#Tower air coolers | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

imfoive · 1 month ago

Text

Loser Club

Jisung x Reader (fem.) Genre: High School au!/College au!, Best Friend! Jisung, Friends-to-Lovers, Love at First Sight, Romance, Angst, mutual pining Warnings: mentions of cursing, drinking, somewhat proofread WC: 9.7k A/N: I really thought I was gonna scrap this all those weeks ago, but finally the motivation struck and winter season really got me into completing it. I really hope you’ll like it as much as I enjoyed struggling with writing it 🫶 Feedback, Reblogs, Likes are greatly appreciated! Happy reading! ── MASTERLIST

──────────────────────── They say that watching the first snowfall of the year with the person you love, makes your love last forever.

A saying Han Jisung had heard on television the night before.

Just some random line from a drama his mother had been watching as he passed through the hall. Yet, for some reason, the words had lingered on his mind, and now, as he lay on the snow piled ground, they were still there, hovering through his thoughts.

The young boy stared up at the clear sky, watching the delicate snowflakes fall softly around him, his body pressed flush against the white sheets that covered the ground.

Although he wasn’t particularly attached to those words, and it wasn’t even the first snowfall of the year, Jisung found himself beginning to believe in them.

His wide eyes now focused on the girl who peered down at him, her figure bent in curiosity.

The shadow of her form that towered over him, shielded his gaze from the early morning sky, and Jisung could feel his heart hammering in his chest.

“Are you okay?” Her voice was soft, her breath puffing in the cold air as she spoke.

The slightly stunned boy gulped, slowly sitting up. His fingers crunched through the soft snow that had cushioned his fall.

He had slipped, embarrassingly so.

But he couldn’t tell her that. Instead, he gave a lie. A desperate attempt to sound cooler than “I fell on my ass.”

“Just taking in the morning sun.” He muttered, and instantly regretted it.

There was a pause. Jisung mentally cursed himself, while the girl blinked at him, processing his words.

Then, to his surprise, she smiled. A bright, toothy grin that made his heart skip a beat.

“Then, have you had your fill of the morning sun, or do you want to lay back down?” Her gaze drifted to the outline of his body still imprinted in the snow where he had fallen.

The question bewildered him even more, making him laugh, a gloved hand instinctively covering his mouth to stifle the sound. He shook his head.

The girl stuffed her hands deeper into the pockets of her jacket, her eyes glancing at the school uniform he wore, peeking out from his haphazardly zipped jacket. The same uniform she had on.

“Are you a freshman?” She asked, her voice still soft, still sweet.

Jisung found it beautiful.

He mentally chided himself again and cleared his throat.

“Yes. I’m-I’m Han Jisung.” He stammered, suddenly feeling shy.

Her smile widened.

“Nice to meet you, Jisung. I’m Y/N.” She took out a gloveless hand from her pocket, pointing toward the direction of their school.

“Also a freshman.”

Then her hand extended to him, hovering between them for a shake.

“Let’s be friends.”

Her words made his heart skip another beat. Jisung stared at her awaiting hand before he looked at her and nodded almost eagerly, a little too quick to shake her hand.

Her giggle rang out, and Jisung couldn’t help but stare at her, fascinated. Captivated.

There was another saying that suddenly flashed through his mind.

One he hadn’t believed in. One he hadn’t ever had the chance to experience.

Yet.

But today, he felt it. Right here, right now, on the first day of school.

Love at first sight.

It was an instantaneous friendship, one might say. After the entrance assembly, Jisung found himself in the same class as Y/N. His steps faltered as he entered their homeroom, spotting her already seated by the window. Her eyes lit up at the sight of him, and without hesitation, her hand shot up to wave, silently inviting him to sit next to her.

And he did.

It was the start of a friendship that, in time, Jisung would come to regret, slightly. Come to love, mostly.

They had stuck together through their freshman year, and now, as sophomores, they found themselves sitting next to each other again. Staring down at the club forms that needed to be filled out by the end of the day.

Jisung glanced over at Y/N, eyes tracing the contours of her concentrated expression, tucking back a strand of hair. A casual gesture that made his stomach flutter.

She finished scribbling something on her form, then looked up at him.

Caught off guard, he quickly blinked away, hoping she hadn’t noticed him staring.

“You’re joining too right?” She raised a brow, eyes shooting to his blank form.

The boy next to her narrowed his gaze, glancing at her scribbles, the terrible handwriting he had surprisingly mastered to read over the past year and half.

“Art?” He tilted his head, confused.

“You don’t have a single artistic bone in your body.” He chuckled, pencil tapping loudly at the word she had written.

A remark that made her scoff, shoving him with her elbow, his figure swaying in his seat as he stifled a laugh.

“So I’ll learn, stupid.” She muttered, then reached over to scribble something on his sheet before standing up to hand hers in.

Jisung leaned in to read what she had written and groaned.

Loser Club.

“Y/N!” He muttered under his breath, watching as she made a taunting face at him, sticking her tongue out.

Immediately erasing the words, he quickly jotted down “Art”, before hurriedly following behind her.

Art Club was exactly how Jisung had pictured it. He watched his best friend struggle to draw even a decent stick figure, groaning in frustration when she couldn’t even manage a straight line with the help of a ruler.

But here was where Jisung discovered his unexpected talent. That without too much effort, he was able to draw precise shapes, straight lines and nearly perfect circles with ease. It stunned him every time, his lips forming a surprised pout as he glanced from his flawless circle to Y/N, who clapped in approval.

So, when their art teacher suggested he might want to consider a career where he could put his skill to use, Jisung quickly searched online and decided, just like that, he wanted to be an architect.

It was an anticlimactic decision, made in an instant, leaving both Y/N and their art teacher blinking at him with dumbfounded expressions.

And like that sophomore year ended.

The break between the new school years seemed to have flown by almost. And now as the best friends started school yet again, some things seemed to have changed.

Y/N had grown even prettier over the summer. And even though he saw her almost every other day during the vacation, except for the last three weeks when he visited his grandmother before school started, Y/N seemed to have blossomed almost overnight.

Her eyes sparkled as she waved at him from the front gates of the school on the first day. That same feeling he’d had the first time they met. The first time she looked down at him in the snow, washed over him again, only this time with much more intensity. It sucker-punched him straight in the chest.

It was during junior year of high school that he realized. Maybe he had unknowingly joined that Loser Club.

Because that’s when he understood. Jisung was crushing on Y/N. His best friend.

The girl who knew everything about him.

The girl who he knew everything about.

And, more painfully, knew that she didn’t like him back.

The best friends were always stuck at the hip. Like glue to paper, like gum to the bottom of a shoe.

Their classmates and teachers were never surprised to see them partner up. Eye rolls followed whenever one mentioned the other, as if they’d ever forget to take their names together. They even applied to the same college.

Then one day, a classmate asked,

“Are you guys dating?”

Jisung stared at the taller boy, who wore glasses and tilted his head with a curious expression. They were seniors now, and Jisung wondered why this kid had decided to ask after all these years of them being inseparable.

But instead of answering, Jisung fell silent, his mind racing.

Should he tell the truth?

That he planned to confess before college started in the Fall.

That he wanted to be her boyfriend.

But the words wouldn’t come. The boy who asked groaned in frustration.

“Why aren’t you answering?”

Jisung opened his mouth, but ultimately fell silent.

“Why would you ask something stupid like that?”

Y/N’s voice cut through the tension, and Jisung flinched.

At the words that was worse than a rejection. Cutting deep.

Shattering the plans he’d built in his head. The imaginary dates, the dream of becoming a corny campus couple.

He thinned his lips into a smile as Y/N approached.

“Yeah. Can’t a guy and girl just be friends?” He tasted bitter with every word that came out of his mouth.

