They had to change the sheets after their shower.

Later, in bed together, Seonghwa tried to confess his feelings.

“Hongjoong?” He asked timidly from his spot on the man’s chest.

“Hm?”

“I think I’m falling in love with you.” He said it so quietly he was afraid Hongjoong hadn’t heard.

“Baby… you’re just feeling good from the sex. Tell me again in the morning if you still feel that way, okay? I don’t want you to say something you don’t mean. You still barely know me.”

“It doesn’t matter. I know how I feel.” He was feeling a little stubborn then, “I will tell you in the morning. Because I mean it.”

“Okay, darling. Get some sleep.” Hongjoong whispered, stroking his back in time with his breaths.

“G’night.” Seonghwa replied, brain already foggy, half asleep.

“Goodnight, my little bunny.” Hongjoong kissed the crown of his head.

Seonghwa woke up alone. He knew Hongjoong was gone. He could just feel it. The note on his bedside table only confirmed his fears.

Seonghwa,

I’m sorry. You deserve better than what I can offer. I’m sure you will hate me for this, but I promise you, it’s for the best. You should be with someone who isn’t an obsessed, paranoid, possessive asshole. I hope you know I cherished every moment we spent together. You’re really something special. You will heal and move on and be glad that you didn’t tie yourself to me. Promise. Take care of yourself.

-Hongjoong

Seonghwa called into work that night.

Then he called into work for the rest of the week, until Wooyoung became so concerned that he came by the apartment to make sure Seonghwa was alive. After explaining what happened, Wooyoung was uncharacteristically kind and attentive, nearly protective of him on their shifts together. It was nice. It made Seonghwa almost feel like a person again.

November came and passed and he was completely numb to all of it. All he did was sleep, work, and play Animal Crossing. Yunho felt bad, like it was his fault somehow. Tried to make it up to him in little ways. Made sure he was fed and watered. It wasn’t until after Thanksgiving that he forced him out of the house.

“We’re going to Mingi’s for a late Friendsgiving. Come on. Here,” Yunho tossed him a sweater and some jeans, “Boots and scarf, too, it’s going to snow. I’m not taking no for an answer. I’m serious, Hwa.” He stood in the doorway, ensuring Seonghwa actually got dressed.

He wouldn’t admit it, but it was nice to be around people. Wooyoung and Yeosang were friends with Mingi, apparently, and although he saw them several times per week, it was nice seeing them outside of that context, curled up together on the couch, able to be openly together outside of the bar. Mingi had pulled him into a big bear hug despite them not being very close, and it almost made him cry. He was a good hugger. And it was the first physical affection he’d had in a month. He was sure he looked rough, haggard, face gaunt, dark circles under his eyes. He hadn’t even been able to call it a breakup this time, but it felt like one. Worse than one.

But being here, with people who cared for him, and good food, sparkling wine, he began feeling some semblance of normality again. They were half an hour into a game of Catan when the doorbell rang, Mingi's black labrador retriever, Chicken, barked at the noise until Mingi opened the door to reveal Jongho and San. How they all knew each other, Seonghwa had no idea. But the two were holding hands and he realized just how silly Hongjoong had been at the party. Jongho seemed just as surprised to see him.

“Oh, hey. Nice to see you again.” He offered, shaking Seonghwa’s hand.

“You, too.” Seonghwa answered, not really knowing if it was truthful or not.

“You look almost as bad as Hongjoong has when he facetimes with me.” Jongho chuckled.

“Oh. You’ve talked to him?” He didn’t know why he was surprised. They were friends, afterall.

“I’ve definitely talked to him. Well, he does most of the talking. He’s being very stupid, though. I keep telling him he was wrong for what he did and he needs to get his shit together and apologize profusely. He has a job offer here, you know. He’s just getting in his own way. I get it, he’s scared. But I still stand by him being very, very stupid.”

“He what?” Seonghwa was confused.

