#comedy and errors all the way down
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The comedy of errors as I tried to find a functioning dvd playing device last night went like this:
I have no personal laptop right now, which is a crime and a tragedy. We have a computer in the living room and a television in the playroom, which happens to be next to the kids’ bedrooms. I hate the television being in the play room for all kinds of reasons but it is what it is right now. Obviously its placement not ideal for grownup watching after bedtime. The computer is usually used for kids’ school work and only as a tv for the rare occasions I watch something too grownup for the small kids. But that was my plan. The last time I watched anything I streamed it on the family iPad (kids only get it periodically for select educational apps and otherwise it gathers dust.) However, due to circumstances, I have at least two tvs/monitors and possibly more hiding in storage and at least one other dvd player somewhere.
What happened was, the computer cannot even be used right now because the keyboard is broken… and the backup keyboard is still missing. The only extra monitor in storage that could be found had shattered.
So I contemplated these and the extenuating circumstances, which are: I’ve been sick for about eight weeks straight and the kids have been babysat by dvds way too much as I struggled to survive our days. But now, after the grand finale of the neverendjng stomach bug that came for all of us, I am finally well. It will take time to rebuild my energy levels but I can start reclaiming our life.
There always comes a point where I start berating myself while sick, like, you’re just so lazy get up and do it anyway… and then I am suddenly actually well and it’s like a switch flips, night and day difference, and I go, Oh. I’m not uniquely awful I actually could not. But I digress.
Additionally, we often use advent and/or lent as a “screen fast” time anyway, and it’s extra needed this year. And it’s almost advent. As I move further into the second trimester, I will have more energy in the day but if past precedent holds will continue to crash hard and without ability to fight it before the kids’ bed time, at which point my endlessly patient and hard working husband is simply on default parent duty and bedtime shift. It’s just a fact of pregnancy for us. Sometimes, between being pierced by exhaustion so deep I can’t move or form a coherent sentence and falling asleep, my bleary brain likes to watch television because I can pretend I have a life that way.
So short story long I appropriated the playroom television and stuck it in my room. Even though we don’t like screens in bedrooms.
The kids will be better off for the screen break, I will be better off for having an extra motivator to get the house in order before dinner, and now that I am a functioning human being again (at least before 7pm) I will be able to fix the keyboard or find the extra one and figure out a screen solution I actually like before Christmas movie season.
tldr I spend too much energy worrying about screens, still ready to abandon everything in favor of becoming cryptids in the woods. I used my brief morning coffee window to write this and now I wonder, why. Why
#my life#as usual I will not be accepting suggestions critique or advice at this time#a necessary disclaimer on the unsolicited advice website#the most hilarious thing is it doesn’t even work properly itself because the remote is broken and the volume is stuck at one level#comedy and errors all the way down
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night changes | 𝐥𝐡𝐬
୨୧ pairing: lee heeseung x fem!reader ୨୧ word count: 3k ୨୧ genre: smut, fluff, hint of comedy ୨୧ tags: roomates to lovers au, pet names (love, baby, etc.), dirty talk, size kink, face sitting, 69, unprotected sex, creampie. ୨୧ synopsis: Maybe a citywide power outage is what you need to finally confess your feelings. Well, that and a risque card game. ➸ Birthday fic for the beautiful boy!! Also, the card game is fictional and takes inspiration from other card games like Hot Seat!
“How many candles do we have left?” You ask in the form of a groan, trying to find a bar of reception in your apartment. With the power suddenly lost from the blistering rainstorm outside, it’s a wonder when it will calm down and you’ll have access to the outside world again.
“Relax. I bought more a couple days ago when I was tracking the path of the storm. No big deal.” Heeseung begins lighting them and placing them around your shared apartment. By the time he’s finished, the candlelight gives enough coverage of the living spaces for you both to walk around without issue.
Heesung has always been good at that. He can prepare for the worst and keep a cool head in the midst of chaos, including when your fiery temper rears its head. But your fire comes in handy sometimes. When he doesn’t want to deal with talking to your landlord or fixing errors with the management company, you take the reins. The balance you both established is why you work so well as friends and roommates.
“I wonder how long we’ll be out of power,” you mumble, drumming your fingers across the arm of the couch and trying not to have a meltdown. The cool air from the open windows provides some relief, even if you’re running hot from your spiked nerves.
“Well, whether it’s a few hours or a dozen, we just gotta make the best of it.” Heeseung smiles. Suddenly, his eyes widen and he claps his hands together. “How about board games?”
You giggle. “When was the last time you played a board game, Hee?”
“It’s been a minute,” he confesses, a shy smile on his lips. “But, hey! Never a better time than now.”
The two of you open the spare living room closet to grab a handful of board games you’ve collected since living in the apartment together. You rifle through them, Candyland immediately catching your eye. But Heeseung has other ideas.
“Oh! Let’s do Hot Topics!” Heeseung holds up the box with a smirk, immediately opening it to rifle through its contents.
“But there’s only two of us!”
“So? We’ll make it work!” He sits down on the living room rug and pats the spot next to him.
You oblige his request. How couldn’t you when he smiles at you in that way? With his cute cheeks and Adam's apple bobbing in laughter—no. You’re not going to trudge up these old feelings again, especially during such an unfortunate situation.
You’re friends and roommates, end of.
Heeseung shuffles the cards and pulls out the first one on the top of the deck. “Alright, first one. All Play: Would I marry someone twice my age if it meant I never had to work again?” He considers the question, but you immediately let out a noise similar to one you would make when vomiting.
“No fucking way! I don’t want my husband one foot out the door!”
“Well, if I didn’t have to work at the ramen shop anymore—” Heeseung wiggles his eyebrows and you shove him in the shoulder. He expels a hearty laugh. “I’m kidding! I agree with you.”
The game continues on, prompts and questions so ridiculous they make any lingering anxiety about the storm ebb away, too lost in the game and your friend to notice the ever-present storm outside your door.
You take a new card from the deck, flipping it upside to reveal the prompt. “Dare: Stare at the player next to you for thirty seconds. The first one to break eye contact has to skip their turn.” You throw the card in the discarded pile without a care. “That’s so easy.”
“Bring it on.” You move positions to face Heeseung, his eyes immediately lighting up with the challenge presented to you both.
“Three, two, one,” you count down. “Go!”
Heeseung tries to make you break immediately with a goofy face, but you stand resolute, eyebrows furrowed and mouth in a thin line. But then, he stares you down with his bright eyes and soft smile, making your entire body go cold. This could not be happening. You aren’t feeling your stupid, childlike crush come back at you in full force. Not tonight. Not like this.
You had been so stern in keeping it stamped down the past two years you’ve been roommates. It hadn’t been easy, but with enough practice and denial, it seemed pretty easy to keep it at bay. But now, the only two people in the darkness of this room, you wonder how much longer your resolve can hold.
You fake a heavy cough and turn away. Heeseung screeches in victory with his arms raised up high. “Weak! You’re so weak.”
You roll your eyes and turn back to face the deck. “Whatever, dumbass. Pick the next card.”
He reads his new card aloud. “Truth: How long was your longest crush?” He releases an anxious laugh, and then throws the card into the pile amongst the other used ones. “Longest one’s still going.”
You turn your head to face him, but he’s only staring at the deck. He grabs the next card and ignores how his confession has created a new, heavy fog of tension. If Heeseung has a crush, one that’s apparently been in the works for awhile, neither Jake nor anyone else gave you the head’s up about it.
Heeseung reads the next challenge aloud. “Dare: Excite one player just by kissing them for 10 seconds. You’re not limited to the player’s lips.” His eyes go wide as he holds the card tightly between his fingers. “If you don’t want me to, I—“”
You laugh it off, taking the card from him and setting it on the floor. “It’s fine. It’s just a game, right?”
“Right.” Heeseung inches closer, your faces barely a few inches apart. You were prepared for him to kiss you on the mouth and that would be the end of it, but you tremble in pleasure when you realize his lips are suddenly attached to your neck.
A moan escapes your lips when he begins to suck on the space of your neck near your collarbone. He doesn’t use his hands at all. All it takes is his mouth, its soft pressure creating a swirling eruption within your stomach, begging to be released. He licks at your bruising skin, pressing his mouth there once more before stepping back.
When he’s back in his normal position, the timer goes off. “So, uh,” he says, cutting through the sudden awkward silence, “are you excited?”
You blush and bite down on your bottom lip hard, no words coming out in response. You turn your attention back to the deck. “F-Finally, my turn again!”
You turn another card for the next prompt, reading it in your head and wanting to jump out the window before Heeseung can see it. “Dare: Kiss the player you would most likely go on a date with on the cheek.”
You tell yourself to just get it over with, in spite of your jumbling nerves. Excuse it after as a technicality, him being the only living person in existence in the apartment to kiss for the challenge. End it there and hope the past few dares do not destroy the sanctity of your friendship.
You crawl on your hands to get close to Heeseung’s cheek, but before you can land the kiss, he turns his head and catches your mouth with his. You’re unprepared for the act, but your lips quickly become accustomed once you spend a second or two in his embrace. His lips are gentle, teasing, eager for you, and it makes your knees feel like cotton.
He pulls you up from your position to rest in his lap, still pressing his mouth to yours. Suddenly, his tongue is licking at the roof of your mouth, and your body feels like a live wire. How did he have the power to jumpstart your nerves and set them on fire all at once?
You separate from him, confusion clouding your sudden desire. “Why’d you do that?”
“I wanted to.” Heeseung moves stray hairs from your face, the baby hairs clinging to your skin from the sweat. “Did you not want me to?”
“No, I did!” You giggle nervously. “I just didn’t know how you’d react if I said so.”
“Why did you never say anything before?” Heeseung looks genuinely confused and concerned. He wonders how much more obvious he had to have been. Before this moment, had he missed chances to give you the signs? Clearly so, with your stammered words and nervous limbs. He had to get better at his communication.
“Do you know how awkward it would’ve been if you hadn’t felt the same?” You ask him the rhetorical question, your eyebrow quirked up. “Just tiptoeing around the both of us knowing I have this exhaustive crush on you?”
Heeseung chuckles into your neck. If you described your crush in that way, his had to have been all-consuming, even if you were oblivious to it. “Exhaustive?”
“I mean,” you whisper, “do you know how hard it is to look at you and not want to jump you all the time?”
You feel his bulge tighten against his sweatpants, the sensation against your body making you gasp. Heeseung smirks in response. “Well, clearly it’s a mutual thing.”
The two of you resume kissing, both lost in the relief of your feelings mirroring each others’. In spite of the current storm still whipping the trees against your apartment building, you were so at ease wrapped around Heeseung like a vine.
If anything, Mother Nature is mimicking all the sensations bubbling up inside of you, close to reaching their boiling point with the way Heeseung expertly touches and squeezes your skin while his mouth covers your face in kisses.
“Do you know how long I’ve wanted this?” He asks as he lays you down on the living room rug, hands in your hair and lips magnetized to the spot on your neck where he had kissed you previously. “How long I’ve thought about being in your bed? Touching you, tasting you, feeling you.”
“Heeseung, please.” You inch his shirt up and over his head, admiring the divots and ridges of his newly-revealed muscles.
It isn't the first time you’ve seen him shirtless, but it’s only the beginning of the night, and you’re certain you’ll see parts of him you haven’t seen yet. The thought alone makes your body tingle in all the right places. “Stop talking and touch me more.”
“So impatient.” Heeseing releases a devilish laugh into the column of your throat. “I want to savor this. Savor you.”
“We have all the time in the world until the power goes out. I want you,” you whine, bucking your hips up into nothing but his clothed legs and hips, his bulge barely brushing your clothed heat.
Heeseing hisses and makes you both sit up, his expression blown from lust. “Sit on my face.”
You laugh, hesitant yet excited. “What?”
He places a kiss on your lips with every pause between his words. “I. Said. Sit. On. My. Face.”
You listen to his tone, playfully demanding but completely serious. This is a new side of Heeseung you had never seen. The same humorous guy you felt butterflies for since the day you met, but with an edge of vulgarity that leaves you in impure anticipation.
You tug off both your cotton shorts and underwear. You may still be wearing your tank top, but you imagine that will come off soon too.
You settle your body down on Heeseung’s awaiting tongue. Your body trembles when he takes an eager lick along your folds, his mouth immediately enveloped in your heat. “Jesus, are you always this wet?” He asks, voice muffled but still clear enough for you to hear.
“Only when I think of you,” you confess. Many nights alone proved the only way to get off was with the image of Heeseung’s face and body between your legs in your brain. Even if he was seven feet away on another overnight session of League of Legends, you had to get your fix.
“Fuck.” He pulls you down further onto his mouth, practically suffocating him as he laps at your cunt mercilessly. Your mouth hangs open in ecstasy, all the fantasies you held incomparable to this.
