#but i stand by it completely and with all of my heart

[lostfracturess]

REMEMBER ME IN SUMMER — SATORU GOJO

pairing — one night stand!satoru gojo x fem!reader

summary — six months ago, you left satoru gojo's apartment before sunrise, thinking you'd never see him again. now, trapped in a beach house for a weekend with mutual friends, you're forced to face the man who doesn't seem to remember that night—or does he? between shared walls, heated touches, and games of pretend, you're starting to think maybe one night wasn't enough after all. but in a house full of friends, some things are better left in the past… right?

word count — 9.5 k

genre/tags — beach house AU, summer romance, one night stand to lovers, mutual pining, fluff, tension, awkward reunions, friends gathering, miscommunication, beach vibes, satoru is a little menace in this one

warnings — 18+ ONLY. contains explicit sexual content, alcohol consumption, all characters aged up (mid 20s), language

author's note — hi everyone ! this fic came out of nowhere, and i literally wrote it in three days, but i really love the idea and the summer vibes in this one, even tho i wrote it while it was literally snowing outside, but somewhere on earth it's summer rn, so why not post it lol. hope you enjoy this mess of a summer romance story as much as i enjoyed writing it ! <3 (credit/art)

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The last person you expected to see in Okinawa was Satoru Gojo.

Yet there he was, lounging on the deck of the beach house like he belonged there, white hair catching the sunlight as he laughed at something someone had said. Your heart tumbled over itself as memories of that night six months ago flooded back unbidden.

"You okay?" Maki nudged you with her elbow. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

More like the ghost of past bad decisions. "I'm fine," you managed, gripping your weekend bag tighter. "Wasn't expecting so many people."

The beach house was supposed to be a simple weekend getaway with close friends. But somewhere between planning and execution, it had turned into a "friends of friends" situation to fill the eight-bedroom house Okkotsu's family had offered.

"Yeah, Yuta's cousin's boyfriend invited some people to fill the space," Maki explained, completely unaware of your internal crisis. "That's Satoru over there, by the way. He's actually pretty fun once you get past the whole—" She gestured vaguely at all of him.

You wanted to laugh. Or cry. Maybe both. Because you were already very familiar with how "fun" Satoru Gojo could be.

Six months ago, you'd met him at a bar in Tokyo. He'd been charming and gorgeous, all easy smiles and playful banter. One drink had turned into several, flirting had turned into kissing, and kissing had turned into...

Well.

You'd slipped out of his apartment before dawn, leaving nothing but a lipstick stain on his collar and a dip in his pillow. It had seemed like the right thing to do at the time. You weren't looking for anything serious, and someone like him definitely wasn't the settling down type.

Now, watching him chat lively with your friends like the universe's cruelest joke, you wondered if you should have at least left your number.

"Girl," Maki waved her hand in front of your face. "You sure you're okay?"

Before you could answer, Satoru looked up. His eyes met yours across the deck, and for a moment, your heart stopped. 

But there was no recognition in those sea blue eyes. No hint that he remembered the way you'd gasped his name in the dark, the way his hands had traced every inch of your skin, the way he'd whispered "stay" against your shoulder just before you'd fallen asleep.

He just smiled politely, the same smile he’s probably giving everyone else too, and went back to his conversation.

Right. Of course he didn't remember. You were probably just one in a long line of one-night stands for someone like him. The thought shouldn't hurt as much as it did.

"Come on," Maki said, tugging you towards the house. "Let's get settled in before the others arrive.”

Up close, the beach house was even more impressive. A sprawling three-story mansion of white stone and floor-to-ceiling windows that caught the afternoon light like rippling water, a wraparound veranda with a cozy sitting area led to a private path down to the beach, lined with swaying palms and colourful flowers.

Inside, the house opened into a huge room with soaring ceilings and an open floor plan that made the space feel endless. Ocean views followed you everywhere through the massive windows, and the whole place smelled of salt and lemon.

"The bedrooms are upstairs," Maki said as she led you up a floating staircase. "Most of them are on the second floor, but there are two master bedrooms on the third."

The universe, it seemed, had a twisted sense of humor. Not only did you have to spend the weekend pretending you didn’t know how Satoru's brows draw together when he'd cum, but your room ended up right next to his—the two largest bedrooms on the top floor, sharing a wall and a connecting balcony. Of course.

Your room was bigger than your entire apartment in Tokyo, with a king-size bed draped in soft white linens. One wall was entirely glass, offering an unobstructed view of the ocean, while the other walls were decorated with pictures and minimalist art.

"My god, the view’s amazing!" Maki gushed and threw open the balcony doors. The sound of waves immediately filled the room, along with fresh, salty ocean air. "You can see the whole beach from here." 

But you were too busy staring at the wall next to you, where a door that must lead to Satoru's room was hidden behind a cupboard. You could hear muffled movement from his room, the sound of his laugh drifting through the wall that suddenly felt far too thin and your mind helpfully supplied memories of other sounds he could make, and you wondered if it was too late to fake some sudden illness and go home.

"Yeah," you said, dropping onto the edge of the bed. "Amazing."

Maki flopped down beside you, bouncing slightly on the plush mattress. "I know I've been here like five times already with Yuta, but it never gets old." She rolled onto her stomach and rested her chin on her hands. "Usually it's just us and his family, maybe a few cousins. This is the first time we're doing a friend group thing."

You tried to focus on her words instead of the sound of suitcases being wheeled into the room next door. "How long have you and Yuta been coming here?"

"Since we started dating three years ago. His family does this whole summer tradition thing." She smiled. "First time I came, I was so nervous I barely left the room. Now it feels like a second home." She sat up, crossing her legs. “And since his parents said we could use it this weekend, we thought why not invite friends.”

Through the wall, you could hear male voices chatting and laughing, followed by the sound of a door sliding open. Probably the balcony doors. Your shared balcony. Where he could walk past your windows at any time.

“You’re okay with this, right? Yuta’s friends are actually really fun once you get to know them. Especially Satoru, even tho he can be a pain in the ass.” Your stupid heart tumbled over itself once more at his name. "And single, if you're interested. I could—"

"No!" The word came out louder than intended, and you heard the conversation next door pause briefly. Lowering your voice, you added, "I mean, no thanks. Not really looking for anything right now."

Maki gave you a strange look. "You sure you're okay? You've been weird since we got here."

"Just tired from the drive," you lied and stood up. "Maybe I'll take a quick shower before everyone else arrives."

"Okay..." She didn't sound convinced but got up anyway. "I should go find Yuta anyway, make sure he's not letting Satoru destroy any of Yuta's mum's favourite vases."

You waited until she left before falling with your face first onto the bed with a groan. Perfect. Not only did you have to spend the weekend next door to your one night stand who might or might not remember you, but now your best friend was trying to set you up with him.

Through the wall, you heard Satoru laugh at something, the sound familiar enough to make your chest ache. 

It was going to be a very long weekend.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 

You'd barely finished unpacking when Yuji burst into your room without knocking. "Hey! We're setting up a net for beach volleyball. You in?"

"Ah, I don't really—"

"Everyone's playing!" He was already on his way back to the door. "Even Megumi, and you know how he is about fun."

Before you could form a proper excuse, Maki appeared behind him. "Come on, it'll be fun, the sun is out and it’s better than hiding up here all afternoon."

And that's how you found yourself trudging down to the beach, trying to convince yourself this was fine. Totally fine. Just a fun game of volleyball with friends. Nothing to worry about.

But then the boys started stripping off their shirts. It was like watching some ridiculous scene out of Top Gun as they all shed their shirt in the afternoon heat. But it was Satoru who made your brain go silent completely. 

He pulled his shirt off, and suddenly you were having vivid flashbacks to exactly how that toned chest felt under your hands. The sun caught his hair like a halo, and when he stretched his arms over his head, the muscles in his back shifted in ways that should not make your knees so weak, but here you were, rooted to the spot, your pulse racing as if it had a mind of its own.

"You're staring," Maki whispered next to you.

"I'm not," you said, even though you definitely were. How could you not? It was like someone had taken every beach volleyball scene from every summer movie ever and combined them into one ridiculous moment.

Teams were forming, and with an uneven number, you volunteered to sit this round out. Not that you were particularly eager to participate in the first place. You were perfectly happy watching from the safety of your beach towel, where the risk of accidentally brushing against Satoru's unnecessarily perfect body was thankfully minimized.

The game started, and it quickly became clear that everyone was taking it way too seriously, as Satoru and Yuji seemed to be in some sort of competition to see who could spike the ball more impressively. 

"Show off," you muttered to yourself as Satoru delivered a rather dramatic jump serve, the ball landing dangerously close to your foot. But he must have heard you, because he caught your eye with a wink that made your stomach flutter. "Like what you see?"

"I've seen better," you said before you could stop yourself.

His eyebrows shot up and a slow smile spread across his face. "Have you now?"

Oh god. Were you flirting? This was definitely flirting. You needed to stop staring at the way sweat was making his skin glisten and focus on... literally anything else.

"Pay attention!" Nobara yelled, and Satoru barely managed to dodge the ball she'd spiked directly at his head.

The game continued, growing more competitive with each round. You had to admit, it was entertaining watching your friends become more and more dramatic with each point. One of Yuta’s cousins and Yuji had some sort of rivalry going on, while Maki and Nobara were trash-talking each other.

But it was Satoru who kept drawing your attention. The way he moved was almost unfair and you found yourself following the drops of sweat as they made their way down his neck, remembering how that skin had tasted under your tongue.

"Incoming!"

You looked up just in time to see the volleyball heading straight for your face. Before you could react, Satoru dove in front of you and caught the ball just inches from your nose. The movement sent him sprawling across your legs, his face entirely too close to yours.

You blinked at him for a few moments, then whispered, "Thank you.” But the words came out too soft, almost like they had that night in Tokyo when he'd helped you into a taxi and then convinced you not to take it and instead come home with him.

Time seemed to slow, the crashing waves and voices of the others fading into white noise as Satoru's eyes met yours. For a moment, something flickered in those blue depths—a flash of recognition, perhaps even remembrance. 

His breath caught, barely noticeable, and his hand on your leg tightened ever so slightly. You watched his eyes, saw the exact moment his gaze dropped to your lips, and suddenly you were back in that Tokyo bar, both of you caught in that same magnetic pull.

"You're welcome," he said, his voice so low that only you could hear it. There was something in his tone, a hint of question, like he was trying to place a hazy dream. His thumb brushed against your skin, possibly by accident, possibly not, sending shivers up your spine.

The moment stretched, taut as a bowstring, thick with shared memories—memories you weren't even sure he had. Then someone yelled "Dinner!" from the direction of the house, and the spell broke.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟  

The sun was setting by the time everyone had showered and gathered around the huge dining table on the deck. Fairy lights twinkled overhead and the sound of the waves could be heard in the background as the chaos of fifteen people trying to organize a meal unfolded.

You'd taken extra care getting ready, telling yourself it was just because of the salt and sand, not because of the way Satoru had looked at you on the beach. You'd chosen a light summer dress that happened to be the exact shade of blue as his eyes—pure coincidence, of course—and had let your hair dry naturally in the sea breeze.

Yuta ended up ordering way too much from the local seafood restaurant, you concluded as you surveyed the spread of food on the table. 

You ended up squeezed between Maki and Megumi, which should have been a relief. Instead, you found yourself very aware of Satoru sitting directly across from you, his hair still slightly damp from his shower, wearing a loose white linen shirt that he should really button up and stop teasing the entire table with glimpses of his toned chest.

"Pass the crab?" he asked, and when you handed him the plate, your fingers brushed. The contact sent a shiver through you, and you could have sworn you saw his breath catch. But then he was turning to laugh at something Yuji said, and you were left wondering if you'd imagined the whole thing.

"—and then he just fell face first right into the sand!" Yuji was saying, gesturing wildly with his chopsticks. "You should have seen it!"

"We were all there, literally two hours ago," Megumi deadpanned.

"The game was rigged anyway," Nobara said, reaching for another plate of grilled shrimp. "You can't put Mr. Perfect over here on a team and expect it to be fair." She jerked her thumb in Satoru's direction.

"What can you do?" Satoru said, his eyebrows knitted together, but a grin played on his lips. "I just happen to be naturally gifted." And then his eyes caught yours once more across the table. 

Heat crept up the back of your neck as you remembered how he'd felt when he'd sprawled across your legs, his skin sun warm and slightly sandy. How his touch had lingered just a fraction too long to be casual. 

Something had changed in his expression, so subtle that anyone else might have missed it. But you'd spent hours that night memorizing his faces. His smirk when he had you right on the edge, his soft smile when you were trembling beneath him, the way his eyes darkened just before he—

Maki snorted. "Yeah, sure." And you looked over at her, breaking the eye contact before you could do something stupid like climb across the table and find out if he tasted as good as you remembered.

When the dinner was over, Nobara suggested to play drinking games, truth or dare to be specific, to which "What are we, fifteen?" Megumi commented but Maki already chimed in with "Never have I ever" and so it was decided.

Your stomach dropped. The last thing you needed was a drinking game where people confessed their secrets. Especially with the way Satoru kept looking at you, like he was one memory away from connecting dots you really didn't want connected.

"I think I'll pass," you said, pushing your plate away. "The sun really did take it out of me."

You gathered your plates and the sound of the others setting up their drinking game followed you into the kitchen—Yuji's voice carrying over everyone else's as he argued about rules, Nobara shouting something about "no questions about exes," and Megumi's long drawn out sighs.

A salty ocean breeze swept into the kitchen through the open wall of windows overlooking the water as you rinsed your plate. "You know," a voice came from behind you, making you jump, "I was starting to think you hate me."

Your heart skipped a beat. You didn't need to turn around to know it was Satoru—would recognize that voice anywhere, had spent months trying to forget how it sounded when it was rough after he’d cum. But you turned anyway, finding him leaning against the doorframe and the kitchen suddenly felt so much smaller. 

"What?" The word came out embarrassingly breathless.

"Let me rephrase, for someone who doesn't hate me, you're doing an impressive job of avoiding me."

"I'm not avoiding you.” You turned back to the sink. "I'm doing dishes."

"Sure. The dishes." His voice got closer, and you could feel the heat of him just behind you. "Though I have to wonder why someone would work so hard to avoid someone they've never met before."

Your hands stilled under the running water. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"You've barely looked at me all day." He was close enough now that you could smell his perfume that had lingered on your clothes for days after that night. "Want to tell me what I did to deserve the cold shoulder? Because usually, I at least remember if I've pissed someone off."

Your heart pounded so loudly you were sure he could hear it, but at the same time the irony of his words made you want to laugh. "You haven't done anything," you said, which was technically true. He hadn't done anything wrong. Except maybe be too good in bed and then forget about it entirely.

"No?" His voice dropped lower, and you could feel his breath on your neck. "Then why—" He cut himself off. "Wait. Have we met before?"

You spun around, hands dripping water onto the floor. The motion brought you chest to chest with him, trapped between his body and the counter. "No," you said, too quickly, way too quickly. "Definitely not."

"You sure about that? Because you seem familiar—"

"Must just have one of those faces."

He moved closer still, one hand braced on the counter beside your hip, effectively caging you in. "Is that so? Because I’m sure I’d remember a pretty one like yours." You felt your breath catch in your throat, every nerve in your body screaming. He was going to kiss you, wasn't he? You should probably do something. Like move. Or breathe.

But then he simply stepped back, his smile widening. "Sorry. Must have mistaken you for someone else,” he said and the loss of his warmth felt like whiplash, leaving you cold despite the summer heat that still lingered in the air. You watched him retreat towards the door, casual as anything, like he hadn't just turned your world sideways.

Through the open door, laughter spilled in from the deck, breaking the spell that had held you captive. Satoru paused in the doorway for a moment, silhouetted against the warm light from outside, before disappearing back into the noise of your friends.

You stayed at the sink, trying to convince yourself that the heat in your cheeks was just from the summer air and ignoring the way your heart refused to settle in your chest. What had just happened? You had no idea. But one thing was painfully certain.

This weekend was going to be a long one.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟  

Next morning, you decided to get up early and have your coffee on the beach before anyone else was awake. Sleep had been hard to come by anyway, with too many thoughts of certain one night stands keeping your mind racing. 

Dawn was just beginning to break over the horizon, painting the sky in orange and gold watercolours and the ocean stretched out before you, quiet and calm, each small wave catching the early light like diamonds.

You'd wrapped yourself in an oversized cardigan against the morning chill, bare feet buried in sand that was still cool from the night before. And of course, because the universe hated you, that's when Satoru appeared.

"Couldn't sleep?" he asked, settling into the sand beside you without invitation.

You clutched your coffee mug tighter. "Something like that."

"Yeah, me neither." He stretched his long legs out in front of him, and you definitely didn't notice how his shorts rode up slightly, definitely weren't thinking about how those thighs had felt under your hands. "Keep having these weird dreams."

"Oh?"

"Mmm." As he turned to look at you, the rising sun painted his profile gold, catching his eyelashes. There was something different about him in this light — softer somehow, more like the man who'd asked you to stay than the one who'd cornered you in the kitchen last night. "About a girl in a black dress. Red lipstick. The most amazing laugh I've ever heard."

Your heart stopped.

"Funny thing is," he continued casually, "I can never quite see her face in the dreams. But I remember how she tasted. How she felt pinned beneath me. How she clenching around my fingers. How she said my name when she—"

"Stop," you whispered.

"Why?" His voice was softer now. "Because you don't want to talk about that night? Or because you thought I wouldn't remember?"

You stared at the ocean, unable to meet his gaze. "You didn't seem to yesterday."

"Don’t be stupid. I recognized you the moment you walked into the beach house."

Your coffee nearly slipped from your hands. "What?"

"Did you really think I wouldn't remember the girl who stole my favourite shirt on her way out the door?"

Heat flooded your cheeks, you totally forgotten about the shirt. "Then yesterday, in the kitchen—"

"I wanted to see how long you'd keep pretending." He smiled, the bastard had the audacity to smile at you when he revealed that he was playing you the whole time. "You're cute when you're nervous, you know that?”

"You're mocking me."

"Mocking you?" His eyebrows rose. Then he leaned closer to you, but you still refused to look at him. "I spent six months trying to find the girl with the kind of laugh that makes you feel drunk just hearing it, who left before I could ask for her number—" 

"It was just one night," you interrupted.

"Was it? Because I distinctly remember asking you to stay."

"I couldn't."

"Couldn't? Or wouldn't?"

You finally met his gaze fully, and immediately wished you hadn't. Because he was looking at you the same way he had that night. He was enjoying this, wasn't he? Playing with you, teasing you, making you feel like a flustered schoolgirl. 

"Does it matter?" you asked.

"You're really a bit slow, aren't you?"

You wanted to protest, to tell him exactly what you thought of his arrogant everything, but then Maki's voice carried across the beach, "Breakfast! Come and get it before Yuji eats everything!"

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟  

The breakfast table was just as chaotic as the dinner the night before. Fifteen people crammed around the table had that effect, especially with Yuji already piling his plate high with pancakes while Nobara complained about him taking too many. 

You'd barely settled into an empty chair when Satoru slid into the seat next to you, as if he hadn't just admitted that he'd been playing jokes on you the whole day before. 

"Can you pass me the syrup?" he asked innocently, but there was nothing innocent about the way his thigh pressed against yours under the table. 

You handed him the bottle without looking at him, trying to focus on pouring your coffee without spilling it everywhere. Which was made all the more difficult when his hand found your knee under the table.

"So what's everyone's plans for today?" Maki asked, passing around a plate of fresh fruit.

You tried to concentrate on the conversation, you really did. But Satoru's hand was inching higher up your thigh, and your brain was shorted out. You kicked him under the table, aiming for his shin.

He didn't even flinch, just smiled wider and continued whatever conversation he was having with Megumi about later activities, all while his fingers danced along the hem of your shorts. You felt a sudden surge of heat, definitely not from the summer sun.

"You okay?" Nobara asked suddenly. "You look a bit flushed."

"Fine!" Your voice came out higher than intended as Satoru's fingers skimmed just slightly under the edge of your shorts. "Just... hot."

"It is pretty warm this morning," Satoru agreed, his tone perfectly pleasant even as his thumb pressed into that sensitive spot on your inner thigh that he somehow remembered. The bastard. You kicked him again, harder this time.

"Did someone just kick the table?" Maki looked around suspiciously.

"Must have been the wind," you said stupidly.

You grabbed his wrist under the table, intending to push his hand away, but he just interlaced his fingers with yours and kept them there on your thigh. It was like he was asserting dominance, staking his claim, and you were suddenly trapped.

"Hey, are you sure you're okay?" Yuji asked through a mouthful of pancakes. "You're acting weird."

"Totally fine," you managed. "Just didn't sleep well."

"Hmm, me neither," Satoru chimed in, his voice all false innocence. "Must be all these weird dreams I keep having." You dug your nails into his hand in warning, but he just squeezed your hand in response, his grip tightening.

"Dreams?" Nobara asked.

"Oh, you know," Satoru began thoughtfully, "the kind that keep you up all night, thinking about... things that got away."

You were going to murder him. Slowly. Possibly with the butter knife you were currently gripping way too tight.

"That's... weirdly poetic for you," Maki said, raising an eyebrow.

"You wouldn't want to know,” he replied, and you felt his fingers inch just slightly higher once more, making you jump and bang your knee on the table.

"Jesus, what is wrong with you two this morning?" Nobara asked, looking between you and Satoru.

Under the table, you finally managed to grab his hand in yours and hold it still. But that backfired when he started playing with your fingers instead, his thumb brushing across your knuckles in a way that made you gasp. You definitely wanted to kill him. Right after you figured out how to breathe normally again.

"So, beach day? I wanna go snorkelling," Yuji said, thankfully drawing attention away from whatever was going on under the table, and everyone agreed. JJust then, Satoru freed his hand from yours and placed it back on your knee before trailing it up your thigh. 

Okay, nope this had to end now.

"I need more coffee," you announced abruptly, standing up so fast your chair scraped against the deck.

"I'll help," Satoru offered, already rising.

"No!" The word came out too sharp, making everyone look at you strangely. "I mean, I'm good. Thanks."

You practically fled into the kitchen, your skin still tingling where he'd touched you. Through the window, you could see him chatting with the others, looking completely unaffected while you were here trying to remember how to make your heart beat normally.

When is this weekend going to end?

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟  

"You sure you're okay?" Maki asked, swimming up beside you. "You've been weird all morning. Is the sun too much?"

"I'm fine," you said for what felt like the hundredth time today. "I’m not used to be around so many people."

The water was crystal clear, stretching out in various shades of blue that seemed to go on forever. Everyone had eagerly jumped into snorkeling, with Yuji and Nobara already in a heated competition about who could spot the most fish.

You adjusted your mask for the tenth time, trying to focus on anything except how good Satoru looked in just swim shorts. He was a few meters away, the sunlight catching the droplets of water that clung to his ridiculously toned shoulders.

My God. You needed distance. You needed space to breathe, to think, to do anything other than stare at him.

"If you say so." Maki didn't look convinced. "But tell me if something’s bothering you, okay?"

If only she knew. "Sure."

"Guys, come look at this!" Yuji called from where he was floating near some corals. "Rainbow fish!" 

Everyone swam over to where he was pointing, and you had to admit, the sight was beautiful. Countless colourful fish swam through the coral, creating a vibrant palette under the water.

You followed the fish as a sudden pressure against your calf made you flinch. Satoru. He had brushed against your leg. It could have been an accident, a mere consequence of the crowded water, but somehow, it felt like anything but. You knew better. Nothing about Satoru was ever accidental.

You drifted slightly away from the group, desperately needing to put some distance between yourself and Satoru. The vibrant corals blurred into streaks of colour as you swam further from the group, the shouts of Yuji and Nobara fading.

The water a bit away from them was deeper, a darker shade of blue. As you peered down, you noticed the sandy ground was dotted with small stones, and a different kind of life seemed to thrive here. Sea anemones swayed gently in the current, and schools of silver fish, smaller than the ones near the reef, darted in and out of the anemones.

You floated on your back for a moment, gazing up at the sky, a vast expanse of pale blue flecked with fluffy white clouds as the sun warmed your face. It was so peaceful, and you were happy for the small pause amidst the chaos of the house.

"Beautiful, isn't it?"

You startled at Satoru's voice right behind you, nearly inhaling water through your snorkel. He'd somehow managed to swim up without you noticing, and now he was close enough that his arm brushed yours in the water.

"What are you doing?" you hissed, pulling your snorkel out.

"I know a better spot.” He nodded towards a more secluded area around the curve of the beach. "If you're interested."

You glanced back at the others, but they were all absorbed in whatever Yuji had found. "I don't think—"

"Come on," he said, already swimming away. "Don't you trust me?"

"Not even a little bit." But found yourself following him anyway.

He led you around a small outcropping of rocks, the current tugging gently at your fins, to a quieter part of the reef. His hand on your arm gently guided you through the water. The water here was somehow even clearer, as if a veil had been lifted, revealing a breathtaking underwater scenery with colourful coral formations that created a labyrinth of archways and caverns with small fish swimming in between.

"How did you—"

"I came here earlier this morning," he said, treading water close to you. "While you were pretending to ignore me after breakfast."

"I wasn't—" You cut yourself off as he dove under the surface, the sunlight playing across his back as he swam deeper.

You followed him down, your breath taken away by the sight. This part of the reef was like something out of a documentary. Swarms of tropical fish swirled around you in ribbons of colour, and the coral itself seemed to shine in the filtered sunlight.

When you surfaced, Satoru was watching you with an annoyingly knowing smile. "Worth following me?"

"It's alright," you said, trying to sound unimpressed even though you were anything but.

He laughed. "You're still trying to play hard to get?"

"I'm not playing anything."

"No?" He swam closer, close enough that you could see droplets of water clinging to his eyelashes. "Then why did you follow me here?"

"To see the fish.”

"The fish." His voice was amused. "Sure. That's why you've been watching me all morning?"

"I have not—"

"You know," he cut you off, moving even closer, his body brushing against yours in the water. "You're pretty when you get all flustered. Just like that night in Tokyo. Same flush you had when I made you cum three times.”

Ha? Had he been keeping count or what? You frantically tried to replay that night in your head — there was the first time against his apartment door, then on the kitchen counter, and... oh god, he was right. The bastard had been counting. The smirk on his face told you he knew exactly what you were thinking about.