“You didn’t know?” Jongho looked at him sympathetically, “Sorry. Yeah. My company offered him a job. It was part of the reason he came to town. He declined when he fled the scene, but they haven’t stopped pursuing him. He’s like prodogiously good at his job.”

“What the fuck.” Seonghwa felt even more betrayed than ever.

“Yeah. Like I said. Very stupid” Jongho patted his arm, trying to be comforting, but mostly failing.

Seonghwa snuck outside while everyone was distracted by the newcomers and made a phone call. He didn’t know if Hongjoong had him blocked or not because he hadn’t bothered to try to reach out, but he tried anyway. It rang five times before there was an answer.

“Hello?” Hongjoong’s voice sounded groggy but Seonghwa didn’t care enough to think about the time difference then. Fat snowflakes were falling on his face. He let them melt there, not bothering to wipe them away.

“Kim Hongjoong. You fucking coward. You have until New Years before I block you. I’m so fucking mad at you. Don’t make me fly to Sydney, you son of a bitch. Come home. Take the job. That’s a threat. Come home and beg me to take you back before I change my mind on giving you another chance. I want you, you stupid idiot. Grow up. Get it together. Hurry the fuck up and get here.”

“Seonghwa? I-”

“I said hurry the fuck up.” Seonghwa hung up the phone, feeling a little smug as he walked back inside.

It was a beautiful white Christmas morning. Clear and cold, almost two feet of snow on the ground. Seonghwa had spent the whole day before cleaning his depression nest, feeling very confident that Hongjoong would show up any day now. Seonghwa had laid in bed for a while that morning, reading, drinking coffee, and enjoying the sight of snow falling outside the window. There was a knock at his bedroom door. He padded over in his slippers and Christmas tree patterned flannel pajama set to open it.

Hongjoong stood in the doorway, holding a beautifully wrapped gift in his hand, snow-flecked beanie still on his head, nose pink from the cold.

“Oh, hi. Took you long enough.” Seonghwa tried to be stern but couldn't hold back his smile.

“You're happy to see me? You're something else, Park Seonghwa. You should be trying to throttle me right now.” Hongjoong said, a little sheepishly.

“I should, but I'd like to hear you out first. You're too pretty to die young.” Seonghwa moved out of the doorway so he could come inside.

“I, um. Made you something.” Hongjoong handed him the box as they sat side by side on Seonghwa’s bed, “It's not much. But I kinda learned how to crochet while I was gone.”

Seonghwa peeled the tape carefully, not wanting to waste the pretty paper. Inside was a box, which he opened to reveal a crocheted hat. It was soft and pink with floppy bunny ears on top. He loved it.

“For my bunny.” Hongjoong said, giggling as Seonghwa tried it on. It fit perfectly.

“Thank you, I love it, Hongjoong. But I hope you don't think this makes up for things.”

“No, no, no. God no. Definitely not.” Hongjoong was practically tripping over his words.

“Well. You're here. I'm all ears,” Seonghwa reached up to the bunny ears on his head, “Quite literally.”

Hongjoong took a steadying breath, “Seonghwa. I'm so fucking sorry. I thought I knew what was best for you. For us. I panicked. I know that you said we could work through it. But I got this notion that I needed to protect you from myself. I don't think I would have been so scared had I not liked you so much. Then you said you were in love with me and I started to spiral.” He reached for Seonghwa's hands, eyes pleading as he continued, “But Seonghwa. You were right. I'm such a coward. I never ever should have run away like that. The fact that you had to be the one to call me and snap me out of it makes me sick. I honestly can't believe you'd even consider giving me another chance. But I had to try. My time here was the highlight of my year. I'm-” His hand reached up to caress Seonghwa's cheek. Seonghwa let him, and he continued, “I'm in love with you. If you'll give me another chance, I intend to prove to you every single day just how true that is. I'll call right now and accept the job. I just want to treat you right. How you deserve. And you deserve the absolute best. I can't promise you that I'll be perfect, but I will promise to always do my best. If you need time to think about it-”

Seonghwa cut him off by kissing him. He didn't need to hear any more. He pulled back before it could get any more intense.