Heeseung’s hips match yours in their rhythm against his face, and you feel guilty the poor man is receiving no pleasure while you have all of it. You reach over to the top of his sweatpants and pull them down, his cock springing free from the material. The tip leaks a hefty amount of precum, and you smear it down his girthy length with one hand.
Heeseung moans against your center, but he pulls himself back. “You don’t have to–”
“You’re taking care of me,” you pant, “let me take care of you.”
You wrap your lips around his tip, experimenting with the pressure and size of him on your tongue. When he groans and growls in between your legs, lapping at your essence with even more fervor, you take his entire length in your mouth.
“God, you’re too good at this,” Heeseung moans, rolling his hips into your awaiting mouth and cursing when he feels the back of your throat. “I could have your mouth on me all fucking day.”
You continue like that for a while, tasting each other and teasing the waters until both of you are a mess. It’s a mesmerizing dance you’re in with him, chasing your highs together. But you’re unsure who will ask to take the next step. Removing your mouth from his with a resounding pop, you plead, “Please Hee, I want you inside of me.”
“Anything for you.” He gently gets up from between your legs and positions himself against the couch. He signals for you to sit on his lap, a playful grin on his lips. You do so without a second thought, anticipating his body molding to yours perfectly. How did the night start with you both planning another ramen-filled movie night and end up here?
You sink down onto him, the sudden fullness making your eyelids shut from the sensation. “Damn, you’re so tight,” he growls, slowly rocking you onto him with his hands on your hips. “Feels fucking incredible.”
“Y-You’re so big, Hee. It’s amazing.” You find your own pace, languidly riding him as the wind still rages on outside. Besides the weather, the sounds of your skin against his crowd the space of your apartment.
Heeseung removes your tank top quickly, clutching one of your breasts to knead the skin. “You like it, don’t you?” Heeseung whispers. “Being filled up by me, stretched out and fucked hard?” He takes the other breast into his mouth, latching his lips onto your nipple and swirling his tongue wickedly.
“Yes, fuck yes. Only by you, Hee.”
He bucks his hips up into you, your body slamming down on him in fast increments to compensate for his new rhythm. “Yeah, baby, tell the entire floor who’s making you feel this good.”
“Heeseung, fuck,” you scream out his name. It doesn’t matter if the rain and wind can’t conceal your sounds. All you care about is this moment, right here with him in your living room, all your desires coming to fruition. “Fuck, it’s so good.”
After more kisses and curses of pleasure leaving both of your lips, you feel the end deep in your stomach, the release tightening and ready to snap. “I’m gonna come,” you say.
“Ride me harder, baby,” he responds, moving his hand in between your bodies to rub your clit in a frenzy. “Use me. Come all over me.”
You do, feeling your body use what’s left of its energy to reach your peak quickly. You cry out a final time as your orgasm floods your senses, your body alive yet limp from the endorphins circulating through your system.
“Ah, fuck.” Heeseung spills inside of you mere seconds after, your sounds coupled with the feeling of your pulsing walls around him enough for his body to climax as well. He milks it all, hips rocking up into you to exhaust himself in an effort to feel his entire release.
You both slow down, but you relish in the feeling of the sudden warmth of Heeseung’s orgasm inside of you. It trickles down between your legs and onto Heeseung himself as he begins to pull out of you, and the sight may just make him rock-hard again. But he’ll save the image for another night.
Heeseung gives you a final, tender kiss before he stands up from his spot on the floor. He runs to the bathroom for a washcloth, wetting it to clean the both of you up. When he’s done, he takes great care in snuffing out the candles around the house.
You tease him for it, but he reminds you about the serious fire hazard of leaving them burning overnight, to which you agree. “Always one step ahead, babe,” Heeseung jokes.
He brings a blanket with him to cover the both of you up, your body immediately warmed by his. Your head rests on his bicep, his muscle the perfect pillow.
In that moment, you’re content with not just the power being out, the only sounds being the storm and the air leaving your lungs. You’re content to be here in the dark with Heeseung, the feelings you repressed for so long not only released but reciprocated.
Heeseung kisses your forehead and hums you to sleep, his voice the last sound you hold onto before you’re whisked away to dreamland.
You wake up nestled in Heeseung’s arms on the living room floor, the blanket he grabbed barely covering both of your bodies. You hear the sound of your Roomba trying to connect to the bluetooth and feel the blue morning sky on your skin, telltale signs the power’s back on and the storm has gone on its way.
You smile to yourself, snuggling further into Heeseung’s neck and kissing the skin there. Who knew a power outage could bring two people together like this?
He rustles awake a moment later, his eyelashes fluttering open so beautifully. A smile stretches across his face when he sees what you’re doing. In the light of day, his face is even more breathtaking, and you’re grateful its expressions are reserved solely for you now. “Good morning.”
You blush. “Very good morning.”As you kiss him, invigorating his energy and leftover desire from the night prior, you think you’ll have to send the manufacturers of Hot Topics a thank-you card.
@yvnempire @sjylouvre @mini-mews @jayparked @heesuncore @yoursjaeyun @sungbeams @jenoslutie @loserlvrss
𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 ౨ৎ˚₊
@kvanity-main @sweetvenomnet @onedoornet @sayxonet @violetanet @svthub @whipped-kpop-creators
#kvanity#svnet#heeseung smut#enhypen smut#lee heeseung smut#enha smut#enhypen x reader#enha x reader#lee heeseung x reader#heeseung x reader#enha fic#enha fics#enhypen fics#enhypen fic#lee heeseung fic#lee heeseung fics#heeseung fic#heeseung fics#kpop x reader#kpop fics#kpop fic#kpop smut
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Thinking about how lucky it is that Shen Qingqiu (SY version) never gave Luo Binghe the wrong impression that he wanted a harem.
Like imagine they've having a conversation and Shen Qingqiu makes some offhanded comment about a harem is all well and good, but he thinks it should definitely be of a manageable size, hint hint, with individuals who get along harmoniously and support their primary spouse, hint hint, and marrying almost everyone you hook up with is just bad form because it's inevitably going to cause friction and it'd be nearly impossible to properly look after that many extra spouses, hint hint.
Luo Binghe picks up on the hints but draws the entirely incorrect conclusions. Combined with his previous inquiries into what kinds of women his shizun likes (SQQ, not wanting to ever be seen as LBH's potential romantic rival and eager to free himself of the original's lecherous reputation: I have no interest in any women whatsoever!) and some subtle inquiries about when a person should settle down (SQQ, with unexamined anxiety at the prospect of his dear disciple heading out into the world: not too soon! a man should establish himself well and figure out what he likes first, and take his time!), Luo Binghe concludes that his master has been biding his time and is building up to constructing a reasonably-sized harem of malewives.
Because apparently, Shizun believes that a man in a position of significant power should inevitably want such things. And disciple Binghe isn't thinking of "a position of significant power" as "effective god-emperor of the whole world", his current ideas of such things are more along the lines of "peak lord" really. Also why should Shen Qingqiu make so many comments about how Luo Binghe must surely be anxious to start taking lovers or daydreaming about having a billion wives unless he just thinks that's the standard for everyone? Because that's what he wants?
It was chaotic enough when just one of these guys was bracing himself for the inevitable harem-building, but if Binghe also expected he was going to have to supply Shen Qingqiu with a stable of other men, hoo boy. Binghe telling himself that he's fine with it. As long as he's first wife, Shizun can have others. Getting particularly vicious towards new guys Shen Qingqiu meets, like okay he's resigned himself to Liu Qingge, and probably maybe also Yue Qingyuan, and in those cases definitely having to fight them tooth and nail for primary spouse position (his plan is to become the undisputed master of the domestic sphere and thereby outrank them on that front, even if he can't beat their peak lord credentials), but anyone else is someone he can potentially chase off and Shizun will still have his reasonably-sized harem. If Gongyi Xiao wants into the harem he's going to have to earn it, and he's getting bottom of the pecking order!
Binghe, after they finally get together, trying to have frank discussions about the inevitable harem. Shen Qingqiu putting on a brave face because he, of course, thinks Binghe's talking about his own harem. Getting confused as to why Liu Qingge is suddenly factoring into the conversation. Then reaching entirely the wrong conclusion because oh right, Binghe is gay now and Liu Qingge is extremely pretty. Makes sense! Definitely not what Binghe means but it makes sense!
Actually this would be a hilarious way for bingliushen OT3 to happen. Just a complete comedy of errors where bingqiu are both trying to secure Liu Qingge for each other without ever concretely establishing that either of them wants him, even though they think they have.
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TEMPTATION (p.js)
best friend!jay x fem!reader
Warnings : non consensual, dubious consent, manipulation, smut, loads of masturbation, jay is a freak, anal sex, obsessive behavior, mentions of violence, Morally gray plot and characters obviously, read at your own risk. Not proofread, there might be some errors.
Wc : 8.6k
a/n : reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated so much, please, please don't hesitate to tell me your thoughts, it makes my entire day<3
Candid.
You were too candid for your own good.
Jay doesn't remember when it started to get this bad. you have always been someone who spoke their mind, but he never expected to be witnessing it first hand, and definitely not like this.
As he watches you deep throat the popsicle, your glossy lips wrapped around it so deliciously,the lustrous sheen reminiscent of morning dew on rose petals; he thinks he's in one of his wet dreams. The gloss you're wearing today is not the same as yesterday; they're both shades of dark red but Jay can tell the difference. How? Don't ask him. It's not like he spent most of his time staring at your lips or anything. He isn’t obsessive (he is). He most definitely doesn't look up the same glosses you wear online, or order them to use them for some ulterior motives. so yeah, don’t ask him why or how he can tell what the raspberry red on your lips tastes like.
Your twinkling eyes meet his, the ice pop coming out of your mouth with a loud squelch, and you smile.
"What do you think?" you ask, and Jay doesn't remember what you're asking, or what you were talking about before that pink popsicle came into the picture.
He stares at you dumbly, eyes transfixed on the allure of your saliva coated lips. Oh, he so badly wants to-
"Jay, are you even listening?" your voice interrupts the not so decent direction his thoughts were headed in.
"Huh?"
"I'm asking you, what do you think about my throat game?" your eyes shine, and Jay gulps.
This. This is exactly what he's been dealing with for the past few months.
You both have been best friends since sophomore year, and he understands that as people get closer, they start sharing all types of thoughts and secrets. Even the most intimate and inappropriate ones. Right?
Wrong.
Because jay doesn't remember sexual questions and indecency being a bonding activity among best friends. Sometimes he wonders, do you even consider him a man? Because what man is immune to these sinful thoughts, no matter how hard he tries? Were you really that unaware of the impact your words have on him or did you do it on purpose?
Jay just wasn't mentally prepared for this phase of your friendship. He blames it on his sex crazed brain.
"It-it's good" he mutters, praying that you don't notice the shakiness in his voice. or the reddening of his ears. or the sweat trickling down his neck. or the way he keeps the cushion tightly situated on his lap. Oh fuck it, there's no way you don't notice.
You giggle. You giggle, and the sound goes straight to his chubbing up cock.
"thought so, I've been practicing you know? Heeseung is so lucky, I don't even have a gag reflex" you excitedly brag about your sexual prowess, and Jay can't feel his legs. In fact, all his focus is zeroed in on one place, just like the blood rushing to his dick.
His fists clench at the familiar name and he grits his teeth to stop the throbbing in his jaw.
If Jay's life was a coming of age comedy, you were definitely the main character, and heeseung; even thinking of his name leaves a bad taste in jongseong's mouth, would be your potential love interest. Matter of fact, he seemed to be everyone's love interest.
Jay tho? He wasn't even a supporting character. You just kept him around.
You had pranced into his life in sophomore year, all wide smiles and bright eyes. When he had moved away from his home for college, he had accepted the fact that he would probably spend all of his college life alone.
Because, one, jongseong was awkward. And two, jongseong was awkward.
His awkwardness stemmed from having two friends for most of his life; they were the only two people he could talk to like a normal human being. So, when he left them behind, he left his ability to make proper conversations with them.
But you didn't need him to talk. Nope. You did all the talking for him.
He'd been minding his business, cramming up the notes for upcoming end sem exams , when the chair beside him had been pulled out and you had plopped on it in all your glory. He remembers that you had smelled like ripe cherries, and it didn't take long for jeongseong to get addicted to that fragrance.
Extrovert adopting an introvert, was the basic description of your friendship with him.
But he doesn't know where his obsession with you fits in the dynamic, doesn't know where his need to inject you in his veins stems from.
"Y-yeah, H-he's so fucking lucky" he admits, eyes shaking. He knows he sounds nervous and distressed, but if you notice, you don't mention it.