You splashed water at him. "We are not talking about Tokyo."

He wiped water from his face, grinning. "No? Should we talk about this morning instead? About how you nearly jumped out of your skin when I touched your—"

You dunked him mid-sentence.

He came up spluttering, pushing wet hair from his eyes. "Okay, I probably deserved that."

"You definitely deserved that."

But he laughed, and despite yourself, you found yourself laughing too. There was something infectious about him, something that made it hard to keep your walls up, dissolving your defenses with unnerving ease, like mist beneath the morning sun.

"We should head back," you said finally. "Before they come looking for us."

"Probably," he agreed, but made no move to leave. Instead, he floated closer, until his chest pressed against yours. "Or we could stay here a bit longer. I could remind you of all the other ways I can make you wet."

Heat flooded your body. "Satoru..."

"Yes?" His hands found your waist under the water, pulling you flush against him. One thigh slipped between yours, and you had to bite back a gasp at the friction. "You know, I still remember exactly how you sound when you're trying not to moan my name."

"We can't." But your body betrayed you, arching into his touch as his fingers skimmed along your ribs, dangerously close to your breast.

"Can't?" His lips ghosted over your lips, his thumb tracing circles on your hip under the water in a way that made you think of how those fingers had felt inside you. "Or are you afraid you won't be able to keep quiet this time?"

Before you could answer, Nobara's voice carried across the water. "Where did you guys go?"

You pushed away from him quickly, already swimming back towards the group. "Coming!"

"This isn't over," he called after you, and you could hear the smile in his voice.

"It never started!" you shot back, but you were smiling too.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟  

Satoru spent the rest of the afternoon driving you absolutely insane.

After snorkeling, he'd positioned his beach towel suspiciously close to yours, spending an unnecessary amount of time applying sunscreen to his chest and arms. His movements were deliberately slow, borderline pornographic, fingers sliding over muscle in a way that had you remembering exactly how those muscles had felt flexing under your tongue. 

You knew without a doubt he was putting on a show for you—every movement a reminder of how those arms had looked braced above you as he'd fucked you against his apartment door, how they'd felt pinning your wrists to his sheets.

During lunch, he'd somehow ended up next to you again, his bare thigh pressed hot against yours under the table like this morning had taught him nothing. Except this time, his hand didn't just rest on your knee. It spent the entire meal tracing patterns up your thigh, fingertips dancing dangerous close to where you'd been aching for him.

Your breath caught every time his hand "accidentally" slipped under the hem of your shorts, remembering how those fingers had curled inside you, how they'd made you beg.

The afternoon beach volleyball rematch was even worse. He kept finding excuses to touch you—steadying you with a hand on your waist when you stumbled in the sand (the same way he'd gripped your hips while taking you from behind), reaching around you to grab the ball (his breath hot on your neck like when he'd whispered how good you felt around him), his chest pressing against your back, closer than needed (making you remember how it felt to be pressed between him and that apartment door).

But dinner? Dinner was pure torture.

He'd shown up freshly showered, hair still damp and tousled in that way that made your fingers itch to grab it (like you had when he was between your thighs), wearing a dark blue linen shirt that he hadn't bothered to button properly once more and spent the entire meal finding new ways to make you squirm.

He'd catch your eye across the table and slowly lick sauce off his thumb, making you remember exactly how that tongue had felt when he'd spread you open. When passing dishes, his fingers would brush against yours unnecessarily long, making you shiver. At one point, he'd stretched his arms above his head, his shirt riding up to reveal his lower abs that had you gripping your fork so hard your knuckles turned white.

He knew exactly what he was doing, too—you could tell by the smug look on his face throughout the whole dinner. 

Thankfully, no one else seemed to notice anything amiss. They were all too busy with their own conversations, completely oblivious to the way he was systematically dismantling your sanity with nothing more than glances and touches.

Every time you thought you'd gotten yourself under control, he'd do something else — run his fingers through his hair the same way he had when you'd been on your knees in front of him, or bite his lip in a way that had you crossing your legs under the table. By dessert, you were a mess of sexual frustration and murderous impulses. 

He was enjoying this, the bastard. Testing your control, seeing how far he could push before you broke. And the most infuriating part? 

It was working. 

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟  

After dinner, everyone wandered into the living room in various states of food induced laziness. You'd barely managed to claim a corner of the big couch when Nobara disappeared into the kitchen, returning with an armful of wine bottles and a certain look in her eye that spelled trouble.

"No one move," she announced, setting the bottles on the coffee table. "I have an idea."

"Your ideas usually end with someone crying," Megumi commented from his spot on the floor.

"Or arrested," Maki added helpfully.

"Or both," you muttered, trying to ignore how Satoru had somehow appeared in the armchair closest to your corner of the couch. He'd rolled up his sleeves during dinner, forearms on full display, and you were having a hard time not staring at his fingers. Fingers that you knew from experience felt so good in your mouth to keep you from—

"Never have I ever!" Nobara's voice cut through your dangerous train of thought. A collective groan rose from the group.

"Not again," Megumi said, already trying to get up.

"Sit your ass down," Nobara commanded, pushing him back down. "We're bonding."

"We bonded plenty last night," you Yuta tried, but Nobara was having none of it and before you knew it, everyone agreed.

"Okay, I'll start easy," Yuji said, clearly excited despite his earlier protests. "Never have I ever cheated on a test."

Several people drank, including Satoru—and you, okay let’s be real. 

The questions started innocent enough. Never have I ever broken a bone. Never have I ever been arrested. Never have I ever dyed my hair. But as the wine flowed, the questions got progressively more suggestive.

"Never have I ever kissed someone of the same gender," Maki said, and half the circle drank. "Never have I ever faked it," was Nobara's contribution, and several people groaned but drank.

You were starting to feel a bit hazy, the wine making everything feel warm and soft around the edges. Which was dangerous, because Satoru kept looking at you like he was remembering exactly how you'd sounded that night when you definitely hadn't been faking anything.

"Never have I ever," one of Yuta’s cousins announced then, "had sex with someone in this room." For a moment, no one moved. Then Yuta and Maki drank, of course. And then Satoru raised his own glass slowly and took a long sip.

"Who?" Nobara shrieked, looking around the circle. "Satoru just drank, so someone else here has to—" Her gaze swept over everyone suspiciously.

"Someone's lying," Maki sang, already tipsy enough to find this hilarious. "Come on, fess up!"

You kept your face carefully neutral, even as you felt Satoru's eyes burning into you. You wouldn't give him the satisfaction. Not this time.

"Maybe it was before any of us knew each other," Yuji suggested, but Nobara shook her head.

"No way. Look at his face!" She pointed accusingly at Satoru. "He's got that look. You know, that 'I know something you don't know' look."

Satoru just smiled lazily from his armchair, swirling the wine in his glass. "Maybe I just like keeping you all guessing."

"You're a dumbass," Nobara said, but the group's attention was already shifting as Yuji launched into the next question, something about falling asleep at work.

You released a breath you hadn't realized you were holding, but made the mistake of glancing at Satoru and he gave you a look that sent a shiver of heat through you over his wine glass. 

God, you were going to murder him. Slowly. Painfully. Preferably with the very wine glass he was currently smirking into. 

Who did he think he was, just casually drinking like that, nearly exposing everything? He could have at least warned you, given you some sign he was about to blow up your secret. But no, he'd just taken that deliberate sip, probably getting hard on watching you squirm as you tried to keep your poker face. 

That sick bastard.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟  

Sleep was impossible. You'd been tossing and turning for hours, replaying the day's events in your mind—from that moment in the ocean to his deliberate almost-reveal during the game. The walls of this fancy beach house seemed paper thin at night, every small sound amplified in the darkness.

That's how you heard his door open around 2 AM, followed by quiet footsteps heading downstairs.

You waited a few minutes, telling yourself you were just thirsty, that going downstairs for water had nothing to do with knowing he was maybe down there. The wooden steps creaked softly under your bare feet as you made your way down.

Silvery moonlight streamed through the massive windows, creating silver patterns on the marble countertops of the kitchen. Satoru stood at the island, drinking water from a glass, looking unfairly handsome in just sleep shorts and a wrinkled t-shirt.

"Couldn't sleep?" he whispered when he spotted you.

"What's your game, Satoru?" You kept your voice equally low, padding closer. "That thing earlier? During never have I ever?"

"Game? I'm not the one who was afraid of drinking".

"Because unlike you, I don't feel the need to announce our business to everyone."

He set his glass down, turning to face you fully. "Our business? So you admit there's something to announce?"

"That's not—" You caught yourself before your voice could rise. "What are you trying to achieve here? With all the—" you gestured vaguely, "touching and teasing and almost exposing everything?"

He stepped closer, and suddenly the kitchen felt way too small, even though it was like three times the size of your Tokyo apartment. "Maybe I just want everyone to know that night wasn't as casual for me as you seem to think it was."

You felt the weight of his words settle in the quiet kitchen, heavy with meaning you weren't prepared to unpack while moonlight caught his features in a way that made him look softer, almost vulnerable.

"What are you talking about? It was only one night."

"Was it?" He moved closer, until you had to tilt your head back to keep eye contact. "Because I remember asking you to stay. I remember waking up to an empty bed and spent the next six months thinking about why you left."

"I... you were just saying that in the moment. People say lots of things in the moment."

"Do they?" His hand came up to brush a strand of hair from your face. "Is that why you ran? Because you thought I didn't mean it?"

You swallowed hard, trying to ignore how your skin prickled where he'd touched you. "Satoru..."

"You know what I think?" His voice dropped even lower, barely a whisper in the quiet kitchen. "I think you're scared. Not of me, but of the fact that you wanted to stay too."

"That's not—" But the words died in your throat as his thumb traced your jawline.

"Then why are you down here?" He was close enough now that you could feel the heat of his body against yours. "If it was just one night, just something casual, why did you follow me down here in the middle of the night?"

The counter pressed against your back—when had you started backing up?—and Satoru's arms came to rest on either side of you, caging you in. Position achingly familiar, reminding you of how this all started six months ago.

"I was thirsty," you said. You did not even believe yourself as you said it.

His laugh was barely a breath against your skin. "Liar."

And then his mouth was on yours, and god, you'd forgotten how good he was at this. His lips were soft but demanding, one hand sliding into your hair while the other gripped your hip, forcing you close against him. You gasped into the kiss, and he took the opportunity to deepen it, his tongue against yours in a way that made you forget your own name.

It was different from that first night—less urgent, but somehow more intense. He kissed you like he was trying to prove a point, like he was laying claim to every moment you'd denied him these past six months. His teeth caught your lower lip, and you had to bite back a whimper, too aware of the sleeping house above.

"Still want to pretend this is nothing?" he whispered against your mouth, and you could feel his smile when your only response was to pull him back down for another kiss.

His hands slid down to grip your thighs, lifting you onto the counter. You wrapped your legs around his waist, drawing him closer as his mouth moved to your neck, kissing your throat just the way you like it, just the way he somehow remembered.

"Someone could come down," you breathed, even as your fingers tangled in his hair.

"Then I guess you'll have to be quiet." His teeth grazed your skin, making you shiver. "Think you can manage that? Because I distinctly remember you being quite vocal last time."

You tightened your grip on his hair in return, but that just made him groan softly against your throat. "You're stupid."

"Mm, that's not what you said in Tokyo." His hands slid higher under your shirt, thumbs brushing the underside of your breasts. "In fact, I remember you saying some very different things—"

You cut him off with another kiss, partly to shut him up and partly because you needed his mouth on yours like you needed air. His fingers teased along your ribs, your back, your thighs, touching you everywhere except where you desperately wanted him to.

But then his fingers found the edge of your underwear, and you had to bite his shoulder to keep from moaning as he slid his fingers inside you, making you cum all over his fingers in seconds—just like that night in Tokyo.

You were done, dizzy, breathless, clinging to him as he stripped your shorts and underwear down your legs. He pushed one leg up your chest as he lowered you back down onto the marble kitchen counter, your other leg still wrapped around his waist. His forehead pressed against yours as he thrust inside, hard, slow, perfect angle—just like that night in Tokyo.

He tossed you around, manhandled you, fucked you against the fridge, threw you onto the couch and fucked you there too. He whispered your name, his voice husky against your ear, every letter a caress, even as he picked up pace, even as his hand closed around your throat, even as you bit into the pillow below to muffle your screams as he made you cum again. Multiple times. In various positions. Using his own cum as a lube for the next round—just like that night in Tokyo.

Afterwards you laid outside on the veranda in a big chair you both shared, gazing up at the stars scattered across the deep velvet sky, countless and impossibly bright. A second later his lips found yours and another second later you were on top of him, underwear pushed to the side and your head thrown back as he watched you chase your release on his dick—just like that night in Tokyo.

And his hand found yours, intertwining your fingers as he ate you out on the stairs just before you wanted to go back to bed, but he wouldn't let you, making you cum again before he carried you off to the laundry room to fuck you one last time for sure good mesure—just like that night in Tokyo.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟  

Morning came way too early, sunlight streaming through windows you'd forgotten to close. Every muscle in your body ached in the most pleasant way, reminding you of exactly how many surfaces you and Satoru had christened last night. 

Yeah. You were definitely going to be feeling this for days. You winced slightly as you sat up — apparently kitchen counters weren't the most ergonomic choice for certain activities, or the stairs, or the laundry room, or... Okay, we get it.

When you finally made it downstairs, moving perhaps a bit more strangely than usual, Satoru was already at the breakfast table. Because of course he was, looking absolutely perfect and fullyfull rested in a fresh shirt, casually sipping his coffee like he hadn't spent half the night making you bite down on your fist to keep quiet.

"Well, someone looks rough," Nobara commented as you lowered yourself carefully into a chair. "Too much wine last night?"

You caught Satoru hiding a smirk behind his coffee cup. The bastard didn't even have the decency to look tired.

"Something like that," you muttered, reaching for the coffee pot and trying not to wince at the stretch. Your thighs burned in protest of the movement, and you could swear you saw Satoru's smile widening at your slight grimace.

"Must have been some wine," Nobara said, eyeing you suspiciously. "I don't remember you drinking that much during the game."

"Are you sure you're okay?" Yuji asked, looking concerned. "You're walking kind of funny."

"I'm fine, really," you managed. "Too much wine, that’s all."

Maki, who sat next to you, leaned in closer. "Your 'too much wine' is showing," she whispered, pointing to your collarbone. Your hand flew to your neck, suddenly remembering all the attention Satoru had paid to that area—especially that moment on the stairs when you'd begged him to finish what he'd started before anyone heard them, while he sucked a very dark bruise right above your collarbone.

You quickly buttoned up your cotton shirt higher, but from Nobara's growing grin, it was too late. But thankfully, no one commented on it.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟  

The rest of Sunday passed in a lazy haze, with everyone moving a bit slower thanks to varying degrees of wine headaches. Most of the day was spent sprawled out on beach chairs, hiding behind sunglasses and drinking coconut water that Yuta swore would help with hangovers (but, in fact, did not).

You dozed on and off under an umbrella, trying not to think about how your body still ached in several places from the night before, and enjoyed your last day in Okinawa before you'd return to work on Monday.

When evening rolled around and it was time to pack up, the house became a chaos of suitcases and forgotten phone chargers once more. You were struggling with your bag next to your car, trying to figure out the best angle to lift it into the trunk without stressing your still sore muscles, when Satoru suddenly appeared and took it from your hands without a word.

"I can manage," you protested, but he was already lifting it into your trunk with an effortless ease that really shouldn't be as attractive as it was.

"I'm sure you can," he said, closing your trunk with a soft thud. "But maybe I just want an excuse to do this." 

Before you could ask what 'this' was, he pressed a small folded piece of paper into your palm. You opened it to find a phone number written in his surprisingly neat handwriting.

"Since you didn't stay for it last time," he said softly.

"What makes you think I'll use it?"

"Because this time, you want to stay just as much as I want you to." He leaned closer, his voice dropping so only you could hear. "Besides, I believe we still have a few surfaces in my apartment left to explore."

You shoved his shoulder. "Stop." 

He caught your hand before you could push him again. "Use it. Please?" His voice held a note of softness, an unexpected tenderness that made your heart ache with a strange longing. You nodded, tucking the paper safely into your back pocket.

"Still not announcing anything to everyone tho," you warned as Maki called out that they were ready to leave.

"Yet," he said with an eye roll. Then, before you could react, he pulled you in for one last kiss. It was slower, deeper this time, his hands cupping your face as he kissed you, as if he was afraid he might forget the feel of your lips.

"Someone could see us," you whispered against his lips, even as your fingers curled into his shirt.

"I don't care," he murmured, one hand sliding down to your waist to draw you closer. "Let them see." He kissed you again, shorter this time but no less intense. "Besides, they'll find out soon enough when I take you to this little ramen place in Shibuya I've been wanting to show you."

You pulled back slightly. "Oh? Someone's confident about getting a second date."

"Third, technically," he said. "If we're counting Tokyo. And that thing against the washing machine last night."

"Those don't count.”

"Then I guess I'll have to make the next one special. Maybe dinner first. Then I can show you my apartment. Properly this time, not just the entrance hall and kitchen counter."

"Is that your way of asking me out?"

"That's my way of saying I'm not letting you disappear for six months again." He pressed a quick kiss to the corner of your mouth. "Use my number this time, yeah?"

"Satoru!" Yuji's voice carried across the driveway. "Stop making out and help me with these bags!"

Satoru laughed against your lips, stealing one more kiss before reluctantly pulling away. "Think about it. The ramen place. My apartment. All the surfaces we haven't used yet."

"Go help Yuji," you said, pushing him away even as you smiled. "Before he comes over here."

"Call me," he said, walking backwards with that stupidly handsome smile. "Or I'll just have to show up at your office. Make a big scene. Maybe bring flowers. Really embarrass you in front of all your coworkers."

"You wouldn't dare."

"Try me!" He finally turned then to help with the bags, leaving you to shake your head, your lips still tingling from his kisses.

The drive home felt different somehow. Every now and then, your hand would drift to your pocket, fingers brushing over the folded paper with his number, making sure it was still there as the familiar roads back to Tokyo stretched ahead.

The beach house grew smaller in your rearview mirror until it disappeared completely, taking with it the memories of lazy afternoons under the summer sun and heated nights. But other things lingered—the ghost of his lips against yours, the warmth of his hands, the way he'd looked at you like you were something worth waiting for.

Maybe you'd call him tomorrow. Or maybe you'd wait a day or two, just to prove you could. But knowing you, you'd likely message him the moment you set foot in your apartment.

A smile tugged at your lips as you pulled onto the highway, the setting sun painting the sky in strokes of rose and  lavender. Whatever happened next, one thing was for sure — this weekend had changed everything.

And maybe, just maybe, that wasn't such a bad thing.

masterlist + support my writing

author's note — and that's a wrap on our beach house summer story ! thank you so much for reading :)) & thank you again to @/nanamis-baker for beta reading !!

for anyone wondering, yes, she kept the shirt. and yes, he definitely noticed when she wore it to their first proper date to that ramen spot in shibuya.

if you enjoyed this fic, please feel free to leave a comment or reblog. it means so much !! until next time. stay thirsty hydrated, my friends <3

ps: if you want to get notifications for future updates, you can join my taglist here.

tags — @fayuki @starmapz @starlightanyaaa @sxnkuna @cocomanga

@nanamis-baker @rosso-seta @sugurbo @chiyokoemilia @janbannan

@bloopsstuff @snowsilver2000 @ihearttoru @momoewn @yokosandesu

@90s-belladonna @fairygardenprincesss

© lostfracturess. do not repost, translate, or copy my work.

[crookedteethed]

ᡣ𐭩 who do you love? . • ° 　 .　 *　: r. cameron

synopsis -- mistress! reader goes bonkers and films a surprise video for Rafe and his wife's anniversary. ۶ৎ

warnings -- 18+-mdni, smut (unprotected p i v), breeding kink, video voyeurism, infidelity, mention of alcohol usage, age gap, cursing, pussy whipped! rafe, homegirl is... yeah

other woman masterlist |taglist | based on this ask | wc: 1.7k

You knew exactly what you were doing when you typed her name into Facebook's search bar. Your fingers moved with purpose, guided by an obsession you couldn't shake.

There it was - Rafe's wife's profile, and right at the top, exactly what you'd been hunting for: a fresh post celebrating their decade of marriage, complete with a photo from their younger days when their love still seemed pure and untainted. You stared at their beaming faces, letting the bitterness wash over you.

Each scroll feels like turning a knife in your own heart, but you can't stop.

Their life unfolds before you like some twisted fairy tale: Rafe teaching their daughter to ride a bike, their annual trips to the Maldives, their matching Christmas sweaters with those damn Dobermans.

And her—always her—wearing that diamond tennis bracelet you once saw in his browser history, claiming the life that should have been yours.

This should be me, the thought burns like acid.

Your fingers hover over a photo of their Mediterranean cruise, her perfectly manicured hand resting on his chest, that massive engagement ring catching the sunset.

She has everything: the weekend brunches at that fancy place downtown, the Range Rover you've seen in their driveway, the three beautiful children with his eyes, the garden parties you watch from afar, and him—God, especially him.

The life that slipped through your fingers because of timing and trust funds. She had everything you didn't: old money, country club connections, and most crucially—age.

While you were still learning to drive, she was already the perfect socialite, the appropriate choice for a man of Rafe's standing. The Seventeen-year age gap between you and Rafe might as well have been an ocean—one that she had already crossed long before you even learned to swim.

Sometimes you wonder if that's what drew him to you in the first place: your youth, your naivety, everything that made you so different from her. Everything that ultimately made you impossible.

Your wine glass is empty again. When did that happen?

A tear escaped your eye as jealousy carved deeper into your chest, the pain spreading until you could barely breathe. Your trembling fingers found your phone, muscle memory still remembering his number after all these years. You knew it was wrong—God, you knew—but you pressed call anyway.

One ring. Two rings. Your heart threatened to burst.

"Hello?" His voice, still so familiar, sent electricity through your body.

"I—" your voice cracked, "I need to see you, Rafe. Please. I can't… I can't stop thinking about you, and I'm so alone tonight. Please come over, I need you."

The silence that followed felt eternal—like light years away, stretching between your world and his, filled with everything unsaid.

You could picture him there, standing in his perfect house with his perfect family just rooms away, probably running his fingers through his hair the way he always did when he was conflicted.

Your heart hammered against your ribs as you heard him move, presumably stepping outside or into his study. Then came that familiar sound—the slow exhale through his nose that you remembered from countless late nights together, when difficult decisions hung in the air between you.

When he finally spoke, his voice was low, rough with something that might have been regret or desire or both: "I'm on my way."

Three simple words that shattered whatever remained of your resolve. You ended the call before he could change his mind, before reality could catch up to either of you, before guilt could claw its way back in.

Your hands shook as you set the phone down, knowing that in fifteen minutes—twenty at most—you'd hear his car in your driveway, and everything would change again.

When he steps through your door, the world narrows to just this: his loosened tie, your trembling hands, the soft thud as his back hits the wall. "We shouldn't," he whispers, even as his fingers dig into your hips, even as he pulls you closer.

You silence his protest with a kiss that tastes like regret and wanting, knowing tomorrow will bring guilt but tonight—tonight belongs to muscle memory and bad decisions.

Your hands roam greedily over each other, ripping clothes away with primal urgency. Your mouths hungrily devour one another, teeth nipping at lips as you guide him to the bedroom. Your heart races with desire and anticipation, knowing what awaits in the heat of passion.

The phone you carefully propped against the lamp earlier blinks silently in the darkness, its camera catching everything. You position him perfectly in its view, letting him think it's just desire guiding your movements.

"God, I've missed you," he breathes against your collar bone, completely unaware that every word, every moan, every mistake is being captured. You almost feel guilty—almost.

Then you think of her Facebook shrine to their perfect marriage, and something shifts inside you—guilt crystallizing into purpose.

Your phone keeps recording in the darkness, anticipating to capture every betrayal, every whispered confession.

Soon, her perfectly filtered life won't matter anymore. Soon, you'll have something far more precious than any photograph: Rafe—cornered, desperate, and finally yours.

Without hesitation, you shoved Rafe onto your queen size bed. Straddling his naked body, you disregarded any notion of foreplay.

As much as you craved the feeling of his tongue on your clit or his thick fingers probing you, all that mattered was having Rafe's cock buried in your cunt.

"Damn, you weren't kidding. You really do need me," Rafe smirked as his palm immediately found its way to your dripping core, but to your dismay was swatted away.

With a seductive grin, cooed in your sweet, high-pitched voice that made Rafe's brain mush. "Un huh, now be a good boy and let me take care of myself," you purred, guiding his rock-hard cock to the entrance of your wetness.

"Are you going to let me do that?" Your tone was condescending, but it only fueled the intense desire between you both, and because Rafe's mind turned to mush the moment you said you needed him, he nodded, totally pussy whipped and enamored by you.

The sharp gasp that escaped both of your lips was matched only by the intensity of your desire.

Slowly, you sank down onto Rafe's throbbing cock, savoring the feeling of him stretching you just as he always did.

"You're so tight, baby," he groaned out, his voice dripping with lust.

As you remembered the phone set up hidden by your side table lamp, a mischievous thought crossed your mind:

"Am I tighter than your wife?" you asked, already beginning to rock your hips on his length. Naturally, Rafe's hands found their way to your waist, not to guide you but to bring you closer to his lips.

"So much tighter, shit," he breathed out between hot kisses, with each agonizing slow rock.

"You're gonna leave her for me, huh?" you asked, face to face with Rafe, cradling his jaw to peck his lips. Slowly, you began to pick up the pace. 

Your rhythmic movements escalate into frenzied bouncing, his hard length molding perfectly to your slick walls, stretching you to the limit. You lift yourself up and press down on Rafe's chest for leverage, driving him deeper and harder into you

Rafe's eyes rolled back as you bounced harder, your pussy gripping him like a vice. "Fuck, I… I don't know," he groaned, his hips bucking up to meet your thrusts.

You leaned down, your breasts brushing against his chest as you whispered in his ear, "Come on, baby. Tell me you'll leave her. Tell me I'm the only one you want." Your walls clenched around him for emphasis, drawing a strangled moan from his lips.

"God, yes," Rafe panted, completely lost in the sensation of your tight heat enveloping him. "I'll leave her. You're all I want, fuck!"

