#all this shit is partially his fault

[boarwinds]

Pre-professor au

Pre-professor au

I’m too lazy to type out the au so here’s the edited version from my rambling to a friend

[ectonurites]

almost 4am can't stop thinking about the meaning of the idiom 'to have blood on [someone's] hands'—to be responsible for a person's death—combined with the fact that Zach is the one we are specifically shown with Daryl's actual blood on his hands (once for real and once in a dream)... Not Josh who had been holding the sword Daryl fell onto, but Zach who took the sword out.

[timeskip]

Every day that passes is another day my dad continues to not care about his adult children even though my brother is threatening legal action against him now for breaking the divorce agreement

[skhardwarevers1]

In all seriousness tho like. Manzo is interesting to me. I thought of him and said “yeah…..he’s going to watch the horrors of the universe ending”

[mimicmimikyuwrites]

Jealousy - Lucifer (Hazbin Hotel) x Fem!Sinner!Reader SMUT

Summary: Lucifer's jealousy emerges when your Ex from when you were alive enters the hotel in search of you. Lucifer makes sure to claim you as his.

Contents/Possible Warnings: P in V sex, dom!Lucifer, cream pie, Lucifer being possessive, marking, unprotected sex, degradation (it happens like once), SMUT, MDNI

A typical day in Hell was far from calm, so whenever a peaceful moment occurred, even a small one, you made sure to savor it, appreciating it for what it was. For example, you intended to let the wonderful moment you were currently in last for as long as you possibly could. You had been watching a movie in your room in the hotel, but by now your attention had turned away from the movie in question and onto Lucifer. The king of Hell had snuggled up closer to you than he already had been, his head resting on your shoulder as he watched the show.

The simple gesture made you melt, and you couldn't resist gently turning his face to look at you. Lucifer looked at you curiously, waiting for your next move. You placed a gentle kiss on his cheek, enjoying the smile it brought to his face.

"Hmm, that was nice, but I think you missed, love." He leaned in, closing the gap between you two, kissing you lovingly. You moved to deepen the kiss and— a knock came at the door. You parted from the kiss and looked towards your room door as Lucifer let out a disappointed sigh. "I'll make sure to give you as many kisses as you want later, alright?" You whispered to him, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek before standing up and answering the door.

"(Y/N)!" Charlie exclaimed in excitement. "The hotel has a new guest! They said that they know you. You two must've been friends before! Come on, let's go see them!" Without warning, Charlie eagerly grabbed you by the hand, pulling you through the hallways of the hotel and towards the main lobby.

In the lobby, you saw them. The fucker you had hoped would never die purely so you would never have to see them again. Yet, here they were in all of their trashy, shit glory. "Hi." You said with a fake smile, trying to remain civil and hold back the resentment that had since been dormant.

"(Y/N)! Baby!" Your ex grinned, approaching you with wide, open arms. "I'm so glad I found you after all these years. It took some asking around, but we're together again!" They wrapped their arms around you, squeezing you tight enough that it felt like you might suffocate.

"Woah, haha! Hands off, please!" Lucifer appeared next to you, poking at your ex with his cane, annoyance seeping into his forced, polite tone. They finally released you, glaring at Lucifer as he stepped between the two of you.

"And just who the hell are you?" Your ex questioned, watching as Lucifer wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you close to his side. "I feel like I should be asking you that question." Your boyfriend replied snidely, any attempt to be polite despite the situation now far gone.

"Alrighty!" Charlie said with a nervous laugh, wishing that she had gathered more information about her hotel's newest guest and their relationship with you before allowing them to see you. "Let's all just relax, and maybe (Y/N) can introduce the two of you to eachother."

You let out a sigh. You loved how sweet Charlie was taking in any sinner, you really did, but sometimes it did more harm than good, usually to no fault of her own. You motioned to your ex, "Lucifer, this is my ex." Then you motioned to your boyfriend, "This is Lucifer. King of Hell...And my boyfriend." The last part felt almost weird to say, the surrealness of dating the Hell's king and the man sometimes known as the devil himself finally setting in.

Your ex only laughed in response, earning an angry, growling-like noise from Lucifer. You grabbed his hand, squeezing it in an attempt to calm him down which only partially worked.

"There's no way this little guy is Hell's king! He's so fucking short. I really thought you had better standards in who you date, babe."

"Fuck you." You hissed, anger bubbling up inside of you as you felt yourself slipping into your more demonic form. "He's certainly better than you ever were." By now the other inhabitants of the hotel had gathered around, some more entertained than anything, while others, particularly Vaggie, were preparing for the brawl that was surely about to happen.

"Woah! Look at the time." Charlie intervened. "It's getting pretty late, why don't we all start heading to bed?" You responded only by turning around and heading towards your room, in desperate need of calming yourself down. Lucifer followed behind you, the walk to your room quiet with no words spoken.

You opened your door, nearly throwing it open in your still-present anger, before flopping down onto the bed with a loud, frustrated groan. You looked to the side, taking notice of the way Lucifer refused to look at you, his arms crossed.

"Honey?" No answer. "Love?" No answer, yet again. "Luci?" That did the trick. He always melted whenever you called him that.

"Your ex is fucking annoying."

You let out a small chuckle at his bluntness, a smile making its way onto your face. "They are, Luci. That's why they're my ex." You sat up, pulling him down onto the bed with you, kissing him, causing both of you to relax, some built-up tension leaving.

"You're all mine, aren't you?" He questioned, already knowing your answer. "Mine to love. Mine to claim." His mouth moved to your neck, sharp teeth grazing the skin, and you let out a soft moan as he began to nibble and kiss at the skin, his teeth leaving a mark you were sure he'd take pride in.

Your head fell to the side, giving him more access to your neck as you took his hat off, throwing it to the side, your fingers running through his hair as he continued to mark you.

"I'm going to ruin you for anyone else. You'll only ever want me." He whispered, lips returning to yours in a fervent kiss. Your lips remained locked together, only occasionally parting for a few seconds so you could help rid each other of the clothes that separated you from what you both craved.

He moved between your legs, the tip of his hardened cock teasing at your wet entrance. Usually, you two would've done more before the main act, but you two were more than ready to indulge in the other right now.

"Don't be a tease, Lucifer." You purred, spreading your legs wider. "Can't you feel how wet I am? How ready I am for you to fuck me senseless?"

He smirked before finally slipping in, biting his lip to prevent an almost embarrassingly loud moan that threatened to surface at the way you felt wrapped around him. He has been in heaven before, and he could say with confidence that being deep inside of you felt better than anything his former home could've offered him.

He began to thrust, his pace starting slow, still teasing you. He wanted you to beg, and you already knew it.

"Faster, harder, please, Lucifer—" You pleaded, giving in to what he wanted from you. "I know you want to pound me into this bed, Lucifer—Ah! Fuck!—" His pace sped up, and the sound of hips meeting yours in rapid succession filled the room. "Fuckfuckfuck–yes!"

"You always feel so fucking good." He growled, wings slipping out as he lost himself in the ecstasy that was your pussy. You ran your fingers through the red and white feathers, and he let out a pleasured whine at the feeling. His wings had always been sensitive.

"Fuck me—Let them all know I'm yours!" You cried out, losing yourself in the feeling of his cock fucking you with quick, deep strokes. You gripped the sheets in your hands, back arching as he angled himself just right, hitting your sweet spot head on.

"Mine. Mine to ruin, mine to fuck, and mine to fill up. All mine." His hands found yours, pinning them down against the bed as he began to fuck you even harder, his climax nearing. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him in closer.

"I'm gonna cum–You're going to make me cum so hard–"

"Then fucking do it." He demanded with a growl. "Cum around my cock like the little slut you are for me." You came around him, cunt spasming as your orgasm coursed through you. Lucifer's wings fluttered as he followed you soon after, filling you up with his hot cum.

You pulled him down into a sweet kiss once your climax subsided, cupping his face in your hands. God, you loved him more than anything. The kiss ended after a good moment, leaving you both to bask in your shared, post-coital bliss.

"You lost a few feathers," You observed with a giggle, holding one up. He chuckled warmly, lying beside you. You rested your head on his chest, enjoying the peacefulness of the moment. You'd have to deal with your ex in the morning, but for now, you were both satisfied with knowing that you were entirely Lucifer's, and that's how you'd always want it to be.

[sunniques]

— 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝

➺ PAIRING: yoon jeonghan x female reader

➺ GENRE: stepdad au, smut

➺ SUMMARY: the story of how you get caught in your stepdad’s web of depraved desires.

➺ CW/TW: stepcest, infidelity, age gap, manipulation, dub con, drugging, toxic relationship(s), slight dd/lg themes, daddy kink, dacryphilia, breeding kink, degradation, spanking, dumbification, unprotected sex, riding, cum play, ass play, fingering, multiple rounds, overstimulation, creampies, squirting

➺ WC: 4.2k

NOTE: don’t like, don’t read. once again, i have to thank the amazing @wonustars for beta reading this for me <3

The moment your mom asked you to move back home, you knew things in her marriage were heading south. It’s not like she didn’t want you around, but even you could tell she only asked you to act as a buffer between her and her husband. Like the good daughter you always tried to be, you accept her invitation even though you know it probably won’t be the best idea in the long run.

Things are relatively normal at first. Jeonghan is a sweetheart. He always has been, even dating back to when you were a college freshman and you officially met him. You can tell he tries to keep the peace with you around. That doesn’t mean you haven’t accidentally overheard your mom and him arguing when they think you’re not around.

It’s awkward, especially because your mom seems like the bad guy in ninety percent of their fights. You wonder if seeing a marriage counselor will help their situation.

“My friend’s dad is a marriage counselor,” you casually mention to your mom when it’s only two of you one day. “I can give you the number to his office—”

You’re abruptly cut off when your mom slams her spoon down on the table. The look she has on her face is borderline murderous, and you wonder if you should’ve just kept your mouth shut.

“Did Jeonghan tell you he wants to go to counseling?” She demands, teeth gnashing together as she spits her words.

“What? No!” You exclaim wondering why she was so quick to throw the blame on your stepdad. “I just thought—”

“I can’t believe this shit,” her words are spoken through a bitter chuckle. “You know, I’m the one who told him we need to talk to someone. I can’t believe he had the audacity to put this idea in your head!”

Despite your attempt to clear up the misunderstanding your mom has, she leaves the house and doesn’t come back until the next day. You feel incredibly guilty. It’s not like you meant to make her angry, and you definitely didn’t mean for her to get angry with Jeonghan again.

Your stepdad remains incredibly sweet. He hugs you and rubs your back, assuring you that it wasn’t your fault.

“Don’t worry, little girl,” Jeonghan says with a kind smile. “Your mom and I will be fine. Just focus on school, okay? I pay a lot of money so you can be the best.”

He’s teasing you, and you’re not sure why you feel so relieved to know that he’s not angry with you.

Unfortunately for everyone, things get worse before they even have a chance to get better. Eventually, your mom no longer cares to start arguments with her husband even when you’re around.

You can’t help but feel sorry for Jeonghan because you can see how exhausted he is. That sweet smile can’t hide all the pain and defeat he feels. You wish you could do something to help, but he always pats your head affectionately and tells you to focus on school when you offer.

It’s not until you come home one night and find him alone in the trashed living room that you know things have gone too far.

“Jeonghan?” You say cautiously, walking around the broken glass littered on the floor.

It’s a mixture of a broken wine bottle and glass from a picture frame. The one that held your mother’s wedding photo. Jeonghan has his head in his hands as you tiptoe around the spilled alcohol to sit next to him. His long hair partially covers his face, but you can see the tear stains on his cheeks.

“Jeonghan,” your voice is more firm this time, but still gentle. “What happened? Where’s my mom?”

Your stepdad sniffles and looks up. For a minute, he can’t meet your eyes. Even without the eye contact, you can see how broken he is. It makes something inside you break.

“She’s okay,” he turns to you with that pretty smile of his that you love. Except it doesn’t reach his eyes like usual. “She had a little too much to drink so I laid her down in the guest room.”

You’re sure he’s talking about the one downstairs—the one she’s been sleeping in lately.

“You still didn’t answer my question.” You say, needing to know what happened.

Jeonghan whimpers, and you can’t resist the urge to hug him. He closes his eyes as more tears stream down his face. Your stepdad gently buries his face in your neck as you press your body against him, not caring that you’re almost on his lap. All you can think about is comforting him.

“Your mom wants a divorce,” Jeonghan croaks against your wet skin. “She–She—there’s someone else, and I—”

He cuts himself off with a quiet sob, and your heart just breaks for him. Part of you suspected it. Your mom was the one who would come home late or not at all sometimes. She would often accuse your stepdad of having an affair, but now you just know she was projecting her wrongdoings onto him. It makes you feel sick because even though she’s your mom, Jeonghan didn’t deserve that.

“I’m so sorry,” you say sincerely, stroking his back like he often did to you when you were upset.

As you comfort him, he slips his arms around you and presses you closer to him. An electrifying sensation courses through you when you become aware of how close you two are.

Urges that you’ve tried so hard to push to the depths of your mind suddenly rush forward, and now you can’t stifle them or pretend they don’t exist. Especially now that you’ve realized that your mom doesn’t deserve such a wonderful man.

So, you throw away every scrap of morality you have left in you and give into your depraved desires.

Jeonghan lets out a shocked noise when you push him back on the couch and straddle him. His eyes go wide and his mouth drops open in awe. You grin when he doesn’t immediately push you off, taking it as a sign to swoop down for a kiss.

He softly moans into your mouth, overwhelmed by how warm and soft you are. Jeonghan whimpers as tears keep streaming down his face, trembling when you pull away from him.

“It’s okay, daddy,” you purr in his ear, grinding your dampening cunt against his growing bulge. “Let me take care of you.”

Jeonghan shakes his head, hands slowly settling on your waist as if he wants to push you away. Except he doesn’t.

Instead, he lets you stay on his lap. Your stepdad doesn’t try to stop you even as you move in closer and start to undo his pants. He can easily push you off, but he doesn’t. Not even when you reach into his underwear to palm his growing cock. He’s hard. Really fucking hard.

“Wait, baby—” the pet name falls easily, and you love it.

“Shh, daddy,” you coo as you take him out of his pants. “Just let me touch you. Let me make you feel better.”

“Oh, god,” Jeonghan mewls when you start to stroke him.

Your stepdad’s cock is long and thick and oozing with precum. You lick your lips as you slowly move your hand, eyes trained on Jeonghan’s pretty face. You can tell he feels guilty, and you don’t blame him. He’s such a good guy that he wouldn’t want to hurt your mom, even after everything she’s done to him.

“We… we shouldn’t do this,” Jeonghan protests weakly.

When you get off his lap, he fights a whine even though he knows it’s for the best. Once again you surprise him by slipping out of your clothes and getting back on top of him. His pupils are blown wide when he sees your bare tits and cute pussy.

“Honey,” Jeonghan’s voice has gone deeper, eyes fixed on your body. “This is wrong.”

You ignore him because his cock is twitching and standing to attention. Gently, you cradle the back of his head and press his face to your chest. Your warm tits envelop him, and he’s delirious. You smell so good that it makes his brain fuzzy. Jeonghan feels his cock twitch when you reach for it again, and this time he doesn’t try to stop you.

“Please, daddy,” you beg as you glide your slick cunt over his throbbing cock. “I need your cock. Need it so fucking bad.”

A deep groan escapes him because you feel so warm and wet. Jeonghan just knows you’ll feel so good wrapped around his cock.

“You deserve my little pussy,” you whisper in his ear, pressing down harder on him. “Deserve to fuck someone who won’t ever make you feel so terrible.”

“God, baby,” Jeonghan grunts when he feels your dripping pussy nudging the head of his cock. His resolve is weak, and he doesn’t want to fight it anymore.

His moan syncs with yours when you slowly sink down on his cock. Your little cunt is so hot and tight. Jeonghan can’t think about things like guilt because he feels too fucking good. A nice, wet pussy wrapped around his neglected cock, sucking him in and squeezing him just right. He’s been so lonely and miserable lately that you feel like absolute heaven to him.

“Such a naughty little girl,” Jeonghan growls when you start to rock in his lap. You tighten around him and hold on to the back of his head when you start to bounce.

“Daddy,” you whimper as your juices coat his cock.

Jeonghan’s lips brush against your nipples as your bounces grow more eager. You clench around his fat cock when his weeping tip brushes against your sweet spot. Your stepdad lets out a mixture of a groan and a wail of pleasure as you keep riding him.

You’re lost in pleasure with the feeling of your stepdad’s hard cock twitching and throbbing inside you. It turns you on that he’s strong enough to push you off of him, but never attempts to. You cry out loudly when his hands curl around your waist to help you fuck his cock the way he likes it.

Jeonghan’s lidded gaze is focused on where you two are connected, watching as his cock disappears in and out of your little pussy with every rough bounce. He feels his balls start to tighten with his impending release. Never in his life has he felt so turned on. The way his stepdaughter is just using his cock like a toy is just driving him closer to the edge.

“Daddy,” you purr in Jeonghan’s ear. “You like my pussy better than my mom’s, don’t you?”

You already have your answer from the way he twitches and throbs inside you, his cock answering for him. It makes you happier than you expect. Of course, it would be you. Your pussy was made for him, and you’ll make sure he feels the same way by the end of the night.

“Fuck yeah I do,” Jeonghan groans as his hands go down to squeeze your ass. “Love this little princess cunt.”

You cry out loudly as your orgasm abruptly hits, coating his cock and balls with your essence. “Fuck, daddy! It’s yours! Only yours! You can have this princess pussy every day!”

Your fucked out moans do their job in pushing Jeonghan over the edge. He grips your hips and flips you under him, buries his head in your shoulder and frantically fucks you into the couch as he starts to spill his cum inside you. Lewd squelching fills the air as you happily wrap your legs around him and meet his thrusts to help him fuck his cum deeper inside you.

The both of you are panting by the time you’re done, but your stepdad makes no move to get off of you.

“Don’t think we’re done, little girl,” his voice is ravenous. “Daddy’s not letting you off this cock until you’re nice and stretched out.”

That’s how you end up on the bed he shares with your mother, face down and ass up as you beg for his cock. Jeonghan smirks, eyes trained on your sloppy hole. You look so hot like this, and he knows that he won’t ever let you go after tonight.

“What a nasty slut,” Jeonghan says, palms smoothing over the globes of your ass to keep you still. “Dripping all over my sheets. You want daddy’s cock that bad, honey?”

You whine and arch your back some more. “I need it!”

“Yeah?” You can tell he’s smirking. “Do you even care that your mom might wake up and see what a nasty slut her daughter is?”

You shake your head, pussy clenching around nothing. “Just want daddy’s cock in my little pussy.”

“Don’t worry, little girl,” Jeonghan groans as he kneels behind you. “Daddy’s going to stuff this needy hole and cover it with his cum.”

“Please!”

You cry out when Jeonghan shoves his thick cock into your clenching pussy. He bottoms out in a single thrust since you’re already so wet from when you rode him earlier. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, whining his name when you feel his balls slap against your clit.

“Oh, fuck,” your stepdad hisses. “Your little princess pussy keeps sucking me in, honey.”

Jeonghan spanks your ass. You moan loudly and clench down on his aching cock. “Mhm, just needed daddy’s cock to fill you up, huh?”

“Yes, daddy, yes!” You moan into his sheets.

The thick musk of sex fills the air as Jeonghan pulls his twitching cock out of you halfway only to slam it back into your needy cunt. You squeal and tighten around him when you feel him spread your ass and gently trace your asshole. His thumb slips down to gather juices from your dripping pussy and slides it back up to your asshole, gently pushing past the taut muscle. Your pussy clamps down on his dick hard, making him moan loudly.

“Can’t wait to break in this tight little hole too,” Jeonghan’s voice is thick with lust. “Gonna train you to take daddy’s cock in every hole.”

You moan and bounce back against him, cunt pulsing around his cock as his thumb slips in and out of your clenching rim. “Daddy!”

Jeonghan laughs in delight. “Sounds like you like it.”

You nod your head, and Jeonghan fucks into you harder, balls slapping against your sloppy cunt with every rough thrust. “God, you’re fucking tight.”

He groans when your sweet little pussy clenches around him again.

“Feels so fucking good, daddy,” you say as your eyes roll to the back of your head. “Love your big cock.”

You cry out in pleasure when his hand pulls away from your ass to slip his fingers over your hip to pinch and rub your sensitive clit.

“Is my little girl already cock drunk?” Jeonghan is way too pleased when you deliriously nod your head with a fucked out mewl.

You’re fucking perfect. It makes him wish he would’ve done this sooner.

“My pretty little slut,” Jeonghan coos adoringly. “Just a sweet little hole to dump my load into. Isn’t that right, baby?”

You shiver and meet his thrusts with more vigor, “Yes! Stuff my little hole full of your cum, daddy!”

“Fucking shit,” Jeonghan hisses as he grabs your hair and yanks you backward to give you a sloppy kiss.

His hips never stop, only snapping harder against you.

“I’ll give it to you, honey. Daddy’s going to cream your hot little cunt all night long.”

You mewl in satisfaction when your head is shoved back into the mattress as you keep getting railed hard. Wet slapping fills the room as your stepdad continues spearing you open on his cock. The smell of sex permeates the room as Jeonghan keeps using your body for his pleasure.

“Daddy’s close, baby,” Jeonghan groans.

You moan loudly. “Gonna cum, daddy!”

You’re moaning so loud now, and you don’t really care that your mom might wake up and come upstairs to catch her husband fucking you raw. All you can care about is how good you feel. You grind your pussy down on your stepdad’s throbbing cock while his fingers rub fast circles on your puffy clit.

“Yeah? Do it, honey.” Jeonghan leans forward to bite your shoulder. “Cream on me. Want to feel your juices all over my cock.”