He watches as you smile proudly and go back to sucking on the popsicle, without a single care in the world. Your red tongue pokes out to lick along its length, before you start suckling on its tip.
oh, how he wishes he was that godforsaken popsicle.
It happens again on a leisure evening. Jay had rented out the movie you so desperately wanted to see, but somewhere in the middle, you got bored. Honestly,he should’ve sensed it coming; from the weary sighs leaving your lips, to the way you were reclined on the couch, it couldn’t have been more obvious.
"It's so hard being single I swear, my fingers don't do it for me and i am so fucking frustrated right now "
Jay thinks he has developed hearing impairment. If not that, then maybe brain damage, because he's sure he's making this all up in his head somehow. there's no way you're talking to him about masturbation right now. This has to be one of his lucid dreams, there's no way you're that comfortable around him.
oh but you are. Your eyes rest on his, curious, inquisitive, as if waiting for a response. But jongseong has lost his ability to formulate coherent sentences.
"Oh" he blurts.
that's it. That's all that he can come up with.
It's an essential mercy that you don't particularly seem to care for his response, just needing a signal to rant more.
"Yes. oh. and i swear Jay, sometimes I'll try to get my fingers in there, but it's so fucking tight and they only go half way in, it's so frus-"
Jay tunes the rest of the conversation out. His mind latches onto the word "Tight ". His throat becomes parched and his palms sweat profusely where they rest against his thighs. His eyes travel down your body, drinking you in. The moles on your collarbone are so fucking tempting, he wonders if someone has told you this before. The way your skirt pools around your thighs has him gasping for air, too much skin, his palms itch to grope.
He feels like a fucking creep, because the creases on your forehead and the heated movements of your hands as you emphasize your point, makes it clear that you are just rambling.
He's your best friend and you're sharing your issues with him, like normal friends do. except Jay is not normal. At least, not when it comes to you.
He knows that you've not had much experience, knows that you've never even been fucked good, and he can't stop his imagination from running wild as he pictures you under him right now. Right on the couch that you've got your pretty ass seated on.
He wonders what your cute moans sound like, wonders if you're a screamer, or do you like to deep throat on fingers to keep your voice down. Wonders what your face looks like when you're cumming. Wonders if your nails will scratch his back red while he stuffs you full of his cum, or will you beg him to pull out.
he shouldn't be having these thoughts and yet, he just can't help it.
"What about you?" you ask, disrupting his inner monologue.
"Me?" he falters, shifting a little, sneakily adjusting his aching length.
"Yeah, are you getting some? or do you just jerk off like other losers? " There's a teasing glint in your eyes as you ask him the most intimate question one can ask someone.
Jay chokes on his own saliva. Thankfully, before he can muster up the courage to stutter an embarrassing attempt of an answer, your phone rings and you're making your way out of his house. A family emergency, you tell him, and Jay can't even bring himself to ask you about it, his mind too preoccupied with the conversation you both just had.
What would you have said if he had told you about all the girls that he fucks, imagining that they were you? Would you have been disgusted, or would it turn you on?
or about all the nights he spends wanking off to your most innocent pictures on his phone; would you think he's creepy, or would you ask him to show you how?
He can't help slipping his hands inside his pants once you're gone, can't help the pathetic moans that fall from his lips while he imagines how 'tight ' you must be. Fuck. Would you clamp around his throbbing length? would your cute little pussy suck him right in?
His movements get faster, more desperate, palms getting slick with how much precum he's leaking as he jerks himself off to the thoughts of your cunt. He flicks his wrist, the friction of his rough palm against his sensitive dick driving him insane.
He needs it, he needs you.
His grasp on his leaking cock becomes firm; tighter, wetter, softer, your thoughts send him right over the edge just in a few more dreamy strokes. The act of cumming inside his boxers is so fucking filthy, the wet spot forming on the front of his pants being a testament to his perverted desires.
"fuck, fuck baby" he groans, gulping harshly while he comes down from his high, his cum covering his palms and thighs , some of it splattering onto his stomach.
God, if only you could see him right now. If only you knew what a mess you make of him.
You're drunk.
He can see it in the way you're starting to slur your words, the sentences no longer making any sense. Your eyes are glassy and droopy, almost on the verge of passing out. He should stop you. He should snatch the bottle away from your wobbly hands and yet.
He doesn't.
Maybe if he was a better man, he would have, but jay is not that man.
Jay watches you take another swing and anticipation builds up in his chest. You're unaware, blinded to the fact that he came here with a purpose tonight; multiple bottles of rum, the particular brand that gets you groggy in a few sips, the game cards, the setting, everything was planned.
When you told him that your roommate was gone for the night, he saw the perfect opportunity to set his sick scheme into motion. And like the naive little girl that you were, you didn't even question him about his odd idea of getting drunk on a weekday, or why you were the only one getting drunk while his glass sat untouched between you both.
Your head lulls to the side ,and within a few seconds, you plop onto your back, mumbling a few intangible words, spread out on your bed like a fucking feast.
Jay inhales harshly, his tongue flicking out to lick over his dry lips. He looks around frantically, as if someone can see what he's about to do. As if someone can peek into his sick and twisted mind. There's no one here though, and his patience is running thin.
Jay crawls over your limp body, his dark eyes devouring you, memorizing every feature up close. Your hairs are splayed around your head like a halo, some strands falling onto your forehead. your lashes flutter slightly, still in between the phase of being passed out and somewhat awake. Your luscious lips keep mumbling words that he's sure even you don't understand. there's a red flush on the apple of your cheeks, enhancing the contours of your face, and Jay just wants to take a bite.
His hungry eyes travel lower,drinking your beauty in like a famished man, watching in rampant awe at how your chest rises and falls, your tank top giving him an eyeful of your soft cleavage. well damn.
His throat bobs, taking in the way your tank top rides up your stomach, exposing your entire midriff to his lustful eyes. You're so, so innocent like this, so naive. How could you trust him so easily? He was a man, it didn't matter that he was your best friend,he was a man regardless.
you really have zero survival instincts.
But Jay is glad that it's him and not someone else. Jay would never harm you, Jay would never do anything wrong to you. He just wants to love you.
His hand moves instinctively, and he's groping your soft thighs, eyes flickering up instantly to watch you with a bated breath. When you don't show any signs of waking up, his movements get harsher, his hold sliding up,grabbing a handful of your ass. A groan falls from his lips at the feeling of your soft skin against his rough palms, his dick hardening inside his pants. Your shorts are too thin to leave anything to the imagination.
Before he knows, his hands are roaming and exploring your curves freely, caressing every inch of your naked skin that he can find. God you're so soft, so fucking soft. He doesn't overdo it tho, doesn't grab you as harshly as he wants to, aware that he can't leave any marks. He leans down and bites on your lower lip inadvertently, eyes closing in delight when your taste overwhelms his senses. You're sweeter than he imagined, and he automatically presses further into you. He moves his lips, tries to kiss you, but your lack of reciprocation irks him to no end. Fueled by his desperation to taste you, his hand comes up and he's cupping your plushy cheeks, making your mouth pucker up like a fish, the little peek of your red tongue from inside drives him up the fucking wall. Without thinking, he dives in, his tongue meeting yours, licking into your hot mouth messily, slurping in your saliva like a freak.
It's too much, the feeling of your body so close, your taste, the fact that this was wrong on so many levels, it all just added up to his arousal.
He trails his lips downwards,kissing and licking every inch of your tempting flesh.
As if a switch is flipped inside his head, Jay pulls back hurriedly and unzips his pants. his hands shake on the zipper, high from the adrenaline coursing through his veins. His dick throbs against his boxers, begging for some sweet relief. His breathing is deep, the fact that he is finally about to act on his perverse fantasies hitting him hard. As he pulls his leaking dick out of the confines of his boxers, shoving them unceremoniously down to his knees, he leans back over your figure again, supporting himself with one palm resting beside your head.
He hisses painfully through his teeth, the feeling of his palm wrapping around his cock being too much.
Jay wants to see your pussy, god, he wants to taste it, he wants to fuck it till you're screaming, but not yet. He knows his limits. He knows that once he gets a peek of the treasure you hide between your legs, he might not be able to stop himself from pounding your limp body into the sheets; and so he controls the itching in his loins, resists the temptation. That can wait for another day. Right now though, he just wants to cum.
He pulls down your tank top impatiently, exposing your bra clad tits to his starving eyes. Lace, of course you wear lace.
"fucking slut" he grunts. Fuck, the way your boobs spill out of the cups, your nipples peeking through the sheer fabric makes his dick twitch. Without further ado, He wraps his palm around himself and starts stroking.
"fuck baby, look at what you do to me" he groans, leaning down to kiss your plump cheek, nuzzling his nose into your warm flesh.
His bottom lips is tucked between his teeth, his grip tightening around his leaking shaft, moving his rough palm up and down languidly. As much as he wants to take his time enjoying your body, he knows he can't take a risk. On top of that, he's too pent up to be able to drag this out, he can already feel the familiar tingling in the pit of his stomach. Too good,everything feels too good.
He whines as his thumb rubs over his engorged tip, the pleasure driving him insane.
"are you tight baby? fuck, I bet you're so fucking tight, would make my dick feel so good won't you?" He gasps into your skin, brows furrowing as his movements become harsher, faster. His abs flex and his hips jerk forward into his tight fist, imagining it's your pussy that he's fucking into.
“god it feels so good to finally fuck my fist” he pants, his warm breath fanning your flushed face.
His thighs tremble and he leans his body into yours, pressing himself flush against your unsuspecting figure. He slots his throbbing cock between your plush thighs and starts humping against you eagerly. He just can't help it. It's all your fucking fault.
"Mhmm, baby, baby, fuck you feel so good" He whimpers, fingers digging into the fat of your waist, nose buried inside the crook of your neck, breathing you in. You smell so fucking intoxicating, and he feels his sanity slipping away. God, how he wishes he could thrust inside of your wet heat right now. How he wishes he could jerk his cock off using your tight little cunt.
Its getting wet and messy, the squelching sounds coming from his cock moving back and forth against your flesh are downright filthy.
A strained moan slips from his throat and the knot in his stomach tightens. He's so fucking close.
Jay gathers a copious amount of saliva in his mouth and spits in his hand, rubbing it all over his dick, lubricating it for more pleasure, flicking his wrist faster.
"wish I was inside you right now, look how hard you make me baby, gonna cum so much f’ you-mhmnp-fuck-fuck" His whines become louder, groans get breathier, indicating the approach of an impending orgasm.
The heat inside his loins becomes unbearable and he needs contact. Direly.
Naked skin, soft flesh rubbing against his sweaty body while he jerks himself off, that’s exactly what he craves. He lets go of his cock momentarily and strips his shirt off, throwing it aimlessly across your room. He pants while he slides your bra down your chest, letting your boobs spill out in the open. The sight so lewd, he could come from this alone.
His pupils dilate, sweat trickling down his neck in effort and desire. he leans forward and presses his nipples against yours, hissing harshly, gasping in pleasure at feeling his naked chest rubbing against yours. Is this what sex with you would feel like? Sweaty bodies rutting against one another, chasing carnal pleasure?
Jay pants, and starts to jerk off furiously, wanking his dick like a mad man, palm moving back and forth while he thrusts his tongue inside your open mouth again. A groan escapes his lips, it really does feel like he is fucking you.
"God I wish you could see me right now baby, using your body for my pleasure, just like it's supposed to be" He grunts into your mouth, coating your lips with his saliva.
His hand picks up speed, he's so fucking close, his hips jerk into his own touch, chasing that friction like an animal in heat.
"God yeah, oh fuck yeah baby, gonna cum so hard for you" He groans, squeezing his eyes shut while he spurts long strings of cum onto your naked skin, hot pants fall from his mouth into yours. He squeezes his dick, tugging at it a few more times, cumming so much that it doesn't seem to stop.
"oh fuckk yeahhh, just like that" he moans, rolling over and falling onto his back beside you, rubbing his dick raw. He pumps himself shallowly, milking himself for all that he's worth, his breathing getting slower, sighs of contentment falling from his lips.
Fuck. That was so good.
He looks over at your mess of a body and quickly gets into action, getting dressed haphazardly and adjusting your clothes while he tries his best to clean every drop of cum from your skin and clothes.
The next morning when you whine about a headache, he pretends to be worried, and when you hiss in pain, telling him that there's a painful redness in your inner thighs, he tells you that it might be from your sheets rubbing against your soft skin, and that you should probably buy new ones.
If his dick twitches as he remembers rutting in between your flesh like an animal in heat, that's between him and God
Jay is thoroughly convinced that he's losing his goddamn mind.
With each passing moment, He can feel himself descending into madness.
Nothing feels good, nothing feels worth it, time thoroughly stops if he's not constantly touching you or moping around you.
After that night, he did not get another opportunity to have you alone, and it was promptly causing havoc in his brain. It was fucking him up from the inside.