Hearing those words sent a thrill through you. You began to bounce faster, slamming yourself down onto his thick cock with abandon. Your breasts bounced enticingly and Rafe reached up to cup them, pinching your nipples between his fingers.

"Say it again," you demanded breathlessly, grinding your hips in circles. "Tell me you're mine."

"I'm yours, baby," Rafe panted, thrusting up to meet your movements. "All fucking yours."

You leaned down to capture his lips in a searing kiss, your tongue tangling with his as you continued to ride him relentlessly. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, along with your shared moans of pleasure.

"Gonna cum for me?" you asked, clenching your walls around him. "Gonna fill me up? Gonna give me one of your babies?"

"Yeah, gonna stuff your sweet pussy with my hot load, fuck, I'm about to explode," Rafe moaned, his nails digging into your flesh, leaving red marks on your hips.

You reached down to rub tight circles on your clit, chasing your own release. "Me too, don't stop," you gasped.

With a few more forceful thrusts, you both toppled over the brink together, moaning in bliss as powerful waves of pleasure engulfed you. Rafe followed suit, releasing his hot and sticky load inside you, filling you up completely.

The afterglow lasts exactly thirty seconds before Rafe is already reaching for his clothes, his movements quick and efficient like this is just another business meeting wrapping up, breathing hasn't even steadied.

"I need to get back," he says, checking his watch. "We have dinner reservations at La Maison."

"Of course. The anniversary dinner." Your voice sounds hollow even to your own ears. "Rafe?" He pauses, shirt half-buttoned. "Did you mean any of it? What you said while we were…?"

He crosses the room, cups your face, and plants a soft kiss on your lips—the kind that feels like goodbye. Then he's gone, the front door clicking shut behind him.

You sit in the twisted sheets, his warmth already fading, listening to his car fade into the distance. Your hands shake as you reach for your phone and stop the recording. The email address you've had memorized for months appears in the recipient field without hesitation. You attach the video—forty-three minutes of undeniable truth—and watch the upload bar creep forward. In the subject line, you type five words that will demolish their perfect life: "Happy Anniversary, From Us Both."

Your finger hovers over 'send' for just a heartbeat before pressing down. Let her enjoy those reservation plans now.

Now he'll have to choose, you think, watching the loading bar reach 100%. And this time, he'll choose me.

a/n -- thanks for making it to the end, as always all likes comments, and reblogs keeps me motivated! 💕🫶🏾

taglist --

@rafestoothbrush @alexxavicry @trapistani @Hejsj @neslayuh @hotvampdragon @alyisdead @jelybely @elmolovesw33d @littlelamy @futuremrscameron @percysley @rrafeswhore

[rottenfyre]

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ 𓇼 ࣪ MY CRAZY BOYFRIEND 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ⭒⠀

☆⁠ 𝘗𝘈𝘐𝘙𝘐𝘕𝘎 : Robins x Fem Reader

☆⁠ SYNOPSIS : 𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘢𝘤𝘵 𝘤𝘳𝘢𝘻𝘺 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘳𝘮𝘢𝘭.

☆⁠ CHARACTERS : 𝘋𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘎𝘳𝘢𝘺𝘴𝘰𝘯, 𝘑𝘢𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘛𝘰𝘥𝘥, 90𝘴 𝘛𝘪𝘮 𝘋𝘳𝘢𝘬𝘦, 𝘋𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘢𝘯 𝘞𝘢𝘺𝘯𝘦.

☆⁠ NOTES : 𝘛𝘦𝘦𝘯𝘢𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦. 𝘌𝘯𝘨𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘩 𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘮𝘺 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘶𝘢𝘨𝘦. 𝘏𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘦𝘯𝘫𝘰𝘺!

⎯ DICK GRAYSON

You walked into your room, ready to flop on your bed after a long day, only to scream when you saw Dick fucking Grayson himself sitting cross-legged on your floor, holding one of your shirts. “What the hell, Dick?!” you yelled, clutching your chest. “What are you doing in my room?” He looked up, completely unfazed, flashing his signature charming grin. “Hey, babe. I missed you.” You pointed at the shirt in his hands. “Why do you have my shirt?” Dick stood up, holding it close to his chest like a lifeline. “It smells like you, and I needed it to get through patrol last night. Do you know how hard it is to fight crime without the love of your life’s essence keeping you grounded?” “Dick, that’s so creepy!” you exclaimed, though you were trying not to laugh. “But I love you,” he said with those puppy-dog eyes, leaning closer. “And I thought about you the whole time. Did you think about me too?” “Not like this!”

⎯ JASON TODD

You were out with Jason at a local diner, enjoying some milkshakes when you noticed he kept glancing at you while trying (and failing) to be subtle about it. “Okay, what’s up?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. Jason grinned, leaning forward with his chin on his hand. “Nothing, just thinking about how cute you look when you drink your milkshake.” “...Thanks?” you said, feeling your face heat up. Then, out of nowhere, Jason pulled a tiny notepad out of his pocket and started furiously writing. “What are you doing?” you asked, bewildered. “I’m cataloging everything you do that makes my heart race,” he said matter-of-factly. “Like, right now—number 438: The way you scrunch your nose when you’re confused.” Your jaw dropped. “You have a list?” “Of course I do,” he said, like it was the most normal thing in the world. “How else am I supposed to remember every little thing I love about you?” You buried your face in your hands, torn between laughing and dying of embarrassment. “Jason, people can hear you!” “Good,” he said, smirking. “Let the world know how much I love you.”

⎯ 90s TIM DRAKE

You were sitting on your couch when Tim burst through your front door, looking frantic. “Tim?! What are you doing?!” you shouted, startled. “I need to check your internet history,” he said, completely serious. “What?” you gawked, standing up. Tim held up his laptop like it was a sacred relic. “I hacked into your Wi-Fi and noticed some…suspicious searches.” “You WHAT?!” “Why were you looking up ‘how to tell if your boyfriend is crazy’ at 3 a.m.?” he demanded, his face a mix of hurt and desperation. You stared at him, your mouth open in shock. “Tim, what the hell! That was a meme! I wasn’t being serious!” “Oh.” He blinked, looking sheepish for about two seconds before he perked up. “Well, now you don’t have to wonder. I am crazy—for you.” “Get out of my house!”

⎯ DAMIAN WAYNE

You were in your backyard when you heard a rustling noise coming from the bushes. Frowning, you approached cautiously, only to jump back when Damian crawled out on all fours like a feral cat. “Damian?! What are you doing in my bushes?!” He stood up, brushing off his uniform like this was a perfectly normal situation. “I was ensuring your safety.” “By hiding in my bushes?” you asked, flabbergasted. “I must remain vigilant,” he said, crossing his arms. “You are surrounded by incompetent fools who cannot be trusted with your protection.” “Damian, my dad is literally inside the house.” “He doesn’t have the necessary training to spot an assassin from 300 yards away,” Damian scoffed. “But do not fear—I am here.” You groaned, pinching the bridge of your nose. “This is so creepy. Do you even hear yourself?” “Creepy? No. Devoted? Absolutely.”

ʀᴏᴛᴛᴇɴꜰʏʀᴇ: ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ��ʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ ᴏʀ ᴜꜱᴇ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ ʜᴇʀᴇ ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴡᴇʙꜱɪᴛᴇꜱ.

[jinhyun]

—lost in translation.

pairing: hwang hyunjin x reader

genre: a little angst, fluff, best friend’s little brother au, friends to lovers, pininggggg, miscommunication (gone right?)

word count: 5.2k

summary: hyunjin needed answers and he needed them now. even if it meant showing up at your place late at night with a few drinks in his system, ready for things to go either terribly wrong or incredibly right.

warnings: miscommunication, mentions of alcohol and drinking

author’s note: hellooo, and thank you so much for being so patient<3 this is part 23 of my social media au “heart out”. part 24 will be written as well, so don’t worry if there were a few things left unsaid in this one lol. as always, i hope you guys enjoy! if you do, please don’t forget to leave an ask or a comment telling me your thoughts on it<3

Hyunjin was usually a very chill and spontaneous person. He did things when he felt like it, without really giving it much thought. If he wanted to do something and it felt right, then why would he hold back? He could always deal with the consequences of his own actions later.

When it came to you, however, he was the complete opposite.

Ever since he met you, he had been tiptoeing his way around your heart.

He wanted to do things right when it came to you, and, as a result, his interactions with you throughout the years tended to end up with him overthinking instead of doing.

Starting with him hiding his feelings and keeping his interactions with you to the minimum when he was still a high schooler, to him still hiding his feelings while trying to get closer to you when he entered university, to then still say nothing about them when you started dating Mingyu, up until now, that he finally got another shot at getting close to you, yet he still refused to confess his feelings until you were ready to hear it.

And that was the thing, if it were up to him and acting accordingly to how he felt in the moment, he would’ve confessed a long time ago — probably back in his first year of university, particularly when he found out you and Mingyu were dating and he felt like calling you up and letting it all out. But he wouldn’t, because although it would be a huge weight to get off his shoulders, he wouldn’t want you to deal with the burden of knowing he loved you when you didn’t love him back; not like that, at least.

He wouldn’t confess, because he didn’t want you to feel bad for not being there just yet, if ever.

He didn’t want to ruin what the two of you had because of a whim, and so he decided to deal with his feelings on his own. Until he knew for sure that you were ready to hear a confession from him, he wouldn’t say the words out loud to you.

Of course, that was up until this evening.

After coming to the conclusion that Dahye had followed her word and told you about his feelings for you, and having you distance yourself from him ever since, which could only mean you didn’t feel the same and were preparing to turn him down; and, furthermore, after hearing from Yeji that you wouldn’t mind going out with her twenty three year old coworker once you were ready to date again, there was no room in his head for him to think of the consequences of confessing to you anymore.

If you were turning him down anyway, if you were going out with someone else anyway… if he was losing you anyway, then what did he have to lose by finally letting you know how deeply he felt for you?

Maybe it was the alcohol he’d been consuming with his friends that night, or maybe it was just him simply not giving a fuck anymore — maybe both.

Whatever it was, it was giving him the final push he needed, for he was now standing outside your building, ignoring the freezing breeze of the night —as the black cotton sportswear he was wearing did little to nothing to keep him warm—, while he desperately texted you in hopes of you being awake and letting him come up, so you would finally get to talk and turn him down if that’s what you wanted to do in the end.

If you were turning him down at one point in the next two days, he would rather have you do it now.

He felt like he was going insane; like no matter what the outcome was, whether you turned him down or not, he would collapse if he didn’t get an answer within the next few minutes.

When you wouldn’t answer his texts and there were no signs of you being online, he decided to call you instead. He wasn’t giving up that easily that night, if at all.

It only took one missed call and ten more seconds waiting on the line for you to pick up.

“Hyunie?” Your sleepy yet worried voice was enough to quiet his running thoughts down. “Something happened? Are you alright?”

He stayed silent for a moment, staring up at your window.

“Hyunie?” You repeated. He heard you shift in your bed, and then he saw the light in your room turn on. “Are you there?”

“Can I come up?” He asked quietly.

Silence filled the line for a moment. “What?”

“I texted you… I think you didn’t see it” he explained. “I’m outside your building. Can I please come up? I know it’s late, but I need to talk to you now”.

“Y-Yeah… of course” you failed to hide how taken aback you were. “Help yourself in”.

“Okay…”

Hanging up, his eyes went to the front door to your building, and he suddenly felt the weight of what was about to come on his shoulders. But he was already here, and even if he turned around and went home instead, he knew he would not be able to sleep for the second night in a row as long as he didn’t clear things up with you.

He was already here and you were waiting for him upstairs, so he might as well rushed up to you.

-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-♡

Entering the passcode he knew by heart, he made his way into your place; taking off his shoes and putting on the slippers you kept by the door for your guests, which he knew were pretty much his by now.

As expected, all the lights were out except from the one in your bedroom, where he caught you coming out from.

He would never get tired of seeing you barefaced; and the slightly messy hair you were running your fingers through in a quick attempt to fix, along with the pastel pink silk pyjamas you were wearing, could only make him adore you even more. However, you looked tired, and he couldn’t help but feel bad for waking you up.

“Hey” he mumbled, suddenly feeling the madness inside his head calm down at the mere sight of you.

“Hey…” you softly greeted him back, leaning against your doorframe and resting your head on it. “Did something happen?”

He denied with his head, coming closer to you. “Just couldn’t wait anymore to talk to you, I’m sorry”.

“It’s okay,” you reassured him, slightly frowning when you got a closer look at him. “Have you been drinking?”

A small, surprised pout formed on his lips. What gave it away? His eyes? Was he reeking of alcohol? Or did you know him so well that a simple look at him was enough for you to tell when something was off?

“Just had a few drinks with the boys, it’s nothing” he brushed it off.

“You didn’t drive here, did you?”

“No, of course not” he was the one to frown this time. “I’m fine, though”.

You said nothing, but he caught the hesitation in your eyes.

“I’m fine, Y/N” he reassured you one last time. “I didn’t drink that much anyway”.

Just enough for his inhibitions to shut down; not enough not to realise what he was doing.

“Okay…” you decided to believe him.

With a light tilt of your head, you invited him into your room, where the lightning was better — although the dim light coming from the white lamp on your nightstand could only make him feel sleepier.

You sat down on the edge of your unmade bed, as you’d been sleeping up until he called you, and motioned for him to do the same. Once he did, silence was fast to take over.

“Um… I’m not—I wasn’t really prepared to talk about this now,” you messily tried to come up with the right way to approach the issue. “So I don’t know where to begin, if I’m honest…”

He understood what you were feeling perfectly. In all honesty, although he had come all the way over here to get the answer he so badly needed, he, too, didn’t know where to begin.

There was so much to say, so much to ask, so many ways to word his questions, that his mind went blank.

So, he said the first thing he could think of right then.

“Dahye told you, didn’t she?”

You looked distressed at the mention of her, and that was enough for him to get the answer he was dreading. “Sorry?”

“She talked to you?” He rephrased it.

“Mhm…” you nodded, looking down to your lap. “She did”.

“And is that why you’ve been so distant?” Hyunjin asked carefully.

You nodded again, silently. “I’m sorry, I just needed some time to think” your eyes went back up to lock with his. “How’d you know she talked to me?”

“She kinda threatened me with telling you, so…” he rolled his eyes.

“Oh… that’s…”

Crazy. She was crazy.

Hyunjin nodded, not needing to hear any words coming out of your mouth to understand what you wanted to say. “I know. I should learn not to underestimate her”.

“Yeah, I probably should, too…” you smiled weakly. “Good thing I realised something was off and didn’t believe her in the end”.

“Wait, what?” His eyebrows furrowed.

Something was off? You didn’t believe her?

“I didn’t believe her,” you repeated. “I was a bit shaken up at first, and that’s why I took some distance from you. I just needed to think about it with a cold head, but all along I didn’t want to believe it was true, so ultimately I didn’t. It didn’t sound like you at all”.

Was he tripping? Was he really way more drunk than he thought for your words to make no sense to him?

“You didn’t… want to?” Hyunjin’s heart ached, mostly hung up on those words of yours. “Would it be that bad if it was true?”

“Yes,” you replied in a heartbeat. “I’m sorry, but I wouldn’t be able to let myself fall for you if that was the case, Hyunjin”.

I wouldn’t be able to let myself fall for you if Dahye will always be there and I knew you’d go back to her whenever you get tired of me; is what you meant.

It would be bad if it was true that you’re in love with me, because I wouldn’t be able to let myself fall for you and ever love you back; is what he heard.

Just like that, for the fourth time in his life, once again because of you, his heart broke.

Although he’d come here knowing well enough that getting turned down by you was a very high possibility, actually hearing you so tactlessly say those words to him right then, and getting every chance of ever being with you crushed into pieces just like that, had his heart hurting in a way it had never before.

Feeling physically ill and finding it hard to breathe, he stood up, pacing around your room for a few seconds before he looked for support on the wall by leaning his back on it.

This might’ve been his worst heartbreak yet, for unlike the previous times, he’d let himself be led on. This time, he really thought that there was something going on between the two of you. All the reciprocated flirting and touches… had it all been him? Did you really not realise what you’d been doing to him all along?

“Hyunie…” you whispered, feeling your own heart break at the sight of him and going up to him, unable to give into your own sorrow as he seemed to have just confirmed that what Dahye told you was indeed true.

He closed his eyes as he tilted his head up to keep the tears from coming out of them.

Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry.

He defeatedly shook his head when you placed your hand on his shoulder, rubbing his hands on his eyes to wipe the oncoming tears before he tried to walk away. “I’m sorry, this wasn’t a good—I can’t, I should leave” he apologised.

“So it’s true then?” You asked, grabbing his wrist for him to stay.

He shook his head no, and for just a moment there you felt relief, before he finally turned around and looked at you with reddened eyes. “Of course it’s true” his bottom lip trembled. “Why wouldn’t it be? Did I really get it all wrong?”

Your eyebrows knitted together, understanding this entire situation less and less by the second. “Get what wrong?”

“This,” he repeatedly pointed his finger from you to him. “Us. Whatever it is that I thought was going on between us”.

“Hyunjin…”

“I knew I was getting my hopes up too fast, but I thought,” he paused for a moment, shaking his head in disbelief over his own delusions. “All this time I thought what kept holding you back was our age gap, but turns out the problem was never my age, but me”.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean you’d be willing to go out with that one other guy who’s also my age, so it was clearly never the problem”.

“What guy?”

“You know what guy”.

“Felix?” You pinpointed, not really knowing any other guys his age. Not like you particularly knew Felix either anyway. “I’m not going out with him”.

“You said you wouldn’t mind him being twenty three, though”.

“Because I don’t care about age, not because I want to date him” you tried to defend yourself. “Weren’t you the one who told me to consider dating younger guys?”

“Exactly, I told you that. Me. I said it so you would at some point consider me, not so you would start looking at other guys my age” he clarified.

“Hyunjin, I’m not—Why does age suddenly matter so much to you?”

“Because if you’re willing to date a guy who’s three years younger than you, then why can’t it be me?!”

You froze.

During all the years you had known him, you had never seen him lose his temper. He was always calm, rational. Had he ever even raised his voice in your presence other than when he got excited about something?

This was a side of him you’d never seen before, and it broke you.

Seeing him look so hopeless and sound so defeated right then, made you feel like holding him and never let go of him.

Things were moving too fast, though, and when you wanted to reach for his face and wipe the tear that had just rolled down one of his cheeks, he beat you to it; harshly wiping his face with his hands, as he refused to look away from you.

“All this time I’ve done nothing but pour my heart out to you. I’m so… so fucking in love with you it hurts me, Y/N. There are times when it physically pains me to love you this much,” he confessed.

Right now, it was one of those times.

“I’ve done everything in my hands for you to stop seeing me like the teenage boy you met back then, for you to stop seeing me just like Yeji’s little brother, and I know you’re not ready for a relationship yet, but I was willing to wait for as long as you needed me to until you were, because I was delusional enough to believe that I could actually make you fall for me” a breathless, humorless laugh abandoned his lips. “And now it turns out you just won’t ever feel the way I feel for you, and this guy shows up out of nowhere and gets everything I’ve tried to get from you right away without even moving a finger, and I just… I don’t know where to go from here”.

Your heart squeezed inside your chest.

Of all the things you were expecting as the outcome of your talk, a confession wasn’t one of them. Not this kind of confession, at least.

You were speechless. Not only did you not know what to say, but even if you did, you were sure your voice would betray you by not coming out when you opened your mouth.

Hyunjin loved you.

It wasn’t just a crush like you thought. It wasn’t him looking for something casual like you feared. No, he loved you. He was serious about you.

Why did you feel so happy yet so afraid about his feelings for you being so strong?

He took a step towards you, and you felt your heartbeat raise when his face was only a couple of inches away from yours and his breathing began to mix with yours.

“I don’t wanna give up on you, Y/N, I don’t. But I just don’t kn—What do I have to do for you to consider me?” He asked, pulling you closer by your waist. “What does he have that I don’t?”

“I’m not going out with him, Hyunjin” you repeated in a whisper, hoping this time he would believe you.

Whether he believed you or not, he leaned in closer, faintly brushing his nose with yours. “What do I have to do for you to give me a chance then?”

“Hyun…”

“I’ll do anything,” he said, cupping your face and making you lock eyes with him. “Just tell me what and I’ll do it”.

You slowly shook your head no, unable to get any kind of word out of your mouth. Was it not obvious enough already that you did feel something for him? Had the way you talked to him and how you acted around him not been enough for him to get that you liked him as something more than just a friend? As way more than just your best friend’s brother?

You couldn’t find the right words to tell him that. The only thing you could do was to stare into his eyes, and then down into his lips, feeling the tension between the two of you grow by the second.

Hyunjin caught up on that immediately, leaning closer, so he could brush his mouth on yours for a second, before he closed the gap that kept them from touching.

Only you beat him to it.

Had you waited one more second, he would’ve been the one to press his lips on yours.

But you did not.

Instead, you were the one to press your mouth on his.

You were the one to kiss him first.

You were kissing him.

And he froze.

His right hand was still cupping your face, his left one remained on your waist, and his eyes had naturally closed the moment he felt the heavenly pressure of your lips on his. But he froze nevertheless.

For the first few seconds, he was too stunned, too overwhelmed —in the best way possible— to even react. And, unfortunately, a few seconds was all the kiss lasted; for he missed your touch right when he was about to kiss you back.

“I’m sorry” you apologised right as you pulled away and covered your mouth with your hands, as if only then coming to your senses. “Hyunie, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t—”

That was as much as you got to say, for in a second he had already removed your hands from your mouth and replaced them with his lips.

You’d be damned if you thought you could get away with letting him get a taste of your lips only to deprive him of you all over again.

You kissed him back right away, going against your poorly attempted apology, and driving him crazy when you wrapped your arms over his shoulders. His hands that had been previously cupping your face were now on your waist, pulling you closer to his body as he tried to feel you as close to him as he could.

He kissed you like he needed you, like he’d been deprived of you for decades and was only now allowed to get a taste of you; and yet, he managed to be so gentle that you were left craving more by the second, whilst wanting him to kiss you just like that for a little longer.

After all, you didn’t know he had been dreaming of this moment for nearly seven years now.

Just like you, he, too, started wanting more. Pulling your hips harder against his and getting a small gasp of yours to part your lips, he took the chance to delve his tongue in your mouth — unable to keep the corners of his lips from curving slightly up when he felt your tongue massage his right back.

With your breathings becoming heavier, and without even dreaming of letting go of your lips just yet, Hyunjin made you take a couple of steps back, until your legs reached your bed and you instinctively sat down on it, allowing him to lean over you as he followed your mouth.

“You’re drunk…” you managed to whisper, right after you laid back on the mattress and his mouth sucked on your bottom lip once more.

“I’m fine, I’m fin—I’m perfect” he whispered in between kisses.

He was perfect. Being with you like this, with him hovering over you while your fingers gently dug into his hair and your mouths so deliciously sucked on each other, he could not be anything other than perfect.

Kissing you felt like a dream, and a part of him was afraid that it was one.

“No, Hyunjin…” you mumbled, only a couple of seconds later. “We shouldn’t be doing this…”

“Why not?” He asked, pulling slightly away from you — not enough for your lips to stop brushing.

“I don’t think I’m ready for a relationship right now” you confessed what his sister had told him earlier that night and, therefore, what he already knew. “I’m sorry, I really shouldn’t have kissed you”.

“No, don’t be sorry for kissing me. Anything but that, Y/N. You have no idea how bad I’ve wanted to kiss you all this time” he tenderly ran his thumb up and down on your cheekbone. “I can wait until you’re ready. Starting tomorrow morning I’ll wait all you need me to, but right now just… let me kiss you for a little longer”.

Having him whisper those words when his mouth was faintly touching yours, could only make you feel yourself give in to his plea.

“Hm?” He asked, tracing your bottom lip with his thumb. “One more and I’ll stop”.

Unable to speak, as it seemed to be the norm that night, you closed your eyes; and that was enough for him to take the hint and replace the thumb on your bottom lip with his mouth, sweetly sucking on it before he softly traced it with his tongue, for you to let him in and meet him midway.

The desperation of your second kiss was no longer there, as he now took his time to engrave in his memory every single second of your mouth sucking on his and your tongue massaging his own. He didn’t know when he would ever get to kiss you again, after all, and he wanted to take in as much as he could of it.

He wanted to take his time now; and kiss you slowly, deeply, lovingly.

When you were both left panting for air, he rested his forehead on yours, cupping your nape with his hand and digging his fingers in your hair before he hid his face in the crook of your neck, as a breathy laugh abandoned his mouth.

“You’re driving me crazy” he confessed.

“I should be the one saying that,” you chuckled rather sadly. “I don’t know what you’re doing to me anymore, Hyunjin…”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean you’re confusing me so much right now. You say you love me and you make me feel so special, but then you go and…” you sighed, feeling him slowly withdraw his face from your neck as he tried to understand your point. “I wish it was that easy, but I can’t let myself fall for you now that I know what Dahye said is true”.

“I swear you’re making me question how much I actually drank, because that doesn’t make any sense and—You can’t do this to me, Y/N” his piercing eyes fixed on yours, and the way his voice sounded so calm now could only make your body tense up under him. “You can’t just kiss me and then tell me that…” he sighed, attempting to collect his thoughts. “If you don’t feel ready for a relationship I get it, and I’ll wait. I’ll wait for as long as you need me to, baby, that’s never been a problem. But you can’t just tell me that you’ll never love me back and then kiss me only to turn m—”

“When did I ever say I’d never love you back?” You questioned.

“When we were talking earlier?” He tilted his head in confusion. “I asked you if it would be so bad if what Dahye told you was true and you said yes”.

“Yes,” you agreed. “Because I can’t put myself through the hell your messy relationship with her would bring me”.

His eyebrows knitted together. “What messy relationship?”

“You know…” you avoided his eyes, only then being hit with how much the thought of him with someone else actually affected you. “This whole ‘fuck buddies’ thing and you going back to her no matter who you are with”.

“That’s ridiculous” he blurted out, almost offended that such an atrocity had just left your mouth. “Where did you even get that from?”

“That’s what Dahye told me” you said.

“That’s what…” the puzzle pieces finally connected in his head. “Is that why you said you wouldn’t be able to fall for me?”

“Yes?” You tilted your head questioningly. “Isn’t that what we were talking about all along?”