His cock pistons in and out of your hot cunt, ramming against your g-spot repeatedly until all you can do is chant his name. You’re a moaning mess at this point, only caring about the white-hot pleasure you’re feeling.

“Gonna cum!” You slur out, drool dripping on the mattress.

“Cum for daddy, baby. Cum all over this cock.”

With those commanding words, Jeonghan spanks your cunt hard, palm coming down on your clit over and over until you’re screaming out in pleasure. It’s not long before your orgasm hits. Slick gushes out around his cock as he keeps fucking into that spongy spot and spanking your pussy. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as liquid spurts from your pussy and coats his cock and balls, making a mess all over the sheets.

It feels like electricity is coursing through your body from how intense you cum. Your fingers and toes curl in on themselves as your cunt pulses and clenches down on his cock.

“Fuck yes,” Jeonghan growls, as he keeps pounding into your fluttering pussy. “Didn’t know you were a squirter, little girl. So fucking sexy.”

It only takes a few more thrusts for him to bury himself deep inside your cunt and release his hot load inside you. Thick spurts of cum fill you up as he moans your name like it’s something holy. Jeonghan fucks his cum deeper inside you, making no move to slip out of your spent pussy.

However, you’re not done. Far from it, actually.

Jeonghan quickly flips you on your back, one hand on your hip and his other on your thigh. He’s spreading you open and holding you down as he starts to roll his hips into you. A deep groan leaves his mouth every time you clench down on him.

“Da—addy!” You cry out at a particularly sharp thrust that slams against your sweet spot and has you clenching violently around him, teetering on the edge already.

Jeonghan smirks, loving what a cock hungry slut you are. Not that he’s any better. He’s already addicted to your sweet little cunt.

“I know, honey, I know,” he coos in a sickly sweet voice as he continues to fuck you deep and hard. “Daddy’s cock feels good, huh?”

You nod stupidly, all coherent thoughts long gone from your mind. “Uh-huh. Feels so—so good!”

Jeonghan spits on your pussy as you grasp the sheets underneath you. You’re dripping all over him, making an obscene squelching noise every time his cock hits deep inside your tight pussy. He loves the way your pretty pussy opens up to let his aching cock inside. The way you grip him is the hottest sight he’s ever seen, and he knows nothing will ever compare.

“Daddy,” you mewl, barely able to think.

The only thing on your mind is that you want him to cum inside you again. You can’t voice your thoughts because an orgasm rocks your body all over again. Jeonghan laughs delightedly, loving how you keep wetting his dick with your orgasms.

“Dirty little girl,” he growls, bullying his cock into you harder than before. “Making such a mess on daddy’s cock.”

You mewl again, “I need…”

“Need what, baby?” Jeonghan coaxes as he starts to rub slow circles on your throbbing clit. “Say it. Tell daddy what you need, honey.”

“N-Need you to—!” His voice is so sweet that all you can do is break off into another moan. Your pussy tightens and stains his cock with more cream. All you can smell is sex and Jeonghan’s cologne. It only pushes you close to the edge once again.

Jeonghan laughs softly and fucks into you just a little harder, “You need me to...? Use your words, little girl. Daddy can’t give you what you want if you don’t tell him. Better hurry before your mom wakes up and finds you getting fucked like the nasty whore you are.”

That won’t happen, but you don’t need to know that. Although he can tell the thought of your mom catching you in their bed, fucking like animals, turns you on.

“Cum inside me, daddy. Please.”

Your words are slightly slurred and completely fucked out, and Jeonghan bites his lip before smirking down at you. There’s no way he can deny you his seed, especially when you’re asking him so nicely.

“There you go, honey. Take all of daddy’s cum like a good little slut.”

You and Jeonghan moan together when he spills his hot cum inside you. He fucks it into you like the last two times, loving how your tight pussy flutters and pulses around him. You’re such a good girl that you thank him repeatedly through a moan.

The rest of the night you two fuck in every position possible. Jeonghan is insatiable, and you’re tired and completely fucked out before he even thinks about letting you off his cock.

Jeonghan has your back pressed against his chest, a strong arm wrapped around your neck as he pounds you into his mattress. All of your previous orgasms leak on the sheets beneath you as you cry and gasp from the overstimulation. It all feels so good, but you don’t think you can handle any more.

“Daddy,” you whimper pathetically. “C-Can’t cum anymore.”

It feels like your head is starting to spin as his cock splits your pussy open. Jeonghan pounds into your g-spot relentlessly, cock swelling when he sees the tears streaming down your face. His cock twitches and throbs because despite your words, you’re still moving your hips to meet his thrusts.

Your stepdad smirks meanly. “Is that why you keep rutting against me like a nasty slut, little girl?”

You cry out when Jeonghan releases you and sits up to roughly smack your ass. He repeats the harsh motion until you’re screaming in pleasure. Your cunt clenches around him, hips involuntarily bucking back in an attempt to force his fat dick deeper into your tiny little pussy. It’s like an automatic reaction, but your stepdad loves it.

“Just lay there and let daddy breed you, honey,” Jeonghan growls when you give him another weak orgasm. He groans and smacks your ass as he forces the juices out of your soiled cunt with every snap of his hips. “Be a good cock sleeve for me.”

“Want it so bad, daddy!” You cry out, pussy fucked raw yet still so desperate for another one of his hot loads. “Breed me like the slut I am.”

“Want you to scream for me, baby.” Jeonghan moans as his head falls back. He pounds into your hot cunt harder, gripping your hips tighter as he chases his orgasm, using your pussy to get himself off. “Let your mother know how much you love your stepdad’s cock.”

“DADDY!” You scream at the top of your lungs, almost hoping your mom will walk upstairs and see her husband stuffing you full of cum on their marital bed.

Jeonghan cries out as his balls tighten up. His moan is loud as you cry out in pleasure, your pussy involuntarily giving him a fifth orgasm as he spills rope after rope of cum into your sopping pussy. He fucks you nice and deep, whispering filthy praises in your ear the entire time.

Your stepdad lets out a low hiss as he pulls his softening cock out of your sloppy pussy. He licks his lips and forces his cum back in with three of his fingers, pressing so deep into you that his wedding band touches your puffy little pussy lips, making you whine.

“Such a good little girl,” Jeonghan coos as he fingers his cum back into your pussy with a filthy smirk. “My pretty little slut.”

You’re completely fucked out, feeling completely satiated as you slump into the bed. You mewl softly when Jeonghan pulls you into his arms and starts to rub soothing circles on your pussy.

“Sleep, baby. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

He presses a gentle kiss on your temple, and just like that you’re out like a light.

Jeonghan smirks into your hair when your breathing evens out and you fall into a deep sleep. There’s no better feeling than knowing his plan worked perfectly.

Admittedly, your mom played a significant role. With her insecure and angry personality, it was easy to make himself look like the victim. Faking the maudlin expressions and crushed spirit was easy enough, especially since you’ve always been so empathetic. Getting his wife to stay out all night was easy since he always lied and told her he’d be at the bar. She went looking for him every single time not knowing he was at home, fucking his fist to the thought of you.

And then there was the final act.

Inviting his unsuspecting wife for a drink was easy enough. Despite all of the fighting, she still wanted to have Jeonghan to herself. She couldn’t have known that he spiked her drink so he could stage the perfect tragedy. It worked perfectly since you didn’t think twice about believing him.

Everything has worked out as he hoped, and now all he has to think of is the future with his true beloved. You.

[kkukverse]

Put Your head On My Shoulder - drabble

Pair : husband!jk x wife!reader

wordcount : 2.6k

warning : sex scenes.

summary: Romantic dinner night gone wrong, and definitely right, too.

notes: just a short drabble for my cute couple. you can either read Put Your Head On My Shoulder first, or after this.

And they say romance is dead.

Not when your husband is dutifully taking you from behind. His sweaty body engulfing you as he keeps ramming his hips, the sounds of skins slapping vibrating in the whole house. Tomorrow would be a challenge to duck away from the neighbors before you go to work. You swear his sex drive lately is breaking the roof.

He was even wilder than when you were dating. Now with the ring on your finger and he is obsessed in claiming you every damn time he can. 

Jungkook is well aware of his high libido, and he is proud of his own body too. Gym hours are paying off, especially during this session. Cocky? Of course, when his body is well built only to be presented to you. His sturdy chest rose up and down with every deep breath he took, his long and strong legs planted firmly on the floor. 

The muscles on his thighs tense and abs clenching with how fast he moves his hips. Plummeting you forward with every push before he pulls you back on his cock, bending by the bed. Your hair sprawls as your face is completely smashed on the soft sheets. 

The white sheets. This one gotta go because it is completely ruined now. Stains of sweat and cum and drool are decorating the pristine white sheets and it was partially your fault. You adore white bedding set. They’re soft! 

But him, by the way he growls just now after you make a mess on them, you guessed he’s fine with any color as long as he can see the stain marks that were caused by you because of him. The sheet is crumpled and rustling from how hard you’re fisting them, a sign of how he’s doing an amazing job with you.

“Jung -nghhh- kook. Shit shit shit, babe slow down,” your whines were unfortunately muffled into the bed. He grunts and moans so loud, they’re drowning your pleads. 

Another sharp thrust makes you sob. Your face is facing sideways with whines begging incoherently to him. Not sure if you’re pleading for him to keep moulding his cock into your cunt, or to slow his pace because, honestly your mind is hazy. You’re sure he can’t understand you either. 

At this point all you can see is the bliss that you’re about to reach for the fourth time. A smack on your left buttcheek makes you jolt. Maybe he did hear you after all. He always did. As rough as he is right now, he is always attentive to you. Putting your needs first. Kneading the area that he smacked just now before he landed another one. Because that’s what you need and he knows it. 

The shades of your ass are already crimson and the two additional smacks did nothing but arouse him even more. Throwing his head back as his huge hand is gripping your delicate waist while the other one is roughly squeezing your ass. The marks of his hands are exactly where they belong.    

“So good baby, your ass is the best thing ever, thank god they’re mine. Right, baby?” He chuckles deeply. Only receiving chanted yes from you. He smiles triumphantly. Hands still gripping possessively, before he rubs the abused area. Gazing down on you like a predator on his prey.

He was moaning hard when his eyes landed on your face scrunching in pleasure. 

“Fuck,” he chocked. The way your brows knitted so hard, shutting your eyes tightly, mouth wide open as your sob in sync with every thrusts from him. Concentrating on reaching your climax. Beads of sweat on your forehead didn’t go unnoticed, he flopped down on your body. Littering kisses on your head softly, in contrast with the hardness of his cock pistoning in and out of your warm cunt.  

“Come on baby, one more time, ” Jungkook grunts from behind you. His fingers tucking away your hair that are sticking to your face. Slowing down his pace, he coaxes you. His other hand reaching for yours, fingers intertwining to ground you back to him. He fucks you real dumb this time. 

You’re not even realizing that your face is wet with not only sweat but also tears. They’re good tears and both of you know it. Sex with Jungkook will always be mind blowing to the point that it is normal when you’re crying. Jungkook can never get used to it though. He knows you, he memorized every inch of you, in and out. So, when he’s the one that makes you cry - even from pleasure - his heart hummed in worry. Kissing messily on your swollen lips as he is too focused on slowing down his abuse on your sensitive cunt. A mission that is so hard for him but anything for you. 

“Fuck,” you sobs even louder now, teeth gritting as he drags his cock so slowly, agonizing you even more. Since you can feel everything, from every rigged of his big cock, the veins that bulge, teasingly poking your spot, to the girth that deliciously stretches you open. 

Entering and leaving your fluttering lips but your cunt fights to keep it in. Sucking it back and clenching hard like a vice making his knees jerk. Planting his hand back on the bed. Supporting his weight because he doesn't want to crush you. “Baby,” he breathes. Now it’s his eyes that are shut tight.

“Move faster Kook, please, please, please,” you begged. Shamelessly whining like a brat by pushing your hip back to his. Wiggling your ass so you can fit him snugly in between your walls. He huffed loudly, getting all riled up at the way your jiggly ass is greedy. Biting his lower lips he pulls you up in one swift motion. “Ahhh- babe,” you whined and your hands struggled, reaching on to something to hold on. The pulls make his cock hit so deep, so sudden into you and your legs are failing you right now. Finally your hands landed on his arms that are wrapped around the middle part of your body protectively. 

“I love you baby, I fucking love you. So much, so much,” he chanted. 

His lips are back on your neck, biting the blossoming bruises, lapping on each mark he left. An act to distract you. His cock is still inside you, still rock hard. You swear you can feel it’s pulsating and twitching even when it’s too fit in your tight hole. Big dick husband? Fucking checked! You don’t even know how in the hell he is still hard after he’s been ramming you since forever. 

Coming home after work and seeing him cooking butt naked with only an apron to cover his manhood was a complete surprise. He was so busy chopping something and you don’t give a damn about anything else, eyes fixed on his plump yet firm ass. 

It was like your breath was taken away, the only sound that escaped your lips was a soft choke, so soft he didn’t even notice you’re behind him. You leaned closer silently before you pinched his ass. The moment he turns around, you instantly crush your lips onto his. Not even flinched at the sound of the knife that was slammed on the board. The heated lips clashing then lead you to not only one, not just two but three orgasms.  

The two of you now are facing each other as you sit on his lap. He moved you around as he sat down on the edge of the bed.

His cock is still buried inside you, balls deep with the way you’re chest to chest. His hands are rubbing mindlessly on your back while yours are busy with his hair, another makeout session to cool down before he goes at it again at full force. 

“Turn around baby, look at yourself,” he hums to you. In between biting your lower lips and sucking your tongue. You raised an eyebrow because you’re crazy comfortable now, the two of you can finish like this.

“Why,” you whined, pulling your lips to fully look at him.

“Because baby, you have to see how sinful you look right now. See yourself like how I'm seeing you right now,” he grins devilishly. Hands on your waist, pulling you so effortlessly before he set you back on his cock. Your back is facing him and without a beat he panted his lips at the juncture of your shoulder and your neck. 

“You’re so damn beautiful, baby. I can’t believe you’re all fucking mine,” he voice went low as his dark eyes looking at you through the mirror, devouring your whole figure.

Your eyes are rolling backward at the majestic view of your whole body, reflecting from the ceiling to floor mirror. The huge mirror was the reason why he insisted on buying this house. This is the purpose. To see you completely bare with your thighs quivering, the crotch that is glistening with your cum, his saliva and precum mixing together. He ate you so ferociously, sending you into another dimension just a moment ago. 

“So fucking wet, baby,” he whines, biting your shoulder. He is so close now. After being strained himself watching you orgasm three times, his cock is so hard and angry red. Begging for sweet release. But this is Jungkook, he wants more.

“Another one baby, cum again on my cock. Please,” his croaking voice whispers close to your ears as he lets you set your own pace riding him. Grips securely on your waist. 

Your sweaty palms on his thighs, balancing yourself as you diligently bounce up and down his shaft. You are now very determined to bring him to heaven. The telltale sign of him is close are his ragged breath, and he is starting to whine as he can get so vocal the closer he is to cumming. 

Jungkook is going crazy when he is looking at how you work so hard and you get even wetter with this position. Was it because of the mirror? Damn, he should’ve known this sooner. “Come on baby, that’s my good babygirl.” His cock is really about to burst if he doesn't cum now. 

At his praise you clench so hard, earning a deep guttural whine from him. 

“Baby, baby babygirl fuck,” he gruff, taking turn in slamming into you, “baby,l you gotta cum now,” he is moving so hard and fast, the reflection of his cock disappearing into you is blurring from the reflection. But the sight drives you so wild, trashing as you’re one step closer to cumming. He suddenly flick your clit with his thumb and the knot in your belly just snapped.

“Koo, ahhh- I’m cumming!” You screamed at the overstimulation. Hand moves back to grab his hair. 

“Me too, babygirl, me too. Let’s do it together baby, fuck, fuck, fuck!” He growls, as your walls clench sporadically on his cock. His rhythm falters as he is chasing his climax. Blowing his loads deep into your pussy. Jets of cums keep shooting until it spills when he moves his shaft, milking everything.

“Oh, babe I love you. So many cum,” you sobs. 

“I love you too. They’re saved for you baby, yours only,” he chuckles. The two of you are still on cloud nine but he holds you safely on his lap. 

Out of nowhere a beeping sound jolted the both of you. You look at him questioningly through the mirror and before he can react your nose catches on smoky smells. Your cat is meowing.

“Holy shit!” He gently moves you from his lap before he bolts out of the room, still butt naked, dick is still so freshly wet. You were left dumbfounded on the bed, immediately grab his oversize shirt. 

In the span of milliseconds in between him running out of the bedroom to the second when you put on the shirt all you heard was a screaming from him and clutter of something falling. 

“Jungkook?!” You panicky calling for him as you can’t see clearly, there’s smoke in the house! Something is burning! You ran to the source of his desperate wailing. Your eyes went wide at him crouching on the floor. The chicken in the pan is on the floor as well and the sauce splatters to the lower cabinets. Your main attention is Jungkook as he is grunting and screaming.

“Babe, what the fuck happened? Jungkook!” You kneel next to him, pulling his body to see if he’s hurted himself. His hands are clasped on his manhood. 

“Baby, my dick!!!” Jungkook sobs. His face scrunching in pain. Eyes shut tight. 

“What?!” You screamed back at him. The smoke isn’t helping either as the smoke detector keeps beeping. It’s so loud. You grabbed the napkin as you swatted it around to blow away the smoke. 

The beeping stopped but your husband is still in pain. Your eyes soon caught the open oven and your mind is connecting the dots. 

“Jeon Jungkook! Did you open the oven with your dick out like that?!” You were trying so hard not to laugh because he’s in pain but he is such an idiot. Of course the steam will rush out when you open it and he is dumb enough to flash his dick at the oven. Inviting his own torture. 

“Baby! It's not funny. It burns!” He cried. You on the other hand is, muffling your own laugh with your hand, failing miserably. You helped him up to lay on the couch. Going back to the kitchen to wet a clean napkin. 

“Put this on your dick,” you instruct him. Even if it is so hilarious, you have to take care of him now. 

“Put it on for me. It burns, please,” he pouted. Where was the Jungkook that rammed you with no mercy just now? Who is this kid? Rolling your eyes, you gently soothe the area by wiping the cold napkin. 

“Are you feeling okay now?” You asked him. Your free hand wipes away the sweat on his forehead, fingers softly running through his hair. He even styled his hair today, aww but you ruined it.

“I was planning on making you a romantic dinner,” his lower lip jutted out childishly. Sulking because his plan didn’t work out the way he wanted. “Not making a mess and burning my dick,” he continued with an even softer voice. He hates making mistakes, but Jungkook is just very sensitive. He puts his heart into everything, especially for his wife. 

“Okay, I’m gonna stop you right there.” You face him, “first of all, thank you baby you’re so sweet for preparing dinner for me, second, you just blew my mind away in our bedroom just now. We need to focus on you now, and your little friend here.” You pointed. Smiling at him but his eyes are still downcast. 

“But it’s supposed to be a romantic dinner, it’s different,” he mumbles.

“C’mon Kook, don’t be discouraged. Everyday is romantic when I’m with you.” You bopped his nose. His eyes are slowly growing big at your words. 

“Really?” he asked. 

You laughed at him acting all shy now, when he is naked on the couch and you’re literally rubbing wet napkins on his dick. His big body doesn’t even match with the pouting face he is sporting right now. 

“Yes, you silly,” you kissed him. A meowing was heard as the cat was staring at you from his napping spot. 

“Turn away! Momma and daddy are busy,” Jungkook pointed his finger to your cat, as if the cat understands.

[tossawary]

I've been toying with a "third transmigrator" AU for SVSSS in which the third transmigrator is a teenage girl who ends up in Luo Binghe. This teenage girl tried to read PIDW because someone else liked it, but didn't get far because she didn't like it.

Disinclined to follow the plot, the teenage girl decides to transition, because fuck it (crying breakdown), she doesn't want to be a guy. Ning Yingying is initially the only one in on it (and then some Qian Cao Peak people). This new Luo Binghe knows JUST enough about the plot of PIDW to avoid Shen Qingqiu's attention as much as possible and so swears Ning Yingying to secrecy regarding the transition. She intends to hide it until the Transmigration System lets up on the missions and restrictions a little.

Meanwhile, Shen Yuan is like, "How am I supposed to improve my relationship with the protagonist if i never see him? Did he just jump out a window to avoid me?! Also, hmph, the bullies are all calling him 'Luo-Shimei' now? Just because he's pretty??? I had better go tell them off for it!"

(Shen Qingqiu, please, your students are getting the impression that you're transphobic!!!)

If Luo Binghe's transition comes out before the Immortal Alliance Conference, Shen Yuan is going to 1) think it's his own fault somehow and 2) be more than a little weird (and a little transphobic) about it.

Shen Yuan (internally): "Oh, shit, NOT abusing the protagonist turned him into a girl??? How does that work???"

The endgame relationship here is a messy love triangle between Luo Binghe, Ning Yingying, and Ming Fan. Ming Fan is like, "What do you do when the shidi you hate falls down the stairs and nearly dies, and then apparently can't remember you used to bully him and expects you to be a good shixiong, and becomes best friends with the girl you like but also starts turning into a cute girl too??? But you can't tell Shizun any of this otherwise the girl you like will kill you???" Ning Yingying is like, "I was so caught up in the thrill of makeovers and having a new sister that I forgot to examine why, when she's approached by guys, I want to tear their throats out with my teeth. Ming-Shixiong is not good enough for A-Luo!!!" And Luo Binghe is like, "Wow, Ning Yingying is such a good friend. And so pretty. I could stare into her eyes for hours. Ming Fan is kind of a jerk sometimes, but he's cute, I guess. He needs to shape up if he wants to win Ning Yingying's heart someday! She married a guy, so she's definitely into guys."