At his lie that slipped a little too easily, his attempts to mask his hurt.

Unbeknownst that Y/N’s fingers were clenched around the side of her skirt. That she had felt a sting from the moment Jisung hesitated in response to the boy’s question.

She had watched him pause, unsure of how to label their relationship, more than friends?

Or just a sibling-like bond, like someone had joked about a year ago? Putting the thought into her head ever since.

And now, it seemed the answer was clear. Just friends.

Just best friends.

And soon, the best friends were walking across the stage at graduation.

Their smiles were wide as they stood side by side, their parents snapping endless pictures after the ceremony.

“Closer, closer—Jisung, hold the flowers between you two.” Her father instructed.

“Y/N, your hair—fix that part. Okay, perfect” His mother gestured with a smile as she raised the camera.

Y/N grinned brightly, but Jisung’s gaze faltered on her, on the beautiful expression that made his heart tighten.

He knew he couldn’t confess today. He couldn’t tell her how much he liked her, how he wanted to be her boyfriend, to be hers.

Instead, he smiled widely, his arm slipping behind them to make a peace sign over her head as their parents snapped the photo.

High school was over, but the Loser Club seemingly persisted.

────────────────────────

“Are you going to join any clubs?”

Y/N stared down at the flyer that one of these campus clubs’ members handed to her.

“Taekwondo.” She read aloud, eyes scanning over the jumble of words before she looked over to Jisung.

The quiet man reached for the flyer, taking it away before she read too much into it and decided Taekwondo was something she wanted to do. He could already see her getting hurt attempting a high-kick or something.

The first semester of college had started earlier that week, and already, they were thrown into so much chaos. From the piling workload they’d already received to the extracurricular activities and clubs that seemed to be shoved down their throats, everything felt slightly overwhelming.

“I barely have time to breathe.” He muttered with a sigh, his head shooting around all the club tents set up on this sunny afternoon.

There was a club for everyone, interests that drew them in. But truth be told, Jisung didn’t seem to find one that caught his attention. Attracted him to whatever they offered.

Especially after Y/N had begrudgingly accepted the fact that she wasn’t good at art, albeit four years too late, he didn’t feel the need to join anything else.

His eyes settled on his best friend. The girl titled her head as she took in his words, making a face in response.

Han Jisung was already in a club.

His own club, one that existed only in his mind. A club dedicated entirely to her.

A place where he could freely think of her, love her, and pine for her.

The Loser Club. The one she had unknowingly created all those years ago when she scribbled it on his form.

The Loser Club, where he was now the only member. The biggest loser, all by himself. And yet, he didn’t particularly hate it.

Around them, club representatives were calling out to freshmen, trying to recruit them into whatever they had to offer for the next four years. Their wide smiles and booming voices filled the air as Jisung and Y/N walked through the bustling scene.

“You say that as if I have all the free time in the world.” Y/N scoffed at the words he had uttered, turning to glare at him.

Then she pointed a finger accusingly.

“Are you trying to say being a communications major isn’t hard?”

Her dramatic leap to conclusions made him stumble in his step, before he broke into a breathy chuckle. His eyes landed on her slight pout, which only made her look even cuter. Without thinking, his hand reached out to tousle her hair, fingers combing through it just to mess it up a little.

“It’s the hardest major out there.” He teased.

“Even harder than Architecture—no, harder than pre-med.”

Before he could enjoy his sarcastic remark, the whacks she gave him, one for his words and another for messing up her hair, made him shout a loud “oof!” He quickly darted ahead to avoid another hit.

The two of them kept running, chasing each other.

Neither of them joined a club their freshman year.

────────────────────────

Jisung had started packing his things, the last of the students walking out of the lecture room after his professor.

He had been sitting next to his friend Lee Minho, an older guy who changed his major to architecture last semester. He had ended up befriending Jisung, who was one of the “brightest students” according to some of their professors, taking the older man under his guidance.

Though he was a good guy, he was quite smug. A attractive man who got stares from girls whenever they walked across campus together. Making Jisung wonder why he had changed his major from finance, he would have fit in so well there.

“So your friend…” Minho’s voice had broken the silence.

Jisung froze, his fingers halting at the zipper of his backpack for a split second, before he shuts it close. Turning to face Minho.

“What friend?”

Of course he knows who this man was referring to.

His only friend.

The one the two guys met this afternoon on their way to this class. She had stolen his bottle of juice as she and her roommate who had been with her, introduced themselves to Minho, the older man breaking into sheepish smiles as they exchanged greetings, his eyes lingering over Y/N.

His best friend.

The only one outside of this department that waltzed in and knocked on the door of the architectural studio almost every day. Bothering him at his workstation, while he attempted to get things done.

Of course he pretended to be irritated when she distracted him, of course he really wasn’t.

Just like he was pretending now. Staring at Minho with the most confused expression he could put on.

Minho hesitated for a moment, watching Jisung blink back at him

“C’mon man. Your pretty friend. Y/N.”

Jisung’s breath caught in his throat, his heart suddenly pounding against his ribs. He prayed that Minho was simply asking about her health or something innocent like that.

But of course, that wasn’t it.

“Is she single?”

The question settled between them as Jisung processed it, his eyes blinking a few times, staring at Minho’s awaiting gaze.

He wanted to shove this man out of his chair.

He wanted to tell him that Y/N wasn’t single. She was, but not for him.

She would never be single, no matter who asked.

He wanted to swat away any potential suitors as swiftly as he could, as many times as he needed.

Y/N was pretty. A fact he had known since he was a freshman in high school. A painstaking fact that made him simmer in jealousy and bitterness whenever she got the attention of other wandering eyes.

And now his friend. This handsome hunk, this jackass that she had commented was cute before they parted ways earlier that afternoon, was asking about the same pretty Y/N.

His best friend, who was single. Had been single ever since he’d known her.

A fact he couldn’t lie about, even if he wanted to. Because he didn’t want her to miss out on the experiences of youth she claimed to want as they spoke about college that one evening, back in their senior year of high school.

His heart was not letting him lie, just because he was a loser who could never confess.

Instead of shoving Minho out of his seat, Jisung stood. Looking down at the guy who stared up at him slightly stunned, slightly confused.

“She…she is...” He finally voiced out.

He watched as the seated man’s lips thinned into a grin, before he’s cheesing with a smile. One of the widest ones Jisung had seen. And suddenly he regretted it, clutching at his backpack as tightly as he could to calm himself down.

“Good to know. Thanks!” Minho stood as well, grabbing his things before turning to the shorter man.

“She’s visiting the studio later right?” He faltered at the door, turning to find a still Jisung rooted to his spot.

“I don’t know.”

It was a lie.

She was going to visit later. Because Jisung would be at his workstation, and she absolutely loved wracking his brain, hushed mutters and grabby fingers touching all his materials as he attempted to work.

Even if he wasn’t particularly paying any attention to her. She still showed up. Pulling up a chair to oversee whatever he worked on as if she understood what he was doing.

He’d pretend like she was in the way. Often putting her to use by making her cut and score the board materials he was going to use in his 3D model.

And on days when he was really concentrated, really busy, she would pull out her own work, opening her textbook at the little corner of the table Jisung always left empty for her to scatter her things.

Minho let out a “hmmm” before he clicked his tongue.

“I guess we’ll see in the evening. See you then.” He waved, his figure disappearing out the door of the lecture hall.

The rest of Jisung’s day had seemed to have gone in a blur. His mind slightly dazed, slightly distracted.

Then he received a text from her.

His pretty friend.

The one who was single. The one he was in love with. Too much of a coward to cross that almost forbidden line.

It was a casual text, asking him if he planned to “drown in his miseries after classes to work on his next project.”