He wonders if you notice the lack of proximity between your bodies every time you both hang out together lately. But if you do notice the small lingering touches he leaves on your skin here and there, you don't mention it.
"fuck, j-just shut the fuck up" he growls, pushing the woman's head further into the pillows while he continues to plow her from behind.
Ever since he got a taste of you, Jay has found it harder and harder to find pleasure in anything or anyone else. He fucks and fucks but deep down, he knows that no pussy can ever feel like yours.
The cunt wrapped around him is warm and wet, it feels good, making hot pleasure run across his abdomen, but every time he feels his high approaching, the glaring realization that this isn't you underneath him, hits him hard. Fuck.
Jay grits his teeth and closes his eyes, remembering the taste of your soft lips on his, reminiscing the addicting feel of your nipples pressing into his hard chest; his hips pick up pace. He's fucking the woman underneath him brutally, her screams echo in the entire room, her body flailing to get out of his grasp; but Jay can't seem to stop.
"G-gah God just-take it" He groans, hissing in relief when the knot in his stomach snaps, his hips plowing at an animalistic pace, riding his high against the warm pussy in which he's buried.
"fuck fuck fuck" He chants, sighing in hot pleasure, eventually loosening his grip on the slut's body. As soon as he does tho, she pushes him off of herself, turning to him with tears streaming down her red face.
"You're a fucking animal you know?" She spits, sniffing and sobbing as she limps to her feet, his cum running down one of her legs. She collects her clothes and throws a dirty look over her shoulder towards him before she leaves.
Jay scoffs and runs an exasperated hand over his sweaty face. Refusing to acknowledge the elephant in the room. All that talk and she didn’t even satisfy his dick.
What the fuck is happening to him? This type of aggression isn't typical of him and yet, he can't seem to control his emotions in the heat of the moment.
Before he can get immersed too deep into his self reflection, his phone rings, your face glowing like an angel on his lock screen.
You. The bane of his existence.
His dick twitches as he swipes right.
"Jongieee" you squeal, going on a tangent about your eye contact with heeseung across the hallway. The visible vein in jay's forehead throbs, as if all the blood's being pumped through that one particular artery in order to give him the strength to cope.
He's going to fuck heeseung's pretty face up. The rage that fills him up at the thought of another man touching you is insurmountable. It wasn't always like this. But somewhere in the middle of your budding friendship, the dynamic shifted drastically.
At first it was a stupid crush, he thought he was in love with you. But he isn't so sure now. This isn't love, no. This is beyond love. A vile, dark version of it. This is an obscene obsession. Jay is fucking obsessed with you. The need to attain you weighs heavy on his conscience.
As he hears your voice, he focuses on the sweet melody and drowns out the words. This makes the throbbing in his dick return ten fold.
He wraps a shaky hand around his slick shaft and starts to stroke it. Real nice and slow. Just how he likes it. Just like he knows your small hands will do to him.
He bites on his lower lip to prevent any sounds from escaping, and he continues to jerk off to your voice. The veins running along his cock throb in his tight grip, the swollen tip squirting precum onto his moving palm.
"Hmm yeah? Tell me more" he whispers, hoping that you don't notice how breathy his voice sounds, or how pure lust drips from his panting breaths.
The slick squelchy sounds from his palm moving up and down his leaking length echo loudly in the room. A part of him wishes that you catch him in this filthy act, relishing in the surprised and scandalized gasp that would leave your lips when you realize what he is doing.
Fuck.
His hand picks up pace, his second orgasm getting closer and closer the more that your sweet voice rings in his ears.
"Jay?" you ask, obviously confused as to why he hasn't said a single thing yet.
Jay, on the other hand, mutes his side of the mic and groans loudly.
"fuck yeah baby, say my name" He whimpers, his hips thrusting up into his tight fist.
He's jerking himself furiously now, closer, closer, he can taste the sweet release at the tip of his tongue,
"Yeah, shit y/n, make me fucking cum" his mewl fades into a high pitched moan as he shoots thick strands of cum after cum into his own fist, watching with hooded eyes , how it spurts everywhere, his abs contracting at the immense force.
God you drive him batshit crazy.
He hangs up on you, ignoring your voice calling out to him, not trusting his own voice enough to talk to you like a normal person, right after he wanked off to you like a perverted freak.
He shoots a quick message to you in explanation tho, getting his cum all over his screen in the process.
"can't hear you, network issue I think. Call u later?"
Later when Jay lets the hot water of the shower run all over his spent body, his mind drifts off to you and the events of the last few months.
He needs to fuck this madness out of his system, he decides.
Maybe once he gets his dick inside of you, he might be able to get you out of his mind.
You look beautiful.
You always look beautiful, but something about the way that tight little red dress hugs your curves tonight has every man in the room salivating. You're like a piece of meat that's dangling in front of a pack of hungry wolves. And Jay is sure that he's the hungriest of them all.
When you had called him that afternoon, your voice sweet and pleading, begging him to accompany you to yeonjun's party, he didn't know what it would entail.
"Please, please come with me Jay, you know it's my best chance at getting heeseung to notice me" your words had been whiny, travelling straight between his legs.
He had clenched his jaw and hummed in response, not having it in him to refuse your offer. As much as it enraged him that you would take another man's name when he was right there, he also knew that his time would come.
"I love youuu, you're the best" you had squealed, making his heart do weird flips inside his chest. Yeah, he was the best. And he was going to make sure that you knew it too by the end of the night.
He's sure he's drooling, eyes tethered to the way you grind your hips on the dance floor.
It's sexy, you're so fucking sexy. Your lips are stretched into a small smile, as if you know that all eyes are feasting on you. He loves how you thrive in it, loves how you're eating up all the attention.
What he doesn't appreciate tho, is the sight of heeseung's figure making his way towards you on the dance floor. Jay's body works faster than his brain, his nostrils flaring as he makes his way towards heeseung, red hot rage propelling him forward.
Sweat trickles down the valley of your breasts and the air feels stuffy. You need a drink. Right now.
You're mildly disappointed when you don't find heeseung anywhere in sight, all that show that you put on, and for nothing?
You sigh dramatically and make your way to the kitchen, recognizing jay's hunched over figure in the corner, doing God knows what.
"Jay? " you call out to him. His figure freezes upon hearing your voice, he turns his head to meet your eyes and shoves his hand inside his pocket without a second's delay. His behavior makes you furrow your brows "what?" you ask him incredulously. Why was he behaving like a child who'd been caught sneaking where he shouldn't be sneaking.
He shrugs his shoulders and turns fully to face your approaching form.
Jay knows that he's staring, but he just can't help it. Not tonight.
You pick up the drink from the counter and swirl it, looking around the kitchen, scrunching up your nose adorably at the intense make out session near the sink.
Jay follows your line of vision and almost groans. Did you have any idea, how badly he wanted to recreate that scene with you.
"Where's heeseung?" you question, your curious eyes looking back at him.
Jay hopes you don't notice the way his jaw immediately locks up, his mood dampening at another man’s name. Jay likes you best when you’re calling his name, he decides.
"He left" He quips, reaching for a drink with his free hand that isn't buried inside his pocket in a meticulous manner.
You look at him heatedly, and Jay sighs.
"He left, or you made him?" your voice is angry, irritated when you ask him that, and Jay feels his own anger flare up at your tone.
Not wanting to cause a scene, he grabs your hand and drags you inside the bathroom instead, grateful when you don't resist.
The way you free your wrist from his grasp to create some distance between you two, is what he doesn't like.
"What did you do?" You demand, folding your hands across your chest, pushing your boobs up in the process. Jay's eyes flicker down to your beauties and the heat in his head travels all the way down to his groin. He needs to have you, now.
You watch in horror as Jay retrieves his hand from the pocket of his pants. The cuts and bruises all over his knuckles make you gasp. Your hands fall to your sides and you look up into his eyes disbelievingly.
"I-w-why? Jay? What the fuck is wrong with you?" you ask, disbelief and anger making way for concern.
"You! you are what's fucking wrong with me!" Jay bellows and it makes you flinch, terror filling up your viens , because this isn't your Jay. Your Jay was calm, and so, so quiet.
Raging eyes look into yours as he stalks towards you. You don't see it coming when he cups your cheek in his hands and thrusts his tongue inside your mouth. Your hands come up to bang against his chest but it only propels him to pull you further into his chest. Fuck, it feels so fucking good when you move against him.
You whine while his tongue tastes your hot mouth hungrily, forcing it deep inside the crevices of your cavity.
Mustering up all the strength that's left in your body, you push him away, heaving heavy breaths as he stumbles back by a few steps.
Your watery eyes look at him in horror and disbelief, refusing to believe that your best friend just forced himself upon you.
"You're insane" you whisper, your voice hauntingly quiet.
He pulls your body closer to himself and kisses you again, diving into your taste desperately "for you, so fucking crazy for you" he murmurs between kisses, continuing to make out with you, making a mess at how forcefully he sucks your tongue into his mouth.
You hit against his chest, thrashing your body in his hold. He pulls back a little and rests his forehead against yours, his eyes are crazed as they look into yours. A string of saliva connects your mouth to his famished one.
"Let me fuck you" He pants.
His words hit you like a slap across the face. What the fuck.
Your head feels dizzy, too much was happening for you to process. Using all the force you could, you push him away from you again.
"Stop acting like this jay!" you cry, just wanting your best friend back. But from the looks of it, he's nowhere in sight.
No, no, no. This can't be happening to you
"Come on, you know you want this" Jay hisses, malice dripping from his eyes.
Your lips wobble and you can do nothing but shake your head, it lolls on your neck lifelessly. You want to say something, but words feel foreign, as if not knowing how to bend your tongue to make the syllables sound quite right.
The bathroom is a tight space, not much expanse for you to run or hide. You see the door from your peripheral and it gives you some hope. If you can get the door to open up in time, you can scream. Maybe someone might hear you through the bass boosted music thrumming in the house.
You stumble back a few more steps but before you can stretch your hand towards the bathroom door, he pounces on you, a sharp whoosh leaving your mouth as your back thumps against the wall behind. He buries his nose inside the crook of your neck, gliding it's slope across the expanse of your soft skin, humming in desire.
His hands run all over your body, cupping your boobs through your dress, making you mewl as he twists your nipples painfully.
"it's about time we had sex baby" he whispers in your ear, biting and nibbling on your earlobe sensually.
"J-jay p-please think about this" you plead, your voice small and frightened, tremors covering your entire figure when he starts to unbuckle his jeans impatiently.
"Think? Oh sweetheart, you have no idea how much I've thought about this do you? " His eyes stay on yours, maintaining eye contact while his fingers unzip his pants. Jay had forgone boxers, too impatient to take his time undressing. His sole purpose was to get his dick inside your stomach tonight.
"This is all I've been thinking about for the past year baby, your cute little cunt is all i fucking think about" He grits.
His dick plops out of his pants, hitting his abdomen, smearing a blob of precum on his happy trail. Your eyes widen and water further, little sobs start to wrack your body. Your eyes take in the view of his uncut cock, curving upwards in sexual need.
"Too big?” he asks, tone mocking your deer caught in the headlights expression, his body presses closer to yours while he works to slide your tight little dress up your thighs, exposing your panty clad pussy to his eyes , fuck yeah.
“I'll make it fit" he groans, running his fingers over your vulva, pinching your clit in the process. You sob and start flailing in his hold, your fists coming up to hit against his chest.
"Jay please, please,no" your voice shakes urgently when he tears your sheer panties apart in pieces, his tongue coming out to lick over his dry lips.his eyes are wide and unseeing, they terrify you.
"Fuck, this pussy has been driving me fucking crazy" he pants, taking a hold of his dick and running it's bulbous head along your slit, coating it in his precum. His eyes come up to momentarily look in your terrified ones and he bites his lower lip, gaze famished and hungry, drinking up all your reactions.
He pops his head in between your silky folds and his knees buckle at the delicious feeling, his free hand coming up to rest against the wall behind you, as he cages you against it.
"fuck, you're tight, gonna have a field day forcing myself inside" he tuts, amused.
His words make you sob, an inexplicable heat spreading across your pelvis when he bullies more of his throbbing shaft inside, satisfied moans leaving his mouth in stuttering gasps.
He wraps your leg around his waist and without warning, buries himself inside your cunt in one harsh thrust, doubling over in pleasure.
"Oh fuck yeah baby, shit" He growls, resting his forehead against yours, his hot breaths falling on your wet cheeks.
You wail and scream but Jay doesn't stop moving, your small fists do nothing to deter his movements, his hips starting to pick up pace instead. His brows furrow in pleasure and he moans into your mouth, urging you to cry more as his cock pumps deep inside your guts.