This third transmigrator isn't paying too much attention to their own love life partially because they're too busy 1) trying to survive, 2) trying to do right by their friends, and 3) trying to figure out if Shen Qingqiu and Liu Qingge are in a "toxic yaoi relationship" and, if so, which one of them tops more frequently and where Yue Qingyuan fits into things.

If you haven't guessed yet, this third transmigrator is actually Shen Yuan's younger sister, who transmigrated at like 16 years old at the oldest. This identity reveal comes out at the Immortal Alliance Conference, seconds before disaster (the push into the Endless Abyss), and no earlier. It does not go well. The Transmigration System is mostly to blame.

Live Shang Qinghua Reaction: "Oh, fucking yikes, bro."

This Luo Binghe hands a lot of control over to Meng Mo to get out of the Endless Abyss. An inadvisable amount of control, really, even if Meng Mo is soft on the girl. Afterwards, they sort of stumble into the arms of Huan Hua Palace. Shen Yuan's sister did not read far enough to know pretty much anything about this sect, especially not that it's a terrible idea to be here while being both a Heavenly Demon and (post-transition) looking like even MORE of an identical clone of Su Xiyan.

(Tianlang-Jun and Zhuzhi-Lang ARE both going to be kind of awful and weird about it, yes, at least initially.)

Gongyi Xiao, after showing basic kindness to this poor young woman: "Hey, why are those two Qing Jing Peak disciples glaring at me like they want me dead?"

[imtryingbuck]

Choices

~ gif not mine credit to owner ~

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader. past Bucky x fem!Reader x Steve Rogers

Summary: Steve’s in a relationship with reader and Bucky and goes back to Peggy when he comes back he regrets it

Word count: 1,963

Warnings: angst. stupid Steve. pregnancy. fluff. swearing.

Masterlist

Walking into the wooden area that Bruce had the portal set up for Steve to take back the stones, hand in hand with both Bucky and Steve you noticed the brunette giving glances to the blonde to your left, when you gave him a questioning look he just smiled. A smile that looked forced and didn’t reach his eyes.

You should have realised something was wrong when Bucky whispered in your ear to go and talk to Sam whilst he spoke to Steve, you should have noticed the hushed argument between your two boyfriends but you were distracted by Bruce’s explanation of the portal and Sam’s million questions.

You should have realised something was wrong when Steve kissed you deeply or when Bucky only gave him a quick kiss before stepping back to be behind you instead.

Or that his last words before he disappeared back into the past was ‘I love you’ to you and your other boyfriend.

“Bruce where is he?” You asked nervously as he hadn’t returned.

“I-I‘m not sure”

Looking at Bucky who refused to look at you, finding the twig he was kicking lightly with his foot more interesting. “Buck? Bucky where is he?”

“I-Y/n/n-“

“Bucky”

At Sam’s voice you both turned to face where your closest friend was looking, on a stone bench sat an old man that was most definitely not there to begin with. Sam slowly walked over to the man leaving his friends behind.

“He’s gone back…back to Peggy”

“N-no-no he wouldn’t! James…he-he wouldn’t do that!”

“Baby he’s already done it, I’m so sorry” he hates the way your eyes filled with tears and the way you clutched at your chest.

“B-but why? Did I do something wrong? Was I not good enough for him? It’s my fault Buck, it’s my fault he went back to her and left you”

“God no baby! Baby he didn’t leave because of you I promise you that, I-I don’t know why he left us but we’re not alone we still have each other, right?”

“W-what? You still want to be with me now that St-he’s left”

“Of course I do, I love you just as much as I love him”

“I love you Bucky”

Though you meant every possible meaning of those words you couldn’t help but feel partially to blame for Steve abandoning the brunette in front of you, the same one he fought so hard to save, protect and defended. Steve cried in your arms when he confessed he had feelings not only for you but his longest friend, he was so confused and ashamed, not of his sexuality but at the fact that he was in love with two people at the same time. When you whispered to him that you had fallen for both super soldiers he blushed and gave you the most shyest smile you had ever seen. And unknown to the pair of you, the other missing piece of your hearts was standing outside of Steve’s office. Bucky’s heart soared when he heard his two loves saying that they loved him back.

It took a few weeks after the confessions before you three started dating, none of your friends-family was bothered as long as you were all happy. 

And yes even though Steve hadn’t left Bucky behind in a world where he was still learning how to operate in on his own because he had you and of course Sam but it still upset you, he left the pair of you for some woman who he kissed once, some woman who had moved on with her life - marriage and all, the same woman who had a niece that he kissed a few times. It made no sense to you.

“Baby…Y/n-“

“I need to talk to him, I need to understand why he left us for a woman who told him to move on and be happy, she told him that Buck! I was right there when she said it!”

“I know doll but-shit”

You were already out of his grasp and was walking over to Sam and the old version of your former boyfriend, your feet faltering when you saw Steve handing the shield over to Sam. Shaking your head you stood next to Sam, eyes slanting as you got a proper look at Steve.

“Y/n/n-“

“Are you happy?”

“What?”

“Did she make you happy? Did you have a great life? Did you even think about me and Bucky?”

“Of course I thought about you and Buck, doll you both mean the world to me”

“Did she make you happy?” You repeated the same question.

“Yes” he answered hesitantly with his eyes closed.

“Did you have a great life?”

“Doll-“

“Did you Steven, yes or no?”

He hesitated once again before answering “yes”.

“Good. Good. Well goodbye Steven” 

“Y/n-“ Steve tries to stop you from backing away by reaching out for your hand, with a shake of your head you move away and walk towards Bucky who took your hand in his as soon as you reached him.

Heading back to the home you three once shared not knowing how empty the place was going to feel now it was just the two of you.

The bed felt bigger and colder now that Steve wasn’t cuddled up on the right side of the bed - his side. Every night without fail you three would lay in bed all snuggled up and one by one you said ‘I love you’ Bucky always went first, then you and then Steve but now that he wasn’t lying next to you, you both waited with bated breath for his response which never came.

You found yourself calling out for Steve whenever you heard the front door open and close, only to find Bucky standing there with a frown etched on his face. He was the same though, one day he walked into the kitchen where you were, saying “Stevie, remind me to pick up milk. Steve-shit. Y/n I’m sorry”.

Of course neither one could blame each other, Steve had been a huge part of your day to day life. You both understood that this new life of yours would take time to get used to.

Since he had left you both for Peggy you both started questioning yourselves, wondering if the other was going to leave next. Not that you told each other your worries and doubts, terrified of coming across as needy, insecure. Beyond terrified of thinking that the other would only stay because you had mentioned it.

As the months went by and the seasons changed so had you and Bucky.

Three months after Steve had left, you had settled down in to bed waiting patiently for Bucky to finish his nightly routine, you frowned lightly when you didn’t hear any noise or movements coming from the joint bathroom.

“Buck? Have you fell asleep on the toilet…again? Bucky?” There wasn’t even a grumble of a response, not like last time when he had gone into the bathroom to do his nightly routine and Steve ended up going to check on him, the blonde bit his lip to stop himself from laughing he went back into the bed room to get Y/n, going back into the bathroom together they saw Bucky in his pjs sitting on the toilet fast asleep. It was lucky that Steve also had the serum because he was able to carry Bucky to bed.

Getting out of bed you went to check on him, frowning when you saw him standing in front of the mirror holding something in his hands. “Buck?”

“I-I found this” this being Steve’s razor. “I-he left us Y/n/n”

“I know bub, I know.” Your heart ached when he turned to face you with tears in his eyes. Seeing Bucky cry was something that always tugged painfully at your heart, he had gone through so much pain in his long life it wasn’t fair for him to be still going through it all because Steve decided he wanted a fantasy instead.

“I-it isn’t fair baby”

Finally getting Bucky to put the razor down after twenty minutes of trying, you managed to get him into bed, he clung to your body tightly whispering how much he loves you. He fell asleep hearing your voice softly telling him how much he means to you, how much love you have for him.

You decided it was time to move out of the apartment and find somewhere new to call home after that night. It wasn’t long until you both found a forever home. Plus you needed to find a bigger place as you had found out that you were pregnant two weeks prior.

For five years you and Bucky lived in the perfect haven, a four bedroom cottage with a few acres of land behind it that Bucky absolutely loved tending to. Bucky had built his own greenhouse with the help from Sam, he was so proud of everything he had grew in there ranging from cucumbers to tomatoes to potatoes and everything in between, the chillies however weren’t turning out like he wanted which made him a little defeated.

He loved his greenhouse. It became his happy place.

Whilst you and Bucky were getting your four year old twins sons and one year old daughter ready for a fun day of activities Sam was standing at his front door staring at someone who he thought he would never see again.

“What are you doing here?”

“Are Y/n and Bucky here?”

“No. Again what are you doing here?”

“W-where are they?”

“Steve, what are you doing back?”

Sighing, looking down whilst placing his hands on his hips “I made a mistake okay, I went to our apartment and someone else answered told me that they had been living there for four years, so I came here”

“Why? You can’t really expect to leave your partners whilst living a fantasy just to come back five years later.”

“It was a mistake, I miss them, it’s them I love”

“But you didn’t love them enough to stay, right?” Sam retorts, wanting to laugh at the man who didn’t just abandon his partners he claims to love but also him.

“I-I made a mistake okay Sam! Just tell me where they are so I can explain to them”

“I don’t think thats a good idea”

“Why not?” The blond snapped.

“Because they’ve moved on from you Steve, they moved on.”

“B-but I can make it right between us, please Sam”

“You can’t just show up and-“

“Please Sam!”

“Fine, but just remember that I did tell you that they’ve moved on.” Sam told him the address and slammed the door in the man’s face, rushing to grab his phone to ring his friends.

The car pulled to a slow stop outside the gate, checking the number on the mailbox he got out of the car he had “borrowed”. His heart twitched at hearing children’s laughter ringing out in the summer evening, walking up the driveway his heart dropped at the scene in front of him.

Due to both Bucky and your phones being inside neither one received the many miss calls or messages from Sam to warn you both about the man who broke both of your hearts was on his way to yours, you didn’t know that he was standing at the side of the house watching you and Bucky playing happily with your children.

Steve smiled sadly seeing what he had missed out on for a fantasy like Sam had said. Slowly walking back to the car a few stray tears fell from his eyes.

He only had himself to blame for his heart aching the way it did by making the worst choice of his life.

Tags: @imcinnamoons | @pigeonmama

[quickestgold]

Goodbye, My Lover | Part 3 | The Pitt

Pairing: Dr. Jack Abbot x Dr. (Ex-Mil)!Reader x Dr. Michael 'Robby' Robinavitch

Chapter 3: I Forgive You

Synopsis: When you're rushed into the ER with critical injuries, Robby and Jack find themselves in a desperate battle to save the woman they still love. Amidst the chaos, the line between professional duty and personal history blurs.

Warnings: Age gap is around 18 years. This series deals with some heavy themes around a physical attack, death, grief, ptsd, panic attacks, s*icidal tendencies, heartbreak >>> comfort at the end, I promise

Word count: 1222

A/n: Here it is,,, the chapter where what happened is finally revealed. Fyi, the physical attack isn't detailed, but the treatment of the injuries is pretty graphic, so take care if that isn't your kind of thing besties

Previous Chapter (2): Please Forgive Me | Next Chapter (4): Thank You

“Please forgive me”, Jack’s words echo in your ears. You’re still on the pavement, the three of you in an intimate, fragile circle.

You didn’t realize how much guilt Jack still carried with him.

It wasn’t his fault.

“What do you mean, Jack?” Your voice soothing.

He doesn't react.

“For not being there", Robby speaks, for both of them.

Your eyes flicker to Robby’s and it hits you. The day he snapped at you in the ER.

“No”, you cut him off. “This is not your fault,” your tone direct.

“And not mine.” You surprise yourself. Too long you’ve blamed yourself for what that angry patient did, but hearing Jack and Robby take on this burden, feels like a punch to your gut.

Robby takes Dana to the side: “Where’s Y/N?” Worry evident on his face.

“She went to get some air”, Dana answers reluctantly, having overheard the incident earlier.

Robby lets out a guilty groan, eyes shut, twisting his mouth. He scratches the back of his neck, shaking his head ever so slightly, like he usually does when he’s stressed.

“Okay", exhaling softly. "Come find me when she’s back please? I need to apologize.”

“No shit”, Dana huffs.

“Dr. Robby!” Perlah calls from Trauma One, urgency in her voice. And with that he’s off.

Jack watches from a distance, worry growing within him as well. He heads straight for the stairwell. He should have said something.

But when he reaches your spot, all he finds is Dr. Garcia having a smoke with one of her colleagues. It seems like he's interrupted something, awkward tension hangs heavy in the air.

“Has Y/N been up here?” Jack shouts.

“Check the attending’s lounge, that’s her thing isn’t it?” Yolanda provokes.

Jack groans, rushing back down to find Robby. But his search is cut short when EMTs rush in a patient in bad shape. “What have we got?”

“Unconscious, but breathing. Blunt force trauma to the head, suspected rib fractures, possible pneumothorax and significant blood loss”, the EMT reports quickly.

“Trauma Two” Jack commands, his voice sharp and professional, already assessing the damage.

As he works, something catches his eye, the patient’s wrist. A small tattoo is partially visible, just beneath the bloodied sleeve. He pulls it back slightly, to make sure. Praying, begging, that he's wrong.

He isn’t. It’s the same tattoo that decorates his own arm.

Jack freezes. Unable to move a muscle, paralyzed.

His heart races and for a moment, the sterile walls seem to close in on him. It can’t be, but there’s no mistaking the face beneath all the blood.

“Get Robby. Now!” Jack orders, his voice low but urgent. He knows he can’t do this alone. Not when it's you.

Robby enters the room in a rush, ready for another emergency. “Need a hand?” He teases. But the moment his eyes land on you, his entire world stops.

Jack doesn’t say anything, doesn’t dare take his eyes off of you, fearing you might slip away if he does.

“What the fuck happened?” Robby demands, his voice thick with disbelief, as he moves quickly to the side of the gurney.

“We found her in the alley by the back entrance”, the EMT states.

Robby’s mind races, but his training kicks in.

Robby and Jack work in tandem, their movements seamless as they prepare to save you. Jack checks your airway, while Robby begins assessing your chest injuries. Every second is critical, both men struggling to maintain their professionalism.

Their hands move over your exposed form, painfully mirroring the way their fingers used to trail your body when you were together. Every inch of you mapped out and forever burnt into their minds.

Focus. Focus!

“Ribs are displaced”, Robby mutters, his voice tight. “Probable flail chest. We need to drain the pleural cavity.”

Jack nods grimly, his mind running through the necessary procedures. “Collapsed lung, tension pneumothorax most likely." He takes a deep breath, his eyes scanning the monitors. Your heart rate is erratic and your oxygen levels are dangerously low. "Needle decompression first."

Jack presses his fingers along your ribs to locate the entry point. His hands are precise as he performs the procedure, inserting the needle just above your rib. The trapped air escapes immediately.

"Got it", Jack says, a moment of relief, as he watches your chest begin to expand more naturally.

Robby steps back, barking orders, his usual calm demeanor starting to crack. "Prep for intubation. We need to secure the airway."

Jack nods, already setting up the equipment.

Robby checks your pupils, his fingers pressing gently against your neck. "Pulse is weak.”

Jack places the endotracheal tube in, ensuring it’s secured, giving you a few breaths.

Robby moves in with the chest tube, prepared to drain the fluid building up. The tube is inserted and the air begins to flow freely, your breathing starting to stabilize.

"We’ve got a pathway", Robby says, but his voice breaks. He looks at Jack, like a little boy who’s lost their parent in a busy crowd. Willing him to fix this. To fix you.

Without warning, the heart monitor flatlines with a piercing, urgent tone. Jack’s eyes snap to the monitor, heart sinking. "No… No." He moves quickly to your side, checking your pulse. He doesn’t hesitate, positioning himself at your chest.

With practiced urgency, Jack stacks his hands over your sternum. He feels sick, knowing what he’s about to do. He quickly swallows the lump in his throat, using his body weight to compress down, forceful and steady.

The team rushes to prepare the defibrillator.

After a while Robby instructs, “Hold compressions." But the flatline continues.

“Still in asystole”, Donnie states, voice trembling.

Jack resumes compressions seemlessly. Each deep push into your chest feels like a silent plea for you to come back to them.

Sweat begins to pool on Jack’s forehead. Robby motions for him to switch out. Jack complies, as Robby takes over effortlessly. The risk of breaking your ribs sends an icy shiver down his spine, it's brutal and suffocating.

“V-fib. We’ve got a shockable rhythm”, Jack’s firm tone snaps Robby back, all eyes fixed on the monitor. “Charge to 200”, Robby orders.

The machine charges with a loud beeping. “Clear!” Donnie shouts.

Everyone pulls their hands away, as the shock is delivered.

The silence is deafening, everyone collectively holding their breath with you.

The monitor flickers.

Then, a pulse.

Weak, but it’s there. The sound of your heart returning to sinus rhythm.

Finally, Jack allows himself to see you as more than a patient on the table. He studies your face, lightly touching your cheek, cautious not to hurt you any further.

“Stay with us, Y/N", Jack says softly, not daring to look away from your battered body.

“Okay. Let’s take a deep breath. All of us”, Robby speaks calmly, looking directly at Jack.

Everyone takes a slow, necessary breath.

Robby finally dares to look down at you too, his face softening. He leans in, "We’ve got you". Though he knows the fight isn’t over.

Back on the pavement. It feels like you've been out here for a while.

It's not your fault.

Robby takes in your words.

He leans in, placing a gentle hand on Jack’s shoulder. They share a look and you realize that’s how they made it through almost losing you.

Together.

Thanks for reading part 3!! If you’re a healthcare professional, please look awayyy, this is probably full of medical inaccuracies, I'm sorry! The next chapter will focus more on their collective healing… As always, pls share your thoughts below!!

PS: Lmk if you want to be added to the taglist: ♡

@queenslandlover-93 @sp00kylesley @dark-twisted-and-mechanical-mind @sqrlgrl22 @imonmykneessir @gabsgabsvaz @nowandajenn @cannonindeez @sydney-m @persistent-mango

[theemporium]

YAYYYYY I FOUND IT FINALLY

hi love hope ur doing well

can i request 💛and no.16 with lando?

thank u sm i love ur work🤍🤍

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

16. massaging them

.

“Oh fuck, that’s the spot.”

You couldn’t help but snort, the noise joyful and bashful. “Shut up, I have neighbours!”

“Not my fault you’ve got hands crafted by the gods themselves,” Lando retorted, his words slightly muffled by the way he buried his face in one of your pillows. “It feels good. I might have to replace Jon with you.” 

“I’ll pass,” you laughed, shaking your head in amusement even if he couldn’t see. “You seem like a needy client.” 

He let out a high-pitched noise of complaint. “I’m a fucking delight, I’ll have you know.” 

“Yeah, that’s exactly why you barged into my apartment demanding a massage,” you replied, sarcasm dripping from your words. 

It was only partially an exaggeration to the truth. 

With summer break in full swing, it meant that Lando finally had time to relax and step away from the crazy, intense world that is Formula One. It meant he had time to spend with his family and friends that he didn’t usually get during the season, even when they came to race weekends. It meant he could pretend to feel a little normal, even if his life was far from it.

Except for the fact he still had to train like a Formula One driver. 

Which he was insistent he could do without the help of Jon. He insisted the man deserved a break of his own, to enjoy his vacation before they had to return to Woking later in the month. He insisted he would be able to follow his routine without the man watching over him. 

And he could do it. He just forgot the aftermath of it all, which was how he came storming into your apartment after his latest workout, whining and complaining about how stiff and sore he felt. And somewhere in his complaining, you agreed to do Jon’s job for him. 

“People don’t complain this much about helping their friends,” Lando commented, turning his head to the side so his cheek was squished against your pillow and his words were no longer muffled.

“People also don’t sound like they are filming a bad porno when they are getting a massage,” you shot back, finding some pleasure in the way Lando’s cheeks burned pink at your words. 

“Please,” he huffed out, clearing his throat in bed. He tried to stay light-hearted, playful, jokey. He tried to focus on the banter, rather than the way your hands felt across his skin. “This isn’t even close to what I sound like in bed.” 

“I know.” 

“I sound so—” He paused, his brows furrowing as he processed your response before snapping his head back to look at you. “What do you mean, you know?” 

“Carlos was your teammate,” you shrugged, trying to bite back your smile. “And he was always in the room next to you in hotels. He’s heard some stuff.” 

“I—” Lando tried to speak but words failed him. Memories flashed through his mind, nights he had spent in his hotel room alone. Nights where his hand was wrapped around himself with you on his mind and your name on his lips and—

“I’m kidding!” You laughed, unaware of his internal dilemma as you pushed him back down on the bed, your hands smoothing along the backs of his shoulders. “Carlos didn’t hear shit. I’m just winding you up.” 

“Pfft, yeah, I knew that,” Lando laughed nervously, his heart hammering in his chest despite your reassurance. “Carlos wishes he knew what I sounded like in bed.” 

“More like you wished you knew what he sounded like,” you snorted. “Your crush on Carlos wasn’t subtle.” 

“Yeah,” he murmured, burying his face into your pillow once again. “My crush on Carlos. Totally. That was it.”

.

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

Keep Talkin’

satoru/fem!reader, NSFW, MDNI, this was typed on my phone so sorry, no proofreading 😔

Satoru and you had a pretty wholesome relationship with all things considered. He was your best friend. You two laughed together, watched reality tv shows together, and even played video games together when he had the time.

There wasn’t any problems per say… but there was one hiccup.

He hadn’t touched you like at all. You didn’t want to pressure him into anything, of course. You loved taking things slow at first. There was nothing quite like getting giddy over holding hands.