It was her way of saying she would stop by. That she was probably going to bring him something quick to eat before he drifted into his frustrations.

Jisung found himself typing.

Too busy. Don’t come please.

Then he waited, his legs slightly bouncing up and down as he stared at the screen.

He had never told her not to show up. Never used proper punctuation in their messages, something he looked back at with dread.

But to his surprise, she responded with an emoji. A thumbs up. Followed by properly punctuated messages. Mirroring his.

Okay loser. Don’t overdo it.

It should have made him feel less anxious. That he had avoided her running into Minho later. But he felt shitty. For pulling such a stunt when he had basically told Minho to pursue her.

Sure he didn’t really tell that handsome friend of his to “go for it”, but he didn’t stop him either.

He didn’t put an end to whatever interests sparked in the older man’s eyes. He should have.

But Jisung was a coward.

And now he was stewing in guilt, in irritation. In his own pitiful situation.

“—Hello, earth to loser!” Y/N exclaimed, fingers taking out the headphones that were in Jisung’s ears.

The seated boy looked up from his workstation, at his best friend who leaned against the edge of his desk, towering over his form.

Startled eyes taking in her sudden presence here.

Surprised that she was here. Even after she said she wouldn’t come.

“How much longer?” She groaned, eyes glossing over his sketch pad, at the poor eraser that was much shorter than she saw the day before, its savings scattered to a designated corner.

The seated man’s eyes darted around the studio. At the empty workstations he swore he saw a few others working at, Minho working at. Only to find them empty. Then his brows furrowed as he glanced out the large glass windows.

The sun had set long, and he realized that he had been holed up here longer than usual. Until he was the last one left behind.

He had told her not to come today, and surprisingly she listened.

For the most part. Because she was here now, looking at him with her head tilted.

“Sheesh, you really were busy huh?” Her eyes were back on his sketches, on the model he had started working on, trying to make heads or tails of it.

“What is taking so long?” She muttered at the sight of it all, making her feel dumber by the moment as she stood straight.

“I’ve texted you a hundred times.”

Her quiet best friend glanced at his phone.

“…Ah, I muted notifications. Sorry about that.”

Y/N sensed something was off. Her eyes squinted as his explanation came a little too easily. At his wary gaze that kept looking towards the studio doors.

“Let’s get something to eat, you’re clearly hungry.” She chalked it up to just that, sure he wouldn’t have even told her what seemed to bother him even if she pressed.

Maybe she would pull it out of him over food. Y/N doesn’t wait for his response, already grabbing his phone, his headphones and then stuffing them in his bag.

Jisung mirrored. Grabbing the things he needed before tidying his equipment. Leaving his model for the next day. The computer screen he had opened with the blueprint was powered off quickly.

The corridor outside the studio was mostly empty now, with only one or two students lingering in the lounge, absorbed in their laptops. Jisung grabbed his bag from Y/N, pulling the straps over his shoulders. Before he could ask what she wanted to eat, a voice calling his name made him freeze.

His hands stalled on his backpack straps, too afraid to turn around and face Minho.

The older man, one of the students who had been sitting in the lounge, looked surprised to see Y/N.

“Hi, Y/N. Good to see you again.” Minho smiled, an awkward hand brushing the back of his neck before his gaze shifted to the suddenly tense Jisung.

“Oh, hi.” Y/N’s voice was sweet and polite, the words pleasant, but they pricked at Jisung’s nerves.

Words that shouldn’t have had that effect, yet still did. Especially knowing that Minho was looking at her the same way he did.

Jisung watched as a smile spread across Y/N’s lips, her eyes fixed on the older man.

“Are you leaving for the day?” Minho asked, though his gaze seemed to linger a little too long on Y/N.

Jisung struggled to find words, instead opting to nod as he cleared his throat, hoping it would make him speak.

“We’re grabbing something to eat.” Y/N cut in, her eyes shifting from Jisung to Minho.

“You should join us if you haven’t eaten yet.”

The invitation was polite, but Jisung could hear the overt sweetness in her tone. The kind that came from habit, a well-worn courtesy. He knew it well.

But still, it stung.

“Ah! Could I? I haven’t eaten yet.” Minho’s grin widened, and he exchanged a knowing look with Jisung, who shot a sharp glance back.

Minho had devoured a burger only an hour ago in the studio, a sight Jisung had witnessed from his desk.

Y/N’s hand gently gripped his forearm, pulling him from his thoughts. But Jisung couldn’t tear his eyes away from Minho’s gaze. There was something pleading in it.

Unspoken words in the way he looked at her.

The kind of look guys gave their friends when they wanted alone time with a girl.

And Minho’s gaze screamed just that. He wanted time alone with her.

Jisung swallowed hard, the words spilling out before he could stop them.

“Oh. I forgot. I can’t go.” He lied, the words coming out too quickly, and Y/N frowned, confused.

Minho raised an eyebrow, his lips curling into a subtle smile as Jisung played his part.

“What do you mean, can’t go?”

“I have to submit something. I—You two have fun.” Jisung forced a smile, the first one she’d seen from him all evening, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Suddenly?” She pressed, her grip tightening on his arm.

Jisung opened his mouth, perhaps to offer another excuse, but Minho cut in smoothly, his brows raised in mock surprise.

“You didn’t submit Professor Kim’s physics assignment yet?”

Another lie. A good one, though. One that would clear the way for Minho to take Y/N to dinner.

Get her number. Share stories. Laugh.

Maybe things would go so well that Minho would walk her back to the dorms. Maybe they’d do it again. And again. Until Minho asked her out, until they’re walking around campus holding hands, grins plastered on their faces.

The scenarios piled up in Jisung’s mind, overwhelming him. His hands tightened on his backpack straps, trying to ground himself.

Y/N’s hand slipped away from his arm, her gaze flicking between him and Minho before she nodded, accepting their lies.

“Are you sure you can’t spare even ten minutes to eat something?” His best friend’s voice softened, her eyes waiting for Jisung’s response, hoping he’d join them.

That he wouldn’t leave her alone with Minho.

But Jisung didn’t respond in the way she wanted. He shook his head, a silent “no.”

Y/N hesitated, then turned and walked ahead. Minho flashed Jisung a wide grin, raising a hand in a subtle thumbs-up before following her. Jisung stood frozen, clutching his backpack, rooted to the spot.

And that’s how it started.

The lies. The strained smiles. The excuses that always left her alone with Lee Minho.

The distance.

Her best friend had begun to pull away, convincing himself she needed to focus on a love life.

A love life she had confessed to wanting every time they drank a little too much, a little too openly, her desires spilling out, vulnerable and raw.

He remembered every word, it seemed. Yet he couldn’t see that everything she had wanted, all of it, was with him.

The feelings. The desires.

The love life she had dreamed of.

She wanted it with her best friend. The same one who was now distancing himself from her.

It was so obvious.

Han Jisung may have been a smartass, a genius, but when it came to lying to his best friend, he was shit at it. He couldn’t even fool her. Especially not now, when every word felt like another betrayal.

And every time she found herself alone with Lee Minho, that painful sting in her chest grew sharper. The two of them would sit together, laughing over dinner, or coincidentally bump into each other on their way to class, while Jisung gave every excuse under the sun to avoid them.

“That fucker.” Y/N’s roommate muttered, watching as Y/N wiped away another tear.

“Don’t call him that, Yura.” Y/N sniffled, her voice weak, though she still managed to shoot the girl next to her a defensive glare.

Yura, her roommate since freshman year, had figured out everything about Y/N’s feelings for Jisung long before Y/N had fully admitted them to her, herself. In fact, she had mistaken Jisung for her boyfriend during the first week after moving into the dorms. The way Y/N and Jisung interacted was so comfortable, so effortlessly entangled, that it seemed impossible they weren’t a couple. Their constant bickering, their casual closeness.