"Tight little slut, this is what you fucking wanted didn't you? Fucking cock tease" he hisses, throwing his head back in extreme ecstasy, pounding his hips rapidly into yours. The feeling of your nails scratching the skin of his neck makes him groan in pleasure.
"Yeah baby, you wanna fight? let's fucking fight like this" He whispers silkily, grabbing your ass in his big palms, groping your soft flesh painfully, digging his own nails into it.
"h-hurts so much Jay, stop please, p-please" you sob, tears blurring your vision, the stretch from his cock being too much for your tiny little pussy. The way your nails dig into his shoulders, you're sure that if he was naked, you would break his skin.
Jay scoffs and presses your body further into the wall, snapping his hips faster into yours, fucking desperately into your wet, hot cunt.
"Yeah? But your cunt is sucking me in baby, looks like you like what we're doing"
You throw your head back at his words, unable to stop your hips from gyrating against his thrusts. Pleasure was starting to cloud your mind.
"fucking finally, feels so good to be buried in this pussy, should have forced myself in it a long time ago" He pants, taking your lower lip in his mouth while he increases the intensity of his rut. You moan into his mouth when he digs his teeth in your plump flesh, his actions barbaric.
The squelching sounds start filling up the small cubicle, the filthiness of the whole act only working to fuel your desire more.
Before you can get submerged in pleasure tho, Jay pulls out of you with an embarrassing ‘plop’ and forces you to your knees instead; ignoring how you hiss in pain at the feeling of the rough tiles scraping against your bare knees.
He penetrates your mouth with his cock and starts fucking, plowing it like it's your cunt, moaning and groaning in pure pleasure.
You dig your nails into his thighs but he ignores your pleas to breathe, pushing your head further against the wall instead. He digs his fingers in your hairs and grinds his hips into your plump mouth, his dick hitting the back of your throat mercilessly.
"God yeah, just like that, jerked off so much to you baby, suck my dick like you fucking mean it" His whiny voice travels straight between your legs and you moan. The vibrations of your throat make his dick twitch inside your mouth and he pulls out with a groan.
He rubs his cock head against your lips and buries himself to the hilt inside your throat again, pressing your nose against his pubes while his cum filled balls slap against your chin.
The lack of gagging makes him chuckle in disbelief “no fucking gag reflex, god your throat is just like a fucking cunt”.you mewl and rub your thighs together at his words.
"Fucking hell, should have done this before, we could have been fucking so much" he grouches, kneeling down and forcing your body onto the floor. It's a tight fit, but jay doesn't seem to care. He folds your body in half and thrusts inside your pussy again. His movements are so impatient and hurried, you aren't used to being desired this way.
"mhmnm yeah, pussy feels so good" He growls, his hold tightening further around your legs that rest against his shoulders and he starts to rut into your tight heat again. This time it's more desperate, downright filthy. He's panting on your face, letting a string of saliva drip from his mouth into yours when he sees your mouth open in a silent scream. You choke on it and he laughs, condescending, hissing through gritted teeth.
"Get used to this baby, we're gonna be fucking so much after tonight, gonna keep my cock buried in your fuck hole" he groans, bullying his cock into your hole over and over again.
You wrap your arms around his neck and start grinding into him, staring back into his eyes to let him know that you want this.
His eyes widen upon feeling your hips thrusting upwards, humping his cock, hot pleasure running down his spine.
"Yeah baby? fuck, you like this? fucking slut, you did all of that on purpose didn't you? wanted to drive me fucking crazy for this pussy?"
You nod in pleasure, all rational thoughts leaving your mind. All you know is, that his dick feels a little too good when it rams against your cervix.
You are close, way too close, your body convulsing in carnal lust as your orgasm washes over you all of a sudden.
Moan after moan of his name falling from your red bitten lips.
He laughs as he feels your cum trickle down his thighs, drenching his balls in your juices.
"fucking slut" He moans, throwing his head back as he enjoys the clenching of your throbbing cunt on his leaking shaft.
He feels himself close to his high, but he doesn't want this to end. Not yet.
Jay pulls out and rests his back against the wall, patting his thigh for your spent figure as you lie on the floor.
"Come sit on it " He breaths, his voice strained due to how much effort it takes for him to not start jerking off to the sight of your sticky cum running between your pussy lips.
So fucking hot. He wants to obliterate your pussy.
He watches with hooded eyes as you get up on your knees and crawl towards him, eyes trailing down to his hard dick. Jay groans at your hungry gaze, fuck yeah. You want him. You want his dick.
This singular thought forces him to wrap his palm around his leaking prick. Your eyes widen and a small mewl escapes your lips as you watch him stroke his length slowly, wet sounds resonating between the space between your hot bodies.
Jay bites on his lower lip and starts to stroke faster "yeah you like this? This is how I jerked off to your thoughts baby, rubbed my dick raw every night, imagining it was your pussy instead of my fucking hand" He pants, cupping his balls with his other hand, the double stimulation driving him insane.
The sight in front of you is so lewd, it makes your pussy drip. The way his pants are not all the way off, resting against his ankles, hanging on him unceremoniously is so hot, your cunt clenches around nothing.
Without a single thought, you close the gap between your bodies, straddling his lap while you maintain a hungry eye contact with him. He looks famished as he watches you replace his palms with yours, tugging on his throbbing cock a few more times before you guide it to your wet hole.
"Yeah baby put it in, come on, put my dick inside" He groans, his hands coming up to wrap around your waist, pulling you down onto his length impatiently. You both let out gasps of pleasure when his dick slips inside, buried in you balls deep.
"f-fuck" you moan and he hums, throwing his head back in pleasure. The itch in your pussy starts to intensify and your hips start moving on their own, looking a way to satisfy it.
"Yeah, ride it, ride it like you fucking want it" he moans, thrusting up into your hole. You gasp and hold onto his shoulders, slamming yourself up and down on his shaft. The sex feels too good. So hot and so messy. It makes you wonder why you were resisting it in the first place.
Your hot, sweaty bodies rutt against one another desperately, feeling your highs approaching at a rapid pace.
"Bounce on it baby, come on, make me cum, wanna fill this pussy up" He pants, digging his nails into your thighs as he begins thrusting up at a rapid pace. You squeal at the sudden action but bury your face inside the crook of his neck in pleasure. Too good. Fuck it's starting to get too hot.
Desperate gasps escape his lips when your cunt starts clenching around him again, he's close, so close. Fuck yeah. He can’t believe he is finally gonna cum in your cunt, and just the thought of it was enough to make the knot in his stomach snap.
"Just like that, oh yeah, oh fuckkkkkk" he growls, humping upwards as he holds your body down and squirts his cum into your womb, thrusting rapidly into your swollen pussy, making you cum again.
You moan and whine when he doesn't stop moving, his hips pick up pace without break and your head gets dizzy. The over-stimulation getting to your head.
"can't stop fucking, let's do it again yeah? let me pound this cunt again I'm so fucking hard"
Before you can protest, he is flipping you around, pressing your body against the bathroom floor, your boobs squished against the cold tiles. The tiles were so dirty, probably because of the number of couples before you both, who couldn't wait to get down and dirty. You wonder, how many people fucked in this cubicle before you, and your back arches on its own. You feel his body mounting you and he envelops your sweaty body with his meaty arms.
You gasp upon feeling his thumb prodding at your asshole, dipping in and out experimentally.
"Jay not there please please I've never-" your begging gets cut off with a shrill scream as his entire head bullies inside your sphincter.
Jay's eyes roll back in pleasure and he moans, the sound so pornographic that it makes hot lust run through your womb.
"fucking hell baby, it's tighter than your pussy, gonna fuck it so hard"
Your legs flail but Jay doesn’t stop dicking you down, he thrusts his entire length inside your virgin hole and groans in ecstasy, it is the tightest hole he's ever been buried in. His hips start moving, plowing into you at a rapid pace. He puffs and huffs like a dog in heat, the stimulation around his dick pushing him closer to the edge again. Your hole stays tight as a clamp around his meat.
You, on the other hand, wail in pleasure mixed with pain. It hurts, it hurts but God does it hurt so good. His balls slap against your ass cheeks painfully.
Skin slapping sounds fill up the bathroom and you push your ass back against his dick, moaning and bucking back, needing it deeper inside your stomach.
"That's right baby, fuck back on me, gonna cum so hard again" His plaintive groans indicate his arousal, lust drips from the frantic movements of his hips.
He thrusts inside you wantonly, his desire to nut overpowering all other senses.
The desperate rut and stimulation of your hole sends you tumbling over another orgasm, your legs quivering as you come with a pleasured moan, chanting his name in a prayer.
The tight clamping of your two sphincter muscles on his fully engorge cock send jay over the line. He bellows loudly, cursing and grunting as spurt after spurt of his pent-up sperm paint the inside of your fuck hole
Finally satiated, Jay falls onto your limp body, kissing your earlobe, mumbling lazily about how he's gonna fuck you again and again till he erases heeseung's name from the forefront of your mind.
You don't tell him that there is no heeseung anymore. You don't tell him how every cell of your body only craves his touch now, aching to be plowed by his dick alone.
#enhypen hard thoughts#enhypen#enhypen smut#enhypen hard headcanons#enhypen hard hours#enha#jay smut#park jay smut#jay enhypen smut#jay enhypen#ehypen scenarios#enhypen imagines#enhypen jay smut#park jongseong
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silly season - lando norris
pairing: lando norris x girlfriend!reader
warnings: innuendos
summary: fans get a glimpse into your relationship on a stream
You walk into Lando’s gaming room, a cup of hot chocolate topped with tiny marshmallows in hand. His back is to you, headphones clamped over his head, eyes focused on the screen. Lando is always in his element when he's streaming — it’s a joy to see. But today, you’ve been the one tasked with interrupting him. Not that you mind, of course.
“Got your hot chocolate, sweetheart,” you startle him, setting the cup down beside him on the desk. You look at the screen, recognizing the familiar game of F1 2023. “Who’s winning?”
“Verstappen. But it’s just a virtual race,” Lando chuckles without taking his eyes off the screen.
“Ah, so you admit you’re losing?” You tease, earning a playful glare. You laugh at his mock annoyance, then start to saunter out of the room.
Before you can make your exit, however, Lando grabs your wrist, pulling you back. “Wait, I need you.”
You spin around, your eyebrows raised in surprise. His words hang in the air, and for a moment, a suggestive smirk plays on your lips. “Really, Lando? On a live stream?”
His cheeks flush as he quickly shakes his head, his laughter joining yours. “Not like that, you minx! I need you to stay here and distract the competition with your terrible driving.”
“Ah, so that's how it is,” you retort, grinning at his playful sidestep. “I’m your secret weapon now, am I?”
With a chuckle, he grabs the spare controller, throwing it to you. “Only the best for Team Norris.”
“Well then, prepare to lose!”
What you don’t realize is that Lando’s stream is live, and all his fans are eagerly watching the banter unfold.
Lando chuckles, setting up the second controller. “Oh, we’ll see about that.”
The race starts and immediately, it’s a comedy of errors. You’re not very good at the game to say the least and you crash into a wall within the first thirty seconds.
“Hmm, you do know the point is to avoid the walls, right?” Lando teases, his fingers moving deftly over the buttons of his controller.
You shoot him a feigned glare, and he laughs, his attention fixed on the screen as he smoothly overtakes one of the opposing cars. “Maybe you should stick to delivering hot chocolate, love.”
“No way,” you say stubbornly. “I’m going to beat you at your own game, Norris.”
“Ah, spoken like a true underdog!” He laughs, and the sound of it makes you grin, even as your car crashes into another wall.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the screen, Lando’s fans are loving every moment. Their favorite F1 driver showing his fun side, coupled with your charming wit, is an unbeatable combination.
The chat box fills with amused comments:
‘OMG, she’s hilarious!’ ‘Lando, you’re losing your touch!’ ‘Can we have her on every stream?’
Laughing and teasing each other, you keep trying to maneuver your car with minimal success. You playfully jab at Lando’s concentration, saying, “Hey, aren’t you supposed to be good at this?”
“I am good!” he protests, “Just not when you’re trying to distract me.”
“Oh, am I a distraction, Norris?” you ask, raising your eyebrows suggestively. “Is it because I make your gear stick shift?” The playful innuendo makes Lando choke on his laugh.
“A very attractive distraction, yes,” he responds, and it’s your turn to blush.
The comments explode:
‘Did he just—‘ ‘They are too cute!’ ‘I can’t even.’
Eventually, Lando wins the game, but not without a few crashes of his own. As you watch the virtual champagne spraying over his character, you say, “Well, you won. But I’d like to see you do this in real life.”
Without missing a beat, Lando responds, “What, win a race or put up with you?”
“You better keep it clean on the track, Norris,” you retort, giving him a sly wink. “Because the way you’re driving here, you won’t be able to handle the curves!”