It’s been nearly a fucking year now. You were practically gnawing at the chance for him to just fucking make a move. The most you two had done was some very passionate kissing where both of you had moaned and whined just a bit.

It felt like you two were horny, pathetic teenagers, but dammit. you two were in your late-twenties. this shit was embarrassing.

Still, you didn’t pressure him. You never tried to initiate it either, so maybe this was partially your fault as well. Maybe he was waiting for you to make the first move.

Satoru, Suguru, Shoko, and you were all on discord together late one night. It was a rarity for all four of you to not be busy at the same time.

Everyone was in their respective houses, and you all were all drinking while playing Dress to Impress.

“That bitch’s fit is fucking ugly.” Satoru groaned as he had placed third on the podium.

“Satoru, they’re probably like eight years old. Calm down.” Suguru laughed.

“You’re saying I lost to an eight year old bitch?”

“Stop calling eight year olds bitches.”

“You’re right. You’re the bitch.” Satoru switched tactics.

“Jesus Christ, y/n. You need to give this man a crumb of coochie so he can fuckin’ relax.” Shoko laughed over the call.

You felt your heart start to race as you could tell everyone was waiting on you to respond. You stifled an awkward laugh. “He could get it if he wanted it.”

“Oh-“ The call went silent besides some snickering from Shoko.

“Yeah? I could get it, hm?” Satoru finally spoke up, instigating the situation further.

“You could if you were man enough to make a move.” You reply, feeling the liquid courage take effect.

“You’ve been waiting on me to make the first move, sweets? Here I thought I was being a gentleman. You don’t want that though, do you?”

“Gentlemen don’t keep their women waitin’ so long.”

The sound of someone leaving the discord call took your attention. Geto had swiftly left the call. Shoko left right after him.

“You and that fuckin’ mouth of yours.” He teased before he chuckled quietly. You could hear the gurgle of him taking a few more drinks.

“You should be fuckin’ my mouth, thank you.” You retort.

“Yeah? That’s what you want, hm? Want me to fill your throat? I’d make sure you couldn’t breathe unless I allowed it.”

His words went straight between your legs, making you whimper out quietly as you crossed your legs tightly as if you were trying to hold in your arousal.

“Answer me, baby.” He cooed. His breathing was becoming more noticeable from the microphone, and you could’ve swore that you heard the jingle of his belt being undone.

“Yeah… yeah, I want that.” You murmur into the microphone sat upon your desk.

“I bet you do, fuckin’ slut. Talkin’ to me like that in front of my friends… You just needed my attention that badly, huh?”

“Toru..” You whine. He’s never talked to you like this before. Your hand can’t help but gently rub between your thighs on the outside of your shorts.

“Such a needy lil thing. How long have you been wanting this, baby?” He rasps over the call. You can hear soft repetitive movements in the background. It doesn’t take a genius to understand what he’s doing.

“Too long.” You mumble pathetically into the mic.

“My poor needy girl.” He hums as you hear the rhythm speed up. “… just needing me to come and fill you up, yeah?”

“Yes, please.” Your hands slide down into your shorts and panties, and you gently rub circles into the small bundle of nerves. A small, shaky moan escaped your mouth before you could even think to stop it.

“Oh? Is my girl over there touchin’ herself to the thought of it?”

“Mhm..”

“You’re so fucking cute like this, baby. C’mon let me hear you.” He encourages as he lets out a strangled moan of his own. His hand is stroking up and down his hard, thick length. He gently uses his thumb to spread a bead of pre-cum around his reddened tip.

“Satoru…” You moan his name as your fingers keep working your clit. You feel yourself dampening your panties with slick. Your body wants his cock as badly as you do.

“Keep talkin’, darling. Please, don’.. ah.. don’t stop.”

“Come over please. Mmph- please, I want you to make me.. me come..”

“Yeah? How would I make you cum?”

“By fucking me deeply..” You say as you finally indulge yourself. You slip one digit into your entrance. Your eyes are closed as you try to imagine it’s his hand prepping you for him.

“Oh, fuck… yeah, I wouldn’t stop either… You’d become my little free use fuck toy. I wouldn’t let you do anything without my cock stuffed inside you.”

“Mmnnn~”

“My pretty girl likes that, huh? She wants me to use her whenever I want?”

“Yes, yes please-!” You cry out as you slip another finger into your sopping wet entrance. You start to move your fingers in and out, making a soft gushing noise with each thrust.

“Fuck baby, is that you? Are you that wet for me?” Satour asks as he’s practically fucking his fist. The wet sounds of your asmr are completely pushing him towards the edge.

“Yes, please.” You’re such a stupid mess, sounding like a broken record to him. “please, please, please.. I need you, Toru.”

Satoru doesn’t respond but you hear his office chair rattling as he’s bucking his hips harshly into his hand. Small grunts and groans fall from his lips. He’s so fucking close he can feel his balls tightening. “Keep talkin’ for me, princess. I’m so close.”

“Fuck Toru, ah~ I can’t… I can’t take much more. It’s too much. Mmnnnff..”

“You’ll fucking take it.” He growls as he feels his orgasm rip through his body. Despite how dominant he was while talking, he’s a whimpering mess while he comes all over his chest. Ropes of white cum shoot all over his chest, and some even dribble onto his desk.

The sound alone was enough to bring you over the edge as you feel your hole clench around your fingers, mimicking as if it was milking a cock. Your legs tremble as your back rises off of the chair. You hadn’t felt an orgasm like that in so long.

The call is silent for a moment. Only both of your panting can be heard.

“Toru..?” You finally manage to squeak out after a moment.

“I’m comin’, baby. Don’t worry.” He assures as he’s wiping cum off of his chest and desk. “I’ll come take care of you.”

Yes, it almost took Satoru a year to touch you, but now that he had gotten a taste, he wasn’t able to keep his hands off you.

[withleeknow]

forgetful.

pairing: minho x reader genre/warnings: established relationship, fluff; minho is lowkey the biggest simp wbk, unedited ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ word count: 0.9k note: first fic of 2024! don't look at me tho, at this point i just keep writing the most self-indulgent shit lol

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

navigation › masterlist › ko-fi

minho is the type to - 15 seconds after he meets you for your weekly date night - ask you where your gloves are when he sees your reddened and shivering hands. there was a greeting kiss preceding the question, of course.

"i think we both know what the answer is," you tell him, trying to rub your hands together for warmth until he takes them and presses your cold fingers against his cheeks, before he kisses your palms.

"what’s the point of getting matching gloves if you keep forgetting yours?" he says, a light scolding tone in his voice that matches the slight frown tugging on his brows.

"it's not my fault!" you try to defend yourself. you'd raise your hands for emphasis, but he's still keeping them near his face, alternating between kisses and blowing into them to get you all nice and toasty. "i keep them by the door on purpose so i wouldn't forget to take them with me when i go out. you have to at least give me a little credit for that. i just... never actually remember to bring them."

he rolls his eyes, an act that most would find patronizing especially if minho is the one who's doing it. but when it comes to you, everything minho does is full of affection, even as he pretends to be annoyed.

"what am i going to do with you?" he mutters like a disappointed parent.

"it was your idea to get the gloves. i didn't really need them though. i have you."

"but i'm not with you all the time, baby. you need to keep yourself warm."

"well, you're here with me, aren't you? you can keep me warm now. i'll worry about cold hands later."

squishing his cheeks together, you pull him toward you for a swift peck.

despite his exasperated sigh, minho still presses his lips against each of your palms one last time, even turns them over to kiss your knuckles, before he settles on intertwining his left hand with your right one, stuffing them in his coat pocket as he pulls the both of you toward the direction of your dinner reservation.

"wait!" you exclaim, holding up your neglected hand, "what about this one? it's cold too."

he turns to look at you, his face devoid of all emotions as he assesses your so-called dilemma. then, minho lets go of you, telling you to put both your hands in your own pockets.

"come onnn," you lament, pouting at the man in front of you.

"you come on," he retorts. "just do it."

you huff childishly, watching as the breath comes out in a puff of smoke in the cold air, thinking minho is really letting you fend for warmth by yourself for the remaining 10 minutes that it takes to walk to the restaurant.

it's not like you meant to forget the gloves at home.

before you can resume walking, minho moves to stand behind you, pulling you to him, eliciting a surprised oof! from you. he shoves his hands into your pockets, intertwining your fingers once again within the confines of the fabric as he shuffles you forward, his legs on either side of yours so it's easier for you to walk. the thick coats and wool scarves that you're both wearing already make you look like a pair of clumsy bears roaming the street, but with your back pressed against his front like this, you have no doubt that by-passers must be thinking you're two cotton balls waddling in the middle of the city.

"minho!" you laugh, partially embarrassed that people are side-eyeing this strange public display of affection. "stop!"

"you wanted me to keep you warm, didn't you?"

"people are staring!"

"you said you were cold." he seems unfazed though, continuing to nudge you forward like it's the most normal thing in the world. "make up your mind."

"i take it back!"

you do your best to plant your feet firmly on the ground to keep him from moving. it works though, or at least it staggers him enough for you to wriggle out of his hold. you take a few steps away from minho, and he looks at you with unimpressed eyes.

"i take it back," you repeat. "we're only a couple blocks away. i think i'll manage."

he stares at you for a moment longer, before he reaches into his bag and pulls out a pair of gloves, identical to the matching ones that you two picked out together a few weeks ago.

"how do you have my gloves?"

"these aren't the ones at your place," he clarifies. "this is your backup pair. i went back to the store and got them because i know you never remember to take shit with you."

you don't even try to suppress the grin that tugs on your lips when he walks closer to you, taking your hands and attentively covers your skin with the wool. "so you just... keep them with you at all times now?" you ask.

"pretty much, yeah."

once he's made sure that gloves are hugging your fingers snugly, you pull him down for a kiss, your lips moving together warmly. you feel him smile against you even though he's trying to look stern.

"you love me sooo much," you simper when you break from the kiss.

minho sighs, a long one as if to say yes, unfortunately i do love you very much.

"now come on." this time he does speak aloud. "let's go before they give away our table."

because that's just the kind of person minho is. because no matter how grumpy he may appear from the outside, he's still the type to always think of you and your wellbeing and show up for you even when you don't show up for yourself. no matter how callous his facade is, he is still the type to love you quietly. tenderly. completely.

permanent taglist: @onlyycb97wife @starsandrqindrops @borahae-reads @abbiestearsricochet @cutiespaghetti @anthropologykpopmultistan @moonlinos

all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 01.01.2024]

[jedisupernova]

falling for the mafia boss's son, kwon jiyong

notes minors dni contains fem reader, non idol au, always written with plus size reader in mind as i am myself but anyone can read, takes place in the late 90s (hence the mention of certain technology or media,) mentions of smoking and drinking, reader and jiyong are both twenty-four, very much slice of life and dialogue heavy, very cute and banter-filled meeting!, jiyong being a flirt (or my attempt at writing flirting,) jiyong and reader are down bad (a lot of banter, her parents are on the stricter side; he has to sneak in) reader and jiyong being silly, yearning, angst (miscommunication, mentions of his hardships, he wants to protect reader from his life but to a fault, arguments, he shows up injured one night and you tend to his wounds YUPPPP, mention of insecurities, reader lowkey needs new friends), smut (keeping quiet, dry humping, oral f receiving, sub!jiyong, p in v, reader gives jiyong a pair of her panties,) and inevitable typos.

requested? no, this is an original idea! its certainly is a 180 from the last jiyong fic i posted, but what is creativity without ambition! so here goes nothing! this is long. enjoy :)

the time on jiyong's watch read 9:13 pm, his eyes drifting to the summer night sky above. it was hot as fuck. the street lamp's fluorescent lighting flickered, making him blink increasingly harder, distracting him from properly inhaling the lit cigarette between his lips—unceremoniously landing a bead of sweat initially perspiring from his temple into his eye. "shit." his mutter disappeared into the commotion of whatever his friends were going back and forth over. last he checked, it was something about someone's car, or some movie, but the other side of his brain just processed technotronic coming from the house the party they were all invited to tonight was in. jiyong took his cigarette between his pointer and middle fingers, using his other hand to rub his bothered eye. neither of his friends took notice, enwrapped in conversation, taking drags of the cigarettes they bummed off jiyong after parking the car some ten minutes ago. a long, defeated breath deflated his chest. "hot as shit, bro—god damn." that earned him concurring nods, their gazes following him to the house peeking over the wooden fence behind them. jiyong wiped his forehead, kissing his teeth disapprovingly; the back of his hand glistened with sweat. he took one last drag of his cigarette, dropping it onto the sidewalk and putting it out with his sneaker. "place better have some fucking ac," he said, turning to his friends. "you ready to head in? alright, lets go."

to his joy, there was air conditioning! and not many people were in the house, so he could actually feel it! hallelujah! he sunk into the couch like it was nobody's business after making himself a drink, laying his head back, letting the rum and coke glide down his throat with a satisfied huff. he mouthed the few lyrics he knew to the music playing from the backyard, trailing into the house from the partially-open sliding door. jiyong's eyes opened at the sound of loud footsteps clambering down the stairs, catching glimpses of a friend group walking down the hall leading through the kitchen and into the backyard. he planned on joining whatever was going on out there later in the night—his friends did so immediately after getting their drinks—but for now, he minded his own. he liked parties, and went to most that he was invited to—unless his father had something to say about it, of course—but his social battery didn't sustain for long. he liked the quiet, or at least as quiet as it could get; settling with himself for the time being.

a while after finishing his drink, he went searching for a bathroom. the one on the first floor was occupied, so he headed upstairs; he's been here before, specifically the barbecue that happened a few weeks ago to usher in summertime. it felt humid upstairs with the window behind the landing wide open, laughter from below mixing in with the speaker sounding like it was on its last breath every time the bass kicked in. just as jiyong raised his knuckles to knock, the door swung open, catching him off guard but startling you entirely. "oh my god." you placed a hand over your heart, eyes closed. jiyong didn't know what to do in those passing couple seconds—his hand was still in the air. you smiled, amused at yourself. "didn't expect that," you muttered to yourself, opening your eyes. "my bad—here you go."

you stepped to the left to make room for him to enter and you exit, but he happened to step the same direction with similar intention. an upside down grin molded your face, hearing him awkwardly chuckle. "stay there." the sound of your warm giggle drizzled over his ears like honey, making him perk up and pay the fuck attention. jiyong's eyes followed you whilst you walked by his right. his feet moved before he knew it, his head looking away when you turned to look at him. in those three seconds, a whirlwind of thoughts ran through either of you. for jiyong, it was she's fine as hell; the image of you in your shirt and denim shorts lingering in his mind for as long as he wanted, topped by the sound of your clipped voice fading with each passing moment since he heard so little.

for you, it was the slight furrow of your eyebrows whilst you descended down the stairs: was that who she was talking about? you wondered—thinking back to the pregame at your friend's house earlier in the evening. rumors had floated around about ju . . . was it—no, its ji. jiyong? yeah, that—about jiyong's family, more-so his father, but no one ever had the gall to ask him. did they just not want to be caught in their own bluff, or afraid of unleashing a weapon-bearing fight if they properly dared mention it to him? no one knows, nor was willing to attempt. your city wasn't necessarily small, but it also wasn't large enough for anyone to fall through the cracks. you could pinpoint countless times throughout the years where you overheard speculations of his family's true source of income whilst in line at the local donut shop on sunday mornings, or his supposed home life becoming the topic of discussion at the sleepover once the clock hit two in the morning—but actually coming across him? perhaps a few times at the grocery store, fleetingly at parties, seeing him walking up the block with his friends, or in his car waiting for the traffic light to turn green—like any other neighbor.

you tsked to yourself, remembering something else from the pregame: "i heard he's been getting a lot of tattoos lately." a friend said after someone else brought up the rumor he'd be at the same party you were all going to, pouring the group shots—nothing was left in the house after scrounging the last few pours of cuervo tequila, so you all made due with the singular zima found in the fridge. you never liked the beer alternative, so on top of holding your miniature glass with a slight grimace, her baseless observation just deepened it: "you think that has anything to do with . . . you know . . . his family?" what did that have to do with anything? people have tattoos for whatever reasons . . . not to fit some aimless narrative. now that the anecdote came back, you do remember seeing a pair of detailed wings tattooed on the back of his neck—so he had to be the, for lack of a better term, infamous jiyong. unless there was someone else with the same name? you thought, until you realized how stupid you sounded. that was him, and that was it.

jiyong made his way outside, shouting over the music for his friends to hear him. it was relatively crowded. partygoers were dispersed all throughout the yard—some roasting s'mores by the small fire pit on the corner of the tiled pavement leading into the grass, others bickering over the party mixtape, and many either cheersing or throwing out their red solo cups for new ones. jiyong spotted you on the other side of the yard, talking to a friend whilst sat in the patio swing. his attention left his own friends, inner monologue drowning them out: move, motherfucker. that person must have heard him via some inter-dimensional force. though he couldn't overhear, your friend excused herself to get some snacks from the kitchen, leaving you temporarily on your own—but not if he had anything to say about it. he left his friends wordlessly mid conversation, making his way over. jiyong didn't think ahead much and acted more-so on autopilot, nearly stopping in his tracks when you looked up from your seat.

"did you wanna sit here?" the nicety slipped out before you could stop yourself, gesturing to the empty seat, halfway to standing on your feet. "i can move." "no, its okay." jiyong shook his head. it clicked for you: oh wow. its him, again. "i can—i'll just. . ." jiyong cut himself off by sitting down. it took a moment for you to process what was happening. "oh," an upside down grin tugged at your mouth. "alright." you sat down, inadvertently copying the direction of his gaze watching the party before you, lingering in one another's peripheries. your friend returned outside, equipped with a small plastic bowl of mini pretzels and potato chips, nearly dropping it upon seeing who took her spot. she scurried to the other side of the yard as fast as her flip flops would let her, grabbing the shoulder of whomever in your friend group that was in her nearest reach; scrambling to find the words, only able to point hurriedly in your direction.

whilst their mouths fell agape, yours remained closed. you glanced at him from the side, fingers toying with the bottom hem of your shirt. jiyong crossed his arms over his chest, his eyes remaining ahead; unsure of what to say but sure of his decision to come to you. albeit . . . he felt a little stupid. he was usually quite smooth with it, and if he was awkward, there was an indescribable charm coupled with it. he wasn't necessarily at a loss for words (at least that's what he told himself,) but it was one of those times where he acted before thinking it through—hence the silence. you turned your head fully to look at him. "is there something you wanted to bring up?" "hm?" he was caught off guard, turning his head towards you. jiyong jutted his bottom lip, shaking his head. "no. why?" you shrugged your shoulders. "people don't usually follow the person they ran into in the bathroom, let alone sit next to them." "i didn't follow you." jiyong countered. "we're at the same party." "okay. you tracked me down, then." "tracked you down?" his furrowed eyebrows amused you, seeing him fall into your unserious trap. "what're you talking about? we're at the same party." he repeated, a little defensive.

you shrugged your shoulders again. "i don't know. seems kind of fishy." "what does?" "this." "how? i'm just sitting here." "next to someone you don't know." "so?" "people don't just do that. even when they're at the same party." "they do." jiyong wanted to win. win what? he didn't know. "they do when they're—when they're . . ." he cut himself off, growing embarrassed. "when they're what?" you asked. jiyong swallowed, adjusting his posture. "when—when they're. . ." he hated that he started to build a sweat, and the humid night air wasn't to blame. "when the other person's really, uh—really pretty." you looked at him. he didn't dare look at you. a big smile unraveled across your face. "all of that," you said. "just for you to be cheesy as fuck." jiyong didn't expect to laugh as hard as he did, let alone his hand that shot up to his mouth, clutching his lips to hold it on—until he glanced at you and caught your eyes on him, the both of you losing it.