All spoke of something deeper.

So, when she eventually found out they weren’t together, she stared at them in shock, awkwardly clearing her throat as she pretended she hadn’t made such a blunder.

“How can he be so blind?” Yura’s voice was incredulous, shaking her head.

Each time she thought about it, it only made less sense.

Yura didn’t know Jisung the way Y/N did, but even she could see it. The way they looked at each other, the things they said, the way they felt. But Y/N wouldn’t believe any of it, not unless Jisung himself said it out loud.

Maybe she too was a fool. A coward afraid to cross a line.

“How can someone be so good at studies, but so bad at picking up context clues?” Yura muttered, handing Y/N another tissue that she accepted it numbly, wiping her eyes.

Yura paused, thinking for a moment, and then a mischievous smile curled at the corners of her lips.

“Let’s try something.”

Y/N blinked at her, unsure of what was coming next, suddenly slightly worried.

────────────────────────

Han Jisung stared at Yura, who had cornered him in the library. The shorter girl had her arms crossed over her chest, glaring at him with a look that was hard to miss.

He wasn’t particularly close to Y/N’s roommate. He’d only seen her at both her and his best friend’s suite. Or at events that both of the roommates attended together, the ones Y/N dragged him along to.

But one thing was clear, Yura and Y/N were close. And sometimes it felt like this roommate of hers was gunning for the title of her “best friend,” although Jisung was sure she could never overtake him.

Lately however, it felt as if she could easily take that title.

With the way Jisung had been acting, distant, avoiding. Made him wonder if he could even call himself Y/N’s best friend anymore.

“I’m hosting a party.” Yura said, breaking the silence as she reached into her bag, pulling out a makeshift invitation that looked hastily thrown together.

“I thought you were a marketing major?” Jisung couldn’t help but judge as he took the crumpled invitation from her.

“I’m in marketing, not design.” Yura groaned, crossing her arms again, returning to her defensive stance.

Jisung wasn’t that clueless. He knew his behavior had caught this aggressive roommate’s attention. Thus, her behavior here made sense. At least she wasn’t completely hostile.

“Don’t even think about saying you can’t come. I swear, I’ll fight you if you do, Jisung.” Her words were sharp, preempting any excuses he might throw her way.

Jisung inhaled deeply, forcing himself to stay calm.

“What are you celebrating?” He asked, glancing at the invitation, which only had a date, time, and location.

Some snowflakes and clipart balloons dotted the page.

Truly a horrendous design.

“Winter.” Yura said with a grin, her arms still crossed.

“Winter?” Jisung repeated, clearly confused.

What was so special about this cold, miserable weather? Besides the snowflakes that caught your eyes ever one in a while maybe, nothing else about it was tolerable.

Yura nodded enthusiastically.

“Yep. Winter. A reminder that the semester is finally coming to an end. Always worth celebrating.”

Jisung snorted, unable to suppress a laugh at her ridiculous reasoning.

“Right. Winter. The end of classes, the start of finals.” He countered, words that earn him another sharp glare from Yura.

“And that’s exactly why we’re having a party before we all drown in our miseries—God, Jisung, just be there. I have more invitations to hand out.” She groaned again, as if talking to him was the biggest inconvenience.

With a resigned sigh, Jisung finally gave in. He agreed to attend this “celebration of winter”. A party he was pretty sure he didn’t care about.

But he knew Y/N would be there. She’d always be there, supporting her friends. Something he was clearly not doing well.

What he didn’t expect, though, was to see Lee Minho.

Jisung blinked, his gaze snapping to the older man standing next to Y/N as they entered the private room reserved for Yura’s get-together.

He had arrived early, and seeing them walk in together, side by side, hit him harder than he’d expected.

Minho immediately approached him, going in for a greeting handshake, his eyes flicking between the best friends in a clueless, almost innocent way.

“What are you doing here?” The words slipped from the younger man’s lips before he could stop them.

Minho’s smile widened.

“Y/N invited me.” He chuckled.

But before he could add anything else, the door to the private room opened again.

Yura and three other friends entered, all familiar faces Jisung had recognized from previous gatherings. The room instantly filled with chatter as Yura shot a glance between the three of them, leaning toward Y/N, her eyes lingering on Minho’s handsome face. The one she’d only gotten a quick glimpse of when they’d bumped into the two architecture students on campus those weeks ago.

Conversations flowed casually. Somehow, Jisung ended up at the far end of the table, separated from Y/N. His best friend had tried to sit next to him, but Minho had already pulled out the chair beside him, and Y/N had politely slid into it.

Jisung felt a bitter twinge rise in his chest. He took a sip of water, trying to wash it away, but the taste lingered.

Small talk filled the space around him as more people trickled in. The food started arriving, and the room grew hotter with bodies and chatter. Jisung found himself retreating into the leather of his seat, trying to block out the noise.

His eyes, however, betrayed him. They kept darting back to Y/N and Minho. The two of them were talking and laughing, looking like they belonged together.

Jisung gulped, watching as Minho casually slipped off his cardigan and draped it over Y/N’s shoulders. The gesture was small but somehow enough to spark a flare of anger inside him.

He opted to take a sip of his beer this time, trying to numb the growing frustration. But his eyes still lingered on them, drawn to the sight of his best friend, now so at ease with the guy who was clearly interested in her.

And Jisung hated it.

He took another sip of beer, trying to keep the storm inside him under control.

The evening stretched on, the so-called celebration of Winter, a concept Yura had romanticized, seemed to elude Y/N’s best friend, who suddenly seemed to despise everything about the party. Jisung’s gaze flicked to the cardigan that still hung over Y/N’s shoulders, the fabric draping gracefully over her figure.

She hadn’t even spared him a single glance.

His head dropped, eyes fixed on the tall glass of beer in front of him, pitying himself.

Wasn’t this what he had wanted?

For Y/N to find someone who wasn’t afraid to show how much he wanted to be with her?

For her to have lunch with him, go to dinner, or even just bump into him on campus so he could walk her to class?

A love life. The kind she’d always dreamed of.

Jisung’s thoughts shifted, twisting into a painful knot as he recalled his own desires. The ones he had shoved deep into some corner of his chest after she had practically made it clear she didn’t see him as anything more than a friend.

The plans he had, to tell her how he felt. The confession he had rehearsed over and over in his mind, wanting to say how much he longed for her. The fantasy of becoming the cringey campus couple everyone talked about.

Jisung inhaled sharply, the weight of his own thoughts suffocating him. His eyes glazed over the empty mugs of beer he had unknowingly downed while drowning in his pathetic self-loathing.

He couldn’t stay any longer.

Slowly, he slipped out of the room, his footsteps almost silent as he retreated from the crowd, from Y/N, from everything.

“Well, it seems to be working.” Minho muttered, his gaze sweeping over Jisung at the other end of the table, his younger friend, who appeared lost in his own world.

Y/N glanced between her dazed best friend, a tinge of hurt crossing her expression, before turning back to Minho, who grinned at her.

Han Jisung’s best friend had come clean to him.

About how much she pined for the clueless architect major. The one who was the brightest of their department but terrible at reading her feelings, all the hints she had given him.

Y/N had drawn a line the moment Minho asked if she was okay with him pursuing her.

Sure, it stung a bit, being rejected so easily, so quickly, by a pretty girl.

But it made sense. For Y/N to be in love with Jisung, her best friend, who clearly felt the same but was too afraid to admit it.

And once Minho realized it, he was shocked by how he had missed it. He scolded himself for foolishly asking the man who was in love with her to help set him up.