He should be mad at Dahye right then. He should want to scream at her for playing with the two of you like this.

Any other time, he would’ve been fuming. Right then, however, with your troubled expression as you didn’t get what was going on, with your pretty lips all swollen from how hard he’d been kissing you up until a minute ago, and having experienced such a wide range of emotions in a matter of minutes, he could only laugh.

Tilting his head back and letting a throaty laugh escape his mouth, he slumped back next to you on your mattress and covered his face with both hands, as he let his laughter take over him.

Nervousness, madness, embarrassment, relief, happiness; it was all mixed up into one loud, painful laughing fit.

He felt like a maniac, feeling you stare at him in worry and obliviousness, but he couldn’t find it in him to stop laughing.

“What’s so funny?” You wondered when he struggled to catch his breath.

“She lied” he explained, finally feeling like his laughter was coming to an end.

“She lied?”

“She lied” he confirmed, removing his hands from his face and wiping a couple of tears off his eyes before he locked them with you. “I don’t like her at all, Y/N. We hardly ever even talk, why would I—” he took in a deep breath, staring up at the ceiling as he felt like he was going crazy. “Can’t believe I cried for nothing”.

You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped your mouth, both over his last remark and over how relieved you felt to know it was all a misunderstanding, and that you had been right not to believe her in the first place.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t clear enough” you pouted, gently cupping his face when he turned to you.

He shook his head no, letting you know it was okay as he placed his hand on yours. “I didn’t specify either, so I was at fault, too” he smiled softly. “And we probably wouldn’t have ended up kissing if I hadn’t gotten so heated up anyway, so it was totally worth it”.

“You’re an idiot” you laughed once again, smiling when he leaned in and rested his forehead on yours.

“You still kissed me, though” he pointed out, bringing some heat to your cheeks. “Does that mean I actually have a chance now?”

“Was me kissing you not a good enough answer to that?”

“Kisses can mean nothing to some people, so…”

“I’m not one of those people, Hyunie” you let him know.

“Good,” he smiled, pulling you to his chest. “Because kissing you meant everything to me”.

You wrapped an arm around him, nuzzling the fabric of the black sweatshirt he was wearing and taking in his scent you loved so much.

“Shouldn’t we properly talk about what Dahye told us?” You mumbled.

“That, and about where we’re standing now, too” he agreed, sweetly tracing his fingertips up and down your back. “My head hurts now, though. I feel like I’m spiraling, I went through too many emotions in too little time”.

You giggled, looking up at him. “You want to continue this conversation tomorrow? When we’re both a little less overwhelmed?”

“Yeah…” he nodded. “I can sleep peacefully now that I know you feel something for me, too”.

You chuckled, making his bottom lip stick out in confusion when you pulled away from him and sat up on your bed. “It’s late, you can sleep here tonight. I’ll take the couch”.

He grabbed your wrist before you could get up. “Stay with me?”

“Hyun…” you hesitated.

“I won’t try anything, I promise” he was fast to say, well aware of where your hesitation was coming from. “Just need to feel you close tonight”.

If he was honest, any other time, he would’ve offered to take the couch and that would’ve been the end of it, but tonight he really needed your closeness. He needed to know you were there, to feel you next to him. And, thankfully for him, you needed just the same.

Silently motioning for him to get under the covers, you let him know you agreed to his request. He smiled widely, pressing a lingering kiss to your cheek before he did as told — making you laugh wholeheartedly when you got under the sheets as well and he wasted no time to pull you to his chest again and to tuck you in with him.

This entire day had been a mess. Hell, the whole fucking week had been unbearable. But you had been able to talk it out at last. Although messily, you now seemed to be on the same page about everything; from your feelings, to what you were looking for, to where the whole misunderstanding had originated.

This may not have been the conversation the two of you were expecting to have, but it was coming soon enough. Tonight, you could just go to sleep in each other’s arms, knowing what each other’s lips felt and tasted like, and with the certainty that your feelings were reciprocated.

Neither of you would have it any other way.

tag list: @jehhskz @iknowyouknowminho @doohnut @saintcosette @lailac13 @kayleefriedchicken @rikibun @yongbokkiesworld @seungzsmin @beautifulcolorgarden @hyunetopia @velvetmoonlght @automaticpersonabatpaper @httpdwaekki @brinnalaine @wondering-out-loud @feelikecinderella @nujeskz @amarecerasus @liknws @nhyunn @midsoulz @tirena1 @tinyelfperson @thatonexcgirl @iovecb97 @hynier @phenomenalgirl9 @your-favorite-pirate @jin-from-the-block @yearofthetiger25 @quokkacidal @stayconnecteed @kwanisms @yoonguurt @143hyunes @iiriam @cookielixie @hyunlvrs @allyrarara @machaandlofi @mehli-00 @justiceforvillains @minhosprettywife @whats-my-question @armystay89 @jaiuneamesolitaiire @hyeon-yi @skzstannie @onlyhyunjin

[corroded-hellfire]

I just need pre-relationship AYW!Eddie all pent up and feral for Reader. I need him whimpering when he touches himself after Reader leaves for the evening. I need him trying to picture anyone else besides his kids’ babysitter but he keeps picturing Reader.

Your wish is my command! 😘

Warnings: male masturbation, smut, p in v, unprotected (wrap it up), older!eddie, babysitter!reader, the longing is real

Words: 2.4k

[As You Wish masterlist]

“Go to sleep now,” you grumble playfully, ruffling Luke’s curls as he smiles up at you from his bed.

“One more story?” Luke asks, though his voice betrays how sleepy he already is.

“Come on, buddy,” Eddie says from the doorway. “She’s been nice enough to stay for dinner and read you two bedtime stories already.”

A smile that steals Eddie’s breath grows on your lips as you turn to look at your boss.

“You make it sound like such a hardship,” you quip.

“I don’t think your union allows for overtime,” Eddie replies.

You let out a soft giggle and Eddie feels his insides begin to melt. It’s catastrophically unfair, the effect you have on him. Not in his whole life has Eddie met someone who so effortlessly turns him on and makes his heart race. As impossible as it is to ignore the feelings, Eddie tries not to linger on them for a few reasons. One, you’re a complete pipe dream. There is no way you, beautiful, intelligent, compassionate, and hilarious you would ever see a man over a decade older than you in the same light that he sees you. Two, and which he admits is arguably the bigger reason, is that he’s married. Sure, it hasn’t been a real marriage in…God knows how long. But it’s still a legally binding marriage that he hasn’t even attempted to separate from. Not for lack of want, though. It’s hard to see a point when it would cause the breakup of his boys’ family, and for what? So Eddie could be all alone in some smaller unfamiliar home that he struggles to afford on his own while caring for his sons, only getting to see them half the time he does now? No. He basically is doing it all alone right now, with the lack of input from Brittany, but at least Luke and Ryan are in the home they know and the two combined household incomes can give them a pretty good life.

Unfortunately, all the logic in the world can’t cure Eddie’s addiction to you.

“Close your eyes, sleepyhead.” You stand up from the edge of the four-year-old’s bed and lean over to press a kiss to his forehead.

The way you bend down towards the boy gives Eddie a spectacular view of your ass. He’s forced to dig his nails into the palms of his hands to suppress the groan that so desperately wants to escape. As much as he internally chides himself, Eddie can’t tear his eyes away either. He gets so few chances to just look at you, that he can’t bring himself to cut this precious time short.

“Night night,” Luke says through a yawn.

“Night, pal,” Eddie says.

You boop your index finger against the little boy’s nose before standing up straight and heading in Eddie’s direction. The two of you exit into the hallway and Eddie closes the door almost all the way–leaving it open just a crack to allow some of the hallway light in.

The two of you are silent as you walk to the living room, both silently dreading that it’s time to part for the evening. You swipe your bag up from the couch and slip it onto your shoulder.

“I guess I’ll, uh, see you tomorrow,” you say, reluctantly taking steps toward the front door.

“Thanks for staying longer than you had to,” Eddie says, walking you to the door like always. He feels like he should add the words “for the boys” to the end of his sentence, but he can’t bring himself to. As much as the boys adore you, Eddie knows he is without a doubt the happiest one that you stayed for dinner and until bedtime.

“It was fun,” you tell him. “I always have fun here.”

“Always?” Eddie teases, raising his eyebrows. “Can I remind you that you said that the next time Luke has a meltdown?”

“Sure,” you reply with a chuckle.

The electricity in the air threatens to spark at any moment as Eddie reaches around you to open the front door.

“Drive careful, sweetheart,” he says.

“No,” you tease with a playful smirk. “I’m going to drive recklessly. Run all the red lights.”

“Don’t give me reason to worry,” Eddie mumbles, knocking his shoulder against yours.

“Aww,” you coo. “You worry about me?”

Heat rises to Eddie’s cheeks and he desperately wills it to move back down his body.

“Alright, smart ass.” Eddie wrinkles his nose up and pretends to shove you out the door.

With a laugh, you playfully stumble down the walkway a few steps, acting as if his push was that strong.

“Oh, fine!” you lament over-dramatically. “I’ll be a good girl! Bye, Eddie.”

A good girl. Suddenly, Eddie wishes that heat and blood would stay in his face instead of rushing to his groin like it currently is.

“Bye, sweetheart.”

The moment you’re safely in your car and Eddie hears the engine start, he closes the front door and groans in time with the locking mechanism clicking into place.

“This just feels cruel,” he mumbles to himself as he rests his forehead against the cool wood of the door. He lets himself stand there until he hears your car rumble down the road and off into the night.

It takes a Herculean effort to push himself up and head deeper into the house. Out of habit, Eddie glances at the clock on the wall to see if Brittany will be home soon or not. It’s useless though—there’s never a set time she comes home. Who knows where she is or what she’s doing? Or who she’s doing. The pseudo-schedule the household used to follow has fallen by the wayside, so Eddie mentally tells himself to ignore it altogether. Easier said than done, of course.

When Eddie steps into the hallway it’s silent. No sounds of Luke sneaking out of bed to play with his toys or Ryan fumbling for his flashlight to read beneath his covers. Heaving a sigh, Eddie decides he might as well take care of the situation in his pants.

Despite Brittany not being home, Eddie locks the bedroom door behind him. Luke has also started the bad habit of opening any and every door without knocking first. So, better to be safe than sorry.

“Okay, think of someone else,” Eddie says to himself as he rids himself of his clothes. “Anyone else. Not her.”

It shouldn’t be hard to think of another woman to get himself off. Hell, for the entirety of Eddie’s teenage years, he could’ve jacked it to almost any woman and it would be great. Now he can’t seem to get this one specific, unattainable woman out of his mind.

He shucks the last of his clothes off and lays down on his bed, wracking his brain for someone who can get the job done. Julia Roberts? Nah. Jennifer Aniston? No. Cindy Crawford? Nope. Nicole Kidman? Maybe….no. Aunt Viv from The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air? The first, not the second one. Still no.

“Fuck,” Eddie groans, letting his eyes fall closed as he wraps his hand around his semi-hard shaft. He licks over his lips and tries to let himself relax. The only way Eddie is going to be able to take care of this problem is to think about you and he knows it. He also knows he needs to hurry up if he wants to finish before Brittany comes home.

The mere thought of the woman who sleeps next to him at night has him softening slightly in his hand. A snort of laughter comes out, Eddie finding that humorous. Objectively, Brittany is beautiful, but knowing the rot and decay that lays just beneath the surface ruins any attractiveness Eddie could ever find in her anymore. Even though he already knows what will happen, Eddie immediately switches his thoughts over to you to see the effect. It’s instant. His cock comes to life at the very thought of your name.

No shit, Eddie thinks to himself as he opens his legs a little wider. Because she’s literally a fucking goddess. God, those eyes. Eddie’s hand grips himself a little tighter and moves down towards the base.

“Say you’re a good girl again, baby,” Eddie mumbles under his breath. Fuck, he can’t believe he was lucky enough to hear those words come from your lips. Jesus, he can hardly imagine being lucky enough to come home to you at the end of the day. Walking in the door after work and seeing you is already what he looks forward to all day, he can’t fathom how he would feel if you greeted him with a kiss and stayed there with him and the boys all night. And once the boys go to bed it’s time for some fun.

“Please.”

The word tumbles from Eddie’s lips but he’s not entirely sure what he’s asking for. You to be there with him? You to be by his side always? You to be here, naked, with your hand around him instead of his own?

Okay, Eddie thinks, shifting to make himself more comfortable. There we go, think about coming home to her.

He begins to slowly stroke his cock up and down.

Eddie imagines walking through the front door and kicking his boots off. Your voice hums sweetly from the kitchen and it brings a smile to his face.

“What smells so good, huh?” he asks as he strolls into the room.

The sight he’s greeted by is almost enough to bring him to his knees. You stand at the counter, facing him, an apron on and a bowl full of cake batter held in your hands.

“Welcome home,” you say.

Dark brown eyes follow your every move as you slowly dip your forefinger into the batter and pop it into your mouth. Eddie finds himself holding his breath as you slide your finger out from between your plush pink lips at a torturous pace.

As if the first time wasn’t enough, you dip your finger back in, but instead of putting it in your mouth this time, you point your finger up and stick your tongue out to lick every speck of vanilla batter off of it.

“Oh, fuck me,” Eddie moans.

With a soft laugh, you set the bowl down and look up at Eddie through your thick eyelashes.

“Funny. I was going to say that to you.”

A rough growl reverberates from Eddie’s chest as he moves forward to grab you by the hips. It’s only once he has his hands on you that he realizes not only are you wearing the apron—you’re wearing only the apron.

“God damn, baby,” he mutters. Calloused hands slide back just slightly and come into contact with your bare ass. He drops his head forward to rest against yours with a helpless whine.

You giggle, tilting your head up to brush your nose against his.

“I like the sounds you make,” you tell him, voice thick with lust.

Before he responds, Eddie presses a few gentle kisses along your bare shoulder and up the side of your throat.

“I want to hear your noises, too.”

“Hmm,” you hum. “I don’t think that’ll be very hard to manage.” You reach up with your left hand and tug on the tied apron string resting on the nape of your neck. The front of the apron falls down, leaving your entire torso exposed to Eddie.

A guttural groan meets your ears as strong hands grab you by the waist and help you up onto the counter. Immediately, you spread your legs and Eddie stands between them, the two of you fighting with the apron to get it all the way off you.

Eddie tosses it over his shoulder as you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling the two of your bodies as close as possible.

“Eddie,” you whine, reaching up to bury your fingers in his unruly curls.

“What baby?” His breath brushes against your lips, sending a pleasant shiver down your spine.

“Need you.�� Using your grip on his hair, you pull Eddie’s face down to crash against yours.

Mouths meet, lips dancing, tongues exploring, and teeth clashing. Strong yet gentle fingertips dig into your skin, yearning to hold you as tight as humanly possible. Nothing is close enough.

Eddie pulls back just enough to playfully nip at your bottom lip.

“Being such a good girl for me,” he rasps.

A smile tugs at the corners of your mouth as you run your nose along the edge of Eddie’s jawline.

“Wanna be so good for you. Wanna feel you, Eddie. Pretty please?”

A smug smirk grows on Eddie’s face as he reaches between your two bodies to unzip his navy blue coveralls. You shove the material down his hips as Eddie whips his white undershirt off over his head.

“Ready for me, princess?”

Eddie lines himself up with your entrance, glancing up at your face as he waits for your approval.

“God, yes!” You nod emphatically, wiggling your hips in an attempt to get him inside of you faster.

Eddie grins at your eagerness, putting both of you out of your misery as he pushes inside.

“Fuck,” he groans.

“Oh!” You whimper, clinging to Eddie’s shoulders.

The sweet little noises spilling from your lips only encourage Eddie. He pulls almost all the way out before thrusting back into your tight wet heat. It feels as close to euphoria as Eddie’s ever felt. He wants to spend forever between your legs, but it feels far too good to last long.

“Feels so good,” you whine.

“Yeah, baby?” Eddie asks. “Like when I…oh, fuck.”

Eddie doesn’t have time to imagine what he’d say next before hot cum starts to pour over his fist.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he mumbles as his orgasm works its way through his body. His hand keeps going, milking his cock for everything that it’s worth.

Once he’s well and truly spent, Eddie lets his boneless body sink into the mattress. His arm flings over the side of the bed and his fingertips brush against his t-shirt laying on the floor. Blindly, he picks it up and wipes his coated hand off before wiping the cum off his abdomen, legs, and anywhere else it went.

“Holy shit,” Eddie sighs. His head falls to the side and his eyes slip closed. A goofy smile comes to his face as his mind returns to you. “Fuck, I’m so gone for her.”

[bunnis-monsters]

SFW

a/n: here’s another kofi request, featuring Momo the bunny hybrid playing in the snow for the first time ^^

Your bunny hybrid lover, Momo, used to hibernate during the winter. Because he lived in the wild by himself, there was no reason to stay awake when food was scarce and predators were desperate for a meal.

But then he met you, and all of a sudden he couldn’t even fathom being away from you for an entire season. The thought of not getting to enjoy your kisses and soft snuggles or eat your delicious cooking while he spent all winter asleep was… heart wrenching.

“So you’ll stay with me for winter,” you said with a smile, carrying a basket of fresh vegetables and fruit on your hip. “It’s settled. Now help me start canning, winter will creep up on us before we know it.”

And it really did.

Summer and fall were gone in a flash, the air growing colder as trees lost their leaves and the grass became withered and dry. Soon, snow would blanket the earth and it would be time to hunker down for the harsh winter months.

But for now, your bunny hybrid mate was collecting firewood with some other male hybrids in the area.

“You’re really not hibernating this year, Momo?”

Momo’s bunny ears flicked, and he turned to his deer hybrid friend. “Sorry, I’ll be with my mate this year.”

A raccoon hybrid nearby laughed, leaning against a tree. “You’ll miss out on the best sleep of the year, Momo. Is a girl really worth it?”

His foot thumped against the ground rapidly. Momo loved you with his whole heart, so he really disliked when his friends didn't take your relationship seriously. “Yes, it is completely worth it. I love her.”

Momo carried back the firewood with a huff, setting it down by the fireplace. You were at the stove, preparing dinner and humming some love song you heard on the radio. It took him a moment to register that you were speaking to him, he always got distracted by how much he adored every little thing you did.

“Momo? Did you hear anything I just said?”

He blinked before giving you a flustered smile. “Uh.. mmm, what did you say?”

You bit back a laugh, wiping your hands off on your apron before you turned his way.

“I asked if you could watch the stove for a moment, I need to check the news.”

Momo scurried over, taking the wooden spoon from your hand and taking over stirring the soup you were working on. “O-of course, sweetheart. I can handle that.”

You returned to the kitchen a moment later, phone in hand. “Oh wow, we’re in for a couple inches of snow tonight.”

Momo’s ears perked up at your words, clicking slightly. He had never seen snow before due to hibernating every year, and safe to say he was pretty excited. “Really? And snow… is it really as cold as people say?”

“Mhm!”

The two of you ate dinner then curled up in bed together. It was hard for Momo to drift off when he knew that he’d get to see fresh snow in the morning, but your warmth and soft breathing lulled him into sleep.

He woke up to you getting dressed. Momo rubbed his sleepy eyes, sitting up. “Mmph… what are you doing?”

You turned, giving him a smile. “Getting ready to play in the snow, of course.”

Momo never got dressed quicker than he did that morning. You made sure to bundle him up properly before opening the door.

The ground was covered in a thick layer of snow, and it crunched under his feet with each step. He was in awe, bending over to reach out and touch it.

“C-cold!”

You laughed as he drew back and hid behind you, his fluffy tail wagging furiously. “Yes, it’s very cold. C’mon, we can build a snowman first.”

Momo laughed as he ran around the yard, making the third ball for your snowman. Once his head was on, the two of you decorated it with some rocks and a scarf.

As Momo was admiring his work, he yelped when he felt a snowball hit his head. You were standing a small distance behind him, giggling as you prepared another ball.

“H-hey!”

Momo pouted as he began preparing a ball too, but several times he was pelted with snowballs before he could get his first one done.

After tiring yourselves out with a snowball fight, the two of you laid in the snow, your breaths coming out in white puffs as you made snow angels.

“Is it like this every year?” Momo asked, turning to meet your gaze.

You shook your head, smiling as you reached out to brush some snow out of his hair. “Mmm… no. Although it snows every year, I never have this much fun. Usually I just spend winter inside, alone. You... make everything a lot better.”

His cheeks flushed red, and he looked away in embarrassment. “Ah…”

The two of you sat in a comfortable silence for a bit before you sat up. “Brr, it’s cold. Let’s go inside and I’ll make some hot chocolate.”

“With cookies?”

“Mhm.”

The two of you headed inside, hand in hand, warming up just so you could go back to playing in the snow later.

———————

SFW TAGLIST: @strawberrypoundtown @avalordream @icommitwarcrimes @im-eating-rn @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @peachesdabunny @misswonderfrojustice @i8kaeya @lollboogurl @mssmil3y @namjoons-t1ddies @izarosf1833 @zyettemoon1800 @kassandra-hawthorne @vexillum-moeru @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @readeryn68 @danielle143 @omglovelylaila @midromiell @toocollectionchaos-universe-blog @hammerhead96 @bubblez-blop @snugglyshoji @wanderlustingcastaway @amberexe2 @an-ever-angry-bi @nenggie @rainejiang @lostsomewhereinthegarden @idkccdfnfz @xrenka @arcticat @v3lv3tf0x @ghostiegirl56 @aerangi @kxnnxy @joviaschaoticmind @danielle143 @roxy776699 @katsukis1wife @chaoticevilbakugo

[yutarot]

ride or die. l.jn smau

021 — queen of hearts. wc: 3.4k (sorry)

YN POV

you really don’t want to go to this party.

after your chat with chenle, you’ve decided that everything he said was complete and utter nonsense. you? in love with jeno? you laugh at the thought. so as you slip into the outfit that winter picked out for you and receive the thumbs-up approval from mark, you decide that you’re going to make tonight worth it. you’re going to let out all of the pent up confusion of the last few days, all of your built up emotions. you're going to spend the entire party on the other side of the room to jaemin and most certainly jeno, and no-one is going to fall in love.

its going to be simple, unproblematic: exactly what you need. you want things back to the way they were, before you discovered jeno's identity, before your life was sent into complete and utter chaos.

in all honesty, the situation with jaemin upset you for more reasons than one. because, not only did jaemin having feelings for you mean that you've had to repeatedly keep turning him down, but it then meant that jeno’s identity being exposed was completely futile, and it made you feel awful.

after all, jaemin leaked jeno’s identity because of you, and despite jeno being okay with it, you aren’t.

putting your thoughts aside, you reinsert yourself into reality, standing side by side to mark and winter, horrifically aware of all the eyes around you. haalands frat house was spacious, a hue of dark multicoloured light stretching from wall to wall, absorbed in the imminent sound of upbeat music and flood of bodies. it hasn't gone unnoticed to the rest of the people at the party the way that you and jeno have avoided each other all night. occasionally, you catch a glance of him across the room, nursing the same drink he's had since he got here, whilst you’re way beyond your sixth, or perhaps even your eighth, its hard to tell. but people were starting to notice, and whether you like it or not, you're going to have to speak to him at some point. just not yet, you need a few more drinks first.

excusing yourself from winter and mark, you see chenle and his friend, jisung, pouring drinks at the side of the room, and you make the very unwise decision to go over to them.

"pour me one?" you say, extending your cup out to jisung who shyly pours the remaining liquor into your cup. chenle however, is unimpressed, giving you the most diabolical look of discontent, his eyebrow raising.

you squeeze past chenle in silence to grab some lemonade for the rest of your drink before he finally speaks.

"you gonna explain why you're doing everything but following my advice?" his voice is laced with a humorous tone of annoyance.

"no.." you reply, "im just.. feeling out the atmosphere first."

"oh right, okay. only for two hours." he flips back sarcastically.

jisung laughs awkwardly, not aware at all what the two of you are talking about.

"okay fine, I changed my mind."

chenle gives you a deadpan look. "how so?"

"what you said yesterday, i think you're wrong. "

chenle doesn't reply, he only laughs. "yeah. okay." he keeps chuckling to himself, so much so that you get annoyed, turning back around to go find mark and winter.

if, two months ago, you had told yourself that you would have walked away from the chenle zhong at a party mid conversation, you wouldn't believe it. you take the mental note to tell mark later, rubbing in all the times that he made fun of your crush in the past.

as you get back to your best friends, winter notices the cogs turning in the back of your mind. “why do i feel like you’re planning to kill someone.” she giggles.

“she’s pretty drunk.” mark replies for you, “she’s probably just trying to keep herself from throwing up everywhere.”

winter laughs, leaning round to check if you’re okay, in which you reply. “im not drunk, just annoyed.”

winter and mark exchange a glance.

as if on queue, you realise that one of your's and winters go-to party songs has began to fill the room: exceeder by mason. jumping out of your anger feuded trance, you grab winters hand, leading her to the centre of the party.

you let yourself go, ignoring all the prying eyes of those around you, finally basking in your own enjoyment, along-side your bestfriend.

you feel free, safe from judgement.

but all of that comes to a halt when you hear renjuns voice replace the large sound of music.

“those of you that want to join for the dare circle stay here, those of you that don’t. politely, fuck off." he adds on a "thanks." to the end, as if it would make his sentence suddenly super polite.

a dare circle? at a college party? you feel sick at the thought. but winters steel grip keeps you in place, and it’s not until you’re sat in the circle ready to play do you realise who’s remaining in the room.

to either side of you sit winter and mark, and when you scan your eyes around the rest, the voices of renjun, haechan, haaland, jaemin and chenle all fill the silence, aswell as some other faces you don't recognise. but when your eyes meet the person sitting at the far end of the circle, attention already baring into you, you go cold. jeno sits, leaning back on his hands and he looks at you. his face is calm, but you sense something even deeper whirring inside him, and you’re intrigued to find out what it is.

before you can think any further on the matter, haaland yells something incoherent, and when someone asks 'what the actual fuck that was supposed to mean', he shrugs, pointing to haechan.