"oh god." jiyong hid his face behind his palms. "was it really that bad?" he asked, opening a gap between his pointer and middle fingers, peering up at you. "don't try to save face with that cute shit." you dismissed. "you think i'm cute?" his hands slid back down, a knowing smile on his face. "that's—that's not what i was trying to—" you stumbled on your words. he nodded along, eyebrows slightly furrowed in faux-thought. "oh, okay," he barely hid his grin; now we're back on track, he thought to himself. "what were you trying to say, then? hm?" "go away." you told him, turning away, arms crossed over your chest whilst his eyes stayed on you. "if really you don't like it, you can get up yourself." "no, because i asked you first. and you're the one who came over here." "i don't see you leaving." jiyong said. you let out a breath, admittedly defeated. a small grin tugged at the corners of his mouth, turning into a full-blown smile when seeing your hand make a talking gesture—the same one waving him off with a small scoff.

jiyong noticed how you both sat with your arms over your chest, finding it endearing. his eyes fell to his knee, mere centimeters away from yours. if only i just sat a little closer. "you're funny." he said, eyes on your knee. "i like that." your hand slipped from underneath your arm, coming up to fan your face. "did you hear me ask what you liked?" this bickering feels like we've been married for decades, his inner monologue voiced. jiyong leaned towards you a little, his movement earning your eyes. "i like a challenge." his voice was smooth, getting his edge back. until you humbled him in a way eliciting whiplash: "that didn't land in the way you thought it would." jiyong let out a breath, eyes closing as he sat back in defeat. "you have me spent." "you've barely tried." you retorted, an upside down grin on your face as you looked down at your lap.

jiyong's eyes opened, sitting up, stretching his arm out before him. "i came all the way over here to talk to you!" he exclaimed, defending himself. "i've been trying!" "so you didn't just come here to rest that pretty head of yours?" your flirting flew right past his senses, jiyong prioritizing the bickering: "this is going nowhere." he crossed his arms over his chest begrudgingly. "it is," you corrected him. "you're just being dramatic for no reason." "i'm not being—" he was about to argue, until your words sunk into his psyche. "oh—it is?" you nodded, cheeks warming, pad of your ring finger wiping the built-up sweat off the side of your nose. it took a moment before jiyong said something: "what worked?" he asked. you shrugged your shoulders yet again, pondering in thought, though you had the answer. "you're funny." jiyong tsked, hiding his sheepish grin by turning his head the opposite direction. "it was fuckin' stupid when i said that." he said, still loud enough for you to hear over the music playing some twenty or so feet away. "it wasn't." you said. "it was cute."

jiyong looked at you; ego boosted, but his smile and raised eyebrow reflected his heart doubling in size. "so you do think i'm cute?" "i owe you after you admitted you came over here to talk to me. even if it was apparent from the beginning." that last part was half-bluff—you weren't completely sure, a bit taken aback when he first approached and sat down. you didn't know where this was going to go, but when it did take off, you would be remised not to have some fun. jiyong was sweet; quickly introducing himself as a witty conversationalist whom both matched your energy and kept you on your toes. his banter was fruitful and his clever use of profanity even more so—like the anecdote of when some guy gave him senseless trouble outside of his cousin's birthday dinner a couple years ago: "i told him that i am indeed the type. the fuck i was, the fuck i am, the fuck i will be." "i can't lie, jiyong. you curse pretty good." or when you told him about the argument that broke out between your friends over what movie to rent from blockbuster last weekend: "its not my fault that i didn't want to waste my time when i've been begging to what feels like a brick wall for months to see angelina jolie in 'gia.' i'm not sorry." "fuck no—and you shouldn't be."

jiyong looked like any other twenty something year old—hiding awkward tendencies behind a charming yet nervous chuckle, or going off on an unbridged tangent about a tv show he likes because he wants to fill the silence; keeping a pretty girl like you tethered to him by any means he could think of. but if anyone looked close enough (and you did, because he was fine), they would find something off about his ensemble of a loose-fitting graphic tee, scuffed sneakers, and basketball shorts paired with hair that looked fresh despite his dried sweat; side taper half-hidden underneath the hair that fell so effortlessly into his comma cut—a little too fresh. or perhaps the most perplexing clue of all: the two-toned watch that fell up and down his wrist whenever he moved his arm. you didn't know much about being rich, or differentiating fake luxury items from the real deal, but how the band of the watch molded against his wrist like it was part of him, and the dial that stared you down whenever he fixed his hair, told you he didn't mess around.

his eyes softened whenever your hand came up to fan your face or swat away gnats, noticing the slight sheen glazing your nose and forehead with a small grin on his face. you looked beautiful. the fact that you gave him the time of day was attractive enough—you didn't need to go out of your way to re-adjust your posture, making your plush thighs rub against the swing's cushioned seats in a way that stole his common sense, or your laughter making his eyes kiss in their corners, his right hand gripping the arm rest to keep his balance. jiyong didn't keep track of the time, so when his friends came over—one who perhaps had one too many, and the other with his arm slung around his shoulders—saying it was a good time to get out of there, he thought quickly on his feet: "its all good, man. i'll—i'll meet you at the car in, like, five minutes."

jiyong stood up, you mimicking his movements without thinking. "do you have a mobile?" he asked you. "no," you shook your head with an iota of irrational shame. "was—was never able to afford one." you let out a nervous chuckle, shaking your head. "its all good." jiyong assured. "whats your home phone? i'll call you." your eyes widened, shaking your head with an added sense of urgency: "my—my parents would never." "oh, okay. i got you." he nodded, understanding. the grin on his face was knowing and a bit cocky, taking a step closer to you. "what should we do then, hm? i'm not leaving here without an answer, y'know." "what about your friend?" "don't worry about him." jiyong said softly, subtly shaking his head. "he could hurl all over the street—like i give a fuck. i'm only here for you." you tsked, looking away to thwart the flustered feeling creeping up your neck. jiyong put his hands in his pockets, grinning when you spoke: "you really need to stop with this cute shit, jiyong." "i don't see you walking away, now do i?" he quipped, chuckling when you nudged his shoulder. he liked this feeling. "cmon," he gestured with his head. "i know you got something. tell me."

you looked at him after a moment. "you're lucky i have the day off tomorrow." "i do consider myself the richest man in the world." "oh my god, fuck off!" your exclaim slipped into clipped laughter, in disbelief over his commitment to the bit. "i'll give you my home phone. but you can only call at specific times, and when i tell you to." "i'll make anything work for you." you scoffed, only deepening his upside down grin. "you're not getting any reactions out of me anymore." you said, only to stumble on your words when he jutted out his bottom lip. "come with—come to the kitchen. i'll find a napkin to write it down, or some shit." and call jiyong did—at noon, just like you told him after scribbling your number down with a bic pen on its last few drops of ink. it was about ten minutes after your parents left the apartment to make the weekly grocery run, strategically landing you at home to finish washing the dishes from breakfast. you dropped the sudsy pan into the sink without second thought when the phone rang, hastily wiping your rinsed hands on your shirt, dashing behind the counter and to the living room.

"hello?" "sorry i'm late—had to get away from my parents." jiyong laid more comfortably in his bed, foot shoving a stray sock off his comforter; the rustling transferring from his nokia. you looked over your shoulder at the analog clock hanging next to a framed family photo, seeing it was barely past 12:01. "you're actually quite punctual." you told him. "you sound surprised." he said. "can you blame me? you're a man." "not just any man—" "—its only been, like, ten seconds," you cut him off, sitting down on the couch. "don't make me already contemplate hanging up." jiyong smiled wide. "you're sharp." he said. "i like that." "in the twelve hours that we've known each other, i don't think i've ever asked what you like. and i don't plan on it." "i think you're just going to have to suck it the fuck up, because i like you." he let out a satisfied huff hearing you scoff. "plus, i think we've known each other for more than twelve hours. i've seen you before. the grocery store, maybe? i knew you looked familiar—think i finally placed you." he tried to play it cool, though he knew the answer.

"most likely, yeah." you nodded despite him not being able to see, your other hand twirling the phone cord between your fingers. did he think about me last night? "i've been working there part-time for a while. its been hard finding a full-time gig, as embarrassing as it feels to be two years post-grad." "i don't think you should feel bad. its hard out here." said jiyong, sincerity coming through the grainy audio. "i mean, i went to columbia, but you don't see me in a suit with a briefcase and shit." "hold on," you waved your hand. "you can't just be the most random person i've ever met." "what do you mean?" "i went to a nobody-knows community college that i'm sure will be caught in a class action lawsuit for money laundering in ten years time, but i'm just sat here talking to a scholar?" jiyong chuckled, running his hand over his warming face. "i'm not a scholar, i'll tell you that much." he toyed with a loose thread on his comforter—memories of his father repeatedly reeling how much he poured into his spot at the university flashing in his head, beckoned away with a small, defiant flick of his head.

you brought him back down to earth: "i'm gonna go get my thesaurus." he kissed his teeth disapprovingly, pout evident in his voice. "like the fuck you are. stay on the phone." he panicked slightly at the prolonged (it was five seconds) silence from your end of the line. "please?" you grinned. "you're really cheesy." you teased. "how is talking to a fine ass woman fuckin' cheesy?" "you can't just say shit like that casually, jiyong." "well, i will. hear me loud and clear." he cleared his throat into the receiver, catching you off guard, holding back your laughter. "you're fine as hell. do i need to keep saying it?" "maybe." "are you free for dinner tonight? i'll tell you in person." "maybe." "what'll convince you?" you said the first thing you thought of: "if you wear that watch of yours again." jiyong smiled, bottom lip caught between his teeth. "you like the finer things in life. don't you, baby?" he said smoothly. your cheeks felt warmer by the second, unsure of what you just started. "its hard to take you seriously when i can hear that smug grin on your face." you responded, voice akin to velvet despite the crackles over the line. "you already know me so well." jiyong's fingers toyed with the drawstring of his sweatpants. "m'starting to think we're meant to be. that doesn't sound corny, does it?"

"i'm relieved you're able to pinpoint that yourself now." you heard him chuckle. "and, no. it doesn't for once. you can be sweet when you want to be." "i can be good." he told you earnestly. "i can be really good, you know." "i believe you." you told him. "i hear it in your voice." a beat went by. "you know," said jiyong. "i didn't think you were capable of being nice." "don't be a dumbass right now, jiyong. this was such a good moment." you couldn't stop the grin stretching your mouth hearing him burst into laughter. "you're goofy as fuck, boy. oh my goodness." you giggled, running a hand over your face. "okay—okay, stop laughing. do you know where we're going for dinner? because i've long thought of what i'm going to say to get out tonight." jiyong got serious real quick. "oh shit—damn, okay. let me think." he cleared his throat. "there's this—there's this place i know by the rec center that has really good subs. does that sound—" "—fine by me." you didn't give a fuck what you ate. you just wanted to see him. "okay. okay, cool." jiyong nodded, licking his lips in thought. "you wanna meet there? or i could—i could come pick you up, if thats okay. i know we just met and all. and your parents might not be the most . . ." you waited for his choice of word. he didn't disappoint. "enthusiastic."

you let out a laugh. "you're right." you said. "you can pick me up from one block over." "whatever works for you works for me." "i can't lie to you, jiyong," you said. he hasn't sure where this was going. "but i really like the sound of that." jiyong took his ear off his phone, turning his head the opposite direction on his pillow, silently screaming into his palm. i hit the jackpot! i hit the fucking jackpot! his inner monologue rejoiced. he quickly brought the phone back to his ear: "you do?" "mhm." the sound of your voice made him kick at nothing, covering his face from no one. "i do, jiyong." "oh my god." he muttered. "i think i love you." you scoffed, unable to thwart your grin or increasingly flustered state. "what's my favorite fucking color, jiyong?" "i still think i love you," he avoided the question. "i'll know by the end of tonight, anyway." "i don't even want to ask if you're referring to my favorite color or whether you love me because you're starting to get on my nerves." "is it the right one?" "jiyong." "at least tell me if its the right one. look, i'll be honest and tell you that i'm just really happy i sat next to you last night." a moment went by before you spoke. "i am too." you said honestly. "and yes. it was the right nerve." jiyong buried himself behind his palm. "tell me where i should pick you up from. i can be there at seven."

it wasn't long before you started sneaking him in. up the fire escape that conveniently lead into your bedroom on the second floor of the apartment building you've lived in your entire life—it was a no brainer. it also wasn't long before jiyong got you a pager and mobile phone to go with it. to use at your own leisure, of course, but also already programmed with speed dial: "just press eight and i'll pick up anytime." "anytime?" "anytime, baby." "even when you're on the shitter?" "now that you mention it, yes. even when i'm on the shitter." jiyong came at ten pm on the dot on nights you gave him the green light. those first few times, it often began with the two of you bickering in hushed whispers when he didn't lift his leg high enough to climb over the windowsill, losing his balance and leading his foot to come clambering down, echoing off the steel grates.

you looked at each other in silent panic, his eyes dashing to your door behind you; both listening for footsteps, his shoulders sinking in relief when nothing followed, only to straighten back up when you smacked his shoulder. "get it the fuck together!" you whisper-yelled. "do you want my parents to wake up!?" "alright, alright—damn!" jiyong tsked, clearly annoyed, but his voice remained quiet. "its not my fault the developer built this shit higher than a fucking city skyscraper!" "use your nimble legs, they usually get you far enough." "i don't have nimble—" "—its a compliment, jiyong." "i don't have time for fuckin' riddles. give me your shoulder—it'll help me balance." he beckoned you over, hearing you huff. you stepped forward, feeling his palm secure your left shoulder. you leaned in as he prepared to attempt to climb in again, hand on his other cheek, bringing his closest to your lips. "you whiny baby." you whispered. "you making fun of me isn't helping either of us." "that wasn't me making fun of you." "you know what—i can just head home." he gestured behind him. "my car is right across the street." you looked him in the eyes, waiting for a moment or two. "i don't see you leaving, jiyong." "well, i was just—" "—get inside before i close the window."

he watched you like you just did him. "right—goodnight." you reached up to pull the window down. jiyong scrambled; "wait, no—shit! wait!" he reached up and tousled his hands with yours, either of your fingers clumped together. his face was directly in front of yours, looking into your eyes. a small, please-forgive-me grin stretched his mouth. "you look really pretty." he whispered sweetly. "just shut up and get inside." you stepped aside, feeling his hand on your shoulder. he climbed in successfully, arms making residence around your waist in no time, bringing you in for a kiss. "you're lucky i like you." he whispered hurriedly with intent, quickly reconnecting your lips. "excuse me?" you felt him giggle against your lips. "its—its the other way around. have to deal with your goofy shit all the time." "but you like it, right? because you like me." his arms pulled you closer to him, your supple cheek squishing against his lips. "right?" he kissed harder, your failed attempt at acting annoyed manifesting in a curt tsk. jiyong was in his own world: "right, my pretty girl?" "i wanna say no just to fuck with you." jiyong abruptly stopped, sinking his face into your neck. "i like hugging you." he murmured. "i think you just like annoying me." his giggle was your answer, feeling a chaste kiss pressed dotingly onto your neck when your hands traveled up his back and into his hair. "you're a pain in the ass."

jiyong was someone who knew what he wanted. so when he asked to be official after your second date, you were surprised and even let out a small laugh, thinking he was playing—but he was dead serious: "you've known me for less than a week, jiyong." you said from his passenger's seat. his gaze left your apartment building a block down and returned to you, shrugging his shoulders. "i mean, sure—yeah." he concurred, wiping the sweat off his forehead. the mechanic still didn't fix his ac right. "but i'd say i've known you long enough to know that i want you." he said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world, because it was. why waste time, especially when you know the other person feels the same? warmth mounted your cheeks, averting your gaze to the center console. "can i think about it?" you asked. jiyong grinned, eyes momentarily watching your fingers glide against the leather lining of the console, avoiding the urge to hold your hand by tapping his own against the steering wheel. "yeah," he responded gently. "but i already kinda know what the answer is." "no you don't." you tried to quip, your quiet voice a giveaway. "did you not say yes to getting ice cream tomorrow? at the pier? maybe i misheard—" "—you didn't, ji."

he smiled. "good. thats good." he spoke softly. he faced you, eyes fluttering down before taking your hand in his. he brought it to his lips, pressing a kiss. he turned to your palm, mouth molding against the clammy skin before making his way down to your wrist. his eyes opened when your nerves acted before you could think, wordlessly calling him over to you when your palm now rested against his cheek. jiyong moved without an iota of hesitation, leaning over the center console. his eyes looked into yours with a look of can i?, voice unexpectedly barely moving a morsel above a whisper. "can i kiss—" "—yes. come here." he didn't need to be told twice, closing that gap damn near immediately. your hands held his face when he tilted his head to the side, deepening the kiss. his lips felt soft albeit somewhat chapped, molding against your lips in a way that made a shaky breath exit your nostrils; his hand trailing up your thigh.

"jesus—fuck." you were startled by someone lugging their garbage into the dumpster a few feet away from the car, a hand coming up to your chest as jiyong cursed under his breath. he looked over your shoulder, eyes narrowing at the unsuspecting stranger. his attention returned to you upon feeling your fingers toy with the collar of his graphic tee. jiyong leaned in, the chaste kiss sweet. "my answer's yes." you muttered against his lips. "that's news to no one, baby." his hand rested atop your thigh, thumb tracing your plush skin. "at least act surprised," you tutted, holding his face in your hands, amused at his lips being half-puckered; clearly expecting another kiss. "i have a reputation to uphold." he smiled, not hiding his chuckle, his eyebrows furrowing slightly. "what—for who?" you tried to come up with something witty, but each passing second prevented anything from landing correctly. you shrugged your shoulders, playfully defeated. "i can't lie to you—i've heard them say that in movies, and it always sounded really cool." he erupted into colorful laughter, his forehead falling to your shoulder. you caught him, unable to hold your own giggles back.

nights in your bedroom were spent underneath your duvet; recounting your days to each other in hushed whispers, making plans for future dates after swiping that day's newspaper from the kitchen counter—"'eyes wide shut' is still playing? seunghyun mentioned wanting to see it recently, i think. i think he went the other day." "tom cruise kind of freaks me out. what about 'but i'm a cheerleader,' tomorrow at 7:15? i heard its good fun.", giggling in between sweet kisses, or attempting to stay quiet if things got heated. whether it was you unbuttoning his jeans or his hand slipping past the hem of your underwear, either of your free hands was covering the other's mouth. jiyong's mewls were muffled behind your palm as your fist pumped his hardened cock— incessant ruffling of his briefs against your hand hidden behind the innocent creak of the bed when you turned onto your back to spread your thighs further, giving his thumb enough leverage to nurse your clit. his body followed your movements without hesitation, laying on his side, bottom lip caught between his teeth at how your t-shirt bunched up in the space between the bottom of your back and the top of your ass—breathing heavily into your palm.

it was easy to tuck him underneath your shirt when he made love to those perky nipples, relishing in the sound of your sharp breath after the chill of his watch band pressed against the warm, bouncy skin of your right breast, his tongue tending to the left. his ministrations were experienced, but how his hand trailed up and down your side, squeezing and rubbing your hip dotingly felt personal. or the way he hummed to himself in satisfaction from time to time, muttering whispers of "one and only," and "how can you be so fucking hot." he didn't give a fuck that his lips were begging for some vaseline, or that his jaw was feeling increasingly tighter—your breathy "jiyong, baby . . ." was all he needed to hear to keep going. even better if you arched your back, squishing his nose against your chest whilst his re-adjusting his posture stretches out the shirt you slept in. he moved to your right breast, encircling your areola before capturing it between his lips. he moved to lay atop you, waist between your thighs.

you felt his bulge against you. "you know whats f-f—mmph!—funny?" you whispered. "hm?" jiyong hummed. "you're in the perfect p-position t-to—s-shit—to f-fuck me if you wanted to." "don't put that idea into my head," jiyong whispered quickly, popping sotly off of your nipple. "you don't know how long i've been thinking about that." "there's no way we'd stay quiet enough, s-so forget 'b-bout it—least for now—shit!" your hand shot up, covering your mouth as the warmth of his tongue made your eyes roll back. "s-show me." it was hard to clarify with how scattered your mind was at the moment. "p-pretend to—i can feel you—j-ji, baby." you cut yourself off, thinking it was useless to try to compose yourself; thoughts coming out fragmented. he got the message, though—practically shoving of his cock caged in his briefs against your clothed pussy, moving his hips against yours. you let out a small gasp, back arching. jiyong collided his hips harshly with yours, feeling your thighs jiggle and a sound of surprise from your lips. "damn! go slow!" you exclaimed in a whisper, amused smile evident in your tone.

he did it again, eliciting a peculiar small grunt from his forcibly-muted efforts, amusing you further. "i get you that hot and bothered, huh?" "you have no fucking i-idea—f-fuck." he came to a halt, catching his breath, feeling how desperate his dick was between his fucking temples. "if you act up like this," you said. "then there's no way we can fuck here." "no—i'll behave myself." he hurriedly assured, making you grin. "i'll behave, baby. i will. holy fuck—its hot under here." jiyong carefully slid out from underneath your shirt, gradually standing on his knees on the bed. he let out a breath, wiping his cheeks and forehead with the back of his hand. "like i was saying," he let out a breath. "i'll behave—" "you're ridiculous." you cut him off. jiyong looked down at you, seeing you propped up on your elbows. "what?" "since when did you rival fedex?" "what?" he repeated, confused—until he followed your gaze; so hard, and with how the fabric of his briefs looked, it was as if his dick doubled in size.

he bit at corner of his bottom lip, hands on his hips. "i mean—" he began. "you asked me to show you, so here you go." you tsked, raising your leg, nudging his shoulder with the ball of your right foot. he caught your ankle, pressing a kiss before letting your leg go. you propped your feet against the bed, knees together in the air. "nah—open 'em." he tutted softly. "gonna have a taste before i leave. make you feel real fuckin' good." and he fucking did—face sunken into your cunt, his tongue going back and forth between nursing your clit and hole; hands atop your thighs, holding them in place. he heard your whimpers, as muffled as they were, even through the erratic meshing of your plush skin against his ears. your other hand sunk into his hair before having to use both to cover your mouth once that knot began to form in your abdomen. "j-jiyong!" your ghost of a whisper penetrated his senses. his response manifested in one arm slung over your stomach, his other hand trailing past your stretch marks, reaching for the closest breast and kneading it in his palm; humming in content against your slick pussy.

you and jiyong lived in your own world those first few months. neither of your respective friends knew—not because it was hidden on purpose or anything, but jiyong was too busy running red lights to come see you, and you were occupied with thinking of a slick way to end a phone call after hearing the pager beep in your nightside table drawer. though there wasn't verbal confirmation until later, there were definite signs: a particularly blunt friend pointing something out when you got to lunch ten minutes late ("there's something different about you, but i can't place it—" "—she smells like sex. also has the glow." "hey! no i don't!"); jiyong thinking his bucket hat would deter attention from the mostly-faded-but-still-noticeable hickey on his neck, only for seunghyun to point it out the moment he got in his car to head to the mall ("that goofy hat isn't doing shit." "she calls me that, too." "it takes nothing to get everything out of you, ji."); when you were too quick to leave a night out, saying you'd take public transit home, ultimately leading you to be cornered by the same friend, strategically pulled you into her car away from the others ("be for real. are you seeing someone?" "we're still—" "—okay, so you are. who is it? don't tell me its that co-worker that ate the—what was it? expired tuna? willingly?" "i'm offended that you think i would ever consider that. we met at a party, anyway—" "jiyong!? oh my god! oh my god!" "how did you—" "—i saw you two on that swing, but i didn't think—oh my god! tell me everything!" "only if you let me get a fucking word in—holy shit!"); to jiyong straight up telling seunghyun "i can't tonight, man. m'seeing my girl." to which his best friend responded "she rang me up the other day at the market, but i don't think she knew who i was. you need to fix that."

things took a turn the night your parents were out at a co-worker's wedding. they left at eight, not expected to be back until well past midnight. jiyong was in your bedroom no later than 8:10, shoes kicked off, hand comfortably behind his head, slumped against the pillow next to yours in bed. perhaps it was the fact you two were truly alone for the first time with your parents gone and window closed—for once not at the ready to dash out if footsteps erupted down the hall—that the conversation trickled elsewhere. something about these last few months was just something different for jiyong . . . he felt connected. safe. most importantly, trusted. you felt cared for, desired, and seen. it showed in those lingering stares; the air just feeling right whenever you two are together; his hand ghosting past yours before working up the courage to hold it in a way that always granted him that shy grin of yours; your cheeks brushing against one another's when you're looking at the same thing . . . the list was endless. something just—it just clicked. the question of are we moving too quickly? pestered at the back of either of your minds . . . but one look, and the puzzle was completed. the answer clear. any doubts eradicated.

trust was in bloom, and so was his willingness to be vulnerable. when it occurred, you shut the fuck up, putting your own shock aside: "my parents have never been the type—nah." jiyong chuckled. it was after some anecdote you brought up from middle school about parent-teacher conferences—specifically how you were outed for having a failing grade in chemistry. "my mom went to those things, but my dad—its like you'd have to drag him there. he was always busy, or some shit." you hummed, reaching over and softly grazing your finger against his forehead, fixing a fallen strand. it wasn't intended, but jiyong took the gentle gesture as a means of saying you can tell me anything. his eyes flickered to the linen before fully turning onto his side, directly facing you. he avoided the stirring turmoil in his chest, bringing his pointer finger to your bottom lip, pulling it down and letting go; chuckling at the small plop it made against your top lip, endeared by your playful scoff.