He felt terrible. So when her roommate had somehow gotten ahold of his number, and had texted him, deviously laying out a ruse to make one of them admit their feelings, he was all in.

“Project Jealousy”, Yura called it, a name that still made him chuckle. Yet, he knew he played the biggest part.

Throughout the evening, Minho had been doing everything he could to get Jisung’s attention. Gestures, subtle touches, lingering glances. Anything to get a reaction.

He did feel a twinge of guilt. On top of it all, keeping even Y/N in the dark felt wrong.

And after he draped his cardigan over her, she frowned at him, leaning in to tell him she had already made it clear she wasn’t interested in going out with him.

So, he came clean. He watched as Y/N’s eyes grew wide, darting from him to Yura, who suddenly refused to meet her gaze.

“Don’t worry. He likes you, that I can confidently say.” Minho whispered to her in assurance.

The sight of Jisung drowning in his misery suddenly became a little amusing, and Minho made it his mission to get them together tonight.

He’d lock them in a room together if all else failed.

And when Y/N’s eyes followed Jisung as he slipped out of the room, the door closing softly behind him, she turned to find Minho’s surprised gaze, blinking at the now-closed door. Clearly, he hadn’t expected that.

Panic surged through Y/N. Her eyes scanned the empty beer glasses Jisung had left behind, the sight of which only fueled her frustration and anger.

“Go.” Minho urged gently, grabbing the cardigan she had forgotten about, which had already been slipping off her shoulders.

Jisung watched the snowflakes fluttering through the air. His gaze raking over the dark sight above him.

It was the first snowfall of the year. Yet here he stood, alone.

His eyes followed the flecks of ice drifting down from the night sky, disappearing into nothingness as it touched the ground, the fabric of his jacket, his hot skin.

His breath was visible in the cold air, fading almost instantly with every sigh he let out. He still felt flush out here in the cold, the evening winter breeze slightly biting, even if the flurries weren’t as severe.

He knew he overdid it, had more than he usually would before deciding he was done drinking. But he couldn't help it. Not when, all evening, he watched Minho leaning into Y/N, the older man’s lips parted in toothy grins as he whispered something into her ear, causing her to look back with an wide-eyed expression.

Jisung could tell she had gasped at whatever nonsense Minho had said. But that shock quickly turned to amusement, and she covered her mouth, stifling a laugh behind her fingers.

It was nonsense, he was sure of it.

And even though he was across the table, surrounded by the loud chatter of others, the clattering of utensils ringing in his ears, Jisung’s eyes kept finding their way back to her and Minho.

He took a sip of his beer. Another. One more. By the time he realized his head was spinning and his chest felt tight, he knew he had exceeded his limit.

He cursed under his breath.

And now, standing outside the restaurant, beneath the cold streetlights, he let the cool air settle over him, trying to calm the dizziness and the thumping of his erratic heartbeat. He sighed, trying to wash away the bitterness that lingered on his tongue.

From the beer, from the sight he had watched all evening.

He dropped his head back, leaning against the lamppost, shoving his hands deep into his sweater pockets. His eyes focused on the snow gathering on the ground, watching the snow pile, his eyes glued to his sneakers.

Then he saw the shadow. A figure approaching, standing just inches from him. His eyes settled on the familiar sight of the same matching sneakers on their feet just inches from his.

His eyes lifted to meet hers, staring back at Y/N who looked at him, her expression laced with a slight concern, a slight of something else.

Han Jisung didn’t think anyone would have noticed his absence. Especially not Y/N, his best friend who seemed to be busy entertaining Lee Minho. But here she was now, the only one who had followed behind him it seemed.

Or maybe she had come out with Minho, and seeing him here standing by himself like a sore loser, she came over.

Jisung’s head turned to look for the mentioned man, for the familiar sight of his cardigan that had once slung over Y/N.

“What’re you doing out here?” Her voice was soft but tinged with concern, her teeth chattering slightly against the chill settling around them.

Maybe she should’ve kept on the thing. Minho’s cardigan.

A thought that made Jisung furrow his brows with irritation.

“It’s cold.” He muttered instead, as if it wasn’t the most obvious thing.

She tilted her head, awaiting for him to continue speaking.

He sighed, his head lolling back against the lamppost as he watched her, taking in the sight of her arms crossed tightly against her chest, a poor attempt to keep warm. The silence stretched on for a few seconds before Y/N sighed, breaking the silence.

“You’re drunk aren’t you?”

Her hand naturally extended, palms resting against his face, fingers gently brushing against his skin to feel the warmth. The red flush of alcohol that seemed to color him.

Jisung hated it.

These touches.

The ones she so casually gave out, as if they meant nothing.

And suddenly he pictured her doing the same to Lee Minho.

The bitterness in his mouth seemed to grow stronger.

He jerked his head away from her touch, pushing her hand away slowly.

“I’m not drunk.” His tone was a little sharper than intended.

Y/N blinked, slightly stunned by his reaction, something out of character for Han Jisung.

“Head back inside. It’s cold.” His voice was quieter now, though it still carried a slight edge. The snow was falling faster, the air growing heavier.

Y/N crossed her arms again, but before she could retort with something sharp, Jisung spoke again, his gaze drifting toward the restaurant.

“Minho is probably waiting for you.”

The words landed heavily between them.

And just like that, Y/N understood.

That the whole evening he was sulking in his corner, was because she was sitting next to Lee Minho.

That she was keeping him company as his seatmate, and her best friend didn’t seem to like it.

That Jisung was downing drinks, three pints from what she counted, because he was…jealous.

Just like Yura and Minho had wanted him to feel.

But Y/N wanted to tell him off.

Get angry at him for acting like this when he was the one that pushed her to Lee Minho’s side.

She wanted to berate him, wag a finger and ask why he was upset when he’s been playing wingman for weeks.

But she doesn’t say any of that.

Instead she sighed out loud once again. Her heart beating rapidly at the confirmation of his conflictions, at the feelings he still refused to admit.

Without another word, Y/N turned on her heels, her figure receding into the distance as she walked back inside.

Jisung stared at the footprints her sneakers left behind, on the concrete that already had a sheet of snow laying over. His lips part to let out a laugh. A pathetic sound under the light of the street lamp.

A few more minutes passed. And before Jisung decided he had enough fresh air, feeling rather cold now, before he made the choice to leave alone, his gaze once again faltered at her figure that approached.

This time staring wide at her approaching figure.

He didn’t think she would be back.

Didn’t think that she would be in her coat, throwing his padded jacket over him, already zipping it up.

“Pain in the ass.” She muttered as she did so.

Then her narrowed gaze settled on him. His stunned expression relaxed as he processed the situation.

As he realized that she wasn’t going back inside, that she didn’t intend to linger behind.

That she didn’t care about Lee Minho or whatever nonsense he blabbered.

“Let’s go.”

Her hand naturally reached down to find his, taking his wrist in her grip before tugging him along. The snow had piled up, slick and slippery beneath their sneakers, but she kept pulling him along, her hand now firmly wrapped around his as she led the way.

Jisung didn’t question where they were going. He wasn’t even sure if he cared. His eyes were fixed on the back of her figure as he followed, lost in the steady rhythm of her steps. The world around him seemed muted, the snow falling heavily now, but his focus remained on her.

It wasn’t until they reached the slope back to campus that Jisung finally returned from his thoughts.

Rather, he stumbled back to reality, slipping on the fresh snow that had piled up a good inch or so.

Before he could regain his balance, he tumbled into her, and the two of them crashed to the ground with loud groans and grunts as they hit the cold earth. The snow-covered grass offered little cushion, and their bodies slid together in an awkward heap.