“the fuck do you want me to do?!" haechan argues, but haaland gives him the middle finger.

haechan rolls his eyes dramatically. “fine, you big oof, i’ll explain the rules.” he pauses, picking up a pack of cards from the centre of the circle. “each card is correspondant to a dare. the number on the card indicates how many shots you have to take if you don’t do the dare, and the symbol indicates what dare you get."

everyone in the circle nods, excitement filling the air around you

"clubs: you have to choose someone to slap you in the face.”

beside you, mark bursts into laughter, “fucking praying i get to see haaland slap someone.”

you zone mark out, rolling your eyes as you listen to the rest of haechan’s explanation. “spades: you’ll be asked a personal question to answer.”

sounds pretty self explanatory, though you’re betting you’ll get a question about you and jeno, but it’s nothing you haven’t dealt with before. it’s become second nature to lie about your relationship with him, girls constantly coming up to you asking all sorts of questions, and you know they’re just feeling you out to see if you’ll last, waiting for their opportunity to have him for themselves. you’ll never understand the appeal.

well.. maybe some things you could understand.

“diamonds: you have to give the number on the card in dollars to the person on your left.”

a unified moan of annoyance floods through the circle, pleads of ‘fuck you im broke.’ and a 'i literally just got fired' from jisung, flying around the room.

“and hearts.” he pauses, eyes scanning meticulously between each of you, “hearts: you have to kiss someone else in the circle.”

after haechan explains the rules, eager and completely incoherent yells expand from the people around you. “easy.” winter chuckles, winking at haechan, and mark throws her a look of disgust.

“i really do hate people in relationships.” mark groans. you couldn’t agree more, though you couldn’t openly agree that in this setting.

haechan shuffles the cards before placing the deck in the centre of the circle and obviously choosing winter to go first. she giggles as she picks up the top card, flipping it over to reveal the 7 of clubs. the entire circle fades into a fit of laughter as you notice the drop in haechans expression.

"fuck you for choosing me to go first." she says, aimed at haechan. you all watch in anticipation as she places herself infront of him, everyone around her urging her on as she places her palm to haechans cheek, only to (lightly) slap him a few moments later. the circle is in a disarray of chaos, haechan eventually joining in, laughing at his own seriousness.

its winters turn to choose who's next and you're a little relieved that she's sober enough not to try and mess with you. a sigh escapes you as she chooses mark, who, on the contrary, is absolutely livid.

he picks up a card and flips it, the 4 of diamonds. he kicks his feet in anger as he digs into his wallet, taking out 4 dollars and passing it to winter, who just so happens to be on his left.

"I want that back later." he says.

winter laughs, "i'll buy you a burger."

when its marks turn to choose, he picks jaemin. you immediately turn to your best friend, eyes telling him just how much you wish to kill him. mark only shrugs before whispering to you.

"games a game."

you hit him on the back of his head in annoyance.

the circle is suddenly tense as jaemin reaches for the deck, and when he flips the top card, you go stiff.

"ooooooo, 2 of spades." haechan says, a smirk plastered on his face

somehow you hear haalands voice booming over the sound of your heart racing. "let me ask! let me ask! let me ask!" you exchange glances with literally everyone else in the room as you question what the hell haaland wants to ask, but you let him because, what the hell, why not?

"how do you feel knowing your best friend is dating your crush?"

the room falls silent.

that's why not,

"what? what is it?" haaland whispers to haechan, "what did I say wrong?" haechan slaps him on his arm, getting him to shut up, seemingly very intrigued on jaemins answer.

as are you.

but jaemin says nothing. he just looks at jeno, who very slightly shakes his head, almost unnoticeable.

but you notice.

after what seems like one too many seconds of silence, jaemin reaches towards the bottle in the middle of the circle and the entire room bursts into an energy of drunken excitement and chaos.

jaemin, seemingly angry at the situation, points to the one person in the room you've been hoping, praying, wouldn't be picked.

jeno.

if you thought the circle couldn't get more tense, you were wrong.

although you know its your imagination, you feel the burning of everyones attention on you, though the dare is placed on jeno.

he says nothing, just leaning forward and grabbing a card from the top of the deck.

you study jenos face as he reads the card. his expression hardens, eyes immediately going to yours as he places the card in the centre of the circle for everyone to see.

the energy of the room returns.

you look down at the card and your heart plunges out of your chest.

the queen of hearts.

this can only go one of two ways: jeno is going to somehow down 12 shots of straight liquor, one after the other, or he's going to decide to spare himself a trip to the hospital and be forced to, instead, go through with his dare.

to kiss somebody else in the circle.

immediately, jeno looks to you, a face of question lining his features, as if he's asking for your permission.

everyone glances between you and jeno, jeering you on. you feel suffocated, surrounded by faces of both people who don't know the truth and people that do, a plethora of judgement and the utmost fear of what's true: that it has to be you, you're his girlfriend.

you begin to panic. this was it, you couldn't escape it. this wasn't like being confronted by one of samo's fangirls, this wasn't like one of your faux dates with jeno. because atleast then you could pretend it was something it wasn't.

but this is different. a kiss is a kiss.

you can barely keep up with your own mind. you decide there's only one way out of this. you have to get out of there, now. you have to find a place away from all of these faces. so that's what you do, you get up, finding yourself heading straight to the nearest bedroom.

you close the door, collecting yourself. you feel stupid, cowardly, getting up and leaving like that. if people didn't think something was up between you two before, then they definitely do now.

but it wasn't them that you were worried about.

amidst your panicking and uncontrollable embarrassment, you hear the door click.

“winter, im okay i just-“

“hi.” jeno’s voice reaches down inside you, ripping up all hope of composure. you don’t know why you feel like this, why you feel like your heart is about to explode out of your chest and make a mess of haalands carpet. but you can’t control it, no matter how hard you try to.

“sorry,” you say quietly, “i thought you were winter.”

“well im not, if that helps.” he laughs, and you grin at his silliness.

"not really.." you say, the words coming out although you don't mean for them to.

there’s a pause of silence before jeno speaks up again. “sorry if i, you know, freaked you out in there. i just thought it’d be suspicious if it wasn’t you.”

“it’s okay.” it’s not okay. it’s not okay at all.

“can i ask you something?” he asks. you look up at him, the same stoic expression plastered on his face.

“okay..”

“why have you been avoiding me?” he says, a complete contrast to whatever you thought it was that he was going to say. “everywhere i go i feel your eyes follow me, but that’s all it is. not once have you spoken to me at this party until now, and frankly, im getting pretty fucking annoyed about it.”

his words catch you off guard, you’ve never seen jeno angry like this, eyes cold and unrelentless.

“it’s just… easier to pretend you’re not here.” you reply. it’s true, jeno’s mere existence is only a reminder of how much you ruined his life. though it was indirectly, it’s still your fault.

he’s silent, as if he’s suddenly understood your thoughts, before he speaks. “don’t.”

“don’t what?”

“don’t pretend im not here. it’s killing me.”

something in him shifts, as if all the anger in him suddenly turns and drifts out of his mind, replaced by a solemn feeling of helplessness.

but his jaw is still clenched. hard.

that feeling of something else floating at the back of jenos mind overwhelms you again. you're curious, about him, about you, and suddenly your mind races back to your conversation with chenle.

'just see what happens if you follow what your heart tells you.'

jeno can see that your thinking, and you pray that he can't read your mind.

"you're not okay, yn. what's going on in that little head of yours? why did you run in here?"

you take a moment to collect yourself, deciding that you need to tell him. he's the only other person in the world that could understand what it feels like to be in the position where something fake could, so quickly, seem so real.

"everyone was watching.” you say, quietly, looking down at the floor to avoid eye contact.

but when he doesn't speak, you look up. his eyes find yours, brows furrowed.

“isn’t that the point?” he says, mocking you. you can’t help but scoff at his response.

its the attention of it all. it’s not the people that don’t know the truth that worries you, its the people that do. fear struck you at the possibility that if you were to kiss jeno, it would suddenly make everything seem too real.

and that was not what you wanted.

despite what chenle thought you did.

you realise you haven't answered him, incessantly rambling in your own mind, when a small smile lines jenos features, atmosphere shifting and causing you to tense as he speaks up.

jeno steps closer to you, and you don’t know if it’s the alcohol speaking or you’re just plain delusional, but you swear he’s looking at your lips.

your theory is confirmed the second he opens his mouth to speak.

"how about now." his voice is soft. "its just us."

you don't know what to do, to say. so you just let him speak, unaware if its the sudden change in atmosphere that's making you dizzy, the alcohol, or jenos words.

but as he continues to speak, you decide its definitely the latter.

jeno tilts his head, looking down at you. "as your boyfriend, its only right that i can kiss you. no?"

you look at him in awe.

before you have time to register what the hell you're doing, you do the unthinkable, your actions exploding with a lack of consequence and an overwhelming new urge of confidence.

just once, you tell yourself, just to prove to myself that it’s not real.

you don’t think, you don’t want to think, as you step forward and reach up, hand falling to the back of his neck. you pull his head down and almost immediately his lips find yours.

its soft, careful. but as jeno realises what's happening, the tension between you shifts and suddenly, it's as if there was something new between you, finally imploding in your senses. it’s desperate, controlled and yet you have no idea what you’re doing.

jeno, however, seems to know exactly what he’s doing.

subtly, you feel his smile against your lips as he reaches a hand down to your waist, circling your lower back and pulling you flush against his body. you don’t have time to react, he’s taken full control over everything, as if he’s been wanting to do this for the longest time.

he breaks the kiss, murmuring against your skin. “you know there’s no-one watching us, right?” he leans back in, not even waiting for your reply.

“i know.” you manage to say. its a simple question, but it means so much.

there’s something so indescribably natural about it, as if yours and jeno’s relationship had been real the whole time. but it hadn’t, and you were becoming increasingly aware of it with every press of his lips against yours.

he senses something within you and he pulls away, eyes searching in your own as he pushes your hair from your face, his touch barely there. “you okay?”

you don’t need to say anything; he knows what your thinking. his hands slowly let loose from your sides, letting you stand onto your own weight and your knees almost buckle at the action. “easy, i've got you.” he says, holding you again and finally letting go only after you've regained your balance.

the air between you is thick, the confusion of what the hell just happened suffocating you.

you open your mouth to say something, to ease the awkwardness between you, but jeno beats you to it.

you feel awkward, like you want to do anything but stay in this room with him. he senses your stiffness, reaching past you to grab the door handle.

“hope you enjoy the rest of the party, pretty.” he mocks you with the last word, opening the door to let you both out of the room.

you scoff, eyes rolling with a small laugh. “i’ll try.” you say, before walking back into the room, multiple pairs of eyes staring as you both appear.

you sit back inbetween winter and mark, jeno also taking his rightful place back in the circle.

“what happened with you guys, you were gone for ages?” mark whispers.

you reply, “i think we just ruined everything.” you’re talking to mark, but your eyes never leave jeno’s.

fuck, you’re right. you really have just ruined everything.

but it was at that moment that you realised something crucial to why whatever just happened, had happened.

you wanted it to. and that very fact chilled you to the bone.

previous : mlist : next

notes; not me making up a whole drinking game because i didn’t wanna use truth or dare ☠️

taglist — open! @jenohyun @jirsungs @do-you-remember-summer-127 @ddolbyong @stqrgr7 @thatsatricky1 @sunghoonsgfreal @nattan127 @ssweetreveries @flamingi @chenlesfavorite @peterm4rker @snoopyjimin @akunoeyebrows @junviadinho @slayhaechan @f6llsun @multifandomania @cookiehaos @catecita @mrsjohnnysuh @luv4jeno @hyuckies18 @dreamiestay @tangerinelovelees @jjaegyeom @https-yeonjun @nanaxwi @yukisroom97 @nosungluv @mrkleelvr @neocrashed @jaedgemental @apolloxxivmin @kyubing @catdonut657 @dudekiss3r @juyeonshour @hamjwis @antifrggile @mmjhh1998 @thegracerammy @jenocity23 @honeynanamin @bluedbliss @lampcults @yyangj3lly

[elryuse]

Caught In The Act

Vivi X Male Reader

Tags : Childhood Friend Vivi, Caught Masturbating, Kissing, Handjob, Romance, A Bit Of Comedy, And Lots of Sex, Creampies

Words : 3,375 words

This is a Commission Work for My Friend @starconstruction Hoped you Like it Bruv.

The sunlight filtered through the blinds, casting lazy stripes across Y/n’s bedroom. His heart raced, not from the heat of the day but from the thoughts that had consumed him for hours—thoughts of her. Vivi. The girl who had been his best friend since they were kids, the one who always knew how to make him laugh, the one who had grown into a woman so breathtakingly beautiful it hurt to look at her sometimes.

Her smile, her laugh, the way her curves seemed to defy gravity… God, she was all he could think about lately. And today, alone in his room, that thinking had taken a very specific turn.

Y/n lay on his bed, hand moving rhythmically under the covers. His breath hitched as he imagined Vivi standing there, her dark hair cascading over her shoulders, lips parted just enough to make his pulse spike. He thought about her hands, soft and delicate, trailing down his chest, reaching lower… fuck. He bit his lip, stifling a moan as his grip tightened. He was close, so close, and the fantasy was vivid—Vivi leaning in, her breath warm against his ear as she whispered his name—

“Y/n? Are you home?”

His eyes snapped open, his hand freezing mid-stroke. No. No no no. That voice. It wasn’t in his head. It was real. Panic surged through him as his door creaked open, revealing the very person he had been fantasizing about.

Vivi stood in the doorway, her wide eyes taking in the scene before her. Y/n scrambled to cover himself with the blanket, but it was too late. She had seen everything—the guilty flush on his face, the desperate attempt to hide his arousal, the unmistakable bulge beneath the sheets.

For a moment, neither of them moved. The silence stretched, thick and heavy, until Vivi broke it with a surprised laugh. “Well… this is… unexpected.”

Y/n groaned, burying his face in his hands. “I’m so sorry—I didn’t mean—I thought I was alone—”

She raised an eyebrow, stepping fully into the room and closing the door behind her. Her expression was unreadable, but there was something in her gaze—something curious, almost teasing. “You know, most people lock their doors when they’re… busy.”

“I—” He couldn’t even form a coherent sentence. His mind was racing, his body still thrumming with the tension he hadn’t released. “Vivi, I swear, this isn’t—”

She held up a hand, cutting him off. Her lips curved into a small, knowing smile. “Relax, Y/n. I’m not mad.” She took a step closer, then another, until she was standing right beside his bed. Her eyes flicked downward, to where the blanket barely concealed his erection.

Y/n’s breath caught. “Vivi, what are you—”

Before he could finish, she reached out, her fingers brushing against the edge of the blanket. Slowly, deliberately, she lifted it away, exposing him completely. His face burned, but he couldn’t look away from her. Her expression was intent, focused, as if she were studying him.

“You’ve been thinking about me, haven’t you?” she asked softly, her voice low and sultry in a way he had never heard before.

He swallowed hard, his throat dry. “Vivi, I—”

She knelt on the bed, her movements graceful and unhurried. Her hand settled on his thigh, sending a jolt of electricity through him. “It’s okay,” she murmured, her fingers tracing idle patterns on his skin. “I don’t mind.”

His heart pounded in his chest. This couldn’t be real. It had to be some twisted extension of his fantasy. But the warmth of her touch, the scent of her perfume—it was all too vivid to be anything but real.

“Vivi,” he choked out, his voice trembling. “What are you doing?”

She met his gaze, her eyes dark with an emotion he couldn’t quite place. “Something I’ve wanted to do for a long time,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. Then, without warning, her hand closed around him, firm and sure.

A strangled gasp escaped his lips as pleasure shot through him. Her touch was electric, igniting every nerve in his body. He reached for her wrist, half-heartedly trying to stop her, but she swatted his hand away.

“Don’t,” she said firmly, her grip tightening ever so slightly. “Let me take care of you.”

Her words sent a shiver down his spine. He tried to protest, to tell her this was wrong, but the sensation of her hand moving up and down his length stole the breath from his lungs. His hips bucked involuntarily, driving himself deeper into her grasp.

“That’s it,” she purred, leaning closer. Her breath tickled his ear as she whispered, “Just let go, Y/n. You don’t have to hold back anymore.”

Her pace quickened, her strokes becoming more deliberate. He could feel the pressure building, coiling tight in his core. His fingers dug into the sheets, his entire body tensing as he fought to keep control.

But it was useless. Every touch, every movement, pushed him closer to the edge. He opened his mouth to warn her, but all that came out was a broken moan. His release hit him like a tidal wave, overwhelming and all-consuming.

Vivi didn’t flinch as he came, her hand working him through it until he was spent and trembling. When he finally collapsed back onto the bed, his chest heaving, she leaned in, her lips brushing against his ear.

“See?” she teased, her voice dripping with satisfaction. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

Y/n stared at her, his mind reeling. This was Vivi—his best friend, the girl he had known his whole life. And yet, in this moment, she felt like a stranger. A beautiful, dangerous stranger who had just turned his world upside down.

She climbed off the bed, wiping her hand on the hem of her shirt. Her smirk was positively wicked. “You know,” she said casually, as if they were discussing the weather, “this doesn’t have to be a one-time thing.”

His eyes widened. “Vivi, what are you saying?”

She shrugged, heading for the door. But before she left, she glanced back over her shoulder, her grin making his stomach flip. “Think about it, Y/n. I’ll be waiting.”

And with that, she was gone, leaving him lying there, dazed and utterly speechless. The sound of the door clicking shut echoed in his ears, a stark reminder of what had just happened—and the promise of what might come next.

The days that followed were a blur for Y/n. Every time he closed his eyes, he could feel Vivi’s hand on him, her touch burning into his memory like a brand. Her words lingered in his mind, echoing over and over: “This doesn’t have to be a one-time thing.” He wasn’t sure if she was serious or just teasing him—he couldn’t tell with her anymore. But the thought of it consumed him, leaving him restless and unable to focus on anything else.

Then came the knock on his door.

It was late, the house quiet except for the faint hum of the refrigerator downstairs. Y/n froze, his heart pounding as he stared at the door. Was it her? Had she really come back? Before he could decide what to do, the door creaked open, and there she was.

Vivi stood in the doorway, wearing a loose tank top that clung to her curves in all the right places and a pair of shorts so short they barely covered her thighs. Her hair was down, cascading over her shoulders like silk, and her lips curved into that same devilish smirk he’d come to associate with trouble.

“Hey,” she said softly, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation. “Did you miss me?”

Y/n swallowed hard, his throat suddenly dry. “Uh… yeah. I mean, no. I mean—” He stopped himself, realizing how ridiculous he sounded. “What are you doing here, Vivi?”

She tilted her head, her smirk widening. “I told you I’d be waiting. And now I’m here.” She took a step closer, her hips swaying slightly as she moved. “Unless… you don’t want me here?”

His breath hitched. Of course he wanted her there. He wanted her more than he’d ever wanted anything in his life. But his brain was screaming at him to think, to consider the consequences, to remember that this was Vivi, his best friend since childhood. The girl who had always been there for him, who knew him better than anyone else.

But then she was standing in front of him, close enough that he could smell her perfume—something sweet and floral that made his head spin. Her eyes locked onto his, dark and full of promise.

“Do you trust me?” she whispered, her voice low and husky.

He nodded before he could stop himself. “Always.”

Her smile softened, just for a moment, before she reached up and placed her hands on his chest. His heart raced beneath her touch, and he felt himself growing hard already, the reaction instantaneous.

Without another word, she began to unbutton his shirt, her fingers deft and deliberate. Each brush of her skin against his sent a shiver through him, the anticipation building with every passing second. When the last button came undone, she pushed the fabric off his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor.

“You’re nervous,” she observed, her voice teasing but gentle. “Don’t be. This is me, Y/n. It’s still just me.”

He swallowed again, his hands trembling at his sides. “I know. It’s just… this is…”

“Different?” she finished for him, her lips curving into that familiar smirk. “Good different, though. Right?”

He couldn’t help but nod. Good different didn’t even begin to cover it.

Her hands slid down his chest, tracing the lines of his muscles, and he sucked in a sharp breath. When her fingers reached the waistband of his jeans, she paused, looking up at him through her lashes.

“Can I?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

All he could do was nod again, his mind going blank as she undid his belt and zipper with agonizing slowness. When she finally tugged his jeans down, letting them pool around his ankles, he felt exposed, vulnerable in a way he never had before.

But then she knelt before him, and all thoughts of vulnerability vanished.

Her hands slid up his thighs, sending sparks of electricity through his body, and when she wrapped her fingers around him, he groaned, the sound escaping before he could stop it. She smiled up at him, her eyes gleaming with mischief.

“Still think about me?” she teased, her thumb brushing over the tip of him.

“All the time,” he admitted, his voice shaking.

“Good.” Her grip tightened, and she began to stroke him slowly, each movement deliberate and calculated. He clenched his fists at his sides, trying to hold himself together, but it was impossible. The sensations were too much, too intense.

When she leaned forward and took him into her mouth, he nearly lost it.

Her lips were warm and soft, her tongue swirling around him in ways that made his knees buckle. He gasped, his hips jerking involuntarily, but she kept him steady, her hands gripping his thighs as she worked her magic.

“Vivi…” he moaned, his voice thick with desire. “You’re… you’re gonna kill me.”

She pulled back just long enough to smirk up at him. “Not yet,” she murmured before diving back in, her movements becoming faster, more urgent.

His breathing grew ragged, his body tensing as he fought to hold on, but it was no use. With a strangled cry, he came, his release crashing over him like a tidal wave. Vivi stayed with him, swallowing every drop until he was completely spent.

When she finally released him, she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, her eyes sparkling with satisfaction. “That was just the beginning,” she said, standing up and pulling her tank top over her head in one fluid motion.

Y/n’s eyes widened as her breasts spilled free, perfect and perky and everything he’d ever dreamed of. She reached behind her back, unfastening her bra and letting it fall to the floor, leaving her completely bare from the waist up.

“Your turn,” she whispered, stepping closer and pressing herself against him.

His hands trembled as they settled on her hips, his thumbs brushing against the soft skin just above her waistband. She sighed, her head falling back as he leaned down to kiss her neck, his lips trailing along the delicate curve.

“Are you sure?” he asked between kisses, his voice rough with need.

She nodded, her hands tangling in his hair. “More than sure.”

With that, she pushed him back onto the bed, climbing on top of him and straddling his hips. Her shorts came next, discarded carelessly onto the floor, and then she was naked, her body glowing in the dim light of the room.

Y/n’s breath caught as he looked at her, taking in every inch of her perfect form. She was breathtaking, more beautiful than he’d ever imagined, and she was his—at least for tonight.

“I’ve waited so long for this,” she whispered, reaching down to guide him inside her.

The moment he entered her, their shared gasp filled the room, a symphony of pleasure and relief. Her walls clenched around him, hot and tight, and he groaned, his hands gripping her hips as she began to move.

Her pace was slow at first, deliberate, giving him time to adjust, but soon she picked up speed, her body rocking against his with increasing urgency. Her nails dug into his chest, her breaths coming in short, shallow gasps as she rode him.

“Look at me,” she demanded, her voice shaky but firm.

He obeyed, his eyes meeting hers, and in that moment, everything else faded away. There was no past, no future, only this—the two of them, tangled together in a way that felt both new and familiar.

Her movements grew more erratic, her moans louder, until finally, with a cry of his name, she came, her body shuddering as waves of pleasure washed over her. He followed moments later, his own release crashing over him as he buried himself deep inside her.

For a long moment, they stayed like that, panting and trembling, their bodies still connected. Then, with a sigh, she collapsed onto his chest, her ear pressed against his racing heart.

“I meant what I said,” she murmured, her fingers tracing idle patterns on his skin. “This doesn’t have to be a one-time thing.”

He opened his mouth to respond, but before he could say anything, she kissed him, her lips silencing his doubts and fears. And in that moment, he knew—he was completely, utterly hers.

Vivi’s lips lingered on his, the kiss deepening with an urgency that made Y/n’s head spin. Her hands slid down his chest, nails lightly scratching his skin as they moved lower, teasing him in a way that sent shivers through his body. His breath hitched, and he felt her smirk against his mouth before she pulled away just enough to whisper, “You’re so easy to read, Y/n. I can see how much you want me.”

His face flushed, but there was no denying it. Every inch of him screamed for her, the memory of their previous encounter still fresh in his mind. He reached out, tangling his fingers in her dark hair, pulling her back into another searing kiss. This time, he took control, nipping at her bottom lip until she gasped, her hands gripping his shoulders tightly.

“You’re mine,” she whispered between kisses, her voice low and possessive. The words sent a thrill through him, igniting something primal deep within. He didn’t argue—couldn’t argue. Not when she was looking at him like that, her eyes dark with desire and something else he couldn’t quite place.

Her hands slipped under the hem of his shirt, pushing it up and over his head before tossing it aside. She trailed her fingers down his chest, tracing the outline of his muscles before stopping just above the waistband of his boxers. “Do you know how long I’ve wanted this?” she murmured, her voice barely audible. “How many nights I’ve thought about you… touched myself thinking about you?”

The admission made his heart race, his cock twitching in response. Before he could process her words, she was stripping off her own clothes, revealing the curves he’d fantasized about for years. Her breasts spilled free from her bra, and he couldn’t help but groan at the sight, his hands trembling as he reached out to touch her.

She arched into his touch, a soft moan escaping her lips as his thumbs brushed over her peaked nipples. “Y/n…” she breathed, her hands sliding down to grip his wrists, guiding them lower. “Touch me everywhere.”

He obeyed without hesitation, exploring every inch of her that he’d only ever dreamed of. Her skin was impossibly soft, warm beneath his palms as he cupped her breasts, massaging them gently before moving lower. His fingers traced the curve of her hips, dipping into the sensitive dip of her waist, and finally settling between her thighs.

She let out a shaky breath when his fingers found her already slick folds, her hips bucking slightly as he began to stroke her. “Fuck…” she whimpered, her head falling back as pleasure coursed through her. “You have no idea how good that feels.”

But he did. Or at least, he thought he did. The way she trembled under his touch, the way her breath came in short, erratic gasps—it was intoxicating. And yet, it wasn’t enough. Not for either of them.

Without warning, she pushed him back onto the bed, straddling his hips with a predatory grin. “My turn,” she purred, her hands trailing down his chest until they reached his still-hard cock. She wrapped her fingers around him, stroking him slowly at first, then faster, more urgently. He groaned, his hips lifting off the bed as he thrust into her hand, desperate for more.