"listen, uh—" he began. "i know people—people talk. about my . . . about my family, or whatever. about my dad, specifically." he rubbed his eye, avoiding looking at you. "he does work, uh . . . he does work—he works underground—" "—jiyong, you don't have to tell me if you don't want to." you told him, seeing the strain on his face. "no," he shook his head. "i want to. i mean—if i can find the fucking words." he let out a curt chuckle, frustrated with himself. he took a breath, still not looking at your eyes, but the bottom hem of your shirt. "i guess i—" he huffed. "i guess i always kinda knew something was different. like, my 'uncles' weren't my uncles. well, two of them are. but most aren't." you listened carefully, cheek rubbing against the pillowcase when you nodded. "it was a feeling, i guess? and then in sixth grade it was like . . . my frontal lobe developed. that's real fucking early, i know, but i don't know how else to describe it. everything just—it just made sense."

jiyong finally looked up. your expression was unreadable, but you didn't look scared. or intimidated. so that was a good sign. "i'm just jiyong." he spoke softly. he wasn't sure why he said that but something in him compelled him to do so. his hair ruffled against the pillow, subtly shaking his head. "i don't do any of that. i'm set straight—normal." for the most part, his inner monologue voiced. you scooted closer, the tip of your nose brushing against his. your brought your hand up, pad of your thumb tracing his stubble. he watched you with a glint in his eyes; entranced. "no one's interrogating you." you whispered, a smile stretching your mouth, seeing him visibly relax. he let out a long breath, forehead falling onto yours, eyes fluttering closed. "and you are just jiyong." you told him, hand reaching behind him, coaxing tenderly up and down his back. "well, my jiyong. specifically speaking." "you got that right." he kissed your cheek, nestling into your chest, arms slung around your waist. you held him without hesitation, quickly combing his hair back with your fingers as it tickled your chin. jiyong closed his eyes, letting something else slip out: "you make my life feel normal." he muttered, hidden in your warmth. "you make my life a lot more interesting." you told him, the vibrations of your chuckle making him hold you tighter.

a couple hours later, he was out of your bed, stood in front of your rotating fan perched beside your dresser. "you'd think it wouldn't be still hot as shit in damn near october." jiyong muttered, quickly leaning down once the fan turned him way, flushed cheeks momentarily relieved. "i know." you concurred, left in nothing but a shirt and underwear; laid on your side in bed, head propped up by your hand. jiyong huffed when the fan turned away, tugging at the collar of his shirt and pulling it over his head, wiping the sweat off his forehead with the fabric. you quickly looked away when he turned around, sitting on the edge of the bed. the unintended brewing silence caught his attention, turning his head to look at you. "this is the longest you've gone without talking since we started dating." "shut up, ji." he grinned, leaning down, bringing his lips to yours.

"you've seen me like this before. why so shy now, hm?" he murmured against your mouth; the kiss slow, deliberate. "s'cause you're fine." you mumbled. "s'my line, baby." you stopped the kiss, lips hovering above his. "you're so cheesy sometimes that it hurts, jiyong." he laughed against your mouth. "but you like it. i know you do." he said between kisses. his hand reached your hip, sliding down your thigh until his fingers tried to nestle between them. you opened your thighs enough to let his hand in, closing them around his wrist. he cupped and palmed your clothed pussy as best he could, kissing you a bit harder. "i know my girl likes it when i'm half fucking naked." he whispered. his eyes opened when the kiss ceased, feeling your quiet breaths brush against his mouth. you perched your left foot atop the bed, effectively separating your thighs, allowing jiyong to feel your puffy lips underneath the fabric of your underwear. "look at her. so good f'me, so ready." he praised, glancing down as his hand tucked into the hem, sinking his middle finger between your puffy lips. he moved it side to side, watching you as a small gasp left your mouth. you adjusted your hips—to your fortune, the move aligned the pad of his finger to your clit, making you shudder, fighting rolling your eyes back by squeezing them shut.

aimlessly, your hand pawed at his bare chest. "j-ji—kiss me." he leaned in, the side of his nose aligning with yours. "don't ever need to ask," he murmured. "jus' do it." he kissed you repeatedly, going slower when you moaned into his mouth; it was the way you liked it—purposeful and fucking sensual. you both were present and so fucking crazy for each other that it could suffocate any room . . . and it was beginning to be your own. "both of your lips are so soft against my mouth, baby," he muttered atop your mouth, adding his tongue to the mix. "y'know i have dreams of eating that pussy, right? can't get enough of it—" "—j-jiyong!" you gasped, holding onto the back of his neck when the pad of his finger fastened its speed. "should i do it now? hm? should i eat this sweet pussy—make love to your fucking clit before i fuck it? yeah?" that latter was his usual dirty talk that got you the fuck going, putting the idea into your head before giving you brain that had yours malfunctioning. it felt so risky with your parents down the hall, so you never did it until—wait.

"j-ji—jiyong. stop—wait." you reached down, fingers wrapping around his wrist. he halted his ministrations, looking at you. "c-can't—can't think." you breathed heavily. "what's up? everything okay?" he asked, lips finding your temple. his finger left its spot between your puffy lips, palm resting against you. "do you—" your mind was scrambled. "do you have a condom? i want you. tonight." there was a small gap between his lips—until it clicked in his head. "right. right—" he nodded, reaching into his pocket and opening his wallet. if he thought he was flustered before, his cheeks were on fire now. the one fucking time—his inner monologue cursed. "shit—i don't have any." "go get some." "one step ahead of you." his hand slipped out of your underwear, sucking briefly on his middle finger before grabbing his shirt from the floor, shoving his feet into his shoes. "won't be longer than ten fucking minutes. i swear." he told you, leaning down and kissing your lips. "just—just stay horny." jiyong said a little awkwardly before climbing out the window. his own libido clouded his senses, dizzying his temples as he descended down the stairs and climbed down the short ladder. "will do." you muttered to yourself, chuckling.

your bed creaked as loud and incessantly as either you or jiyong willed it to. once he was in and you were adjusted ("how's it feel, baby? feel okay?" "y-yeah. just—just hold me, ji."), he fucked you right and good. you felt like everything he dreamed of and more—all those nights he lulled himself to sleep tracing the linen back and forth with his palm, imagining it was your hips; balling the fabric in his fist as he showed himself no mercy with the other, dreaming of what you might sound like around him. "f-feel good with me, baby. c-c'mon." he'd whisper to himself in the confines of his bedroom—panting it next to your ear whilst his hips rammed into yours. you felt as if you achieved your final form: arms above your head in bliss, shirt pushed up to your neck whilst your tits bounced intermittently, your fine ass man between your legs; fucking you with such tenderness coupled with carnal desire, stretching you out in a way you didn't know you needed or was possible, quite frankly. jiyong took his time to memorize your body: all the divots and crevices poetically curated by your cellulite, the uneven lines of your stretch marks, how the rolls adorning your hips jiggled differently than those on your stomach. his hips stuttered, vulnerable moan escaping his lungs when your thighs wrapped around his waist as best you could in your horned-out haze, pleading "more, jiyongie—m-more. want it harder," so beautifully. he leaned down, both of your heavy breaths meshing together as he adjusted his balance on his knees, rutting into you harder than before. all mine, he thought to himself, eyebrows curling upward at the sound of your indescribable moan, how fucking lucky am i?

the only problem was once you started . . . you couldn't stop. this newly-emerged can of worms was barely contained when your parents were once again just down the hall—but ambition was nothing without strategy. you two mapped out the least-noisy parts of your bed and acted accordingly: if jiyong's behind you, he's on his feet whilst your elbows propped you up on your bedside, your feet on the carpeted floors as his pelvis pounded your globes (nearly popping a vein trying to keep quiet in the process); if you were on top, strangely enough the top middle of your bed worked well, but jiyong couldn't change how he sat once he settled; or the one time you fucked on the floor because you really wanted to try the position whilst laid on your sides, but the bed would be too nosy. you swore to never do it again after waking up with a migraine and stuffy nose from the air conditioning blowing directly onto your head.

at some point, you couldn't take it anymore. it was after the thanksgiving holiday—the early hours of black friday, to be specific. whilst your friends were hitting the mall, jiyong was hitting it from the back. he drowned himself in your duvet trying to keep his whimpers at bay, your own palm suffering under the pressure of your mouth. when you finished, he kept his balance by gripping your left globe, squeezing it to thwart the urge to smack it silly. drool threatened to leak out the corner of his mouth, swiping it with the back of his other hand before pulling the condom off. a thin string connected your palm and your mouth, that same hand going into his hair without thinking upon feeling his lips against your cheek. "i love you so much." he whispered, hand tenderly rubbing your hip. "l-love you too. can't keep—" you swallowed, mouth dry. "can't keep being quiet. s'too hard." "i know. i feel the same." "help me—help me stand up, jiyongie." "i got you. c'mere, baby."

you were on the brink two weeks later. swiveling your hips, his hands holding your waist and lower back in place, swallowing his mewls and whimpers with your connected lips. jiyong was so needy—cut fingernails clawing at your bare back, faint whispers of "keep fucking me. keep f-fucking me just like that—hngh!" against your mouth, hastily re-connecting the kiss to muffle his verbose libido. he was more whiny than usual that night—this being the first time you've seen each other in a while from misaligned free time and abrupt family plans. it showed. "oh f-fuck yeah, baby—" his whisper was so faint and high he sounded as if he was depleted of oxygen. the way his face was scrunched up—mouth hung open, eyes shut, eyebrows knit deeply together—didn't help. "k-keep fucking me—keep fucking jiyongie just like that. y-yeah! fuck—" your mixed slick combined with the lubricated condom made his dick slip out of you a few times, permitting a breather, but not for long. your knees burned and you felt dizzy, but his cock was fucking addicting. it was all for you and no one fucking else's. his pathetic fucking whines merely scratched the surface of attesting to that—how about him chanting your name like a goddamn prayer? catching him grinding into the duvet when he's eating you out? begging for mercy with that fucking quiver, only to stutter a million thank yous once that euphoric wave hits? it was endless. he was yours. you'd take that tylenol and hydrate later—for now, it was just you and him. no one else existed in your shared world.

your gummy walls clenched around him, sending him into an untamable orbit. "a-agh!" he whined aloud, sucking in a breath with your hand covered his mouth with haste, his eyes widening. "you better stop moaning like a bitch." you whispered. his eyes were misty, subconsciously mourning the temporary loss of movement. "i c-can't help it, baby," he shook his head, shaking off your palm. "y-you feel so fucking good. m'so fucking turned on right now—you have no idea, holy s-shit." both of his arms wrapped around your waist, pressing kisses onto your bare chest. "i'll be good. i'll—i'll behave, baby." he whispered, looking up at you. his hand grabbed your right breast, eyes watching yours with a glint. "i'll be your good boy—your good jiyongie. look, i'll do this to keep quiet." his tongue encircled your nipple before taking it between his lips, lapping the peak repeatedly.

it was an effective method, considering when you started moving again, all that could be heard was the moderate, non-suspicious tinkering of your metal bed frame—but now your self-control was withering away. your fingers entangled in his hair, vibrations of his moans molding into your plush skin . . . you couldn't help yourself: "f-fuck!" you gasped, hand aimlessly grabbing onto the wall in front of you, nails scratching against the chipped paint. jiyong sucked diligently as if nothing happened. you attempted to squish this shit like a bug, needing your boyfriend to wake the fuck up: "cut that shit out, ji—ha-a!" you sucked in a breath. "i can't k-keep quiet." "if i don't have this, i'm going to wake up the entire neighborhood." he muttered. "not before we wake my fucking parents!" you whisper-yelled. you nudged the side of his head with a tsk, your nipple slipping out of his mouth with you leaned to your left, grabbing your shirt. "oh hell no—" jiyong realized what was happening, you cutting him off: "shut up." you tutted, putting your shirt on. "thats what you get."

you held either side of his face, kissing his lips sweetly. "i love it when you're like this." you felt him hum. "all desperate." "i know," jiyong answered, kissing you back. "you ride my shit into the sunset whenever i do." he chuckled when you turned away, clearly flustered. "come back here." he murmured gently, lips decorating your supple cheek. "but m'being honest. this is how you make me. s'fucking hard keeping quiet, baby." "i can't keep doing this, jiyong." you shook your head. "i'm going crazy." "i know, pretty girl, i know." he nodded, palms rubbing up and down your thighs. "my place isn't really an option, either." he shook his head, seeing you nod. you talked about this before. "always busy with some shit. but i'm gonna get us a room—its about time. so we can be loud as we want to, yeah? fuck good and hard?" "y-yes." you let out a shaky breath, slowly beginning to move your hips. "needed it, like, yesterday." "i'll book it first thing tomorrow." he whispered, bottom lip choked between his teeth. "just finish us off, baby," his voice was already an octave higher. "no one does it like you—ha-a—a—oh f-fuck!"

it was an interesting feeling, knowing you were going somewhere just to fuck your boyfriend. those car rides were either humorously quiet or overly conversational—the little white lies you told your parents at the back of your mind as you filed into jiyong's passenger's seat after your shift ended: "i'll be late tonight. its someone's birthday," "i'm picking up another shift," or his personal favorite "the girls and i are having a sleepover." ("am i one of the girls?" "in your dreams.") he swiped his card at the hotel receptionist's desk without a second thought; clothes on the floor and bed creaking less than an hour later. the nearby 24 hour mart was the go-to for condom and snack runs, or the neighboring strip mall where you went for dinner ("do you want to go re-fuel?" "'re-fuel' is crazy, jiyong.") or he'd pick up an order—styrofoam take-out containers sprawled out in bed, eating your burgers and curly fries with nothing but the thin hotel quilt atop either of you, talking about whatever as the local weatherman played on the box television.

"keep moving like that! holy shit! holy shit!" he cried out one night, fucking up into you as you slammed down onto him. his hands went back and forth between gripping the side of your thighs to smacking either of your plush globes; or laying his palms on your thighs, looking down as he both watched and felt them shake with each unrelenting thrust. "i love feeling this fucking j-jiggle," he sucked in a breath. "and gripping this shit." his hands squeezed your ass before kneading to your love handles, looking up at you upon hearing you moan. "have no idea how fucking gorgeous you are," his breathing was jagged, sweat perspiring across his forehead. "the fuck do y-you—hngh!—t-the fuck do you mean no one's ever wanted you this bad? huh? felt like i needed to start a prayer service when i met you, baby—f-fuck! oh my god—ha-a—a!" he whimpered, hips stuttering to a sudden halt after you clenched around him. you let out a breath, adjusting your knees, hands letting go of the headboard to opt for your arms wrapping around his shoulders. "thats it, thats it." he praised gently. "get comfortable f'me. for your jiyongie—your good jiyongie. there you go, baby." he found his face lost in your neck when he started moving again; fingers entangled in his hair, nails scratching against his tattoo. "o—oh! j-jiyong! oh f-fuck, b-baby—" you cut yourself off with a gasp, guttural moan following. you felt so free. "felt like i needed to start a prayer service when i met you, baby—f-fuck! oh fuck—yeah! yeah!" he was close, determined to finish his thought. "felt like i needed to go to church and t-thank g-god herself for bringing me t-to you—f-fuck!"

no part of the room was spared. godspeed to whomever was on the housekeeping shift that saturday morning after the stench you two left in that damn bathroom . . . meant to get in the shower at ten to make the eleven check-out time and also complementary weekend brunch . . . but its not your fault the both of you are fine as fuck! "like that! like that! m-more—more! f-fuck!" your voice bounced off the tiled walls; acoustics of the bathroom drilling your moans into his brain for his next however so many lives—not that he was complaining what-so-fucking-ever. your knee was atop the counter, stomach laying comfortably in the sink as your hands held onto the wall and mirror before you, being fucked delectably from behind. the plop of his heavy balls against you hardly rivaled the sound of the air vent, let alone how loud you were. "o-oh my god, baby! f-fuck—fuck me! fuck me just like that! a-ah!" your walls swallowed and spit him out whole, leaving nothing to the imagination with the condom covered in creamy slick. he was panicking a little, though, because all of his cock was in you. he didn't have anymore, so he just went harder.

it seemed to do the trick. his mouth fell open at the sound of your shaky "oh my fucking god!", glancing at the mirror and seeing an expression on your face that he thought only existed in his fantasies. "f-fuck!" he whimpered. "y-you're f-fucking tight—feels so f-fucking good—a-agh! jiyongie f-feels so good!" referring to himself in third person was a tell-tale sign he was pussy drunk, only making you more hornier, knocking over the hotel hand soap in your effort to fuck him back. damn—is my dick really that good? he wondered to himself, nearly stumbling in trying to regain his balance. it ended in you two making it on time to brunch—but with his t-shirt on inside out and backwards, and droplets of water adorning your hair, along with a sheer streak of body lotion on display whenever your lifted your arm to take a bite of your omelette, of course.

godspeed to whomever was next door, too, like that one time a couple took an overnight pitstop during their road trip. it was downhill for them starting at 11 pm that friday night. you were stroking jiyong's cock as he laid on your chest, his moans muffled by your mouth, but the boyfriend's eyebrows raised nonetheless as he got ready for bed. the girlfriend nudged his shoulder and gestured to the wall when you were getting your pussy ate, moans undeniable as jiyong's tongue made love to your clit, slurping you up like never before. she kept her laughter in, eyes widening humorously at the circumstance. the smile was swiped clean off of her face when jiyong started fucking you—grunts of fighting for power as your ass rammed his pelvis, mewls of pleasure, and whorish moans bleeding through the walls like it was made of paper. the couple stared at the ceiling in complete darkness, not a wink of sleep in sight for either of them. to top it all off, a phone kept ringing. until something went crashing down.