You gasp dramatically when he laughs at your comment. “Lando Norris! I’ll have you know I’m a delight to put up with.”
He laughs, pulling you into a hug. “Yes, you are. You’re my favorite distraction.”
With that, Lando ends the stream, laughing at the barrage of comments from his fans. You sit there with him, sharing in his laughter, completely oblivious to the fact that you were just part of an international live stream.
But you don’t care. All that matters to you in that moment is Lando’s laughter, the warmth of his arm around you, and the joy of sharing these simple, perfect moments with him. And if his fans loved it too, well, that was just an added bonus.
#f1 imagine#lando norris imagine#f1 x reader#lando norris x reader#f1 x you#lando norris x you#f1#lando norris#ln4#f1 fic#lando norris fic#f1 fluff#lando norris fluff#f1 fanfic#lando norris fanfic#f1 blurb#lando norris blurb#f1 fanfiction#f1 one shot#f1 drabble#mclaren#f1 fandom#formula 1#f1blr
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Type of Boyfriends | Dream Headcanon #15
Headcanon: Type of Boyfriends
Genre: Fluff, a little angsty in some parts
Warnings: light mentions of anxiety and feeling insecure
Word Count: ~2.7k
Author's Note: I was actually planning on writing something for Haechan today. But I had the content for this headcanon pre-planned for quite some time now, so I just thought it would be good to actually write it. Also, I haven't been making a lot of group posts lately—so this is me making up for it lol. I know this idea isn't super original, but I wanted to make my version of it. I'm sorry if the scenarios are written badly, but I still thank you for reading ^ ^
~ ~ ~
mark
Mark is the type of boyfriend who feels like your best friend but with the added warmth of kisses and hugs. He loves taking you on spontaneous midnight drives, where carpool karaoke becomes your shared stage, belting out your favorite tunes together. Music is a big part of your relationship, with shared Spotify playlists that reflect your combined tastes and moments. Whenever you’re feeling down, he grabs his guitar and serenades you with Bruno Mars or Day6 songs, lifting your spirits with his husky yet gentle voice. He’s also the type of boyfriend who writes songs about you, with lyrics so touching they bring you to tears.
He’s the type of boyfriend who attempts to cook for you but ultimately results in a comedy of errors. But they always end in laughter as you step in to save the kitchen from further disaster. His cooking skills would likely improve over time, with your guidance. You’d patiently be teaching him the proper way to cut vegetables or how much seasoning should be put in a dish. But he’s the type of boyfriend to lose focus because he keeps getting distracted by how pretty you look. And then you’d blush profusely when you caught his gaze and scold him for not listening.
He’s the type of boyfriend to give you bone-crushing hugs whenever he finds something you did cute. He especially does this when you get annoyed at him for something, finding the furrow of your brows and pouty lips to be so adorable. He’s the type to go in for long kisses after being away from you for a long time. His career often keeps him away, leaving him longing for the moments he can be with you. He’s the type of boyfriend to give kisses that are so warm and tender, filled with a depth of emotion that speaks volumes about how much he cherishes you. Each kiss feels like a promise, a reassurance that no matter how far apart you are, his heart is always with you.
He’s the type of boyfriend who would geek out with you over shared interests, like Spiderman. Whether it's discussing the latest movie or comic book, these moments of shared enthusiasm bring you even closer. He’s the type of boyfriend who would watch k-dramas with you and enjoy ranting with you about the characters. These shared experiences, filled with laughter, debates, and discussions deepen your bond and create fond memories to look back on.
All in all, Mark is the type of boyfriend who is a unique blend of friendship, romance, and genuine affection that makes him the perfect partner, someone who brings joy, music, and a sense of adventure into your life.
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renjun
Renjun is the type of boyfriend to be motherly at times with how attentive and caring he is. He’s always looking after you in subtle ways, like telling you the weather beforehand so you know to wear a jacket before your date. When you share your insecurities with him, he responds by creating beautiful paintings or drawings of you, turning your worries into art. He's also the type to blush when you compliment him but cleverly turns the praise back on you, making you feel just as flustered.
He’s the type of boyfriend who loves planning and sharing things with you, like maintaining a shared Pinterest board of matching couple outfits you both should try. He’s the type to enjoy doing your skincare routines together during sleepovers, transforming these moments into intimate bonding experiences. He has a great sense of style and is the type of boyfriend who helps put together your outfits, and even learns how to style your hair to make sure you feel confident and beautiful. He’s also the type of boyfriend to patiently untangle your earphones when you get frustrated trying to do it yourself.
He’s the type of boyfriend to be deeply empathetic and share his concerns with you, valuing open communication in your relationship. He’s not afraid to show his emotions, and he tears up when he hears about your hard times, feeling your pain as his own. His thoughtful nature ensures you always feel understood and supported. When he’s the one dealing with hardships, he appreciates you just being there to hug him and talk him through his thoughts. No matter what’s troubling him, your presence alone makes him feel a little better.
He’s the type of boyfriend who may not be as physically affectionate as the other members. Though he doesn't kiss you often, it’s always behind closed doors when he does. Similar to Mark, he’s the type of boyfriend whose kisses are long, deep, and sincere, filled with unspoken affection and love. But he’s also the type of boyfriend to surprise you with pecks to the lips when he finds you cute.
Ultimately, Renjun is the type of boyfriend who truly cares for you in every way, creating a relationship built on mutual respect, understanding, and deep emotional connection. He doesn’t need to say anything for you to know how much he loves you, you can just feel it whenever you look at him.
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Jeno is the type of boyfriend who is the perfect balance between a strong, masculine presence and a soft, affectionate soul in your relationship. He’s the type to exude a protective aura that envelops you where you go. When you're out together, his hand naturally finds its place on your back or waist, ensuring your safety and comfort. He's attentive to small details like positioning you on his left side, away from the street, and readily offering his jacket when the weather turns chilly. These gestures not only showcase his protective instincts but also his possessive side, reminding you and others that you’re his.
He’s the type of boyfriend to keep you on your toes with how affectionate he can be. You never truly know what to expect from him. Sometimes, he surprises you with kisses so deeply passionate that they leave you breathless. Yet, in quieter moments, he transforms into a cuddly sweetheart, speaking in an endearing aegyo voice that melts your heart. His spontaneity and ability to switch between these sides of himself add excitement and tenderness to your relationship.
He’s the type of boyfriend who enjoys taking you on hiking dates, emphasizing how it’s good for your health. However, if you get tired by the end of it, he's quick to offer you a piggyback ride on the journey back, effortlessly blending his strength with his nurturing nature. He’s also the type of boyfriend to surprise you by cleaning the apartment and preparing a warm meal for you after a long day of school or work. His thoughtfulness shines through in these acts of service, making you feel cherished and loved in practical ways.
He’s the type of boyfriend to be a compassionate listener who values your thoughts and feelings deeply. When you share your concerns or discuss something that's bothering you, he listens intently, his touch gentle as he traces comforting patterns on your hand. His ability to offer silent support and understanding strengthens your bond, creating a safe space where you can be vulnerable and open with each other.
In essence, Jeno is the type of boyfriend who is a partner that fills your life with love and security. Being with him will make you feel like you’re stuck in the honeymoon phase forever.
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haechan
Haechan is the type of boyfriend who thrives on affection, often expressing his neediness in the sweetest ways. He’s the type to never let you leave without a goodbye kiss, ensuring every parting moment is filled with warmth and connection. Whether in public or private, he shamelessly snuggles into you, finding comfort and security in your presence. He is the type to be playfully insistent on using pet names like "baby," "sunflower," or "handsome." He brightens up when you call him by his nickname "Hyuck," revealing his softer, more vulnerable side that's reserved just for you.
He’s the type of boyfriend to enjoy teasing and banter, but knows when to set aside the jokes and be serious, especially when it matters the most to you. He’s the type to notice if something is upsetting you, even in a group of people. And he’d go out of his way to check on you to make sure everything was okay. He’s also the type of boyfriend to playfully beg you to cook his favorite dishes like kimchi jjigae, which you almost always give in to.
He’s the type of boyfriend who includes you in his world, whether it’s letting you sit in his lap while he games on his PC or charming you with aegyo when he wants a kiss. Even during your toughest moments, his infectious humor never fails to make you laugh or smile. But on a more serious side, he’s the type of boyfriend who gets overwhelmed by how strong his feelings are for you. Just thinking about how much he loves you is enough to make him tear up.
At the end of the day, Haechan is the type of boyfriend who is not afraid to be playful, and affectionate, and show how deep his feelings are for you. His ability to balance lighthearted moments with genuine sincerity makes every day with him an adventure filled with laughter, love, and heartfelt connections.
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jaemin
Jaemin is the type of boyfriend who is a walking green flag, embodying all the qualities of a loving and considerate partner. He never holds back his affection, constantly showering you with hugs and kisses, and always maintaining some form of physical connection, whether it’s hand-holding or resting a hand on your knee. He’s the type of boyfriend to send daily texts to check up on you if he’s at work, showing his continuous care and concern for your well-being. He’s also the type to scold you for skipping meals or getting sick, even when he does the same sometimes.
He’s the type of boyfriend to shamelessly flirt with you, making you blush with his playful comments and cheeky smirks when he catches you staring at him from across the room. He’s the type to talk about your future together during cuddle sessions, sharing your dreams of getting married and having kids. Beyond physical touches and sweet words, he’s the type of boyfriend who loves to cook for you whenever he can, and he gets equally happy when you cook for him, appreciating every gesture of care you show.
He’s the type of boyfriend who is generally easygoing, though he has his moments of jealousy. He gets laughably envious when you give more attention to his cats than him or when you rave about how Jeno looked on stage. These moments of jealousy are never overbearing but rather endearing, showing how much he values your attention and affection. And he loves that you always reassure him that your heart belongs to him.
He’s the type of boyfriend to take countless photos of you on your dates. Even if you don’t love having your photo taken, he just can’t resist capturing your beauty. Besides, he insists it's for the memories to look back on when you two are old and fray. He’s the type to have his phone gallery filled with pictures of you, and he proudly shows them to his members from time to time. While you could point out all your flaws in one picture, Jaemin never even looked at them. No matter how insecure you might be, he’s the type of boyfriend to make you feel pretty.
Simply put, Jaemin is the type of boyfriend who is practically perfect with his unwavering support and daily reminders of his love. Being in a relationship with him is nurturing, fun, and filled with dreams for the future.
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chenle
Chenle is the type of boyfriend who can be really annoying at times, but you can’t help but love him for it. He loves to joke around and make you laugh, especially when you're feeling down. When he does something that annoys you, he’s quick to make it up with a lot of hugs, using affection to win you over. Most of the time, you end up giving into his silliness and laughing with him.
He’s the type of boyfriend to buy gifts for you quite often, something you kind of had to get used to. He’s the type to surprise you with things he’s seen you admiring online or at a store. Even if you scold him for not saving his money or spending it more wisely, Chenle insists that as your boyfriend, it’s part of his job to spoil you.
He’s also the type of boyfriend to share his passions with you, whether it’s taking you to see a Warrior’s game or having you watch and cheer him on as he plays basketball. His excitement for these activities becomes even more meaningful when you join in, creating shared experiences that deepen your bond. He’s also the type of boyfriend who enjoys traveling and exploring new places with you. He loves taking you out, whether it’s to explore the rural areas of Korea to eat gukbap or book a surprise trip to Shanghai. His spontaneous nature keeps your relationship exciting and full of adventure, with each trip creating cherished memories.
He’s the type of boyfriend who regularly gushes to you about how cute the members are, but gets all shy when you also call him cute. He’s also the type to feel a little betrayed when his dog, Daegal, likes you more than him. However, he can never be sulky for long because he can’t really blame her. And he admires how you always make sure his daughter runs back into his arms.
Altogether, Chenle is the type of boyfriend to keep your life vibrant and full of love with his playfulness, generosity, and genuine care. Although he drives you crazy at times, he teaches you how to have fun and live in the present.
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jisung
Jisung is the type of boyfriend who is super shy in the beginning but gradually becomes more comfortable and open with time. He’s the type to hide behind your back or bury his face in your shirt when he gets embarrassed about something. He’s the type of boyfriend who also loves being taller than you, not in a teasing way, but because it makes him feel more protective. He secretly loves it when you compare the size of your hands, although he blushes every time you do it.
He’s the type of boyfriend to ramble about his curiosity and interests to you. He enjoys talking about the wonders of space and aliens, letting you into his fascinating world of thoughts. He also loves talking about things like MBTI with you and finds joy in learning about yourselves together. Sometimes, he even rants about his debates with Chenle, showcasing his playful and thoughtful side.