But she had other plans. Leaning down, she captured his lips in another fierce kiss, her tongue tangling with his as she positioned herself above him. “I want you inside me,” she whispered against his mouth, her voice trembling with need. “All of you.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. Gripping her hips, he guided her down onto him, both of them letting out muffled cries as he slid into her wet heat. She rocked against him, her movements slow and deliberate, drawing out every sensation until he thought he might combust.

“God, Vivi…” he choked out, his hands tightening on her hips as she began to move faster. Her inner walls clenched around him, milking him with every thrust, and he could feel himself losing control. But he held on, determined to make this last, to savor every second of being connected to her like this.

She leaned forward, bracing her hands on his chest as she rode him harder, her breaths coming in short, ragged gasps. “You feel so good,” she moaned, her nails digging into his skin. “So fucking good…”

Her words spurred him on, and he gripped her hips tighter, thrusting up into her with increasing force. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, mingling with their frantic moans and the creak of the bedsprings. It was raw, unbridled passion, the kind that left no room for thought or restraint.

When she came, it was with a cry of his name, her body shuddering as pleasure ripped through her. He followed moments later, his release crashing over him as he buried himself deep inside her, filling her completely.

For a long moment, they stayed like that, panting and trembling, their bodies still connected. Then, with a sigh, she collapsed onto his chest, her ear pressed against his racing heart.

“I love you,” he blurted out, the words slipping past his lips before he could stop them. For a moment, he panicked, fearing he’d ruined everything. But then she looked up at him, a soft smile playing on her lips.

“About time,” she teased, brushing a strand of hair from his face before leaning in to kiss him. It was gentle, tender, and full of promise.

[ardentmystacina]

"I'm not getting my hands dirty" is something that can take a thousand different forms.

And all of them are capable of hurting you instead of just making you aware of how you caused something to happen.

My context is absolutely a completely unrelated but 'doing nothing' is exactly as much of a decision as taking action.

And will destroy relationships with the people you know and love when they hold you accountable for just standing there and watching. They will take it extremely personally when they or someone they love suffers and you didn't even care enough to so much as give a kind word.

Because after my dad was in a near fatal car accident that had him put in an induced coma there were so many friends and family coming out of the woodwork to offer their words of support and a shoulder to cry on in the days and weeks afterwards.

But not his own fucking parents.

They couldn't be bothered picking up a phone to call their son's family after he nearly died.

"Oh, we couldn't get to a phone" was the only thing my dad's mother said six months later. Despite living with one of their other sons.

I never forgave either of them, and they're dead in the grave and I never will forgive them because as far as they knew their son had been dying in a hospital bed and they couldn't be bothered to pick up the fucking phone.

Inaction is a decision.

So.

Yeah,

Maybe they didn't put the expense of an international phone call on their son's phone bill, but they sure as hell destroyed multiple relationships by not making that call.

"I didn't perform an action that caused harm" may leave your hands clean but it sure doesn't leave you with a clean spirit. Or grandchildren who had any shred of affection for you left in their hearts.

The trolley problem: Here you are, at the scene of a disaster that someone set off long before you arrived. You could help, you could take action, but that would mean you also take on responsibility for the outcome.

Would you rather act to save people, knowing that by choosing who to help you are implicitly choosing who to let die? Or would you rather keep your hands clean by letting the disaster unfold on its own, regardless of how much worse it will be because you didn't act?

Half the people on this fucking site: the second, absolutely the second. How dare you ask me to compromise my shining moral purity for pointless complications like 'who's in charge of the government' or 'harm mitigation'.

[ireverie]

do you like it, dr. lee?

pairing ↠ jake, jay, jungwon x (f) professor!reader

genre .. warnings ↠ smut, noncon, gangbanging, student x professor, reader is early 30s, they’re all twisted but jay is mean asfk, mentions of infidelity, age gap (18+)

summary ↠ jake, jay, and jungwon are some of the brightest, most accomplished students in your class that never fail to make high marks on the exams. but when they approach you one day in your office, your perspective of them changes dramatically.

wc ↠ 5.4k

a/n ↠ originally posted on my blog revehae, i am not plagiarizing myself. part 2/3 of the in my blood series. as always, feedback is appreciated!

don’t like it, don’t read.

it all happened so fast.

one minute, you were chatting with three of your most wonderful students in your office, and the very next, they had you sprawled out on top of your desk.

your heart was speeding. though you attempted to wrestle your way out of their less than gentle embraces, you couldn’t even take one of them, let alone all three. while somebody was keeping your hands still, another was holding you by the legs.

jay, who had his palm flat over your mouth, only watching your moist, fearfully wide eyes, leaned into your ear and whispered, “scream and we’ll saw your tongue off.”

when he dropped his palm, you sucked in a breath, face tensing with tears as you willed yourself to be compliant. your head was spinning, dizzy with shock. what was happening to you was unfathomable. these boys were some of your favorite students, the ones who never failed to perform magnificently on the exams, and were sparkling in class.

you felt betrayed, in a way. even your worst-performing student wouldn’t stoop this low, and in the midst of your fright, you wondered what you had done to deserve the atrocity that was today. if there was anybody that you could count on to make you feel as if your dedication to this job wasn’t completely useless, it was these boys.

jake was standing just shy of you, eyes fixed to that knee-length skirt he loved watching you wear. jay chuckled when he noticed where his friend’s gaze had fallen, because he found himself glancing there too, but usually when you were facing away from your students.

he always thought about getting you naked, seeing your ass without anything to hinder his view. more often than not, jay fisted himself to the thought of stuffing your ass full of his thick cock, wondering if anybody had ever fucked you there.

snapping out of his imagination, jake approached you, shoving your long skirt closer to your hips. instinctively, the first thing you did was try to protect yourself, but jungwon grabbed you and ceased all control. you slumped, whimpering defeatedly, “boys, please stop. you know that i have a husband.”

jake snickered, amused that that was the card you chose to play. “didn’t really look like you cared about your husband when you were fucking my dad,” he retorted.

rather than beat even quicker, it felt as if your heart stilled. “what?”

jay laughed boisterously. “would you look at that. she thinks you don’t know.”

“that’s right, baby,” jake replied menacingly, nothing affectionate about his tone, in spite of the pet name. “you run your mouth and we’ll make sure the whole school knows that you can’t stop spreading your legs for my father.”

donning the sweetest tone, jungwon crooned in your ear, “and you wouldn’t want that, right, sweetheart? you wouldn’t want mr. lee to know that his wife isn’t satisfied with just his cock, is she now?”

it felt as if the whole world was crumbling beneath your feet. jake was sunghoon’s son, the offspring of the man you had been hooking up with behind your husband’s back, and now he and his friends were threatening to expose your affair if you refused to let them have their way with you.

your lips were trembling. this is all your fault, you chided to yourself. if you could’ve just been a faithful wife, a committed woman, none of this would be happening. they would have nothing against you, nothing that would stop you from reporting to the closest figure of authority. but you had too much at stake.

though you were no stranger to jay’s short patience, you had never seen it manifest quite like this before, gripping your hair so roughly you whimpered in a blend of pain and shock. he growled, “he asked you a question. i shouldn’t have to tell you that that called for an answer.”

“no,” you replied shakily.

jay’s grip only tightened and he pressed, “no, what?”

“no, i don’t want him to know…,” you trailed, because it was humiliating to repeat back aloud, but jay was still gazing at you expectantly. “that i’m not satisfied with just his cock.”

“see, that wasn’t so hard. don’t be a little bitch and make things more complicated than they have to be,” jay said, releasing his hold on your hair. you would’ve fallen back had not jungwon been there to catch you, only to then grab the little buttons on your blouse. “we’re doing you a favor, really. it’s a three for one deal. a little whore like you should be excited.”

but you didn’t want them, you didn’t even want your husband. you wanted sunghoon. it made you wonder how they knew of the affair, because jake seemed oblivious only a couple of weeks ago. he referred to you as some fucking nurse sunghoon had flirted with, not his molecular biology professor.

for fuck’s sake, you were a solid decade older than them. granted, sunghoon was at least a decade older than you, though there was a discernible difference between the age gap between the two of you and the gap between you and your undergraduate students. 

your button-up blouse finally came undone and jungwon didn’t waste a breath before he snatched off your bra, eager to suck your breasts into his mouth. you gasped out when he did, his tongue darting around your nipples. in the same way, jake yanked your panties off, cupping between your legs without a second thought.

never in your life had you felt more defenseless, powerless. stripped of all autonomy and forced to let other people have their wicked ways with you. you felt nothing short of violated and it made you sick to your stomach, gut tossing and churning with reproach.

through your stinging eyes, blurry with hot tears, you watched jake sink to his knees in front of your desk. you weren’t particularly enthusiastic about how exposed you were, your breasts out and your skirt bunched just above your thighs. it felt like the closest thing to walking around the plaza half-naked.

obviously, you felt more watched than you would’ve had it just been one of them, but you were at the mercy of three guys that were paying a godawful amount of attention to your bare figure. jungwon was fixed to your perky chest and jay was watching jake situate himself between your legs, holding them open for his friend in case you wanted to be defiant.

“jake, i don’t want this,” you whined, wiping your face with the back of your hand. 

“that’s too bad, baby.” jake wasn’t even looking at you, gaze locked on your pussy, like that was what you were reduced to. “don’t worry, it’ll feel good.”

you sucked in another gasp when his mouth angled towards your pussy without affording you a notice in advance, your body’s natural instinct being to shut your legs, but jay was still holding them in place and he was infinitely stronger than you. with the vigorous training that it took to be a member of the campus’ athletic teams, it came to you as no shock, but you were heavily disappointed.

jake’s tongue singled out your clit while he lapped at you, ravenous. the second he saw you on the first day of class, he knew that he had to have you. so when he found out that you were sleeping with his father, cheating on your husband with jake’s dad of all people, he became furious. 

neither you or sunghoon were as good at keeping secrets as you thought yourselves to be. on more than one occasion, jake saw you leaving their house. every now and then, he would see your name on his father’s phone. and it wasn’t fair. if anybody could please you, if anybody could bring you to heaven and back, it was the boy with his head buried between your legs.

as if matters couldn’t get any worse, jake actually seemed to know what he was doing. though you would never admit it to his face, the way he was sucking at your bundle of nerves had you throbbing, pulsing involuntarily around nothing. you whimpered and whined, but chewed on your bottom lip to stifle the noise.

jungwon chuckled so quietly it was barely audible, but said nothing as of right now, cupping your tits in his palms and squeezing. his patience was much less limited than jay’s, who was currently shifting out of his boxers, freeing his raging hard cock. you saw him in the corner of your misty eyes, noticing how rigid and thick his cock was, but said nothing.

what you didn’t expect, though probably should have seen coming, was for him to start jacking himself to the sight of you being mishandled. jake wasn’t the only one that couldn’t stop thinking about from the moment you locked eyes. matter of fact, that mutual pining was the common denominator of this little team.

all three of them were sick in the head, out of their minds obsessed with you. you would have expected some lethal kind of rivalry to develop out of that, but instead, they were much more menacing about it. they were helping each other get what they wanted.

you were a little overwhelmed from all the attention and jay wasn’t even touching you, but just knowing that he was stroking his cock for you was more than a little unnerving. jungwon’s hands were so strangely gentle, setting a pattern as he groped you, all the while jake was eating you out vigorously.

“pretty, pretty. so pretty when you cry,” jungwon sang in a way that could’ve been kind, if you ignored the nature of what was happening to you. then, like he knew your secret and was implying that he wouldn’t tell, he whispered for only your ears, “pretty when you lie, too.”

it wasn’t fair. you didn’t want to like this, just like how you didn’t want to be aroused. but when jake pushed a pair of fingers inside of your pussy you gushed and tightened around his digits. you were so unstill, it drove him mad, prompting him to go harder.

your brain was empty but racing all the while, thinking, this is so fucking wrong. you were fucking his father, for crying out loud, and even that was wrong. you didn’t care then, so according to their logic, it shouldn’t have made a difference now.

jake and jay’s grunts blended into one giant cacophony of sound, jake moaning with a mouthful of pussy because he couldn’t get enough of the way you tasted and your pussy was spasming around his digits, whereas jay was grunting because he thought you were most right now when you were deprived of all control.

blood was pumping quicker than ever through your veins, your heart screaming for survival. you weren’t even remotely in control of your own body anymore, seized not only by your three reckless students, but the pleasure burning through you like wildfire.

your office, that was typically admirably ventilated, seemed to hot to breathe in. but your breaths became quicker and shorter, as if there was no space in your lungs, and you started to feel the sweat cooling down your back, reminding you of how naked you were.

jake was so hard, stiffening in his pants the longer he watched you start to unravel, and he could’ve probably gotten off just from making you cum. you were grinding your hips against his mouth, and his long, slender fingers that were surely getting you there. you might not have wanted to confess the truth, but your body couldn’t lie.

“she’s so close,” jay commented with a chuckle, addressing you as if you weren’t even there. “fuck, i am too.”

a hole of negative emotions opened then and there and swallowed you whole, namely guilt and humiliation. you didn’t want jake to make you cum, you didn’t want to give them the satisfaction of bringing you pleasure, but that ship had already sailed. 

nonetheless, you parted your lips and begged in between shaky moans, “jake, stop. please, i’m begging you!”

“he’s not going to stop, sweetheart,” jungwon crooned, brushing a loose strand of your hair behind your ear. “don’t you see? he can’t get enough of your pretty pussy. you should feel so good about yourself.”

few things in life had ever made you feel this conflicted. on the one hand, this was degrading on way too many levels and you felt forcibly stripped of all of your dignity. but on the other, deep down inside, the sight of jake with his head between your thighs as he licked and sucked at your cunt was inexplicably arousing.

and that did it for you. you tried to fight it, you really did, but your orgasm completely blindsided you, taking you by the reins and going to town. your lips parted in a cry of jake’s name, your thighs trembling and heat striking through you like lightning as you gripped onto jungwon for dear life.

jake continued to go down on you after you orgasmed, just until you finished more or less riding his face, going limp against your desk with only jungwon to keep you upright. you couldn’t breathe, you couldn’t think. all the blood was rushing to your head and your heart was thumping in your ears.

jake finally pulled back, licking your arousal off of his lips and the corners of his mouth in a way that made your core throb emptily, then asked, “did you like it, dr. lee?”

your ears burned and you said nothing, because there was nothing that needed to be said. your answer was in the way your chest heaved like unstill waters, your fingers still holding onto jungwon’s shirt. like you thought you would collapse if you had nothing to anchor yourself.

jungwon took one glance at you and scoffed, “i think she loved it, man.”

there was something so smug in jake’s stare, like he just knew that he had you.

when jake moved, jay came between your spread legs, still holding his cock while he stroked himself to climax in front of you. like it would never be satisfied, your pussy continued to throb at the sounds you were indirectly plucking out of him, culminating in one deep, guttural growl when he came, shooting his load on your cunt.

though you were (thank god) on birth control, him orgasming there still made you feel iffy. you could feel it trickling down into your hole and hated how eager it seemed to be filled. for half a second, you were convinced that was the worst that could happen.

imagine your shock when jungwon abandoned your boobs, soft and supple as they were, and shifted between your thighs next. you didn’t know what to expect when you noticed him move, they enjoyed keeping you guessing, but it definitely wasn’t for jungwon to lick at your release-stained pussy.

you gasped, “jungwon!”

the sound of him sucking and licking at your clit was lewd, and there were long, damp lines being made with his flattened tongue. while you were appalled, the other watched in amusement how jungwon unabashedly more or less ate jay’s cum from your hole in a disturbing licking pattern. because where it was a nightmare for you, it was just one giant game to them.

to say nothing of the fact that you had only just orgasmed, sensitive. your thighs couldn’t handle the stimulation and you let out a breath of relief when his mouth separated from you, only for him to stand and force his lips against yours. you resisted, jolting away from him, but your attempts to evade him were in vain.

jungwon didn’t even need to grab your face to keep you still, because there was nowhere for you to hide. it was a disgusting, messy kiss, given that you were adamant on pushing him off. only so much of it was your fault though. jungwon liked it messy, liked how repulsed you were. he liked the grimace you were sporting and the blend of jay’s cum and saliva dribbling down your chin. the damp spots of his saliva on your cheek from your attempts to dodge him and where his tongue pressed against you instead.

it was nauseating to you. you could taste jay’s cum on your tongue, even though his cock hadn’t been anywhere near your mouth. and the the taste just wouldn’t go away.

jungwon, at last, pulled back, though only to laugh at the look on your face. “aw, don’t make that face. you liked it, right?”

you parted your lips to say deny him, but jungwon saw it coming and just kissed you again, not one to take no for an answer.

“okay, move your ass,” jake said after a minute of watching you squirm. you never realized how strong jungwon was.

jungwon frowned, but moved out of the way. not because jake told him to, but because he had something equally devious running through his brain.

you were baffled when you noticed jake returning between your thighs, because he should’ve already had his fill. then, you noticed that he had freed his cock from his boxers in the time jungwon spent sucking on your tongue, and swallowed the lump in your throat.

you let out a cry of shock when they spread you over your desk the long way, carelessly toppling over your belongings, and yanked your skirt off your body completely. you were utterly naked, and there was no bit of you they hadn’t seen.

jake positioned himself behind you, lining himself up at your entrance. there was so much terror in your body at the moment, scared not only for what was to come, but of liking it too.

“please,” you begged, trying to negotiate once more. “you boys should fool around with someone your own age.”

jake snickered, as if that was funny. he probably thinks it is. “maybe, but where’s the fun in that?”

your jaw slacked when his first thrust drew a pitched cry from the back of your throat. he wasn’t even half as patient as his father would be to sheathe himself completely. sunghoon would take his time, wallowing in your wetness just before slowly but steadily filling you, inch by fucking inch. jake, on the other hand, went straight for the kill.

but to your horror, you were soaked enough for him to slip right in smoothly, to say nothing of jay’s leftover cum facilitating the process. jake was girthy like sunghoon too, in spite of all of their stark differences, and you hated that it was so familiar how he was stretching you out.

“wait,” you whimpered, fingers clamping aggressively against the edges of your desk. “jake, please. you don’t need to do this.”

irritated, jay nudged jungwon, groaning, “will you shut her up already?”

“gladly,” jungwon chirped, a devilish little smile tugging at his lips.

you lifted your head up when you heard jungwon approaching the side of your desk that you were facing, watching him shuffle out of his pants and boxers, and you quickly started to flail. jake grabbed your neck, lowered his head, and hissed, “behave, or we’ll have to tell the class that their favorite professor is just a slutty little whore.” 

you stilled, remembering what was at stake. it wasn’t just your career, but sunghoon’s too. the second it got out that the two of you were involved in an affair, you knew you would both have to answer for your sins.

when jungwon finally got his underwear off, lengthy hard cock standing angrily against his stomach, he positioned himself beside your mouth and crooned, “say ‘ah.’”

“i don’t want to,” you whimpered.

jay crept over, evidently disgruntled, and there was a resounding smack when his palm landed flat against your cheek. “one more thing from you and your husband’s gonna get a nice surprise in his email,” he warned.

defeated, you silently opened your mouth, letting jungwon push himself to the back of your throat. he let out a pleasant little sigh, eyes fluttering closed, paying no attention to the tears dripping down your cheeks. your mouth was too warm for him to a give damn whether or not you wanted this, to care about what you were feeling.

all the while, jake’s hands were bruising your hips with the merciless grip he had of them. unlike you, his moans were unrestrained, never shy to reveal the ecstasy making his blood pump and his dick throb. you were so wet, so tight, everything he imagined tenfold. his father didn’t deserve you, not in his opinion. everything sunghoon could do, jake was certain that he could do better, even if you didn’t want to confess.

even if he was a lot less caring than his dad would present. you didn’t know sunghoon, not like you thought. the dark side jake had didn’t just come out of nowhere. though you would never realize, there was a clear reason why jake was so sick in the head, especially when it came to you. why he took great delight in forcing you over your desk, stuffing you full of his cock and listening to you cry, struggling to hide that you loved his cock.

“he doesn’t love you, you know,” jake said none too gently, snickering from between your legs. “i hope you realize you’re just another easy whore. not the first, not the last.”

there was so much going on that you were hoping you could somehow detach yourself from the brutal reality. not only was your body overloaded, but your mind and soul, ripping a hole right through all that you thought to be true.

it was all too fucking much. “your mouth feels so good,” jungwon exhaled, a hand tangled through your hair.

“you should feel her pussy. she’s so fucking wet, dude. and she thinks we’re going to buy that she’s not begging for this,” jake replied, completely degrading. 

jungwon chuckled breathlessly. you were sucking it out of him, against your will or not. “yeah, i can hear how wet she is.”

jay said nothing, but you were already too overwhelmed to notice his absence in the conversation. he was engrossed in thought, waiting with staggering patience for his own turn. which wasn’t typical for him at all. he swore, when he was done with you, you weren’t even going to think for weeks. 

between jake’s twisted smack of his hips against yours and the way jungwon was unabashedly using your mouth to get off, you couldn’t decide which was more brutal. torture was torture, but if it was meant to be so bad, there shouldn’t have been moans slipping from your mouth uncontrollably. there shouldn’t have been a familar weight sitting in the pit of your stomach, waiting to wreck you.

“i know you love this,” jake said, maybe project just a little, but the body didn’t lie and he could feel you tightening. “i know you love this fucking dick. wish i could hear you say it, baby.”

“that can be arranged,” jungwon quipped, but it took you by surprise when he actually pulled his cock from your mouth. “c’mon, angel. tell jake how much you love his dick.”

your face flushed with humiliation, but you knew what would happen if you failed to comply. “i...,” you started, hesitant. “i love your dick, jake.”

jake smacked your ass, making you stifle a scream. “again.”

you cried out, “i love your dick!”

“i know,” jake said, sickeningly confident in himself. “i also know that you’re about to cum.”

it was maddening that your husband of ages could hardly even get you off these days but some students in your class were recognizing the signs in record time. you were also ashamed with yourself for being so aroused, for needing to orgasm this badly, but you forfeited control of yourself moments ago.

jungwon had enough and once his dick started to twitch desperately, he shoved his cock back into your mouth, chasing relief for the raging hard-on you’d given him. rather than you sucking him off, it was more of him relentlessly fucking your throat, not stopping when you gagged.

and it wasn’t long before the three of you ultimately came, like a chain of dominoes collapsing after each other. this orgasm was just as powerful as the one that came before, the room reeling as your screams were muffled against jungwon’s stiff cock. your whole body was a thousand degrees hotter. jungwon’s warm cum releasing in your mouth while jake’s seeped deeply into your pussy.

although you tried to swallow jungwon’s cum, per his request, some of it dripped onto the floor. you were terrified of leaving evidence of this encounter, wishing you would’ve gulped it all back, but then you felt jake’s cum leaking out of you and your priorities shifted.

“my turn,” jay said, though that was a given. you were confused when he started to spread jake’s cum over your asshole, though for the longest you could feel his stare burning through your backside.

baffled, and maybe somewhat startled, you asked, “jay, what are you doing?”

“shut the fuck up,” jay snapped belligerently, smacking his palm harshly against your cunt. you cried out in pain, unexpecting. “i’m tired of hearing your voice. just take it.”

but nothing could have prepared you for what was to come. nothing could have prepared you for the merciless way he penetrated your ass, effectively knocking the wind out of you. you felt like you couldn’t breathe, as if all the air in the sky was stolen and hid in this little box somewhere.

you wanted to scream, you wanted to beg for forgiveness for whatever you had done, but no sound would come from your mouth. there was only instant tears, your hands gripped the rim of your desk for purchase. the makeup you were wearing was ruined ages ago, but it had to have looked despicable now, because you were sobbing harder than ever.

“poor thing.” jungwon frowned, pretending to be compassionate. that was something he was good at, you realized. he had you fooled until you saw how recklessly he fucked your throat, and you came to accept they were all too alike.

“she’ll be, fuck, fine,” jay groaned, careless. he was the roughest of the bunch, the most antagonistic. “this hole is so fucking tight.”

jay was pressing you against the desk harder than jake had, roughly mishandling you. it was obvious that jay didn’t see you as his equal. when it came to you, all he gave a damn about was passing your class and fucking your ass.

never in your life had anyone ever fucked you there before, and the thought hadn’t even crossed your mind. you were so repulsed, choking on your own feelings as they killed you slowly. the pain was unbearable, making it impossible to remain still, but that didn’t matter when jay had you borderline flattened.

it was almost awe-inducing how he held you down with ease, regardless of how strong you thought you were and how violently you were reacting. it was the closest thing to being split open. pitiful little noises escaped you, but you bit them back, because the last thing you wanted was to get caught. somehow, though, the shock was more agonizing than the pain itself.

your agonized whimpers and jay’s husky grunts made an awkward cacophony. if there was any of them that got off to your helplessness, you knew it was all of them, but jay had to wallow in it more than either of them.

jake and jungwon were stroking their cocks to the sight of you being ravaged to the point of total destruction. there were plenty of times in your life where you felt nothing short of broken, but this was a different variant, a kind from which you knew that you would never recover.

jay couldn’t believe his thick cock was even fitting into your tight, flexing asshole, though then again, whatever you thought you couldn’t take, jay would make you do. your body was for his own personal amusement. he leveraged himself deeper and deeper, groaning and laughing, using you to his advantage. because what jay wanted, he always got. every time without fail. obviously, you were no exception to this pattern, even if it was to your own dismay.

your lip was bleeding from how frequently you were biting. all you wanted was to protect your reputation. you had things to lose, things you knew jay would steal away from you in a heartbeat, because all he did was take.

“she’s such a damn whore, fuck. she should be grateful i’m fucking her,” jay hissed, aggressive.

given how much you had heard adjacent statements in the past hour, you were starting to believe them, no matter how disparaging they were. you were accepting the cold truth, that this was your punishment for being unfaithful.

quickening his pace, jay continued, “i’ve never wanted to fuck that nasty little pussy of hers. not when everybody’s been inside of it. but i can tell she’s never had this ass stretched before.”

his words were hurting more than his cruel movements, and you didn’t understand the science behind that. you whined, “jay.” please, have mercy, was what you wanted to say, but you knew there was no point.

jay squeezed your neck, cutting off your ability to inhale, and you felt every nerve in your body start to panic. “for the umpteenth time, shut the fuck up. no one’s fucking talking to you, bitch.”

you quieted, face tensing with delirious pain. 