As the initial shock wore off, Y/N groaned, sitting up slowly, her gaze falling on Jisung, still lying beside her. His eyes fluttered open, staring at the sky, cheeks flushed and the tip of his nose bright red from the cold. The snow continued to fall around them, some of it melting against his skin, leaving damp spots on his face and jacket.

He didn’t move. He just stared at the sky, the night dark and quiet around them, the chill stinging his cheeks.

And finally, finally Jisung had mustered up some courage.

“I don’t want you to date him.”

The thoughts left his mouth in a low murmur, quiet but heavy. Thoughts that had clouded his mind ever since Minho had asked about her.

Ever since he lied, pretended that it didn’t bother him everytime he pushed her toward some other guy.

Finally spoken into words.

His confession made her stare down at him with wide eyes, darting between his gaze that remained on the white specks floating in the air. Too scared to face the kind of expression she made.

“Why…” Her response was equally as quiet, a kind of whisper he hadn’t heard from her before.

The tense man opened his mouth, then fell silent.

How would he explain it?

The turmoil, the feelings.

The fact that he had been in love with her since the moment he saw her.

How could he jeopardize what they had now? A beautiful friendship that he never wanted to lose, never could imagine living without.

He wanted to tell her, he wanted to scream it out into the night.

But he was a coward.

Like he had been back then.

Like he was going to be now. His mouth closed, deciding to remain quiet.

He could hear her inhale sharply. A low mutter of something, a curse perhaps, before she glared down at him. A hot gaze he could feel burning into him.

“Because you were jealous.”

The words came out, firm and certain. A statement, rather than a question.

Ones that make his eyes shoot to her, finally getting a proper look at her expression. At the irritated furrow of her brows, an unreadable glint in her gaze as she peered down at him, speaking nothing but the truth.

She ran her fingers through her hair, which was now wet from the melted snow, the icy strands slicking back against her scalp. Her face was still flushed from the cold, her eyes narrowed at him with something sharp, but there was a hint of something softer there too.

“Are you sober?” Y/N’s voice cut through the silence.

Jisung blinked at her, bewildered by the question, his eyes wide as he stared up at her. Then, his lips tugged into that confused pout she had always hated, a sight that made her heart clench because of how adorable she found it.

He didn’t trust his voice, so instead he nodded.

“Good.”

It took Jisung a moment to fully register what was happening.

The soft press of her lips against his was searing hot. A sharp contrast to the coldness around them, damp with the snow that had melted against his skin.

His eyes widened in shock, his mind reeling as he fully realized that she was kissing him.

Her lips felt soft and plush, moving gently against his.

And just like the snowflakes that dotted their skin, Jisung felt himself melt instantly. Into the kiss. Into her cold fingers that cradled his jaw, guiding him closer, pressing herself into him, deepening the kiss.

Driving him crazy.

Jisung wished it could be a moment that would last forever. But, alas, she pulled away. The tip of her nose was redder than before, from being pressed against his, and her breath came out in heavier puffs, fogging up the chilly air between them.

He swallowed hard, staring at her, frozen in place. He was afraid to move, afraid to sit up, afraid to kiss her properly. Most of all, he was terrified that she might slap a hand over her mouth, her face contorting into disgust, her eyes wide with regret.

Afraid she was going to tell him she hadn’t meant to kiss him at all.

“You don’t want me to be with him. You want me to be with you.”

Her words cut through the chaos in his mind, shattering the doubts that had clouded his thoughts.

His gaze flickered between her eyes, trying to piece together what she was saying. It was a painfully true statement, and he wondered when she had figured it out.

When she had caught on.

To his lingering gazes, his almost forbidden thoughts.

Maybe he didn’t hide his jealousy as well as he thought.

“Tell me. That you want me to be with you. That you want me too. I-I need to hear it, Jisung. Out loud.”

Y/N sat upright, her eyes boring into his, gleaming with a sudden anxiety that made his breath hitch.

She was asking for a sincere confession.

Something to ground her. To give her a validation, long overdue. To not have to guess whether his touches were just friendly or charged with something else.

If his intent gazes that she often caught him staring with, meant more than he claimed.

That he was hers.

And seeing that flicker of anxiety in her gaze, that fear of uncertainty, had Jisung scrambling to sit up.

The snow that had settled over his body scattered like dust. His hands moved instinctively, reaching for hers, fingers trembling as he took them in his.

“I-I want you—I want you to be with me. I was jealous.” The words spilled from him, loud and raw, falling from his lips without hesitation.

Something desperate that he couldn’t hide.

His tone, tinged with eagerness.

It sounded like the first time she had asked him to be her friend. How he had eagerly nodded, his hand shaking hers instantly.

A response that she couldn’t help but break into a grin at. Both his confession and his suddenly awkward form, sitting on his knees soothing that prick that had been lingering in her heart, made this moment sweeter.

His hands, warming hers.

“Good.” The word came out in a whispered repeat.

Her hands slipped from his, reaching for the material of his jacket. She tugged him toward her, pulling him into a kiss. A real kiss.

A proper kiss.

The kind that Jisung returned with equal fervor, his hands trailing over her face before sliding to the warmth of her neck, pulling her in closer. His cold fingers made her shiver, excitement buzzing in her veins as she parted her lips, desperate to deepen their entanglement.

And she did, their mouths working together in a way that made minds reel. Until, after what felt like forever, yet still not long enough, Jisung pulled away.

His breath came out in ragged gasps, his hands still cradling her neck, fingers entangled in her hair. He had been sitting up on his knees, his jeans wet, and cold. Yet all he felt was his skin burning, the feel of her against him, driving him crazy.

Jisung dropped his head in attempts to calm himself, closed eyes processing the whirlwind of emotions, taking deep, steadying breaths before looking back at her.

Her face was flushed, lips swollen from their kiss, wide eyes staring back at his equally flushed expression. Her lips still wet from their kiss. Her gaze awaited.

He gulped, his mouth parting as he finally grounded himself.

“Yo-you can’t take it back.” He stammered almost, his serious gaze boring into her soul, searching for certainty.

“You’re mine.” His tone softened to a whisper, a quiet confession that had been building inside him for far too long, finally free after being locked away in that tiny corner of his heart.

Her brows relax, gentle eyes trailing over his expression before she smiled.

“I’ve always been yours, loser.” Y/N murmured, her voice teasing yet full of warmth, before leaning in to kiss him again.

Something she decided was the most amazing feeling in the world, something she realized she could not get enough of.

The Loser Club had been a two-member group from the start.

────────────────────────

The first days of school had always been intimidating. Especially the first day of high school.

A new school. A new environment. New faces.

For Y/N, the nerves hit harder. She had moved to this town the summer after middle school, knowing absolutely no one. She hadn’t gone to school here before, and the unknowns felt heavy on her chest.

She stood on the sidewalk, staring at the winter sky. The sun had peeked through the early morning haze, casting a pale light across the world, but the air was still bitterly cold.

Y/N shoved her hands deeper into her coat pockets, trying to keep the chill from her fingers. The snow had piled up overnight, crunching under her shoes as she walked. She kicked at it absently as she neared the school, her heart pounding in her chest.

The streets were empty, quiet. The early morning stillness before everyone else began to rush to class. She glanced around, taking in the unfamiliar route, wondering how many times she would walk it in the next few years.

Then, her steps faltered. Her gaze locked onto a figure ahead.

A boy had slipped on the icy ground, his arms flailing as he tried to regain balance before falling backward.

The thud of his body hitting the soft snow was loud in the stillness of the morning. A sound that made Y/N’s gasp, her hand instinctively reaching out, as if she could somehow help from a distance.

But as she continued to watch, her confusion deepened.