"who keeps—who keeps fuckin' calling—god damn!" they heard him curse when your mobile rang again. "m-must be one of the girls." you were out of breath, the ringtone dramatically deafening. "c-can you—can you get it? take out the battery or something. i can't reach—can't think straight, sick of the phone—hngh!" your thoughts came out fragmented, shutting up once jiyong leaned over to the bedside table; inadvertently shoving his cock deeper inside you. he slid the back off, picking the battery out and shoved everything onto the floor hastily. "thats fucking better—f-fuck!" you pushed into him, feeling him grip your hips and rut into you at breakneck speed. "y-yes! yes!" you cried. the girlfriend was fed up, but not with you: "why don't you fuck me like that?" she asked her boyfriend. "uh—" he stuttered. "she's—she's playing it up. clearly. i mean, who really sounds that dramatic? right?" he was overpowered by the sound of you calling jiyong's name so delicately that anyone could see what was really going on. the girlfriend huffed, turning away from him and onto her side, tugging the duvet. "that's what someone who doesn't know what they're doing would say." she muttered. "good-fucking-night."

its true: jiyong knew you like the back of his hand. no matter how he got on your nerves sometimes (with love, of course.) however, as your five month anniversary went by, and you rang in the start of the 21st century together ("we survived y2k, baby. i think this calls for some celebration." "just finish your cig in peace, ji."), you realized you didn't really . . . know him. like, some of the basics. here's some context—what initially tipped you off was something completely unrelated: a conversation that arose when you were out with friends; out at brunch at a local diner, taking up an entire booth, catching up after some time apart. an anecdote filled your ears: "we went all the way to his mom's for his little brother's birthday," a friend was recounting her previous weekend with her boyfriend; the tinkering of silverware and iced teas decorating the air. "it was fun. the food was so good—i haven't stopped thinking about the baked ziti." a wave of chuckles spread around the booth, including from you. as she went on, your inner monologue took your attention away from your french toast: does jiyong have a sibling? i think he mentioned having an older sister before . . . but where does he live? oh my god—where does he live?

you grabbed your glass of water, taking a sip, mentally going down the rabbit hole. does his mom live with him? are his parents divorced? i mean, with his dad's work, its highly unlikely . . . but still—what's his family like? holy shit, i don't even know his favorite fucking movie. now the standing question is was this a product of your own actions, or was he just secretive to the point it all fell under the radar? it felt complex and confusing, and also as if the universe was targeting you directly. the next thing cemented it: the mention of your name from someone in the group took you out of your head. "hm? what's up?" you muttered. "does jiyong have any hobbies?" you have got to be kidding me. you thought to yourself, out of everything i could've been asked. and i don't even fucking know. the look on her face was almost knowing, but in a different way. the subtle snarkiness ruminated in some of your friends since you told them you and jiyong were dating—a product of not having the gall to ask you about his family directly, you've figured. "he does," you quickly said, nodding. "he likes making mixtapes—" "has he made you one?" "yeah, he has. a couple, actually." you nodded again. now lay off; and she did.

not only was jiyong the type to know what he wanted, but he knew when something was up. a lifetime in a household riddled with conflict will do that to you. he doted on your cheek with sweet kisses, remnants of your shared desire sporadically sprinkled throughout the hotel room the following weekend. his arms were wrapped around your naked body, bringing you closer to his own whilst he lowly hummed in content—but you weren't paying attention, and deliberately so. your eyes remained glue to the uninteresting re-run playing on the late night television channel. jiyong was losing his patience, but kept himself leveled: "is something on your mind, baby?" he asked gently. "no." you responded curtly. he pursed his lips, "your pout says different." you let out a huff, defeated, turning your head towards him. a moment passed before you spoke: "i don't know you." you blurted. immediately confused, jiyong's eyebrows furrowed. "what?" "i mean—" you shook your head, "let me explain." you turned to face him fully. "the other day, i was out with my friends. one of them talked about, like, going to her boyfriend's mom's house for a birthday party, and i just thought about how i didn't even know where you live. like, what part of the city, or something." you thought aloud.

your effort to find your words subconsciously led you to sit up in bed, hand out as if you were rifling through the metaphorical word bank. "like, i don't even know what your favorite movie is, ji." you shook your head. "the godfather." he joked, shit-eating grin on his face; head propped against his palm, elbow on his pillow. "this is what i fucking mean!" you exclaimed, gesturing towards him. "be for real, jiyong. now's not the time." "okay, okay. i'm sorry," he apologized, sitting up himself. "i'm not really one for movies." he said. "i'm more into tv—like twin peaks. i really like that show." you looked at him. your subtle pout made you look kissable to the level of a federal offense. "what's your favorite ice cream flavor?" "easy: rocky road." answered jiyong. he looked at you for the next question, but it didn't feel satisfactory. nothing did. your face sunk into your palms. "i don't even know where you live, jiyong." you repeated, albeit with an added sense of self-pity. "that's, like, the first thing someone knows about their significant other. i said 'i love you' before i even knew whether you live on a fucking cul-de-sac, or some shit."

his chest felt heavy. he knew you were right. perhaps his efforts of protecting you from the mess of his life backfired. he didn't feel the need to be retaliatory or on the offense, but instead owned up to it. "i'm sorry." he muttered. "no, jiyong. don't apologize," you shook your head. "that's not what i—you know what . . . i don't even know what i meant. just—just forget it." "no, don't do that." he tsked, shaking his head. "that's the last thing we should do right now. c'mere, baby." he scooted closer to you, wrapping his arm around you, bringing your head to his shoulder. "i'm not the best at being open." he murmured, only for your ears to hear. "but i'm going to try my best to change that—for you. you hear me?" he kissed your temple. "its the least i could fuckin' do." he thought aloud. a long breath left his lungs, eyes fluttering closed, letting himself feel the uncomfortable emotions stirring in his chest. "how about i bring you around tomorrow before i drop you home?" he spoke into your supple skin, pressing a kiss. "my parents won't be home, so it won't be a lot at once. but it'll be a start. how's that sound, baby?" "okay. as long as you're good with it." you said. "i'm more than good with it." he assured with a nod. "you're the person i trust the most, y'know."

his family's house was beautiful. lived in, personal, and not intimidating whatsoever—in fact, it was normal. luxurious, yes, but normal. he lived in a gated community lined with homes with price tags you could only imagine, parking his car on the driveway made with any regular asphalt (you felt asinine for being compelled by such a small detail, but couldn't blame yourself either). the few granite steps leading to the front door were lined with potted flowers in bloom on either end. you had hardly any time to take in just how fucking wide the door was, because before you knew it, paws were pitter-pattering on the floor, followed by a handful of barks. "this is rodney." jiyong bent down after taking his shoes off, scratching behind the beagle's ears. "we got him for my older sister when she turned sixteen. i didn't name him that nerdy shit—she did."

jiyong then gave a tour: the wall of family photos that lined the left side of the hallway leading to the kitchen—the frames aged yet elegant (the portraits weren't giving jcpenney but a friend of a friend of a friend who knows an exclusive french photographer, and mixed in effortlessly with developed photos from disposable cameras and polaroids from family reunions); a descriptive yet comedic detailing of the food in the fridge after you mentally got over how spacious the kitchen island is ("this sliced meat right here—my dad's gone to the same butcher since he was a kid. oh, and this tupperware—my mom's bulgogi marinade is top tier." "i can't wait to try it one day, ji." "you will, baby. you will."); peeking out the windows on the lited doors serving as an entryway into the backyard, staring at the pool before harkening your attention back to him standing in the living room, the couch and nintendo 64 between you two ("me, and this couch. like this—" he crossed his fingers. "every thursday at nine for twin peaks." "no wonder you disappear." "prior obligations, baby."); to finally his bedroom, with rodney filing in and settling into his duvet whilst showed you his cds ("wu-tang clan changed my life." "can i borrow it to listen to it sometime?" "its like you want me to drop everything and propose right now." "its never ending with you, jiyong.")

when rodney decided he was over it, he jumped down and left the room, allotting the bed to you and jiyong. some time later, you laid comfortably atop the duvet, fingers entangled in jiyong's hair as your lips molded against his, his palms tenderly rubbing up and down your side. from time to time, you grew flustered, breaking the kiss and turning away, beckoned back to him upon his lips trailing from your cheek to the corner of your mouth. when it happened for the third time, a smile stretched his mouth. "hey," his breath was hot against your cheek, deepening your sheepish state. "come back here. stop doing that, baby." he purposefully elongated the last syllable, kissing your supple skin slowly. "don't get all shy on me." "i don't know," you muttered. "sneaking over to my boyfriend's house . . . making out with him in his bedroom . . . getting all shy like this. its like i'm finally experiencing what everyone else did when they were sixteen." you looked at him, slightly embarrassed. "does that sound stupid?" "not at all," jiyong shook his head, admiration apparent in his eyes. "you're so fucking cute that it pisses me off sometimes." he laughed at your scoff and eye roll, leaning closer when you nudged him away. "like, i get to be your baby. can you believe that?" "you're always on the brink of being my enemy." "that's hot." "jesus—its never ending!"

slowly ushering you into his life began to mend some things. he pushed aside those movie dates where you sat at the back of the theater, lips together like there was some sort of magnetic force; the gelato café where you've tried every flavor twice and repeatedly beat him at chess on the set out for customers; you two fighting the glitchy atm as he tries to deposit money to pay the overpriced rental rates for pattleboats at a nearby waterfront ("its like the universe doesn't want me to ride the dragon paddleboat." "you sound more like me everyday, ji.") for a restaurant his family has frequented since he was a kid. it was lavish and elegant—yet a sense of community was palpable. jiyong greeted the hostess like he's known her his entire life (because he has), cooly pulling out your chair out for you before settling in himself. he had a pristine suit on coupled with the watch he met you in, wearing them both with ease like a second skin of sorts, ordering the chicken parm for the both of you ("its the best dish and also ginormous") and a wine you were pretty sure had three digits after the dollar sign on the menu.

as out-of-body of an experience this was, you felt you blended in somewhat. it was all in your outfit: a long sleeve red dress that draped just above your knees, complemented by black tights, pearl earrings jiyong gifted you for christmas, and a coat to protect from the bitter winter cold outside. jiyong could tell you were uneasy at first, eyes lingering on you whilst the waiter poured water into your glasses, seeing you try to hide your pensive expression with a grin. "c'mere," he called softly, arm draped on the back of your chair. "see that lady over there? the one with the blue silk top?" "mhm." "has some of the worst french tips you've ever seen. she used to babysit me when i was a kid—shit was in my nightmares." "what a way to reach consciousness." you giggled, making him smile. "i know, right?" he concurred, looking around. "oh—that guy over there, by the plant," he pointed to the right. "he was caught with his twenty-one year old secretary. his wife took the kids—think they're about my age now—he went to turkey and got a hair transplant." he wanted for it to be in view. "move your head, motherfucker." jiyong muttered, glancing at you when you nudged his shoulder. "jiyong!" you chuckled. "what? i wanna show you—look! now!" he whispered. you were taken aback. "i'll be for real with you: i would've never guessed." his commentary was disarming and helped you relax; the kiss he planted on your cheek helping his case.

you felt the fleeting glances from others in the restaurant throughout the night. everyone really knows each other, you thought to yourself as you cut into the chicken parm. however, it wasn't attached to a flare of vitriol or scoping-out-the-fresh-meat, like your one friend would suggest if she knew where you were tonight, but with an air of curiosity and gentle would you look at that? before returning to their business. many, if not all of your fellow diners, were older and had known jiyong his entire life. it was tight-knit, exclusive—further illustrated by the aunties that came up to your table when you finished your meal and were waiting on dessert, doting on him with "you've grown up so well," and smiles brightening even more so upon seeing you. what topped it all off was when an elderly man greeted jiyong at your table in the midst of sharing a small plate of flan, followed by his wife and two younger children—all dressed to the nines. jiyong shot up from his seat, extending his hand, only to be pulled into a hug. you quickly figured this was one of his uncles, standing to your feet after jiyong said your name: "this is my girlfriend," you walked around the table, smiling politely. after making introductory small talk, you returned to your seat, not seeing the uncle grab jiyong's elbow: "you look married." he muttered, making jiyong chuckle, nodding.

"blood-related?" you asked him a moment or two later, glancing at the family being seated on the opposite end of the room. "take a guess." said jiyong, wiping the caramel drizzle from the corner of his mouth with a cloth napkin. "hm. . ." you thought aloud. you genuinely considered it: they shared a similar cadence and held their postures akin to looking into mirrors, but something in you said it was otherwise. "i'm gonna say no." you looked at him, hearing his spoon tinker against the porcelain plate. you shrugged your shoulders, "intuition, i guess." jiyong swallowed his bite of flan, smiling afterward. "what?" you questioned. "did i get it right?" jiyong nodded. "you did, yeah. he's my dad's oldest business partner. used to take me on fishing trips—it was him that shocked me the most when i put the pieces together, y'know?" "mhm. i see, i see." you nodded. you scooped some flan in your spoon, slipping it into your mouth. you sat back on your chair, letting out a breath as your arms crossed over your chest. jiyong couldn't help his grin—you looked like a natural. "you're gonna fit in well here." he told you. "i barely know what i'm doing." you said. "well," he countered. "there's nothing to know. i'm just . . . . me. you just need to be you."

you grabbed your wine glass, stirring it with a subtle rotation of the stem held by your fingers. "i told my parents about us." said jiyong. "you did?" you asked, eyebrows furrowed, taking another sip. jiyong nodded, "i told my mom, like, two weeks after we met. she was so excited." he tried to act cool about it, but you saw through the sudden avoidant eye contact and nervous chuckle; amused grin on your face. "how about your dad?" you set your glass down. "he found out through her." explained jiyong, seeing you nod. "then—then he tried to ask me about you like he didn't know. he's not that good at being subtle." he shook his head, smile stretching his mouth hearing your laughter. his family sounded sweet and admirable, a stark contrast from their perceived reputation. a product of being multi-faceted and cunning, you figured, but you found it endearing nonetheless. "would you—" jiyong cleared his throat. you knew what was coming. "would you ever tell your parents about me?" "absolutely," you answered without hesitation. "they might, y'know, stop drop and roll to the hospital. but they're just going to have to suck it the fuck up, quite frankly."

jiyong smiled so big that his eyes kissed in the corners. "that's right." he chuckled, nodding. "would they be more calm if there was a diamond on your ring finger?" you gave him a look, eyes narrowing a little. "i think that might induce cardiac arrest, but not before it does me—because i know you're not about to get down on one knee right now." "i'm not!" he smiled, shaking his head. "i promise, i'm not! well, not yet—" "—jiyong." "its just an idea!" he defended. "to think about!" you tsked, unable to hide your grin, watching as he took the checkbook from the waiter. "yeah, okay," you nodded. "think about it, silently, to yourself as you pay the bill." "mhm, mhm." he nodded, biting his bottom lip; utmost failure of keeping his smile at bay, placing his card into the book and handing it back to the waiter. "you don't see us doing that, though?" he wondered aloud. "if i say yes, you can't use it against me and make me all flustered and shit." "i can't promise you that." "well, then i guess you'll never know." jiyong smiled knowingly. "think i got my answer, baby."

as the good fluttered in, so did the bad. things got real rather quickly—in every meaning of the word. it wasn't that you were naive and expected some adrenaline-pumping life with jiyong. he was normal, and just a person whom was born into circumstances out of his control. he felt so lucky to have found someone so generous and grounding, accepting of his family without materialistic expectations or with a looming hunger for intel. you wanted him for him; the good, but also the ugly—no matter how visceral it may be. living a life of nuance wasn't a culture shock. everyone experienced it in their own respective lives, whether it was what you perused for at the grocery store, how you were raised, the car you drove, your personal quirks, your defining experiences; the list was endless. jiyong's just happened to be the talk of the city, and on full public display when he was pushed to the edge. so when he showed up to your window on a late thursday night, knocking softly and one when your bedroom door was closed (the rules you established long ago), with small cuts on his face and a bruise forming on his chin, you didn't know what to do.

"h-hey baby," he smiled—an effort to fight his increasingly glossy eyes. "how are—how's it going?" "ji," your voice was quiet, taking the sight of him in. "what . . . what happened?" "uh—" he licked his lips, wiping a fallen tear, seeing it mixed with a droplet of blood leaked from a cut on his eyebrow. its now or never, he thought to himself. "y'know how—y'know how when he first met, i told you sometimes some guys try to give me trouble?" he sniffled. you nodded, "yeah." "well, sometimes," he sucked in a breath. "sometimes i let them." the shame felt atomic. it all happened so quickly . . . out to dinner with his friends . . . having a smoke in the parking lot outside . . . the son of his father's many business partners that's been on the brink of being ousted coming up to him . . . the beef trickling back to jiyong, the eldest and only son of his father's, having to take the heat . . . next thing he knew, he was flooring it to your apartment complex, his face pulsating.

he shook his head. "i didn't have anywhere else to go." he looked at you pleadingly. "its—its—" hard to explain, his inner monologue finished, but he couldn't get the words out. "do you . . . do you have a first aid kit?" his voice fell to a whisper. a moment went by before you responded, everything starting to sink in. "i do have something—" "—t-thank you!" he let out a breath. he grabbed your hands, kissing your inner wrists. "i'm so sorry b-baby. i didn't mean to scare you—i love you so fucking much." he cried. "hey, ji, i need you to breath." you brought him back down to earth, watching him inhale and exhale shakily. "you stay here and out of sight until i get back." you motioned to the brick wall to your left. he's done it before, hiding himself during a close call with your parents early in your relationship. "okay?" "y-yeah." he nodded. "don't—don't take long." "i won't."

you did what you could with the tools at your disposal: a bottle of antiseptic that's been lodged in the bathroom cabinet for years in case it was needed; applying it to his cuts with a cotton round, neosporin that was bought recently after your dad nipped his finger fixing a loose hinge on a kitchen cabinet, and a pack of bandaids that have been there as long as the antiseptic. it wasn't much, but it did the job. jiyong didn't have it in him to hiss at the slight stinging, let alone scrunch his face up in muted discomfort. you two sat in silence, you carefully placing the bandaid on his eyebrow as best you could, your other hand lifting his hair so it wouldn't stick to the adhesive. "do you wanna tell me what happened?" you spoke quietly, fingers fixing his hair. jiyong shook his head. "its fucking embarrassing." a beat went by. "i don't wanna scare you—or something." "you wouldn't. its not embarrassing to tell your girlfriend about something, ji." you told him. he recounted the night as best he could, but didn't lift his head to look at you; falling into mutters when it got to the more sensitive parts. it left you bewildered, but accepting—there wasn't any other choice.

"i'm sorry, jiyong." your hand rubbed his bicep tenderly. "you don't deserve that pressure. no one does." "it can get real fuckin' tough." he nodded, feeling the tears brew again. "like there's no way out sometimes. just gotta suck it up, y'know?" he looked up at you, sniffling. "i know." you whispered. "can i—" he let out a shaky breath. "can i stay here tonight?" "you know that's not possible, ji." you said—your parents down the hall. "i know," he nodded quickly, wiping his cheek. "but i just—i had to ask. how about the hotel? do you wanna go?" "i have work early in the morning." "oh shit—yeah. i forgot. sorry." he muttered. he knew this was coming: he'd have to deal with these emotions himself. he wasn't new to this, but it would've been nice to spend the night with his love. "its okay." you assured, reaching for his hand. "can you—can you hold me? i'm sorry, i don't wanna be a burden—" "—shut up." you cut him off, pulling him into your embrace. he nuzzled his face into your neck nearly immediately, wrapping his arms around your waist, eyes closing at the feel of your hands traveling up his back, settling behind his shoulders. you talked to him in a way that would resonate: "when you're the love of my fucking life, there's no such thing as being a burden." you whispered into his ear. "do you fucking hear me, ji? hm?" "yes." he responded meekly, holding onto you tighter.

your palm smoothened his hair, petting the back of his head like he’d wither away at any second. “i told my parents about us.” “you did?” he expected the worst. “what did … what did they say?” “they brought up your dad,” sounds about right, jiyong thought to himself. “which is surprising, since they usually keep to themselves, so i didn’t expect them to know. but i guess if you don’t talk, you listen.” you thought aloud, hearing and feeling jiyong hum as he listened. he opened his eyes, pondering if he should say what was brewing in his head. i’ve spilled so much tonight, he figured, might as well. “what did you say?” he asked. “i told them they have no idea what they’re talking about,” his eyes fluttered closed, holding you closer. “and left it at that.” he felt his face grow hot. “would they—would they ever wanna meet me?” “funnily enough, my mom asked me this morning before she left for work.” your hand traced up and down his arm. “between you and i,” you grinned. “she looked a little excited at the prospect.” “really?” jiyong lifted his head. “that's—that’s amazing.” a twinkle returned to his eyes. “we can take her to val’s,” the restaurant he took you to, “anything she wants, she gets. i don’t give a fuck how high the bill is.” he shook his head, wiping his cheeks with the back of his hand. “what about your dad?” “he’ll come around.” you said. you saw his face drop a little. “it’ll take some time, but he’ll come around. i promise.” your hand came up, fingers fixing his hair, though it looked fine; you just wanted to be near him. jiyong nodded, turning his head to kiss your palm before leaning in, bringing his lips to yours. “i don’t know where i’d be without you.” “me neither.”

the next several months were smooth sailing. your first valentine’s was spent at val’s before making the headboard bash into the wall at the hotel—the bouquet of roses jiyong gave you sitting idly next to the gifts you got for one another on the tv stand. come spring, you met his family! not only his immediate, but most of his extended, as well. it called for extensive preparation: “what do i wear?” you asked him from your end of the line, mobile flip phone held between your ear and shoulder as you reached for your go-to cereal. “i don’t know—something casual?” jiyong lugged his laundry bag down the basement stairs. “its a fuckin’ dog’s birthday party. wear anything you want.” he let out a breath, lifting the top of the washer open. “no, jiyong,” you huffed, pouring your cereal into your bowl. “be for real. i’m not showing up in jeans. tell me so i can thrift accordingly.” “thrift? fuck no. i’m taking you to the mall to figure this out. what time’s your shift end?” “two.” you looked at the time on the oven—you had to be out the door in twenty minutes. “great,” you heard jiyong as you chewed. “we’ll be there at two-thirty.”

rodney’s adoption day party was as lively as a graduation or wedding engagement celebration. the love was in the air, specifically an excuse for a huge family to get together and eat good food. jiyong’s mother dashed over to you in her kitten heels before her son could utter a mere syllable, harnessing the most welcoming aura. “you’re more beautiful than i ever could’ve imagined, oh my goodness!” she seemed like the happiest person in the world, holding your face so softly in her hands as if you were god-sent. she took the boxed tiramisu you brought with a look of appreciation, taking your hand in hers, and effectively away from jiyong as she brought you to the festivities in the backyard; much to his chagrin. “how’re you feeling?” jiyong asked when his mother was beckoned away by an in law, hand on your lower back. “a lot of things,” you nodded. “many things—good things. colliding.” he chuckled. “good,” he nodded. “come here, we’ll start with my cousins.”

no one had to tell you his father was the one standing on the opposite end of the poolside, the way he carried himself did the talking. he was conversing with a small group when jiyong brought you over. he was half an inch taller than jiyong, never faltering his posture, even when extending his hand to shake yours. you were so fucking nervous, looking up at him with your best smile and polite greeting. it was like he knew, because what he said next was so disarming it nearly made you dizzy: “i’d usually be a lot less formal with my son’s girlfriend, but i’ve got a reputation to uphold with these guys.” he gestured his head to the right. you let out a laugh, missing him patting jiyong’s shoulder and giving him an approving, re-assuring wink. you went to motherfucking town on that bulgogi, coupled with bottomless in-house mimosas (“compliments to the chef, your mom—holy shit.” “that’s what i’m saying!”); surprised when rodney recognized you after only meeting a couple times, delighted when he came over and sat by your feet (“you’re his mommy.” “you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”); or him watching happily when you got along with one of his older cousins, talking to her about coldplay’s upcoming record. a job well done; a new chapter opened.