He’s also the type of boyfriend to have a lot of serious conversations with you, usually reserved for late nights. He’s the type to lay his head in your lap as he shares what is on his mind. The gentle stroking of your fingers through his hair helps him feel calm and at ease. Sometimes he doesn't even need to say anything, for your open arms provide all the comfort he needs. He’s the type of boyfriend who loves when you hug him, often calming down when anxious thoughts run through his head. Cuddles are even better, especially when you get to fall asleep in each other’s arms, feeling completely safe and loved.
He’s the type of boyfriend who can be quite sentimental, especially when he’s on tour. He misses you deeply and has been known to cry when he thinks about how much he misses you. These moments highlight his deep emotional connection and attachment to you. He’s also the type to feel incredibly touched when you do simple things like cooking for him or surprising him with bunggeobang on a cold day, appreciating the warmth and love you bring into his life.
Over time, Jisung is the type of boyfriend you can build a deep, emotionally mature relationship. Even if he might be the youngest in his group, his maturity shines when he’s with you. He evolves into a loving and thoughtful boyfriend who cherishes every moment with you.
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previous masterlist -> current masterlist
#nct dream#nctzen#kpop#czennie#nct dream imagines#nct dream fluff#nct dream scenarios#nct dream headcanons#nct dream x reader#7dream#7dream headcanons#7dream scenarios#mark#renjun#jeno#haechan#jaemin#chenle#jisung
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KILLER!RAFE x BESTFRIEND!READER
WARNINGS .ᐟ murder, gore, dark comedy, anatomy innacuracies probably, angst?, insane continuity errors with dna evidence, rafe and reader shower together
NOTES .ᐟ i watched this movie called tragedy girls with my mom, and it inspired me to write this. just two bestfriends who love hate to kill together <3 sorry it gets a little rushed at the end. i mostly wrote it for the perimortem banter
"Rafe," you whined, looking down at the blood that had spurted from the random kook boy's neck wound right onto you. "You got blood on my new top," you huffed. "I specifically told you to avoid the jugular, so it didn't cause such a mess!"
"Well, why did you wear your new top to a fuckin' murder scene then, huh, princess?" he scoffed, his fingers flexing around the knife handle as he waved it around for emphasis, the deep red blood glistening under the warm yellow lights.
You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest. "Because I look hot," you said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Now, give me the stupid knife. You aren't even doing it right!" You held out your hand, your stance alone radiating attitude.
He looked at you, a mix of amusement and frustration dancing in his blue eyes. "And you think you can do better?" he sneered. "I mean, for fuck's sake, he's dead. What more do you want, huh?" He complained but nonetheless, did as you said, flipping the knife handle first as he handed it over.
You wrapped your fingers around the handle carefully, ignoring his exasperation as you hummed thoughtfully. "You're just so... unimaginative," you replied, your tone a bit condescending as you eyed the boy's body at Rafe's feet, clearly mulling something over.
Rafe watched you carefully, his arms crossed over his chest—a clear sign of his quickly growing irritation—as he leaned against the wall. "Unimaginative?" he repeated, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "What, are you gonna poetry read his fuckin' corpse or something?"
"Please," you scoffed, shooting him a look as you kneeled down beside the body. Your eyes sweeped over him thoughtfully, using the tip of the knife to brush a strand of hair from his face. "Stabbing is so 90s," you rolled your eyes. "It's not enough to just kill anymore. You have to be... creative," you explained, as if there was a section in Cosmo on being a teenage serial killer.
Rafe threw his hands up in the air, clearly exasperated. "Oh, it's not enough to just kill anymore, we have to be creative?" he parroted, his voice going up an octave to imitate you in an unflattering falsetto.
"Local boy found stabbed doesn't quite have the same ring as local boy found gutted, now, does it, Rafe?" You scoffed, shooting an annoyed glare his way. "It's all about the optics."
"Oh, it's all about the optics," Rafe mimicked again, finding your pretentiousness both amusing and frustrating. You were like those insufferable film bros but with murder.
"Will you stop repeating what I'm saying back to me in that condescending tone?" You stood back up, turning to face him and crossing your arms over your chest. You couldn't work with him being the world's douchiest parrot right in your ear.
"Or what, princess?" Rafe asked, his voice low and mocking. "You gonna time out and have a little temper tantrum because I'm not taking your murder 101 lecture seriously enough?" He pushed himself off the wall, his eyes never leaving yours as he stepped closer.
"I oughta gut you next, you asshole," you threatened, pointing the knife at him for good measure. Although, you both knew that you'd never actually hurt him.
"Oh, yeah? And who's gonna clean up that mess, huh?" He smirked, leaning in close so that his breath was hot against your face. "You can't even handle a little blood on your shirt without whining about it."
You rolled your eyes at his arrogance. He was completely insufferable and annoyingly hot. "Shut up," you retorted sharply, getting back down to your knees next to the boy. You put the knife down for a moment, deftly unbuttoning the buttons of the boy's shirt.
Rafe watched you work with mild interest, his eyebrows raised. "What are you doing now, giving him a post-mortem fashion show?" He asked, shaking his head in disbelief. "This is why I stick to stabbing."
You ignored his remark, picking the knife back up and stabbing into his sternum. Blood splattered onto your face, your jaw clenching as you used all your strength to drag the knife down his body, cutting him open from his chest to just below his belly button.
Rafe flinched slightly as blood went flying. "Jesus Christ, warn a guy next time," he grumbled, wiping a stray drop from his cheek. He watched you work, a grimace on his face. "Remind me never to piss you off,"
"You already do," you deadpanned, curling your fingers into his skin and prying the flaps open to reveal his internal organs. "Literally every day."
"Ha ha, very funny," Rafe said dryly, his gaze flicking to the organs spilling out of the boy's chest cavity. "What the fuck am I even looking at right now anyway?" He squinted and tilted his head, clearly trying to decipher what parts of the body he was seeing beneath all that blood.
"I don't fucking know. Do I look like a doctor to you?" You looked up at him, shrugging. It wasn't like you'd researched how to mutilate a body prior to this. You were just sort of winging it.
"You look like an insufferable know-it-all who thinks they're better than everyone else," he quipped, crouching down beside you and looking into the body. "Is that... a lung?" He asked uncertainly.
"Didn't I just say I don't know?" You asked sarcastically, giving him an 'are you fucking kidding me right now' look before turning back to peer into the mess of blood, guts, and organs. You didn't really have a plan beyond cutting the poor guy open.
"Well, this is just fuckin' great," Rafe sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I was perfectly fine with just slitting his throat and leaving him, but nooooo you had to get all creative and worry about the optics like some kind of psycho Van Gogh."
"Will you calm the fuck down," you groaned, using the back of your wrist to brush a strand of hair out of your face and smudging blood on your forehead in the process. "I can't focus with you whining in my ear."
"Me? Whining?" Rafe scoffed, his eyes widening in offense. "I'm not the one covered in blood and guts, playing amateur butcher here." He shook his head, looking at you like you were the world's biggest idiot.
"I told you. This shit will make better headlines," you defended. "In the wise words of Tiffany, stabbings went out with Bundy and Dahmer," you quoted, tilting your head in thought.
"Great, so now you're quoting fuckin' Bride of Chucky to me?" Rafe rubbed his temples, feeling a headache coming on. Leave it to you to overcomplicate something as simple as killing someone.
You grinned, looking over at him as he recalled the exact movie you quoted. "Aww, you remembered?" You had forced Rafe to watch a shit ton of horror movies over the course of your friendship, but you never really thought he was actually paying attention to them.
"How could I forget? You made me sit through every single one of those god-awful films, complete with your annoying play-by-play commentary," Rafe grumbled, but deep down, he loved how excited you got about movies. Your jokes and ramblings were the only thing that made half those movies worth watching.
You turned back to the corpse, letting out a heavy sigh as you sat back on your heels. "Should we just... leave him like this?" You grimaced, not really wanting to touch any of his organs.
"What, you're done now?" Rafe rolled his eyes, standing up and wiping his hands on his pants. "I thought you had some master plan to be the next Da Vinci of serial killers."
"Can you even name a Da Vinci painting?" You rolled your eyes, grabbing the knife and standing up, blood coating your clothes and skin. "Besides, I said we had to get creative. I never claimed to know what the fuck I was doing," you pointed out. Though, it was all semantics, really.
"Of course I can name a Da Vinci painting," Rafe huffed, though he couldn't actually remember any off the top of his head. "It's... uh... The Last Supper." He crossed his arms, glaring at you in annoyance. "And maybe the fuckin'... uh, who's that bitch with the brown hair? Oh, the Mona Lisa."
"You remembered The Last Supper before the fucking Mona Lisa—literally the most well known painting in history?" You asked incredulously, shaking your head in disbelief, having a normal conversation with him as if you weren't standing over a mutilated corpse.
"Who gives a shit about the Mona Lisa or The Last Supper for that matter," he scoffed, motioning to the dead body on the ground. "Now what the fuck are we gonna do with this guy, huh?"
You sighed, shrugging. "Fuck if I know," you looked from the corpse to him.
"Well, that's just great," Rafe said sarcastically. "We kill the guy, and now we have no idea what to do with the body. You're a real fuckin' genius, you know that?" He shook his head in exasperation.
"Okay, well, if you wanna get bitchy, technically, you're the one that actually killed him," you said stubbornly, crossing your arms over your chest in annoyance.
"Oh, because slashing him open and rearranging his insides was just so innocent?" Rafe retorted, mimicking your stance and crossing his arms.
"Okay, I never said that I was innocent," you defended yourself, gesturing around with the bloody knife as you spoke. "I just said I wasn't the one that killed him."
"Semantics, sweetheart," Rafe drawled, his eyes rolling in annoyance. "Either way, we're both fucked if the cops find this body. So, come up with a plan already." He sighed heavily, looking around the room, as if expecting a solution to magically appear.
"You come up with a plan," you fired back. Why did you have to be the one to fix this mess? You were both royally fucked if shit hit the fan, so why was he putting all the pressure on you?
"Because you're the one with the goddamn imagination," Rafe growled, jabbing a finger at you. "You're the one who wanted to get creative with killing him. So now you get to be creative with getting rid of the body, too."
"You really gonna keep throwing that in my face?" You asked, the tension in the room growing with each passion second. "I was just trying to make things more interesting!"
"Well, congratulations, you succeeded in making things interesting," Rafe spat, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Now we're up to our eyeballs in shit and you can't even come up with a basic fucking plan to dig us out."
"I have a plan, you dickhead," you shot back with a huff. "Just carry him to the bathroom," you ordered, motioning to the hallway with the bloodied knife.
Rafe's eyebrows shot up, disbelief written all over his face. "To the bathroom?" He echoed incredulously. "What the hell are we gonna do with him in there? Give him a bubble bath and sing him to sleep?" He threw his hands up in frustration.
"Just carry him to fucking bathroom, smartass," you rolled your eyes. Everything was always a fight with Rafe. He couldn't just do what you asked. No, he had to make a billion sarcastic and bitchy comments in the process. God, he was so dramatic.
"Fine, let's take the mutilated corpse to the fucking bathroom," Rafe grumbled, moving to grab the body. He grunted as he grabbed the boy under the arms "You better have a damn good reason for this, or I swear to God..."
"Do you always have to complain so much," you groaned, trailing behind him. As much as Rafe was being a shithead, you couldn't help but admire the view of his biceps flexing underneath his t-shirt as he dragged the body.
"Would you rather I be all smiles and sunshine while carrying a disemboweled corpse to the bathroom?" Rafe shot back sarcastically. He dropped the body unceremoniously into the porcelain bathtub. "Now what?" He demanded, turning to you with a glare.
"Okay, I did not disembowel him," you said, rolling your eyes at his dramatics as you turned the tub on, turning the temperature to its max. "All his organs are still in his body," you argued, waiting for the water to heat up, occasionally dipping your fingers underneath to test the temp.
"Oh, well, as long as his organs are all nice and cozy inside him, I guess that makes it all okay then," Rafe retorted, watching you carefully as you plugged the bathtub, letting the water fill up.
"The water should burn off any DNA evidence, or at the very least, make it extremely degraded," you explained, steam starting to billow up from the tub and fill the small room. "So, we can just leave him here for like, his housekeeper to find or something."
Rafe's eyebrows shot up, "Leave him for the housekeeper to find?" He echoed, "And what, we just waltz outta here, hand in hand?"
"Aww," you cooed, looking over your shoulder to grin at him. "You wanna hold my hand?"
"Fuck you," Rafe spat, but you could see the faintest hint of a smirk playing on his lips. He crossed his arms over his chest, clearly annoyed but not entirely displeased by the idea.
"You wish," you snorted, willing the tub to finish filling up. You were becoming increasingly aware of how sticky and uncomfortable the blood was on your skin, especially now that it had gone cold.
"In your dreams, maybe," Rafe shot back, though his eyes flicked down to your arms, taking in the crimson stains that painted your skin. "You're a mess," he commented gruffly.