“pathetic if you ask me,” jake added, breath shaky. “her husband’s dick isn’t good enough for her, so she fucks my dad, and now that we give her three more, she still has the audacity to complain.”

jungwon snorted. “textbook cockslut.”

you wanted to speak, you were desperate to defend your honor and identity, but you had already said enough and you were lucky that they hadn’t already decided to expose you to the whole planet. you had no defenses against them, nothing in your arsenal. 

“begging us to stop, but she won’t stop fucking cumming. needy little bitch,” jay chided, though judging from his breathlessness, he was far from disgruntled.

jungwon chortled, his cock still close to your face, and it was making you mildly uncomfortable. “maybe we should send her back to the husband with some tips.”

“oh, i’ve got one,” jake said, beaming with his usual mischief. “hold her down and use her little holes until you’re done.”

“yeah, looks like she loves that,” jungwon retorted. 

jay quipped, “we should’ve recorded. maybe showed him a tutorial.”

jake blew out a contented sigh. “well, there’s always next time.”

your heart was taut with fear at the thought of there being a next time, but the three of your students were grinning with excitement, as if they wholly anticipated reliving this moment in the not so distant future.

“fuck, i’m gonna cum,” jay grunted, wanting to go even deeper, but there was nowhere for him to move. 

jake hummed, reminiscing over how good it felt to cum inside of your throbbing pussy. how you milked the cum out of him, bled him dry. “shame she’s on birth control. i overheard her and my dad talking,” he replied, nonchalant. “imagine if we got her pregnant.”

“man, don’t talk like that,” jay groaned. 

jake glanced to jungwon, both of them snickering amongst each other. “dude, i was just kidding. don’t tell me that’s actually getting your dick hard.”

“fuck, i’m gonna…”

the most delicious growl came from the tip of jay’s tongue when he released inside of your asshole, his brows scrunching together with pleasure. his hips finally grinded to a halt when he met his climax, dumping way too much of his load inside. you could feel his fingertips leaving marks that would indefinitely stain your skin, and you dreaded having to explain them to your husband.

when jay finally pulled away from you, having had his fill for now, your body went limp against your desk. you could have moved, but you were too exhausted. sweat cooled down your back, chilling you to shudders, but there wasn’t a single thought in your head. all you could do was lie there, used and exploited, hoping that life would return to the way you knew it before they broke you.

because right now, it was bland. the only thing you could feel was the soreness in your legs and the cum dripping from your hole, numbing yourself to everything else.

there was so patronizing about the way jay turned to you, asking with the slyest grin on his face, “did you like it, dr. lee?”

TAGLIST: @ribbioniki, @yunakj, @vvenusoncasual, @lovingvoidgoatee , @iloveu-143, @bigwforjay, @hooniehon, @adoredbyjay, @cloud-lyy, @firstclassjaylee, @captainsaposts, @tinycatharsis

[multific]

Healing the Emperor's Heart

Emperor Caracalla x Reader

Summary: You were to care for him. Instead, you loved him.

From the first day, you were assigned to care for Caracalla.

When you met him, his appearance startled you. 

He appeared worn and weak, a shadow of the man others whispered about in the palace corridors. 

Your role was more than that of a servant. You were trusted to tend to his every need and ensure his comfort.

Your days became routines entwined with his. Each morning, you prepared herbal remedies and charmed him into eating. 

At first, Caracalla resisted your efforts, his pride bruised by your efforts. He barely acknowledged your presence. Because if he ignored you, you would go away.

But you didn't. Instead, you stayed.

Slowly, he began to change. His eyes lingered on you longer, his tone softened when he called your name, and his occasional questions about you became sincere and kind.

One quiet evening, he decided to speak up.

“Why do you bother with me?” His voice was low.

“Because I was tasked by your brother.”

“Many would refuse such a task."

"Not me, Emperor Caracalla. I believe everyone has some good in them."

“You’re either brave or a fool.” For a moment, his expression faltered, a flicker of vulnerability shining through. 

“Perhaps both, My Emperor” You offered a faint smile with an aching heart. "Please, drink your tea." you handed him the cup which he took.

It was the first time you gave him the medicine.

After that, you gave it to him daily. A little into his daily tea which was prepared by you, so he never failed to drink it.

The medicine gradually began to take effect. 

Day by day, Caracalla’s strength grew, and his eyes got clearer and clearer. 

The haze clouding his mind slowly lifted, and his thoughts sharpened. 

The transformation was impossible to ignore, and soon enough, his brother, Geta, took notice.

It was after a rather quiet afternoon that you were summoned to Emperor Geta’s chamber. 

You felt uneasy as he looked you up and down. 

“What have you given him?” he demanded, his voice cold and sharp.

“Tea to ease his suffering, nothing more, Your Majesty.” You chose your words carefully. 

“Do not take me for a fool. My brother’s sudden recovery defies explanation. What are you hiding?” His tone grew more vicious.

"I meant no harm. And he is a lot better." you tried defending yourself.

Geta punched his chair as his anger grew.

"I'm not going to ask any more, what did you give him?"

Before you could respond, the door swung open, and Caracalla stormed in. 

“Leave them, Brother” Caracalla ordered, his voice firm.

“You trust them so completely, yet you fail to see how—”

“Enough,” Caracalla interrupted. “You will not question their loyalty. They have done more for me than the doctors ever have.”

Geta’s lips pressed into a thin line.

"I'm not angry because you helped him, I only wish to know how you did it when all doctors said we should give up." Geta's tone softened.

"Tea, My Lord I can assure you. Tea my grandmother taught me how to make." you replied.

Geta simply nodded before he left, closing the door behind himself.

Caracalla stepped closer, his expression was soft as his eyes met yours.

“You shouldn’t have come,” you murmured, your voice tinged with worry. “I could handle him.”

“I won’t stand by while my brother questions someone so important to me.”

Your breath caught, his words catching you off guard. “Important?” you echoed softly.

He reached for your hand, his touch warm and steady. “You’ve given me more than my health. You’ve given me hope. A second chance in life.”

“Caracalla…” you began, but he silenced you with a gentle look.

“There’s something I must say,” he continued, his voice low. “You’ve brought light to my life. You healed my illness and my heart. I wish to marry you.”

“Will you marry me?” Your heart raced as he knelt before you, his gaze filled with sincerity. An Emperor kneeling in front of a simple servant.

Tears blurred your vision as words failed you in the moment. 

"I would be a fool to say no to you. But I'm simply a servant. I am no Empress."

"Of course you are." He rose, pulling you close, and his lips met yours in a kiss that was tender yet full of promise. "You are my Empress."

In that moment, nothing else mattered.

Gladiator II Collection

Taglist: 

@castellandiangelo @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou

@mandoloriancookie @deliciousfestsalad @lilliumrorum @asgards-princess-of-mischief  

@fallout-girl219 @dracaryxzs @snowtargaryen @brevlada24

@mel-vaz @akamitrani @ange-olras @nicholaschavezslut69

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE, TO STEAL OR TO REPOST ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

women in male fields

fratboy!jaehyun x reader

summary: you’re fully aware you’re dating a reformed fuckboy/fratiest fratboy to exist but that doesn’t mean he can get away with acting like a douche without a taste of his own medicine… OR the 3 times sweetheart finds herself acting like a fuckboy and the 1 time Jaehyun calls her out

word count: 3.5k

warnings: swearing, fuckboy behavior, mentions of alcohol, Americanized college described (l'm American), pet names (sweetie, sweets, sweeteart, sweet girl) in order to avoid using y/n, Imk if I missed anything!

a/n: there was something completely magical in my Chili’s triple dipper because I sat down and pounded this out for 4 hours with minimal breaks! I’d had this idea for a while but figured I’d get it out before everyone forgot about the #womeninmalefields TikTok trend. Feedback is appreciated!

Timeline-wise let’s say this is about 4-6 months into Jae and Sweetheart being a couple

This story is a part of my fratboy!Jaehyun universe!

dividers from cafekitsune

You weren’t stupid. You knew what you were getting into when you started dating Jung Jaehyun, one of the most fratboy fratboys to ever exist. You had been around for the parties, for the handful of nights where he overdid it and got sick, countless nights of standing by to watch him play beer pong, no dates on Sunday evenings because of frat meetings, and a couple philanthropic events. You were used to a lot of it by now. 

But your boyfriend had adapted himself so well to this role that you honestly kind of hated some of his behaviors. He had changed some habits, of course. He was no longer the fuckboy fratboy that slept around, no, he was committed to you and you alone. He made some effort into being romantic which took some work since his idea of romance was sending you a daily Snapchat for your streak with a red heart. Gross. Now, he got you flowers occasionally and your favorite snacks. His room used to be an absolute pigsty and now he at the very least he shoved his mess under the bed so you didn’t see.

Then there were some habits that didn’t change and you were tired of them. Beyond tired of them. You were tired of him passively listening, barely paying attention to you, being kind of an asshole, and just being a gross guy. So you decided to give him a taste of his own medicine. If he could do all these things and you could still like him, why wouldn't he still like you?

It had started when you texted Jaehyun on a Thursday afternoon and he didn’t respond until Saturday afternoon. It had been nothing urgent, but you were still annoyed. It wasn’t the first time he’d done this. In fact, it was a horrible habit of his. He started a conversation or read a text you sent and just never responded. You knew now, based on experience and the other guys telling you, that Jaehyun sucked at texting. He would still post on Instagram or Snapchat, posting various athletes like they were his friends and promoting frat activities like normal. It was almost like he forgot that the primary function of a phone was to communicate. Good thing he was pretty!

It didn’t make it any less annoying that your boyfriend didn't care to change this habit for you though, so when he finally texted you back, you decided to give him the same treatment. Saturday came to an end and you didn’t text back. Sunday was the same and so was Monday. He texted you countless times, so many questions, random updates on his day, and asking you if you were ok or if he should send help to your dorm. So when you knocked on the door Tuesday afternoon scrolling on your phone when Jaehyun opened the door. It was pretty safe to say he was pretty confused.

“Where have you been? You didn’t answer any of my texts,” Jaehyun asked while he led the two of you upstairs.

You hummed noncommittally, your eyes not leaving the screen of your phone, “oh yeah, my phone broke. My bad.”

Jaehyun opened his mouth to argue, ready to tell you that he had seen you posting on your stories, your phone didn’t look new, and he had heard you on FaceTime with Haechan just yesterday. That you were literally scrolling through Instagram when he opened the door, but he didn’t say anything. He just pulled you into his arms, and pulled up the most recent episode of one of your shows. 

He couldn’t really complain if you were here with him now, right? You were in his bed, in his arms, laying on his chest. Everything was fine. A few days of no contact was normal and you both had a good enough relationship where it shouldn’t bother him, right? But it did…

The next time Jaehyun pissed you off was just a week later. He had proven to be a little extra clingy after his punishment of silence and that was good enough for you. It had been enough to hold you off with some of his, less than perfect behavior, until the next time he messed up. Sure, enough it was just 7 days later when he acted stupid again. And it was time for him to learn again. Sometimes he just had to learn to not do something by doing it and learning the consequences. Like a child… or a pet.

Jaehyun had had a stressful week. You knew that, he had told you about it the last time you saw him just yesterday, so you did feel kinda bad for deciding to pull this out of your sleeve now. How was he going to learn if you never tried to fix it though?

Jaehyun was pacing around his room, running a hand down his face and staring at the email that basically told him nothing from their partner sorority. He was social chair, so he was in charge of planning mixers. That’s exactly what he was trying to do! But the Kappa social chair was either knowingly being a pain in the ass or just naturally was a pain in the ass. How was it useful for Jaehyun to know when a handful of sisters all had an astronomy class?! Why did that matter when he was asking her to choose from a handful of dates he’d already chosen?!

Not only was this sorority social chair being annoying, Taeyong had been on his ass to plan some kind of sponsored philanthropic event, but everyone Nu Chi had worked with previously was being so difficult! No one was returning a single one of his emails, he spent his afternoons on hold or making calls, and just getting in contact with new companies and vendors just took so much effort. He currently had one sponsor, which was fine, whatever. But nothing Nu Chi Theta did while Jaehyun was social chair was ever just fine. Fine was acceptable for Alpha Sig’s but not for Nu Chi’s. He would need at least two more sponsors to reach the level of finery he was used to working with.

So that’s what Jaehyun was texting you about, his fingers tapping across the small screen of his phone while he put all his ranting and raving into words and sent off the text with a sigh of relief. You would talk him down, get him through his stress, and give him some advice for his problems. Then he’d feel like a new man, ready to tackle his problems with a clear head just like you always did for him. Just the thought of your advice had him smiling down at his phone while he added ‘sorry, about that. had to vent. how was your day sweets?’ and sent it your way.

On your end, you read through the long text ready to reply and give him some advice and offer your own help, but then you remembered… You remembered how just a few days ago you were venting to him about a small argument you and Ari, your roommate, had gotten into, and he showed no signs of actually listening. You went to him for a reason! He had at least 10 roommates, he never had complaints about any of them, so it wasn’t like you were talking just to talk! You wanted your boyfriend to give you some advice like you always gave him, but all you got was a “damn... Wanna order me some wings?” You had to physically keep jaw from dropping. God, he could be such a fucking guy sometimes! It was like talking to a fucking wall! Albeit a very good looking, handsome wall, but a wall nonetheless.

It was time for him to get yet another taste of his own medicine. Instead of taking the time to offer your advice or offer your help, you smirked, staring at your screen as you typed out, ‘that sucks’. Next text, ‘My day was chill, kinda hungry … send me door dash?’

On his end, Jaehyun stared at the screen with blatant confusion, watching as the minutes ticked by while he waited for some long paragraph with solutions and encouragement to be sent his way. After five minutes nothing came. The same after 10. No change after 20 and then he sets his phone aside feeling grumpy and pissy. Why wasn’t his girlfriend helping him? Did you even read his message?

And he couldn’t exactly call you out on it because it wasn’t an issue between the both of you. They were problems he had before you guys were together sure, but he liked having you to lean on now. He sighed tiredly, resting his chin atop his folded arms with a pout while staring at his dark screen and willing you to text him back again so all his issues would be just one step closer to being fixed.

His heart skipped a beat when the screen lit up and he saw the familiar combination of emojis used for your contact. He reached for his phone eagerly, feeling his heart soar at the anticipated text where you would help him solve his issues. But his face fell into a frown and he groaned out loudly at the words on his screen: ‘is my food on its way yet?’

The last reciprocation of his fuckboy energy was probably the worst. You honestly don’t know how you let Jaehyun get away with it practically unscathed, but karma was coming around now and she wasn’t merciful. It was your pièce de résistance, the cherry on top of your fuckboy sundae, your magnum opus, your masterpiece. 

To give Jaehyun some credit, it had been a while since he had dated a woman for a long period of time, or really, dated any woman at all. Maybe he had forgotten some very basic decorum and manners as far as ways to act and things to say or not say. Just yesterday you had been complaining about your professor being very vague in the instructions for your assignment, and even more vague when you emailed him to ask for clarity. “Like the instructions make it sound so simple, but it can’t be that simple if this project accounts for 30% of our grade! Like hello, is it hard to reply to an email with words that actually fucking mean something?” You groaned, running your fingers through your hair while you texted your project group chat what your professor had replied.

Jaehyun chuckled, running a calming hand down your back, focusing his relaxing touch on your lower back as his fingers kneaded at your muscles, “chill out sweetheart, I think you’re making this a bigger deal than it actually is.”

You sent him an unamused look from the corner of your eye, “chill out? Jae, I just said this project accounts for a third of my grade. I can’t be chill about this.”

He pressed a kiss to your cheek, then your neck, then your shoulder, “are you… you know?”

Your fingers froze over your keyboard, waiting for his next words, giving him a chance to backtrack. He stayed silent and waited patiently. You exhaled, speaking in a voice that was all too eerily calm, “Am I what, Jaehyun?”

“Are you on your period? You just seem extra worked up about something kind of pointless.” He replied casually, his fingers continuing to work at your lower back. The exact area you had once confessed hurt you so bad you could barely stand in the first couple days of your period. This- somewhat thoughtful- little shit!

You smacked his hands away while you closed your laptop and gathered your things in a hurry, mumbling, “you’re such an asshole sometimes.”

Jaehyun stared at you in shock, an asshole? He was being an asshole for caring about his girlfriend’s well-being? “Sweetheart, it’s just that you seem to be making a bigger deal out of this than it actually is,” he tried to explain.

You held a hand up, silencing him, ”every time you open your mouth, you dig yourself into a deeper hole. No, I’m not on my period. Yes, it is a big deal and yes, I’m actually leaving. Good night and goodbye.”

This very conversation had been playing on repeat in your mind while Jaehyun vented to you about Johnny being up his ass about new recruits being low as he paced around his room. “I mean, it shouldn’t be solely on my shoulders if recruits are low. There are plenty of brothers who don’t have as many responsibilities as I do. Like, I barely figured out the whole sponsored mess with Taeyong and now Johnny decided to stick his foot up my ass too. Can I get a fucking break or something?!” He ranted passionately.

You stared at him blankly from your seated position on his bed, forcing your smirk to stay hidden. “Is it… you know?” You began to ask.

“Is it stressful? Hell yeah it is, I mean shouldn't we have any and all brothers taking turns trying to recruit. I mean that’s why I take my time to throw mixers, parties, and sponsored events that kick ass so that people want to join,” Jaehyun replied with a tired sigh.

“No,” you laughed softly, “is it like your time of the month? You seem to be making a big deal out of nothing?”

When Jaehyun turned to you with his eyes wide in astonishment, he expected to see you laughing it off playfully. He expected for you to confess that you were just kidding and kiss him sweetly. But you cocked your head to the side and raised a brow as if to ask, ‘what’s the problem?’

After that, Jaehyun was quick to rise to his feet, pinning you with a heated stare. “What the hell has been up with you? You've been acting… grimy for like the last month.”

You laughed in astonishment, “I’ve been acting grimy? Huh, then imagine how I feel on a regular basis!”

“You?! Sweets, you’ve been acting like a douche! Like when you didn’t respond to me for days even though you were posting like normal and you lied about your phone being broken! Like, hello! You were on Instagram right in front of my face with the same crack on your screen since I’ve known you!”

You raised a brow, holding back an amused smirk, “that’s all? I don’t reply for a couple days and now I’m a douche? Babe, you’re being like really emotional right now, calm down.”

“And that too!” Jaehyun exclaimed, pointing an accusatory finger at you, “why are you asking me if it’s my time of the month when I’m talking about something that’s bothering me? I want you to support me. You did the same thing when I texted you looking for advice when I was handling the whole mixers and sponsors thing.”

You shrugged nonchalantly, “well, I don’t know what you want me to say right now.”

Jaehyun raised his brows and shook his head as if he couldn’t believe what the hell he was hearing. Was he in some kind of alternate universe? Had aliens come down and planted worms in your brain? What happened to his sweet girlfriend?! “Well, an apology would be really nice,” he replies while cocking his head at you.

“And have you ever apologized to me for any of that same behavior?” You ask in a calm voice.

“Wha- me apologize?! This isn’t about me! It’s about you!”

“Oh, so it’s only a problem when I act like this and not you? Got it.”

“When?! When have I acted like you?” Jaehyun asks in exasperation, eyes wide with shocked confusion.

“Hmmm. Let me think!” You exclaim before dramatically placing the tip of your finger on your chin, “just like everyday we’ve been together, you dummy!”

“Give me examples. I can’t believe this.”

“Alright, how about how I’ve had to train you like some kind of pet to learn some very basic texting etiquette? I let you get away with being a shitty texter for months and the one time I do it, you go crazy. I got used to not getting a response from you after days on end and I act like you did one time and you almost call campus security to my dorm to see if I’m alive,” you state, counting out a single finger. 

With the next finger, “I come to you for advice regarding my single roommate considering you have like a hundred of them, and what do you do? You say, damn, buy me wings? Who the fuck does that?! So it didn’t feel very good when I did it to you, huh? Did you like looking for advice only to be hit with some bullshit response and then asked for food? Which I never got by the way!”

Third finger, “And just now. Oh no, did you not like being told your issue meant nothing? Awww, mmmm, are you sad?” You pull your face into a very sarcastic sad face, “now imagine how I feel when you asked me if I was on my fucking period?! Like, have you never been around someone with a vagina? Even Mark and Haechan who barely pull know better than to ask some shit like that! And these are just three of your douchebag behaviors! Shall I continue, Mr. so called I’m-perfect-and-can-never-make-mistakes-because-that-would-be-impossible!”

Jaehyun stood speechless. Was he really that bad? Well, clearly he was. He had to admit he didn’t think he was this bad. He had been really good about adapting to his new role as a boyfriend and thought everything else that came his way was just going to be easy to handle. Apparently, he hadn’t handled it all the right way.

“I didn’t realize I was this bad, I’m sorry. Wow,” Jaehyun sighed, sitting on the bed with his folded over his mouth, “sweetheart, I’m really sorry.”

But that was another way Jaehyun had adapted. He didn’t start arguments while being hard headed, he listened when the issue was serious, he accepted wrong doing, and made changes. 

You crawled across his bed, sitting beside him and laying your head on his shoulder, “I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have been petty. I should have told you these things bothered me in the moment instead of using them against you… but it was kinda fun.”

Jaehyun rested his head atop yours and chuckled softly, “I think I’m really glad you’re not one of the frat guys because we’d always have girls in here yelling about you gaslighting them. How did you handle me doing this for so long?”

“It helps that you listen when it matters. You’re sweet, you can be romantic, you care about me, you make an effort for me, I can tell you’re trying to be better for me even if it doesn’t all come easily for me,” you explain in a calm voice, “and you’re hot as hell, the abs don’t stop, and you keep that body nice and tight for mama, don't you baby boy?”

Your cackle rings out across his room while he jumps away from you with flushed cheeks. “Don’t… don’t talk like that. It’s totally freaking me out!”

“Come on, babe,” you tease while deepening your voice playfully, “bring me that ass.” 

You manage to grab him while he tries, and fails, to jump away. You playfully knead his (lack of) ass while grinning up at him. You pucker your lips, to which Jaehyun playfully rolls his eyes before kissing you sweetly. “I’m so glad you’re a girl because you would be an absolute terror as a guy,” he states while shaking his head and cupping your cheeks.

“I think I should rush, baby,” you respond playfully, “you could be my big, dude! Come on, bro!”

“Enough of this!” Jaehyun jokingly hisses, “I want my sweet girl back.”

“Fine,” you drawl out with pout, “let this be your lesson though, Jae. When you go low, I can go lower. And I will go lower.”

“Trust me, I’ve learned. I’ll be better at texting, I’ll be an active listener, I’ll give you advice when you need it, and I’ll never ask you if you’re on your period again,” Jaehyun nods.

“See, you’re such a great learner. Let’s go get you a treat, baby,” you smile sweetly, pressing a kiss to his cheek before taking his hand and leading him down the stairs toward the kitchen.

“I don’t know how I feel about you talking to me like I’m a dog…”

You smile at him, “you like it.”

Jaehyun raises a brow, “do I?”

You hum, grabbing the ice cream from the freezer, “yup, you have a praise kink.”

Well, if you say so…

[daniiiboo]

PLEASEEE write smth abt napping with luke

i actually cannot get the thought out of my head i just need domestic fluffiness with luke RIGHT NEOWWW 😣😣

an afternoon nap - lh43

summary - you get back from shopping and luke convinces you to take a nap

dani's thoughts - MY FIRST REQUEST!!!! I love this and I hope I get more requests soon <3

warnings - nu uh nothin

word count - 426

Luke's apartment was illuminated by the soft golden rays that streamed through the curtains, streaming down from the couch. Visiting after a long day of running the shops left you completely exhausted. Despite being such a caring boyfriend, Luke immediately requested you to take a break. 

"You have been running around all day. Just sit on the couch and let’s chill." he said to you.

You didn't need much convincing. The couch was too warm for comfort, and Luke's hooded appearance and sweaty clothing made him stand out.

You leaned over the soft cushions and said,

"Are you not tired?". 

With a grimace, he smiled.

"I could use snooze too.". 

As soon as you caught sight of it, Luke was draped with a blanket from the backside of the couch and snuggled up next to both of them. His height made it difficult for him to sit still, but he didn't seem to care. 

With a soft voice, you whispered, "You're warm.". 

He taunted, "You're frigid," waging his arm around your neck and pulling you in. 

His breathing was so soothing that it quickly brought you to a state of calmness. His hand exhibited absent-minded patterns on your arm, the kind of small, loving touches that made you feel like you were in control. 

His voice was soft and squeaky, as though he was feeling easily uncomfortable. 

"Ah, no," you muttered with your eyes wide open. "Don't go off before me, though.". 

He laughed, "No guarantees," and leaned down to kiss you on the temple. 

All else except for the air conditioner's gentle hum and Luke's heart beating steadily beneath your hearing, disappeared from the room. The sound of his chest rising and falling, you and his breathing blending together like the sound from above, leaving the world outside. 

Upon awakening, you were uncertain about the time it had been, but the sun had faded and covered the room with amber and orange hues. Luke was still sleeping, his head pressed against your body and his arm tightly gripped the waist.?... 

Brushing a strand of hair from his face while smiling to yourself. The man muttered briefly but didn't emerge, his lips flicking open and he smiled slightly, as if a sight to behold. 

For a brief moment, you simply enjoyed the peacefulness and stillity of it all. He felt like the world had come to an end in his arms, and everything seemed so effortless. 

You couldn't help but feel like there was nowhere else to be when his grip became more pronounced and tightened.

[antinousletmehit]

˚₊‧꒰ა Chapter 12 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

୨୧┇Telemachus x reader

୨୧┇warning: Telemachus is lowkey hormonal in this

────୨ৎ──── ────୨ৎ──── ───

Y/n was up against the wall. Her lips moving quickly and hungrily against Telemachus’s. Her delicate hands moving up and down his back, pulling him closer and closer. One of his hands was next to her head, the other gently grasped the back of her head.

“Y/n...” Telemacus breathed, his lips not leaving her skin and moving down her jawline to her neck. He heard her-

Telemachus resisted the urge to violently scream and bang his head against the wall. The boy bent down, opening the trapdoor to the tunnel leading to his mother’s room. His thoughts of Y/n only worsened. No matter where he went, she continued to consume his every waking thought. Even while he was about to visit his mother, he was thinking of extremely inappropriate things he should not be thinking of.