you were invited frequently back to his house for dinner thereafter. your parents did come around, treated to dinner at val's—jiyong answering whatever questions your father threw at him with unbridled ease. finally, after all this time, it felt as if things were falling into place. so much so that when it came time for his birthday, several weeks after celebrating your first year together, you took a page out of his book: making a mixtape. sure, your family computer was running like a jet engine by the end of it … and you picked up an album of an artist he likes just in case it didn’t work … along with something else … but its the thought that counts, right? right. you handed him the small gift bag before after he climbed out your bedroom window, ready to say goodnight. “happy birthday, my love.” you held his face, bringing your lips to his. “thank you, baby.” he smiled. “what is it?” you tsked, making him chuckle. “open it when you get home. its just … a little something.” “a little something?” “a token for you to remember me by.” you grinned, referring to his family’s week long trip visiting his elder sister and brother-in-law, set to fly out early in the morning. “your dramatic ass.” he teased, giving you a sweet kiss. “i love you. i’ll be back before you know it.” “i love you too,” you rested your hands on the windowsill, watching him descend down the fire escape. “page me when you get home—drive safe!” “i will!”

the mixtape worked, holy shit! he read the accompanying card with a grin on his face, heart doubled in size, practically seeping out of his pores when he opened a greatest hits cd of one of his favorite artists. he set them down on his nightside table, peering into the bag and seeing a box was left. he fished it out—it looked like it would house jewelry, nothing bigger than that. did she get me a bracelet? necklace, maybe? he wondered, lifting the lid. what stared back at him was unmistakable ribbed knit black fabric, lined with what looked to be white elastic hemming tucked into the sides; half of the brand name visible. “holy fucking shit.” he whispered to himself. he’s seen you wear this pair before—better yet, he’s taken it off of you before. he picked the folded underwear out of the box, watching it dangle off his fingers in awe. a thought flashed in his mind. he leaned in, inhaling. then he inhaled again. and again. and again. is that why she went to the bathroom before i left? to fucking pack this—he inhaled sharply, looking down and seeing how hard he was through his shorts. holy fuck.

he triple checked that his bedroom door was locked, taking an extra precaution and lodging the top of his desk chair underneath the handle. jiyong kicked his shorts and briefs off, laying comfortably in bed. he took a deep breath, beginning to stroke himself. he started slow, not wanting to work himself up too quickly. he stared at your underwear held in his palm, letting it dangle onto the linen before scooping it back up, teeth raking over his bottom lip. “look how hard you made me, b-baby—s-shit!” he whispered to himself, stomach curling inward, that fucking knot in his abdomen already threatening him. “look how hard you made your jiyongie.” the amount of precum he already had was (to him) embarrassing, making him grip his stiffened dick more firmly to prevent it from slipping; inadvertently making his mind numb and toes curl. “f-fuck!” he mewled. “keep—keep f-fucking me, b-baby! keep fucking jiyongie just like that—a-agh!” his voice escaped into a higher register, almost invisible in his broken whisper. he pressed the back of his hand against his lips to quiet himself, bringing your underwear back to his nose, eyes rolling back upon catching your scent again. a vein popped onto his temple, sweat building on his forehead—eyes shut, thinking of how your skin jiggles every time he fucks you; the way you look up at him before taking his dick in your warm mouth; the thought of you taking your underwear off in the bathroom and packing it for him.

“o-oh my god!” he whimpered. without thinking, he wrapped your underwear around his dick the best his horned-out mind could, fucking his fist. “c-can’t h-help it, b-baby—can’t hold it in—f-fuck!” he came so hard, feeling it bleed through the fabric and trail down his balls. he breathed so hard he could power a fucking windmill, body feeling like jelly as he aimlessly reached for his jeans on the floor, fishing out his flip phone and speed-dialing you. all you heard was his heavy breathing: “hello? ji?” “i’m gonna f-fucking marry you.” he huffed, chest heaving. “what?” you furrowed your eyebrows, the microphone a little muffled. “is everything okay?” “i said—” he licked his lips. “i said i’m gonna marry you—a-agh! f-fucking—f-fuck.” he whimpered into the microphone, his mewls making it all click. you looked down at your thighs, heat brewing between them. “did you—” you swallowed. “did you like your gift?” “like it?” jiyong huffed. “baby, i—i came in it.” how could she act all innocent when she knows what she’s doing? oh my god—i’m gonna get hard all over again, his inner monologue rambled, breathing finally leveling. your jaw fell, catching it quickly behind your palm. “good to—good to know.” you muttered, hiding your face from no one. i wonder if that hotel would accept guests at one in the morning … you thought to yourself.

by the end of your second summer together, there was a stack of photos on your dresser—developed from various disposable cameras. most were from the same barbecue, beginning with a photo of you and a friend making drinks in the kitchen; the snacks lining the counter; the small bonfire that somehow became overexposed when developed; jiyong giving a thumbs up when the flash went off—a tester photo when you thought you fucked the camera up; you and your friends trying to coordinate a photo; you in the middle with jiyong and seunghyun (you finally know who he is! he’ll never let that inside joke go) on either side of you; and two of you and jiyong smiling grandly in both—the first with his arms around you sweetly; the second he calls “just let your dad handcuff me right now,” his hands visibly on your ass, cigarette hanging between his lips as he grinned. he couldn’t help the very characteristic thing he said after picking the photos up from the department store, rifling through them with you in his car: “damn. we look hot as fuck, baby.”

honey's tag list! ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა: @gongyoosgf; @infinetlyforgotten; @riddlerloveb0t; @mesopotamism; @pepsicolapussi; @breakmeoff

[peachycocaine]

Sugar coated

Pairings: cuck!lee myungi + thanos x fem!reader

I put the reqs aside for this one im sorryy :< ngl this popped up in my head then i saw a similiar fic so it gave me motivation to write this!! I'll be working on the reqs shortly though so stay tuned :3

Tw: threesome, oral (m receiving), p in v, unprotected sex, language, nsfw. 18+ mdni (also reader got an abortion in this fic) not proof read don't come for me

You had walked into this hell hole due to some heavy debts you couldn't afford to pay, if your life wasn't shit before it's shit now. It kept getting worse, first you woke up in some fuckass green tracksuit with a number on it, in some random place with hundreds of other people, then you had to play kids games where they actually shot people dead and then, the cherry on top, your ex, the reason you were in here, was here too. He made you buy some shady ass coin, got you pregnant and in debt then left you to fend for yourself. You despised him, he was dead to you. Seeing his face made your blood boil, but at the same time you couldn't help but pray he'd make it out safe after every game. He didn't notice you at first but when he did, he started acting all concerned for you as if he didn't do this to you in the first place. You always gave him the cold shoulder every time he approached you. Things weren't good for him here either, he ran into some of his viewers and they claimed he got them in debt by promoting that coin. Well it was partially their fault too, for being gullible idiots and taking the huge gamble. They'd get into a quarrel every now and then, you'd just watch from a distance. After the game mingle, myung gi approached you saying he wanted to start over once you both got out of this place. At first you thought he'd finally got his shit together and was thinking logically until he brought up some other crypto scam. You should've known he didn't care about you, he only cared for the money. You pushed past him and stomped away and he just followed you, trying to reason with you. To your dismay, some people were observing the two of you closely. The purple haired man had his arm draped around min su's shoulder, blabbering out some bullshit before his lap dog interrupted.

"Dude, check that out." Nam gyu said with a grin on his face. "What're they on about?" Thanos watched closely. "They're definitely a thing, he got time to snag up some gig in this place while we're in debt because of him" nam gyu chuckled while elbowing thanos' shoulder. Thanos watched you walk away from myung gi, a plan brewing in his head. Later that day, when it was meal time, myun gi went to take a leak and thanos followed behind shortly. He walked up to myun gi with his arms crossed and a shit eating grin. "So. A little birdie told me that you copped yourself a bitch in here, a pretty one at that" his grin grew wider. Myung gi's expression faltered for a short second, "i dont know what youre talking about" he avoided his gaze and shoved past him. Thanos didn't let him get off the hook that easily and grabbed him by the shoulder and spun him around. "If she ain't your bitch then you wouldn't mind me making her mine would you?" Myung gi scoffed "leave her out of this, she doesn't have anything to do with this" myung gi responded defensively, narrowing his eyes. Thanos chuckled "nah man, whats yours is mine, especially after that stupid stunt you pulled on me. Until you pay me back my shit, you my slave" he tapped myung gi's head with two of his fingers. Myung gi's jaw tensed "and what the fuck does she have to do with this? Are you implying something?" He said through gritted teeth, thanos pushed his lower lip forward, thinking for a moment. "Maybe i am, how about this. You let me have a round with your girl and i'll leave you alone" a smug smile tugged at his lips. Myung gi clenched his fist and sighed, he was contemplating. After thinking it through he nodded. "We got a deal, come over to my bunk when it's lights out." He mumbled in defeat, thanos smirked "right decision man" he bumped myung gi's arm with his fist playfully before walking away.

You went over to myung gi's bunk after the lights went off, wondering why he had told you to meet him after lights off. You stood beside his bunk, gently tapping his shoulder. He got a bit startled before sitting up to face you. "Oh hey.." he mumbled. You raised your eyebrow at his strange behaviour "what is it? Why'd you call me over?" you were getting suspicious now, he was fiddling with his fingers and avoiding your gaze. He cleared his throat, finally speaking. "So.. i need you to listen to me, i know i should've asked you beforehand but.. i've made a deal with someone that involves you.." his voice trailed off as he pressed his lips together, trying to form his next sentence. "And..?" You looked at him expectantly. "And like, i need you to fuck a guy okay?!" He snapped before sighing and pinching the bridge of his nose. Your eyes widened, his words hit you in the face like a slap. "What?! Have you gone crazy? Do you think im some object you could sell and fucking buy like those stupid crypto coins?" You said in disbelief. You knew your ex was an asshole but you never expected him to go this far. "Look, please, i need you to do this. Think about me for a moment, he said he'd stop bothering me about the money if i let him have his way with you" myung gi pleaded and you just glared at him. "Well hell, think about yourself! I'm not trading my body for you!" you snapped before turning on your heel to leave, just as you turned around you were met with thanos' chest. You instantly looked up to see thanos grinning at you, the red light making his expression visible. "Woah woah woah senõrita, what's all this fuss about?" He chuckled as he took a step closer to you and you took a step back. "W-who are you..?" Your voice came out timid and small. Myung gi slapped a hand over his forehead "he's the guy i made the deal with." He muttered under his breath. Thanos tilted his head, his cocky grin grew wider. "That's right, so do your best, girl." You looked back at myung gi then him. You'd be lying if you said he wasn't jaw droppingly good looking. You swallowed the lump in your throat. "I don't even know who you are! Why would i sleep with y-" you were cut off as thanos covered your mouth with his hand. "Quiet, slut. Don'tcha see people are sleeping?" His face inched closer to yours. Myung gi watched all this unfold before him, his stomach churned as he watched thanos treat you so poorly. Thanos peeled his hand off your mouth, now muffling your protests with his own mouth. His lips came crashing onto yours, taking you in a deep, rough kiss. You wanted to push him off but something in you made you kiss him back.

Thanos dipped his tongue into your mouth, exploring it as his teeth clashed into yours. Myung gi held his head in his hands, looking down at the fabric of his blanket as muffled noises and kissing sounds resonated in his ears. Thanos pulled away, a string of saliva connecting your tongues. You panted and he smirked. "On the bed." He demanded and you did as you were told. You crawled onto myung gi's bed and myung gi instantly looked up at you and thanos. "What the fuck? Don't tell me you're gonna fuck on my bed!" He shot thanos a glare. Thanos simply chuckled "yes we are, and you're going to watch us." He smirked viciously as myung gi's eyes widened. Myung gi was sitting against his pillow and you sat on the other end of the bed, facing him. Thanos sat behind you, his hands exploring your body. You leaned into his touch, pressing your back against his chest as he groped your tits through the fabric of your tracksuit. Your breath became ragged as he gave your breast a particularly harsh squeeze. "How's it feel watching your girl getting felt up by 'nother man huh?" Thanos snickered at the way myung gi stared daggers at him.

Myung gi watched shamefully as thanos continued touching and groping you. The lewd noises and expressions you made had myung gi clenching his jaw, a glint of envy flashing through his eyes. Thanos kept direct eye contact with myung gi as he slipped his hand inside your pants, giving your clit deep strokes. Your body tensed and your back arched, you let out soft moans as thanos rubbed your pussy lazily. "I'm feelin' a bit nice today, how bout we share her, hm?" Thanos said as he slapped your pussy making you yelp. Myung gi muttered something under his breath before grabbing you by the throat and pressing his lips onto yours. Thanos cooed from behind continuing his movements on your clit. If someone beside you were to wake up, they'd see the sinful sight of you sandwiched between two guys. You moaned into myung gi's mouth as thanos fastened his pace on your sensitive bud. You could feel the tent in his pant grinding against your ass. Myung gi sucked on your tongue as he grabbed your hand and guided it towards his bulge. He rubbed his clothed erection against your soft palm as thanos grinded his against your ass. You felt so dirty for getting so fucking wet.

Myung gi pulled away, panting as he eagerly pulled his pants down. Thanos saw this and smirked, removing his hand from your pussy making you whine. Thanos followed after myung gi, pulling down his track pants just enough to let his cock free. "What you waiting for, girl? Strip for us" you obliged, taking off your shirt and pants. Thanos positioned you on all fours, already dragging his heavy head up and down your soaked slit. Myung gi tapped the tip of his cock on your lips, signaling you to open your mouth. You circled his tip with your tongue before licking a stripe through his slit, gaining a groan from him. "Bet her mouth feels good" thanos mumbled as he began pushing in slowly. His fat cock stretched out your walls making your toes curl. Before you could make a noise, myung gi shoved his dick into your mouth, the sudden intrusion making you gag around his cock. Thanos bottomed out in one swift thrust, if myung gi's cock wasn't shoved down your throat right now, you would've been screaming. Thanos didn't bother giving you time to adjust as his hips started moving. He grabbed your plushy hips to hold you in place and started ramming his dick into you without mercy. You choked and moaned around myung gi's cock as he fucked your face. His hands tangled in your hair as he thrusted into your mouth, his balls slapping against your chin. Getting used by two guys like this was something you should've been ashamed of but god did it turn you on. Feeling thanos' tip nudge your cervix repeatedly while your mouth was full of cock was an undeniably good experience. You grabbed myung gi's thighs to keep balance as he kept fucking your mouth. Grunts, groans, moans and squelching noises filled the air, you were concerned that someone would wake up to see you getting used like a cheap whore. "Fuck.. your mouth feels so fucking good, you're being so good for us" thanos groaned behind you as he felt your pussy clench around his cock due to myung gi's words. "You like getting used like a cum sock don't you, slut? You love getting stuffed with 2 cocks, shit, you're such a filthy girl" thanos kept snapping his hips against yours and myung gi kept using your warm mouth. Myung gi's thrusts stuttered as he was nearing his release, after a few sloppy thrusts his hot seed came pouring down your throat. He looked down at you, admiring how pretty you looked with your nose burried in his pubes, teary eyes, drool dripping down your chin and plump lips wrapped around his cock. "Swallow, baby." His expression softened slightly as he pulled out. You swallowed his cum before he swiped his thumb over your lips.

You yelped as thanos pulled you flush against his body by your hair, his pace getting more ruthless. He held up your limp body as he kept rutting into you, watching you whine and moan. "Dude shut her up, she'll wake people up with her dirty moans" he sounded out of breath, he felt just as good as you did. Myung gi kissed you in order to supress your moans, his hand crept up to your boob, squeezing it gently. He pulled away and planted a soft kiss to your forehead. "Keep quiet baby, you don't want people to know you're getting used like this do you?" He smiled at you ever so sweetly when you nodded and tried your best to keep quiet. Thanos' hips suddenly stuttered as he was nearing his release. His breathing got heavier as his thrusts got sloppier. "I'm gonna fill her slutty pussy up with my cum and you're gonna watch me do it, mg coin." Thanos smirked behind you before burying his cock deep inside you and releasing his warm thick seed. Your eyes widened and so did myung gi's, you couldn't afford to get pregnant and go through abortion, again. Thanos let go of you and you fell forward but myungi caught you. "The fuck? Did you just nut in her?" Myung gi scowled. "Yes, yes i did" thanos chuckled as he pulled his pants up. "You had a hefty amount to pay anyway"

[yuwuta]

love f2l where he’s already hopelessly in love with you and pining in a way that’s so obvious to everyone else but you, but also love the moment in f2l where it clicks that “oh shit… i think my friend just turned me on.” even better when one person doesn’t realize they’ve turned the other one on and they’ve just gotta live with the memory replaying in their head for a few days. friends keep saying they’re distracted and they just nod their head like yeah uh sorry… was uh… sorry what were we talking about? bc these days if it’s not about that moment, zero processing has gone on 

megumi and satoru are the worst at coping with this. 

for megumi, it’s such a 180, a switch has been completely turned on when it happens, that it makes him upset. he can’t even tell if he’s angry that it happened in the first place, that he couldn’t tell he was attracted to you before, that he can’t stop thinking about it now, or that it’s possible that other people could have already had this realization and be thinking of you like this too. every option brings a mean scowl to his face. and it’s embarrassing above all because you were just trying to take off your shoes. when lifting your leg and holding onto to his bicep wasn’t enough, you crouch down to struggle with the straps instead. megumi sighs—all he wanted to do was get your drunken ass home in one piece and now you’re crouched down in the middle of the street, and when he looks down to see what’s taking so long, that’s when it hits him. you bent down like that, looking up at him and groaning and pulling on his shirt and whining for him to help you does very terrible things to him. and it shouldn’t, you’re only calling for him because you lack the hand-eye coordination (and clearly critical thinking because this is the middle of the road and you cannot walk barefoot) right now to undo your shoes, but it’s your blown pupils and pout and the calling for him—you have to stop whining. and saying his name. immediately—not to mention the angle and tilt of your head to look up at him. megumi can barely help himself, much less you, which is why he grumbles, hoists you up by the scruff of your neck so you’re standing up right. you giggle in your haze but megumi just hisses his teeth, tells you “stop looking at me like that,” and before your mind can catch up, he grabs you by the waist and hoists you over his shoulder because looking at your face is not an option right now. and this is for the best for everyone—now your feet don’t hurt, you’ve stopped groaning, there’s no more eye contact, and megumi has the rest of the walk back to your apartment to contemplate what the fuck just happened to him 

for satoru, it’s actually partially his fault, because not only is it so far from sexual and yet turns him on anyway, but he’s so annoying that his actions lead to a cascade of other terrible turn-ons that and now it’s a cyclical problem. you’re just borrowing something of his for the convince of it—his glasses because it’s sunny, or maybe his jacket because it’s cold, something small and innocent—but it ignites such a strong flame in him that his visceral reaction is to snatch it right back from you, and run away like some school girl. “hey—satoru what the fuck, come on, you weren’t even using it!” you call, but your voice is already an echo at the speed he’s scurried away from you. the flash vision of you in his belongings was terrible, but it’s the memory of it that makes it worse, brings a blush to his face, and leave him shaking his head like a crazy person because what the fuck this is insane. you didn’t even do anything so he has no reason to act like this, there’s no way the slightest insinuation of you thinking of him/his belongings as something to borrow, or hold, or have should make him react this way, but it does. and he hates it. and he’s not normal about it at all, and it takes you confronting him, grabbing him by the shoulders and shaking him back and forth, asking him what the fuck is wrong with him, which is warranted, but worse because that also leaves him red from his face to his check with Awful Realization Numbers 2 and 3: (2) you usually just Deal with him being strange, but right now you’re mad and you’re really hot when you’re mad, and (3) you’re very close to choking him out right now and if you did, he wouldn’t stop you

yuuji is the one who has had this effect on more people than he knows, which is hilarious to think about because he’s either completely oblivious, or using his charm to play innocent. and when you have that moment, you’re definitely left stunned. you were just fishing for more snacks for your self-care night—a tradition that used to between you and nobara, but now includes megumi, and most times yuuji, but tonight, he had plans with todo, which you were grateful for because there’s no way you could have been around him after what happened. in a hurry to grab his water bottle from the fridge, yuuji doesn’t bother you with words to maneuver through the cramped kitchen, just mindlessly puts his hands on your hips, lifts you, pivots, puts you down, grabs his water bottle, puts it on the counter, lifts you again, pivots, and places you right back where you were, flashing you a million-dollar smile, before grabbing his bottle and rushing out to catch the bus. you’re left blinking, body on autopilot as you finally reach for the chips, and zombie-like when you make your way back to the living room where nobara’s putting a sheet mask on megumi. when you’re finally seated on the couch, you blink for the first time, blurting out to nobody in particular, “is… is itadori hot?” and it’s comedic how quick, blasé, and autonomic the in-sync replies from both megumi and nobara are, “yes”, “unfortunately.” oh. well that’s reassuring you suppose. you might have been the last to realize it, but at least you’re not alone. 

if you told yuuta he had the ability to seduce anybody he would probably just laugh awkwardly and think it’s some kind of joke. the great irony is that rooming with him has left you with many instances to confirm that he is attractive, but the defining moment is when you realize just how much yuuta has grown in his year abroad. your apartment is nice and relatively modern, but there are still some tight spaces. usually you and yuuta just giggle while shuffling around each other, but today, you feel like you’ve gotten between a rock and another rock because when did yuuta—your scrawny, awkward, endearing yuuta—gain fifty pounds of muscle? it’s a terrible moment for you to be squished between him and the tiny enclosure of your storage closet and even worse that he’s the one who apologies, and smiles, and carries on reaching for the spare napkins while you’re left with the filthy thoughts about your best friend.