The boy didn’t seem to be in any hurry to get up. He just lay there, staring up at the sky as if he had all the time in the world. He didn’t even attempt to move, just blinking slowly, watching the snowflakes drifting down from above.

Y/N’s gaze followed his, lifting her eyes to the delicate white specks falling through the sky. It was a beautiful, calming moment, one that suddenly eased the tightness in her chest in a way she hadn’t expected.

The boy remained where he was, eyes still fixed on the sky, unbothered by the cold or the snow around him.

A small smile tugged at Y/N’s lips as she walked closer. The snow crunched under her feet as she approached, her figure casting a shadow over him.

She tilted her head, studying him.

He was cute, she thought.

Suddenly, the boy blinked, his eyes widening as he looked up at her, startled. His mouth parted in surprise.

Her brows furrowed slightly in amusement.

“Are you okay?”

Jisung’s eyes grew even wider, and for a brief, breathless moment, something shifted between them.

A flutter. An inexplicable pull.

That feeling. The one that surged in their chests at the same time it seemed.

Love at first sight. ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ end.

270 notes · View notes

tomssexdoll · 2 months ago

Text

Fire and Ice

PAIRINGS: Tom 2010 x Female reader

CONTENT: ANGST + SMUT + FLUFF

SYPNOSIS: Tom and Y/N have been enemies for years, they go to the same university and he is such a pain in the ass. One day at a party they get into an argument, one slap leading to him giving Y/N a taste of how he really felt about her.

A/N: if you want to be tagged or i accidently missed your tag comment on my pinned masterlist <3

WARNINGS: dom!tom, sub!reader, p in v (missionary but turns into riding), mutual masturbation, LOTS OF TEASING AND KISSING, arguing (some violence but only a tiny bit)

Tom kaulitz was my "enemy", he was in the same university as me and much to my luck, every single class I was in. He was a pain in the ass, a real asshole. He always teased me, only choosing to be an asshole to me and nobody else.

I didn't really know why he chose me to be his personal punching bag, it's not like I ever did anything, he was always just like that, trying to target me in any way he could, finding flaws and running with them.

He acted like an immature teenager, throwing paper balls at me just to spite me, he was disrespectful, always invading my personal space. I was sick of it, I came close to just punching him in the face multiple times and he loved it, he loved the reactions he got out of me.

One day, I got invited to one of his friends parties at their mansion. It was gonna be quite a big party, filled with hundreds of people I didn't know. My friends were going and I decided to not let Tom dictate my night, wanting to have fun without him disturbing it like he always did. I got dressed, wearing a skimpy red dress that accentuated my curves, paired with some black louboutins. I chose a simple makeup look and straightened my hair, keeping it down.

We arrived quite late, walking inside the mansion and admiring the interior design, walking outside where everyone was. We were greeted by the host and given some drinks, the music blasting in our ears and the smell of alcohol wafting through the air. We looked around to see a majority of people in the pool, splashing around and having fun, the cool night air breezing against our skin.

He was in the garden, talking to some friends. He was already quite drunk, wearing a white t shirt with some random band on it, dark blue baggy jeans and a leather jacket. He had a cigarette in one hand and beer in another, taking occasional drags from his cigarette, blowing the smoke into the night sky.

I walked over to the cooler, I had already finished my drink and rummaged through it, finding bottles upon bottles of beer until I spotted a seltzer can, I grabbed it and cracked it open, taking a small sip.

Toms eyes caught me from across the yard. He muttered something to his friends before saunting over, his movements confident and purposeful. He stopped a few feet away, eyeing the rink in my hand with a smirk. I was with my friends, they just settled with the beer and we started to talk.

Tom interrupted my conversation, his voice loud over the music, "not drinking tonight?" he teased, tipping his beer bottle towards my seltzer. His tone was mocking, as if he didn't believe I'd have the self control, "or are you on a special diet?" he pouted sarcastically.

I rolled my eyes and looked him up and down, "fuck off Tom, go back to your deadbeat friends, I'm sure they'd love your company right now," I winked, making a blowjob motion in my mouth, with my tongue, my friends chuckling with me.

Toms face darkened, he stepped closer, towering over me. "You've got a smart mouth on you," he growled, leaning in, his voice low, "careful...it might get you into trouble.." he paused, his gaze flicking to my lips. I bursted out laughing, "aww I'm so scared, mr tough guy! Get the fuck out of here Tom," I turned back to my friends.

Toms hand shoots out, grabbing my arm and spinning me back around to face him. His grip is firm, almost painful, "you think this is fucking funny?" he sneered. "You think you're better than me?" he raised his voice, looking at my friends, a cold glare. "Hey! Don't talk to my fucking friends like that, have some respect!" I raised my voice back, shoving him off me.

He stumbled back a step, surprise flashing across his face before his expression hardened again. He took a step forward, crowding my personal space, I had to admit, he was kind of sexy when he was mad. "You push me..I push back.." he gave me a small shove, "you shove me, I shove harder," he said darkly.

I slapped him harshly across the face, the sound of the slap echoing, catching everyone's attention, "get the fuck away from me Tom!" I screamed. His head snapped to the side, for a moment he was stunned, his hand coming up to touch his reddening cheek. Then his eyes narrowed dangerously as he turned back to me, "you fucking bitch.." he grunted, his chest heaving with intense anger.

Without warning, Tom grabbed my waist and threw me over his shoulder, "you think you're fucking tough, huh? You think you can mouth off to me and get away with it? I don't fucking think so!" he yelled, marching inside the house as I kicked and screamed.

"GET OFF ME YOU BASTARD! FUCK YOU!" I kept screaming obscenities at him, clawing at his back and kicking his stomach, but he didn't budge, my blows to him were like tiny punches. He laughed at my attempts to escape and bursted into an empty bedroom, sitting me down on the dresser.

He stood in between my legs and looked down at me, his eyes burning with rage, "look at me.." he growled, grabbing my chin and forcing me to look up at him, "why do you have to be so difficult all the time, hm?" he said lowly. I scoffed and looked at him in disbelief, "you were the one that fucking started it Tom, don't start with that shit!" his jaw clenched, his hands fisting at his sides.

"I don't give a fuck whether I started it or not, you don't get to just slap me around whenever you feel like it," I furrowed my eyebrows, "and you don't get to taunt me whenever you feel like it, you're such a fucking hypocrite!" I raised my voice, I could physically feel the anger rising in me.

"Shut your mouth.." he hissed, grabbing my chin tighter, "oh fuck you Tom, shut your fu-" he silenced me with a brutal, passionate kiss, crashing his mouth against mine, his hands gripping my thighs painfully tight. He kissed me rough and hard, his teeth biting into my lower lip.

When he pulled back, we were both breathing heavy, chests heaving. "You fucking infuriate me.." he growled, "oh shut up you love it," I glared at him and smashed my lips into his once again, passionately kissing him, our tongues fighting for dominance.

He groaned against my mouth, his hands coming up and tangling in my hair. He kissed me back just as passionately, his anger morphing into desire. He grinded his hips against mine, showing me just how much he does 'love it'.

"You're such a fucking cunt..I hate you.." I grunted against his lips, he chuckled, "you hate me, I hate you," he muttered, his mouth moving to my neck. He sucked and bit at my skin, marking me, "but we both know you'd beg for me.." he smirked.

I rolled my eyes, "wipe that shit eating grin off your face, you're not smart," he chuckled and kept kissing my neck, trailing up to my jawline, "cmon baby.." he pouted, "stop fighting me, let me make you feel good.." he whispered in my ear, his breath hot.

I bit my lip and turned my head to the side, "mmmh...stubborn girl.." he moved his hands down my body, grabbing my thighs and pulling me closer to him. His grin widened, knowing it'd irritate me. He slid his hands under my dress and gently grazed his fingers over my panty covered pussy, letting his fingers drag along, teasing me.