Telemachus crawled through the tunnel, cursing himself along the way. He tried to clear any unholy thought from his head and calmly talked to his mother about his day. Ask her about her weaving and discuss how beautiful the weather had been today. And talk about how he wanted to kiss and adore every inch of-

This is bad.

Telemachus gets to the end of the passageway. He takes a deep breath preparing himself fully for the conversation ahead. He unlatched the trapdoor, and crawled through, wiping off his tunic as he stood. He glanced up and saw his mother straightening up her bed, before she saw her son standing there.

“Hello Telemachus,” Penelope sweetly smiled, “Have you had a good day?”

Telemachus held himself back from saying, “It was more than good.” Instead he responded, “Yeah..yeah..it was..pretty good…How was your day?”

“Oh it was perfectly fine. I weaved for a while before I snuck out to the gardens to tend to the lavender..are you quite alright Telemachus?” Penelope tilted her head, glancing at her son. Telemachus was red in the face, his hands slightly shaking. The mention of lavender seemed to only make his turmoil worsen.

“I can’t take this anymore,” Telemachus yelled, burying his face in his hands, “I kissed her.”

“I’m sorry?” His mother asked in a confused manner.

“I did it, mother. I was mad and I cornered her up against the wall. We went back and forth insulting each other and something just-happened..I just kissed her.” The boy explained, running around like someone had cut off his head.

Trying to understand the situation, she moved closer, “Y/n?”

“Y/N!” He shrieked, “And I can’t get her out of my head. She just...lives there now.” He pulled at his hair to show his point, and he groaned in disgust. The prince quickly turned to face his mother.

“But she’s so gorgeous. Her hair and her face and her eyes. It makes me hate her. I really do hate her for it. I shouldn’t be kissing her. She’s the enemy. I know, I know. I don’t know what got in me. I think I’m mentally ill...but how could anyone blame me? How could you have Y/n...Y/n standing in front of you and not kiss her. Everytime I see her I just want to kiss her and wipe the smug grin off her face. But she doesn’t want me. And I don’t want her. This was an accident. A complete mistake. But she didn’t push me away. She would’ve pushed me away if she didn’t like it right? Y/n makes me so sick-” Telemachus was moving around the room, using his arms for emphasis as he frantically paced. He only stopped when his mother’s hand was over his mouth.

“Please be quiet..for one second.” The queen laughed at her son’s panic. Telemachus took a deep breath and his mother took her hand off of his mouth.

“What do I do?” He quietly said, looking down into his mother’s brown eyes. All his mother did was sigh and put her hand on his shoulder.

Penelope’s hand then moved down to his chest where his heart was frantically beating at even the simple thought of Y/n, “Lead with your heart Telemachus..it’s what you do best.”

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Telemachus lay in his bed, staring at the ceiling as the flickering light of the oil lamp danced across the room. The palace was silent except for the distant murmur of waves crashing against the Ithacan shores. Yet, despite the stillness, his thoughts were anything but calm.

He clenched his jaw and turned onto his side, burying his face in the pillow. Why can’t I stop thinking about it? The memory of Y/N’s lips on his flashed vividly in his mind, soft and sudden and charged with an intensity he hadn’t expected. He squeezed his eyes shut, willing the image to fade.

But it didn’t.

Instead, the memory grew more vivid, and before he could stop himself, his mind wandered to the way she’d felt against him, her hand pressed to his chest, her body so close to his that he could feel her warmth. His thoughts turned darker, imagining things he’d never dare admit aloud. His hands on her waist as he ravaged her, wanting to feel her around his—“No!”— He yelled out, shaking his head violently as if he could physically dislodge the images.

“This is insane,” he muttered to himself, rolling onto his other side. His heart pounded, and he felt his face flush despite being alone. He tried counting sheep, thinking of Odysseus’s great adventures, or reciting the Greek tales in his mind, but nothing worked. His thoughts kept slipping back to her, her smirk, her sharp tongue, her teasing remarks, and now, her kiss.

“Stop it, stop it,” he hissed under his breath, throwing an arm over his face. Yet, the more he tried to fight the images, the stronger they became. He rolled again, this time so forcefully that he lost his balance. With a yelp, he tumbled out of bed and landed on the cold stone floor with a dull thud. For a moment, he just lay there, sprawled on the ground, staring up at the wooden beams of the ceiling.

“This is ridiculous,” he muttered, running a hand through his messy hair. His face was burning, his body restless, and his pride thoroughly bruised. He sat up slowly, rubbing his elbow where he’d knocked it against the floor. “Get a grip, Telemachus,” he said to himself, his voice sharp with self-reproach. “She’s just—she’s Y/N. Antinous’s sister. A thorn in my side. Nothing more. The kiss was nothing more than an accident, and I bet she thinks that too.”

But even as he said it, he knew it wasn’t true.

With a frustrated groan, he climbed back into bed, yanking the blanket over his head as if hiding would somehow banish the thoughts plaguing him.

Sleep, however, continued to elude him.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Telemachus paced his room, wringing his hands as his mind waged war against itself. Every logical thought screamed at him to stay put, to push down the chaotic emotions that had been bubbling since the kiss. Yet, the pull of Y/N, her smirk, her sharp tongue, the brief but searing connection they’d shared, was too strong to resist.

Before he could stop himself, he was slipping through the secret passageway, the torch in his hand casting long, flickering shadows against the damp walls. His heart pounded with every step, his breath shallow as he approached the entrance to her room.

He pushed the concealed panel aside quietly, stepping into her dimly lit chamber. She was asleep, her face half buried in her pillow, strands of curly hair splayed out like a halo. For a moment, Telemachus simply stood there, watching her. She seemed so… peaceful, so unlike the sharp tongued tease he argued with daily. But even in sleep, she was Y/N—a force of chaos he couldn’t get out of his mind.

As he took a hesitant step forward, the floor creaked beneath his weight. She stirred, her brows furrowing slightly before her eyes fluttered open. She blinked, her gaze focusing on him in the faint light. “Telemachus?” she murmured, her voice heavy with sleep. She didn’t seem alarmed this time, more confused than anything. “What are you doing here?”

Telemachus froze, his pulse racing. He opened his mouth to respond, but no words came out. “Don’t tell me you’re here to break another vase,” she said, propping herself up on one elbow. Her voice held a familiar teasing lilt, but it lacked the sharp edge he was used to. “If you are, I’d recommend actually trying to break it.”

Her casual tone was the final crack in Telemachus’s resolve. He threw his hands up, his voice loud and raw with emotion. “I can’t stop thinking about you!” Her eyes widened, and she sat up fully, the blanket slipping slightly off her shoulders.

“I can’t sleep, I can’t think, I can’t do anything without you invading my mind,” he continued, pacing in front of her like a man possessed. “You’ve been driving me insane, Y/N! Ever since that kiss—damn it, ever since before the kiss I’ve been losing my mind!”

She opened her mouth to respond, but he didn’t give her the chance. “And I know you don’t care. I know you probably think I’m some foolish little prince who doesn’t know what he wants. But I don’t care anymore.” His voice cracked as he stopped in front of her, looking down at her with an intensity that made her breath catch. “Just let me kiss you one last time, and then I’ll leave. I swear. Just one more kiss.”

The silence that followed was heavy, charged with the weight of his confession. Y/n stared at him, her expression unreadable, her lips slightly parted as if she didn’t know how to respond. Telemachus, trembling and flushed from his outburst, took a step back, running a hand through his hair. “Forget it,” he muttered, his voice thick with frustration and embarrassment. “I’ll go.”

But even as he turned, he couldn’t bring himself to move another step, waiting—hoping—for her to say something. His shoulders slumped in defeat as the weight of his own confession settled over him. His feet felt like lead, but before he could take another step, he felt a hand grab his wrist.

He froze.

“Telemachus,” Y/N’s voice was soft, almost hesitant, so unlike the sharp, teasing tone he was used to. Before he could turn to face her, she tugged on his arm, pulling him back toward her. His balance wavered, and before he knew it, her other hand had slid up to the nape of his neck, pulling him down to meet her lips.

The kiss wasn’t like their first, hurried and impulsive. This one was slower, deeper, and deliberate. It wasn’t just a clash of emotions but an acknowledgment of everything unspoken between them. Telemachus’s breath hitched as he leaned into her, his hands instinctively gripping her waist as if to ground himself. Her touch was firm but not forceful, her lips moving against his in a way that sent his mind spiraling.

When she finally pulled back, just a breath away, her gaze locked onto his. The teasing smirk he’d expected wasn’t there; instead, her eyes were searching, hesitant, as if she wasn’t sure what to say next. “You’re such an idiot,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

Telemachus blinked, his heart pounding so hard he could feel it in his ears. “I—what?”

“You burst into my room, ranting like a madman,” she said, a faint smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “And then you’re just…going to leave after saying all that?”

He swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry. “I thought you didn’t care—”

“Maybe you don’t know everything, little wolf,” she interrupted, her hand still resting lightly on his neck. They stood there in silence, the air between them heavy and electric. Telemachus opened his mouth to speak, but she beat him to it.

“Don’t think too hard about it,” she said, her smirk finally returning as she released him and leaned back against her pillows. “You’ll hurt yourself trying to use that little cute brain of yours.”

Telemachus stepped back, dazed and breathless. “I—uh, I should go,” he stammered, his face flushed. He turned toward the secret passage, his legs unsteady. As he reached the hidden door, his foot caught on the edge of her rug, and he stumbled, nearly falling face first into the wall.

She laughed softly behind him. “Try not to trip over yourself next time, wolf.” He straightened, waving a hand awkwardly as he avoided looking back. “I’m fine!” he called over his shoulder, his voice cracking slightly. “Perfectly fine!”

The door slid shut behind him,

Y/n sighed as she lay back against her pillows, staring at the ceiling. The room felt unusually quiet after Telemachus’s abrupt departure, his flustered stammering still echoing faintly in her ears. She brushed her fingers over her lips absentmindedly, her thoughts swirling in a way she wasn’t used to.

Then, the door to the secret passage creaked open again.

She shot up, her eyes narrowing. “Telemachus?”

Sure enough, there he was, standing awkwardly in the doorway with a sheepish look on his face. His hair was even messier than before, and he avoided her gaze as he stepped into the room, shutting the passage behind him. “Are you serious?” she asked, crossing her arms. “What now?”

“I—I couldn’t leave,” he admitted, his voice quiet but earnest. “I don’t want to leave you, Y/N. Not tonight.” Her expression softened, though she quickly masked it with a raised eyebrow. “What, did you forget how to get back to your room? Or are you just this clingy?”

“I’m serious,” he said, taking a hesitant step closer. “I can’t stop thinking about you, and I don’t want to spend another night lying awake, wishing I were here instead.” She opened her mouth to respond, but the raw vulnerability in his eyes stopped her. For all his usual blustering and self-righteousness, he looked…honest. Lost, even.

She sighed, rubbing a hand over her face. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“Then tell me to leave,” he challenged, his voice trembling slightly. “Tell me, and I’ll go.” Her lips parted, but the words didn’t come. She stared at him for a long moment, and then, with a resigned groan, she patted the space next to her on the bed. “Fine. But just this once.”

Telemachus hesitated, his heart pounding in his chest, before he moved to sit beside her. The bed was warm, and y/n’s presence so close made his thoughts swim.

“Lie down,” she instructed, rolling her eyes. “You look like a kicked puppy standing there.” He did as she said, his body stiff and awkward as he stretched out beside her. She reached for a blanket, draping it over both of them before shifting closer, her arm wrapping loosely around him.

“Are you comfortable now, little wolf?” she asked, her voice tinged with exasperation but also something softer. Telemachus nodded, though his face was burning. “Yeah… thanks.”

For a while, neither of them spoke. Y/N’s hand rested on his shoulder, her breathing slow and steady. Telemachus found himself relaxing despite the storm of emotions in his chest. “Don’t make this a habit,” she muttered sleepily, her head resting lightly against his.

“I won’t,” he whispered, though the thought of leaving her side felt impossible now. Moments later, her breathing deepened as she drifted off, her arm tightening slightly around him. Telemachus, still wide awake, allowed himself a small, fleeting smile before finally succumbing to sleep, feeling a sense of peace he hadn’t felt in weeks.

@procrastination20 @jackiepackiee @barrythestrawberry041 @blessedbyahuntress @f3r4lfr0gg3r

[getousslutt]

Foolishness [pt. 1]

-> When a handsome man with a warm smile and kind eyes offers to take all your troubles away, who are you to refuse?

Pairing: The 'Salesman' x F!Reader

TW. dark content, mdni, noncon, bondage, gun play/kink, gags, mindbreaking, sexual and physical abuse, the salesman is mean in this You are responsible for your own media content ~ if you do not like, do not interact.

A/N: Whoo boy! I've been debating internally whether to post this to Tumblr or not but after fairly positive feedback on AO3, I thought why not! If you'd like to read it there, you can check it out here!

“Come on then, Reader, you know what to do.”

Despite the demanding tone of voice he uses, it still takes your body a minute before it’s able to catch up and listen to the fear racing in your mind. The tears streaming down your cheeks from your eyes are mixing with the drool dripping from the large ball gag wedged in between your lips. All that can be heard in that dark and intimidating room is the sound of your sniveling and muffled cries as you try to force your limbs to move.

You’re terrified — beyond terrified. Petrified to the point that your body has frozen in on itself. 

You never should’ve accepted the man’s game–it was foolish of you. But being foolish is what got you into your situation in the first place. Mistake after mistake made and you’d found yourself drowning in student debt with the ever impending threat of being kicked out of school looming over your shoulders. Humiliated and judged, you’d been abandoned by all and any friends you’d managed to make and with no family to turn to, it had seemed the reality of your fate was inescapable.

Until a man in a pristine grey suit approached you with a warm smile and kind eyes and asked you if you wanted to play a game.

Despite your initial confusion and apprehension, his easy-going charm and convincing enticement had been enough for you to agree. Your desperation had been what persuaded you to follow this older man, one you’d met not ten minutes ago, one you didn’t know the name of, into a black sleek car and into an apartment. Your foolishness was what led you to your situation now.

No longer was his smile warm nor were his eyes kind—instead, the smile felt menacing and cruel and there was a blaze of something sinister and insane in his eyes now as he looked down on you.

When he’d first pulled out rope, you’d tried to back away but he’d reminded you of your debt and the promise to make it all go away. So, you’d let him tie your hands behind your back; you’d found it strange when he'd fussed over how he tied your hands, making sure your hands stayed locked around either elbow. 

The fear welled into something completely new when he’d reached for the button of your blouse.

“What are—”

“Do you want the money or not?” His sharp voice cut in, looming over your shoulder to meet your gaze. “My patience is waning with your impotence.”

Somewhat offended and blinded by your desperation, you’d said nothing in return, only leaning back into his chest in silent consent.

Your attraction to the man was hard to ignore — despite the overall oddness of the situation, watching his lithe and lean fingers swiftly and smoothly unbutton your blouse was enough to make you grow wet. You’d squirmed in the spot, unaware of his careful gaze, a short gasp leaving your lips when he’d finally unbuttoned the last button and pulled back your blouse to reveal your bra.

The man was dead silent as he left your back, moving back to stand in front of you. Your eyes trailed his entire form, breaths shallow and heart racing as his cold hands reached for the waistband of your skirt. With one last look in your hands, he yanked the garment down, bringing it to your ankles;

“Step.”

Swallowing thickly, you'd listened, stepping out of the skirt so he could pull it away.

With that, he'd stood to his full height once more, causing your head to tip back to meet his eyes.

“Now,” he says, slow and calm at first, still with that same smile on his face. “Get on the ground and stick your ass up at me.”

The fear overrides your intrigue, money slipping from your mind as you realize how stupid and naive you were being.

“S-Sir, I don’t—”

Your words get caught in the back of your throat as your face is grabbed harshly, his fingers digging into your cheeks and pulling a cry of surprise from your lips as you’re tugged up, forced to the tips of your toes. With your hands restrained behind your back, you’re left defenceless to even attempt to stop him.

“Get on the ground.”

His tone is considerably darker, smile gone and your eyes widened.

“I-I—”

Pulling away, you blink at the sudden sharp sting across your cheek. It takes you a second, blinking, until you realize he’s slapped you across the face.

Turning back to him, your lips part.

When you don’t move, he slaps you again.

“Stop—!”

Once again, the palm of his hand hits you square across the cheek.

“I can keep doing this.” He threatens and the smile returns with that crazed glee. “Until you listen like a good girl.”

Choking back a whimper, you slowly lower yourself to your knees. 

Once you’re on your knees, you glance at him one final time, hoping this is all some sort of sick joke; he only raises a brow, hands held out, as if in a warning. Biting your lip, you swallow thickly, turning so your back is turned to him and with just a second more, you slowly lower your head to the ground, tipping your body so that your ass is still up as you press your cheek to the carpeted floor.

“Good girl,” the man soothes and you flinch as his hand falls on your panty-clad ass. “Now, let’s start the game.”

You glance back at the man best you can, too nervous to even try and pick your head up properly as you wait for him to finish explaining.

“Here’s how the rules work,” he starts, his hand still tracing along the curve of your ass, pulling at the lining of your underwear. “See this gun here?”

Body freezing at that, you forget yourself, head spinning back and picking up off the ground to stare at the gun held lazily in his hands. You hadn’t seen that on him anywhere—you didn’t know he…

Before you can even think of saying anything, the man’s hand had shoved your head back to the ground, pain radiating from the thud of your cheek on the ground as he'd glared down at you.

“Stay bent like that,” he'd warned, leaning in close, “or I’ll put a bullet in your brain and end this all now.”

The tears start then. You hadn’t even realized you’d been close to tears until that moment, feeling your eyes well and tears stream down at your cheeks as a choked sob pulls from your lips. His hand had remained in place against your cheek, holding you there until you force your head to move in a jerky, slow nod. 

“Good,” he nods, pulling back and straightening his tie like he hadn’t just threatened to murder you. “Let’s finish, shall we?” He'd smileed down at you as you'd sobbed, convulsing on the ground, staring up at him. “You’re going to fuck yourself on this gun. But here’s the trick, you’re not allowed to cum for a full fifteen minutes. If you don’t, I’ll pay off your student debts.”

You can feel yourself starting to hyperventilate, breaths growing quick and panic making your vision spot. Still, you'd forced yourself to speak; “what happens if… if-if I cum?”

“If you cum… well, I haven’t quite decided yet.”

A wail had left your lips then, loud and piercing as you'd crid on the ground, body shaking and hands desperately trying to break free from the rope keeping them restrained. “Please,” you'd found yourself crying, beside yourself. “Please, let me go. I-I… I don’t want to play this ga-game anymore! Please!” 

You'd barely notice the man move until his hand reaches for you again. You'd flinched, fearing a slap again or something worse, but he'd just brushed his fingers across your cheek. “That crying is painstakingly annoying, isn’t it?”

Letting out a sob, you turn inconsolable.

His solution for your cries had been to gag you. And that’s how you found yourself now. 

The man had been kind enough to at least prep you; your earlier attraction had left you somewhat wet and with a bit more prep, the gun wasn’t as painful entering as it would’ve been otherwise. He’d said he’d put it in to help you but after that, it was your turn to start playing.

Now, with a gun in your pussy, the hard ridges jarring and painful regardless, he was clearly waiting for you to start fucking yourself on it.

“If you don’t start fucking yourself now, I’ll pull the trigger.”

Eyes widening, you have no doubt of the man’s threat. You can’t see him since he’s directly behind you and you wouldn’t dare try to lift your head again, but you can imagine the pure glee on his face as he threatens to shoot you.

Squeezing your eyes shut, you force your body to move, pulling your hips back so the gun slides out from behind you. Just as the tip is about to slip out from your hole, you push yourself back. You’re slow, careful, not wanting to hurt yourself, but after a few more minutes of rigged, painful thrusts, you hear him sigh in annoyance. 

“Faster,” he orders, “or I’ll do it myself. And then you definitely won’t win.”

To your credit, you try to quicken your pace. You do the best you're sure you possibly could given the circumstances. But you’re too afraid, body frozen with terror and the looming threat of death that even the understanding that if you don’t go quicker, you will die, isn’t enough. 

After two minutes, his free hand falls on your left hip, stopping you.

“Too bad,” he huffs, as if scolding a child. “My turn.”

It’s immediate. A cry leaves your lips as he thrusts the gun in, slamming into you in a way you’re sure to bruise, before pulling it out and returning. Your cries turn inconsolable once again as he brutally pounds you with his gun, in and out, in and out, your body squirming and muffled pleas leaving your lips that fall on deaf ears.

You grow wet, but not with slick from pleasure. instead, you're sure you've started to bleed; his pace cruel and abusive as you wail on the ground in pain.

When five agonizing minutes pass, and you’re sure your time is ending, his hand on your hip moves and there’s a brush across your clit. It causes you to still, freezing, until the brush returns, this time pressing directly onto your clit. The man rubs his thumb in a circle on your clit, causing your eyes to bulge open, flinching in your restraints.

“Time starts now,” he grins from behind you, “let's see if you can not cum for fifteen minutes.”

You start to thrash in protest, failing but trying to argue that your tim should've started before but the thrusts of the gun return and you’re reminded very quickly of how vulnerable of a position you’ve been placed in. His thumb works quickly and tirelessly, providing stimulation to your previously ignored and bare clit, pulling pleasure you’d thought impossible to feel.

And as his rubbing continues, you grow more wet, this time with slick, until eventually the thrusts of the gun start to feel good. He's too good with his fingers, and maybe some sort of fucked up part of you brain liked what was happening if you were able to garner any kind of pleasure from it at all.

Being fucked with a gun shouldn't feel good. Having your clit played with by a man who'd slapped you and forced the gun in you shouldn't feel good either. Yet, here you were; keening and mewling as the pleasure built.

You have no concept of time, body convulsing and the tingling sensation of your orgasm growing as you try to hold back. His fingers move swiftly and with skill, knowing exactly what moves to make to have you keening and panting on the ground for him. 

It all comes to an end with a sickening snap of the coil, your vision blurring for a minute as hot white pleasure blooms through your entire body, leaving you dizzy. You gasp around your gag, choking on your spit as you moan in response to the orgasm. The man doesn’t stop, guiding you through the orgasm as your body slumps and you’re left flinching in overstimulation.

Heart racing, throat aching, a minute later he finally stops.

The gun is pulled from your pussy with a wet slop, and you let out a cry.

“Such a shame,” he coos, finally moving so you can meet his gaze with tired, blurred vision. It takes you a minute to realize he’s holding his phone in front of your face. “You were so close.”

On his phone is a number – “0:45”

You’d been forty-five seconds from reaching the time limit.

“Now,” he smiles down at you, “what should my prize be for winning?”

[21280]

ex! izuku, one mention of the war. pro hero! y/n, who was also in the war. weird plot, but i had a dream about this with my ex. i need to cope and take my meds.

thinking of accidentally reuniting with your ex izuku midoriya, in one of the most common ways possible: both of you being invited to an arcade for a huge event.

it’s one of your mutual friend’s birthday, with the invite being a 'simple' arcade party. though, nothing about it is simple—you and your friends have the wallet of a pro hero, which meant a whole arcade building was rented for the night, with each one of the games filled with colorful costumes in case of an emergency.

and as soon as you stepped towards a big, down the clown machine, your heard someone clear their throat.

it was none other than izuku midoriya.

how long had you practiced no contact? was it four months? to you it felt like years, but you know what they say. when love truly blooms, times goes by in a flash. did this apply here? you didn't know, but you respectfully greeted him with a smile.

a forced one at that. things with midoriya went downhill after a year of dating, and if you were being honest with yourself, you couldn’t bear to see him. he smiled as he greeted you in return.

“it’s been a while, y/n, how have you been? you wanna play down the clown together?”

it had been exactly four months since the breakup, and yet your given name rolled off his tongue so naturally. chuckling, you reached for your arcade card inside your wallet. “sure, midoriya. though i think we’ve beaten bigger clowns than this one.”

ouch. izuku visibly winced at the mention of his surname. for a brief moment, his mind replayed the events of the war, and how he held you in his arms as tears slipped his eyes. a near death experience is sure to bring people closer, yet in this case, it felt like a riff that would lead you two apart.

you giggled as you swiped the card and watched as the colorful plastic balls fell towards you and him. you each picked one and started throwing them at the nine clowns standing before you. laughs and glances were exchanged, with a few victory cries as all clowns were down and gone, the machine spewing out tickets in return.

izuku cheered as he pulled you into his embrace, his arms wrapped comfortably around your waist. as he pulled back, his hand rested on your waist still, “do you wanna play some more?”

and a part of you wanted to say no. his innocence is far too much for you, constantly reminding you of what led to the end of what was the relationship of the century. even tabloids were confused as to what happened. the happiest couples are always the ones with more trouble in paradise.

yet, you nodded. his fingers intertwined themselves with yours as he drove you towards another game in the arcade. your heart pounded from pure confusion, your mind going back a year as you remembered…

him. this was the izuku midoriya you knew. the carefree, loving izuku midoriya who looked out for you always, and the one who loved you wholly.

as he and you neared a fishing pond, he and you grabbed the magnetic fishing rods. it was terrible, your attempts at catching the plastic fish failing miserably. izuku was always touching you in some way, whether it was his hand on your shoulder or the small of your back when you turned towards him with a pout, or his hand cupping your cheek when you finally got a fish.

“you never answered my question, y/n” he started, his expression completely serious. “how’ve you been?”

“i’ve been amazing, actually” you replied, arms crossing as you continued. “my agency’s teamed up with bakugo’s for some missions, and we’ve grown quite a lot!”

“i’m so happy for you!” izuku smiles, his hand on your shoulder, slowly dragging down towards your forearm.

well, it’s not or never, right?

“so, uhm, midoriya… are you seeing anyone right now?”

his eyes widened as his lips curled into a smile.

“yes, i am! her name’s—“

it was then when your brain stopped processing the words that escaped his mouth. unable to hear the name, you sighed in relief, as it was izuku's mixed signals that got you and him into a rough patch way back. it was a sign that there is no way to go around izuku midoriya without looking like a complete fool.

“that’s so great, midoriya! i’m so happy for you” you laughed awkwardly, “i knew you’d find someone good for you.”

and to be honest, it was during this moment that you were grateful his special person wasn’t you.