“Sorry. You made me wait almost two whole months to do that.” Seonghwa scolded him, mostly joking, “I don't need time, baby. I want you right now. I'm still so mad at you, but I know you'll make it right. I'm willing to trust you, Hongjoong. Because I'm very much in love with you, too. I want to hear about your stupid history books. I want to help you with your crosswords. I want you to keep tabs on me and I want everyone to know that I belong to you. And I want you to call and accept that job, but first I want to take you right here on this bed until you forget you ever left in the first place.”

“Get over here then.” Hongjoong instructed.

It was just like their first time, Seonghwa underneath Hongjoong, crying out as he neared his release, back arching off the bed as Hongjoong nailed his prostate over and over. He had insisted on keeping the bunny hat on.

“Come on, baby, go ahead. Let go for me, gorgeous.” Hongjoong instructed.

“Hongjoong!” Seonghwa cried out as he came.

Hongjoong worked him through it, following quickly behind, “Yes, there we go. Fuck. Seonghwa-” He finished inside, Seonghwa loving the feeling of the warmth spreading uncontained deep in his abdomen.

They lay panting together on Seonghwa’s bed, Hongjoong tracing patterns on his back as they recovered.

“What's with the bunny thing, anyway? I mean, I like it, I think it's really cute, actually, but it seems a little random.” Seonghwa inquired.

Hongjoong sat up slightly, “You don't remember?”

Seonghwa shook his head.

“It was the only time you and Yunho convinced me to go to the playground with you on winter break.” He chuckled as he recalled the memory, “I took one hit and was a giggling mess. You guys made fun of me relentlessly. Then we saw a squirrel chase a bunny off, away from his acorns, chattering at it aggressively. I looked at you and said ‘I'm the squirrel.’ You nodded and said, ‘I'm the bunny.’ And then this big golden retriever had gotten loose from his leash and chased them both off and we cracked up, agreeing that that was Yunho.”

“Oh my god, I do remember that! I can't believe I forgot!” Seonghwa sat up to kiss Hongjoong on the nose, “I also can't believe you remembered.”

“I've thought of you as a bunny ever since then.” Hongjoong admitted.

“That's stupid.” Seonghwa squeezed him closer, “And adorable. I love you.”

“I love you, my little bunny.”

New Years Eve was spent at Hongjoong’s new apartment, sort of a combined housewarming party. To everyone's surprise, Yunho and Mingi kissed as the clock struck twelve, far too passionately to just be friendly.

“Are you guys-?” Hongjoong asked them when they finally came up for air.

“Us?” Mingi asked, “Oh! Yeah. For a while now. We just weren't loud about it because of what you and Seonghwa were going through.”

“Huh.” Seonghwa and Hongjoong said in unison.

“Well, um, congrats!” Seonghwa raised his champagne glass.

“Cheers!” Yunho called, “To happy endings and new beginnings.”

“Cheers!” They echoed him.

Later that night, after exploring every viable surface from which to have sex upon in Hongjoong’s new apartment, they lay in bed together, both too excited to sleep yet.

“What do you think about adopting?” Seonghwa asked as he stroked Hongjoong’s back, who was curled into his chest.

“Like… a child?”

Seonghwa snickered at the obvious high pitched inflection his voice had taken as he asked the question, “No, silly. I was thinking a cat. Or maybe a rabbit.”

Hongjoong kissed his chest where he could reach, “A bunny for my bunny. I think that's a great idea.”

They adopted one the next day. Named her Squirrel because they were so funny. Funny, and very, very much in love.

#ateez #ateez smut #ateez seonghwa #ateez hongjoong #ateez yunho #ateez mingi #ateez san #ateez jongho #ateez wooyoung #ateez yeosang #matz #ateez matz #matz smut #emotional hurt/comfort

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