"Tom.." I gasped, looking up at him, "that's it baby...relax.." he cooed, his voice filled with sarcasm. "Oh fuck you.." I reached my hand out and grabbed his bulge, squeezing it softly, "not so fun when it's being done to you, hm?" he inhaled sharply as I groped him, his hips jerking forward into my touch.

"Careful.." he warned, but his voice was strained with pleasure. He grabbed the straps of my dress and dragged them down my shoulders, letting them slip through my arms. He then reached behind me, gently gliding the zipper down, in one swift motion he took my dress off, revealing myself to him.

I was barely wearing a bra and panties, I had a black thong on and a skimpy lacy bra, my tits practically spilling out of my bra. "Fuck you're gorgeous.." he groaned, diving his head down and kissing my neck once again, leaving a new trail of hickeys.

"You walk around looking like that.." he spread my thighs wider, growling softly in my ear, "it's asking for trouble.." he trailed his kisses down to my collarbone, then my cleavage.

I gently pushed him back, grabbing his belt and sliding it off. My fingers focused on the buttons of his jeans, letting it fall down and pool at his ankles. His shirt followed soon after, I trailed my fingers down his abs, watching as he stood before me only in his boxers, his erection strained and his muscular physique on full display.

I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him in, using one of my hands to bring his hand to my wet pussy, "don't be afraid.." I smirked, my words laced with playfulness. "Mmmh.." he hummed, slipping a finger beneath my thong and into me.

He pumped in and out slowly, his thumb rubbing circles over my sensitive bud. "And what am I afraid of exactly..." he whispered, "of this...?" he added another finger, causing me to moan softly.

"Mmmh..good girl.." he praised. I used my free hand to trail it down his stomach to his lower belly, then to his boxers. I slipped my hand inside and found his hard cock, pulling it out and slowly jerking him off in time with his thrusts.

His eyes rolled back as I jerked him off, his hips rocking against my hand. He curled his fingers deeper inside me, fucking me with his hand as he toyed with my clit. "Fuck...fuck!" he panted, his free hand fisting on the dresser.

I leaned in and kissed him passionately, speeding up my movements on his cock, my hand rapidly gliding up and down his shaft. He groaned loudly and sped up his movements, rapidly pumping his fingers in and out of my needy pussy, curling upwards to drive me crazy, hitting that spot inside me that I loved.

"Mmmh!" I whined against his lips, we continued our movements together, getting each other off. The kiss got more passionate as things got more heated, our orgasms approaching rapidly. I felt a fire in my stomach, a burning sensation I desperately needed to satisfy.

I could feel his cock twitching in my hand, desperate for release, my pussy also throbbed against his fingers, my clit sensitive and aching. "You're so fucking sexy..oh fuck..gonna cum.." he grunted, his chest heaving, his hand on the dresser unfisting and coming to my thigh, holding onto me tightly.

I moaned and rolled my eyes back, my orgasm coming crashing down in time with his, he let out a low, guttural moan against my mouth, his hips jerking forward as he spilled into my hand. He rested his forehead against mine, breathing heavily, "bed..."he mumbled, lifting me and carrying me to the bed, throwing me onto it, "now.." he crawled up towards me, hovering over me.

I grabbed his face and kissed him passionately, I needed his lips on mine, forever. He kissed me back fiercely, years of pent up frustration pouring out. His tongue dominated mine, teeth clashing as he pinned me to the bed. He settled between my thighs, breaking off the kiss, his chest heaving as his fully erect cock pressed against my core.

He moved his hands down and yanked my thong off, then moving to my bra. He practically ripped my bra off, grabbing my tits and squishing them together, shoving his face in them, licking and sucking relentlessly, "so good..fuck..these perfect fucking tits..oh god.." he groaned, licking and sucking my nipples rapidly.

"Please fuck me.." I whined, my hands roaming around in his hair. He kept feasting on my chest, his mouth and hands everywhere at once. He licks and bites at my supple mounds, his calloused fingers pinching and rolling my hardened peaks. He pulled back, his eyes hungrily taking in my heaving chest, "look at you..so desperate for my cock...hm? Aren't you?" he growled.

When I didn't answer he reached up, his hand fisting in my hair and pulling on it, bringing me close to his face. "Aren't you?" he repeated, his voice raised, I nodded eagerly and whined, "please...give me your cock Tom, stop fucking teasing!"

He chuckled and spread my legs, hooking his arms in my thighs and pulling me closer, his tip prodding at my entrance, waiting impatiently. With a grunt, the thrusted forward, burying himself inside me in one smooth motion.

"Holy fuck!" I gasped, he didn't give me time to adjust, immediately starting to piston in and out of me at a brutal pace. He grips my thighs hard, his fingers digging into my flesh as he fucked me mercilessly, "TOM!" I yelped, holding onto him tightly, my tits bouncing wildly as his thrusts kept increasing.

He grinned wickedly, loving the way I reacted to him. He leaned down and kissed me hard, swallowing my cries as he continued to pound into me. "You take me so well.." he groaned, his hands squeezing my backside. I whined and kept kissing him, I could almost feel him in my throat.

He suddenly flipped us around so I was on top, he sat up against the pillows of the bed and grabbed my ass tightly, lifting me up and slamming me onto his cock repeatedly, I rolled my eyes back, the intense pleasure causing my body to shake.

"I can't take it! Too much!" I cried out, his eyes darkened and he thrusted harder, "you're going to take, every. single. inch." he said, his words in time with his thrusts. "Understand?" he whispered sadistically, I nodded and whimpered, my legs trembling uncontrollably.

He smirked arrogantly, knowing he was overwhelming me, but he loved it, he loved how I fell apart against him. He continued to lift and drip me onto his lap, his powerful arms handling me with ease. "Touch yourself...touch that sensitive clit baby, show me how much you love this cock stuffed inside you.." he grumbled, guiding my hand down.

"I've waited so long for this moment, everytime I see you I can't stop thinking about how fucking hard I'd make you take my cock..the sounds you'd make.." he whispered against my skin.

I rubbed shaky circles on my clit, my mouth slightly agape as I felt my orgasm rapidly approaching, I was being sent into a state of pure ecstasy, my vision going blurry. "Cmon, cum for me baby!" he yelled, placing his hand over mine and speeding my hand up, "FUCK, FUCK, FUCK!" I moaned loudly, my pussy clenching around his cock tightly as my orgasm came crashing down.

He groaned loudly "this pussy is so fucking good, fuck!" he slammed me down one last time, burying himself to the hilt as he exploded inside me, cum leaking down my walls. He held me tight, his face buried in my neck as he rode out his high.

"Oh my god...fuck..." he panted, "that was amazing.." I whispered, my chest heaving as I tried to calm down. After a while of settling down, I got up, my shaky legs walking over to find my clothes, as I went searching I caught a glimpse of myself, something on my neck.

I turned to look, my eyes widening as I saw my neck and chest were FULL of hickeys. "Hickeys? Seriously Tom, what are you, 12?" I groaned, running my fingers over them, he chuckled and came up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist and inspecting them, "fuck..I did a number on you didn't I," he pressed a soft kiss to my shoulder, "oops.." he mumbled.

"Lets get out of here, yeah?" he turned me to face him, his eyes softer now. I nodded softly and gathered all my clothes, sitting on the bed to get dressed. He put his clothes back on, adjusting himself and taking my hand, guiding me out of the party.

tags: @ballhair @bills-wife-1 @bkaulitzlover

tags: @ella1289 @billsdolliest @tomscumdoll

tags: @tomsfuckdoll @tomkslut @miyukafujii

tags: @itsangelll

265 notes · View notes