"Well, murder isn't exactly a clean endeavor." You turned the water off and turned back to him, crossing your arms over your chest. Rafe had blood all over his hands and spatter across his face and shirt. He wasn't nearly as bloody as you, but he wasn't clean either.
Rafe looked down at his red-stained hands, flexing his fingers as if just now realizing how messy he was. He glanced back up at you, his expression unreadable. "We should clean up."
"What?" You asked, gaze darting to the glass shower in the corner. "You wanna hop in the dead guy's shower? Seems a little insensitive, don't you think?" You grinned, making a joke of the situation.
"Oh, ha ha," Rafe deadpanned, uncrossing his arms and moving past you to turn the water on in the shower. He turned to you, his expression serious. "We'll shower together."
Your eyes widened a little at his bold demand, but you couldn't deny that it was practical. "Yknow, normally, I'd say you just wanna see me naked," you teased him. "But, that's actually not a bad idea. It'll save time."
"Don't flatter yourself," Rafe scoffed, though his eyes lingered on you for just a moment longer than necessary. "Less talking, more stripping," he said, pulling his shirt over his head.
You internally groaned at the sight of him shirtless. You'd seen it before, but the view of his toned chest simply never got old. You started to pull your own clothes off. "So, what are we gonna put on once we finish cleaning all this blood off?" You asked curiously, tugging your pants down your hips.
Rafe's jaw clenched as he took in your naked form, his eyes roaming over you appreciatively before he tore his gaze away and finished undressing. "There's probably a robe or something in here," he muttered, stepping into the shower and letting the warm water cascade over his head, falling down his broad shoulders.
You hummed, nodding as you stepped into the shower with him. It was a fancy ass shower with multiple shower heads and streams of water, which made washing up with another person much easier. You tried to keep your eyes North of the equator and not sneak a peek at his dick as you pumped some soap into your palm, lathering it in your hands.
Rafe watched you from the corner of his eye as he soaped up his own hands, his expression inscrutable. "You know," he said after a moment, "for someone who just helped me murder a man, you're awfully relaxed right now."
"You know, for someone who just let me help him murder a man, you're awfully relaxed right now," you grinned, mirroring his sentiment as you rubbed the soap on your body, trying to get rid of the blood staining your skin.
"Touché," he nodded, his hands roaming over his chest and arms, scrubbing away the crimson stains.
"Now, hurry up, so we can get the fuck out of here," you said, not wanting to be in the house any longer than necessary. Every minute that ticked by with you two in the room with your victim, was one minute closer to being caught.
Rafe finished washing himself quickly, his mind already on the task at hand—getting away from the scene of the crime. He turned off the shower and reached for a towel. He handed you one and took the other, both of you drying off in record time and pulling the soft, monogrammed robes on, you muttering something about 'fucking rich people' that had Rafe rolling his eyes—considering the fact that he also had monogrammed robes.
You collected your bloody clothes and the towels you had used, not wanting to leave anything behind before sneaking out of the house undetected and jumping into Rafe's truck parked a few blocks away. Once you were finally away from the house and certain you hadn't been seen by anyone, you let out a sigh, relaxing into the seat after you buckled yourself in.
Rafe started the truck and pulled out of the parking spot, keeping an eye on the rearview mirror as he drove away from the house. He glanced over at you, noting the bloody clothes balled up in your lap. "We need to get rid of those," he said, his voice low and even.
"We'll burn them," you shrugged, your tone indicating that it was the most obvious thing in the world. You leaned your head back against the headrest. You were exhausted and oddly, starving. Who knew that murder took so much out of a person?
He nodded. "Let's head to my place. We can order some food and discuss what to do now," he laid out a plan or pieces of a plan rather.
"Sounds good to me," you agreed, looking out the window and watching as the Figure Eight mansions blew by. You couldn't believe that you has just killed someone, and more than that, you couldn't believe you had just killed someone with the kook king Rafe Cameron.
tags .ᐟ @starkeysprincess / @cometmultiverse / @iheartjjmaybnk / @all4l0vee / @kissesfrmriri / @xoxohoneymoongirl / @bradshawed / @fallbhind
#🎀#𖦹 ׂ 𓈒 📖 sol writes .ᐟ#back at it with another mid story#the ending is ass#but we can ignore that#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x reader#killer!rafe#killer!rafe x reader#rafe cameron x you#rafe#rafe x reader#rafe x you#outer banks#outer banks au#rafe cameron au#obx rafe cameron#rafe obx#rafe cameron fanfic#rafe cameron fanfiction#outer banks fanfiction#outer banks fanfic#obx fanfiction#outer banks rafe#outerbanks rafe#rafe outer banks
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can i get an eager, inexperienced gojo? he is probably so silly and loving during sexy time but he still acts like a horndog, not sure where to touch, kinda nerv but tryna cover it up bc he’s the strongest sorcerer, ofc he’s been with so many ladies before!!!! (he hasn’t but he doesn’t want YOU to know that)
love your works as always stay safe💗💗💗
AIN'T NEVER DID THIS BEFORE, NO.
𝐆. 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 — 五条悟
NOTE: this made me think of that j. cole song so i looped it while writing all 2.3k of this fic 🥴 i hope u like what i did!! mwaaa smooches!! hope ur well <3
🔞 mdni / 18+ content
SUMMARY — Gojo's saved up his virginity ever since he met you, savoring every wet dream through the years until he finally got the real thing in a hotel room in Okinawa.
WARNINGS — fem reader, n.sfw content, profanity, pre-established relationship
SMUT WARNINGS — virginity loss, light dirty talk, nicknames (good girl, sweet girl, daddy), Gojo's so nervous and inexperienced wheee😩💗, protected sex/condoms used, multiple rounds (2), kitty eating, giving him head, fluffy ending scene, lmk if i have missed smth and pls overlook errors i'm slepy asf it's 2am
Wordcount ≈ 2.3k
Playme ♪ wet dreamz
🍒 𝐉𝐚𝐲 — サクランボ ⋅ 𝐑𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬/𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐭 !
You can’t miss the way his Addam’s apple shifts up and down when he swallows, or the way he gawks when you wiggle out of your clothes and toss them off the side of the hotel bed.
Where are my hands supposed to go?
He’s thinking that while haphazardly squeezing a large handful of your hips and hotly kissing your neck.
This has been his long-anticipated dream come true… see, Gojo Satoru met you in high school. And the first thing he thought to himself was I want her to take my virginity. So, he had promised himself that one day, when he was older, he was gonna give it to you.
All his cheeky flirting and dirty jokes got him here, in this room of some dreadfully expensive hotel in Okinawa. Yes, he’s cheesy, as cheesy as he was when he used to lean over his desk during high school to whisper dumb pickup lines into your ear; he requested rose petals and wine. He had the lights dimmed. He laid you down with kisses right on top of those strewn petals.
Crazed, feverish, eager, overwhelmed; he was bursting with a bunch of feelings – predominantly horniness. He’s always had that horny twang about him, he was unashamed about it around you – it’s what got you hot for him in the first place, the fact that he was so bold with his dirty jokes and naughty hints.
But now he’s struggling to find his words. Now that smart mouth is sparsely throwing out witty remarks. Now he was heavily relying on comedy to ease his nervousness and mask his inexperienced movements.
He let you roll on top and savored each kiss that you pressed down his chest – heaving, he was heaving and hot already and all the two of you had done so far was romantic French kissing and tentative touches across each other’s bare skin.
The heat of your flushed cheeks seared his lower abdomen.
How low is she gonna go – oh my god what do I do – play it cool – oh my god is she actually – wow this is really happening.
Such a mess of goofy thoughts passed through his mind when you pressed a testing kiss to his glistening cockhead. Giving the slit a lick made his shoulders scrunch up, and his voice shook a bit, “Shit, baby, you don’t have to do that if you don’t w – want to… oh fuck…”
“But I’ve wanted to suck it so bad, I’ve thought about it so much.” You batted your eyes at him.
His stomach flipped.
“O-okay… ” he breathed. In the back of his mind, he was self-conscious about sounding like a virgin… because he totally was. And he wasn’t masking it very well when you started kissing and licking on his cock.
Feling your tongue swirl circles around his bulbous head, then swiping the underside, nearly made him bust right there. It took every bit of this strong boy’s strength to hold it in. And there was a lot to hold in.
“Oh that’s so fucking good.” He moaned.
You lowered your lips down his slickened cock, the warmth and texture of it delighting your tongue. Taking in his scent, his taste, his sounds – when you hollowed out your cheeks and suctioned your lips around him, he let out an uneasy moan. He was really gonna bust right there in your mouth if he didn’t tell you to ease up.
“B-baby, you’re so good at that – but – but fuckkk – slow down f’me…” he pleaded, big hand coming to the back of your head as you slid off his cock – that also almost made him bust. Oh god, you unknowingly edged him. Maybe you knew that, because you giggled at the way his cock jumped and visibly twitched after popping your lips off of it.
“Sorry, you good?” you asked him sweetly. He looked at you through lust-glazed eyes, his lower lip glistening with a bit of drool.
“ ‘m okay – fuck come here and get on your back. ‘Wanna do that to you too.” He commanded you, eagerly shuffling positions.
He lowered his face between your legs, marvelling at the shiny wet sheen smeared across your inner thigh. A thin web of juice connected from your hole.
“Sorry, I know it’s rude to stare.” He chuckled, joking to lighten his nerves. But earning a laugh from you made his heart flutter before he dove right into it – now here’s where you realized something.
He was inexperienced. Totally. Sweetly so. His tongue flicked and darted around, swiping along your slit, gathering your juices like he was thirsty. The way he licked you up felt like he was some college boy giving his crush head in a lucid dream.
But if there’s one thing you know about Gojo Satoru, it’s that he can do anything he tries. You started out giggling and squirming on his face, and ended up squealing his name and arching your back. Switching between suckling at your clit and lapping at your folds and slipping his buttery tongue into your hole – he was having fun figuring it out.
And my god, he had the biggest, smuggest, most smackable grin on his face when he made you cum.
“W-wipe that grin off your face.” You panted, half-dazed from your orgasm.
His grin only grew wider. Now he was feeling a bit cocky, a little high on a sugar rush of confidence because he just made the girl of his dreams cum from a little amateur tongue-fucking.
“You musta really wanted it bad, huh?” he teased, crawling up to meet your face and pressing a few wet, sloppy kisses to your awaiting lips. You could taste yourself, and he was conscious of that – and it made him almost bust on your tummy. You felt his cock jumping and twitching and throbbing against your skin.
“Don’t get all smug now…” you muttered.
His plumped, flushed lips hovered over your face. “Thanks for the meal.” He whispered jokingly, wiping your juice off his cheek with his thumb and suckling it off.
“Hahaha what!” you broke out laughing. “You’re ridiculous!”
He ran his tongue over his lips to tease you, “Tasted better than in my dreams.”
Now that made you flush hotter underneath him. Because for some reason, it hadn’t occurred to you that he had wet dreams of you. But he did. And he was too embarrassed to admit the number – it was big. He dreamed of you a lot. Especially taking you from the back… so naturally
“Turn around f’me, please?” he asked, “I wanna see you from the back.”
Your lack of hesitation to switch positions for him made his heart thump.
“Good girl…” he muttered under his breath, unsure of how you’d take the nickname. But hearing your giggly hum and seeing your hips wiggle up to his pelvis reassured him that you liked it.
So he engulfed you from behind, “You like that?” he whispered into your ear, big hand smoothing over the curves of your body to get a good feel of it. “Want me to call you a good girl?”
You nodded into the plush pillow, “Yes please. I like it.” You mumbled into the fabric.
“Can’t hear you, speak up.” He smiled against the shell of your ear teasingly. “Daddy’s hard of hearing.” He joked.
You rolled your eyes at his dumb goofiness. For some reason you thought it would switch off in the bedroom, but no – he was just as much as a dumb good in and out of bed.
“ ‘call me your good girl, please. I like it.”
His cock twitched. He’d started rubbing and pressing his cock into you from the back. The way your thighs and plush little pussy hugged him was better than any dream – lucid or not. And he’s had a lot of lucid wet dreams of you. Of this, specifically; taking you from behind. In his dreams, he’s pounding into you so good that you cream and cream and cream all over him. He just hopes he can actually achieve that in reality.
When he lowers his hands and fists his cock a bit before running the head between your folds, a pang of nervousness strikes his chest. That feeling came over him – that realization that oh, I’m gonna have my first time.
“So pretty…” he compliments, one hand soothingly caressing around your pussy.
To you, it almost feels like he might have done this before – you’re not sure – with the way he lightly smacks his cock on your hole, and the way he tests your smallness by slipping his tip in and out, you think he’s probably got at least a bit of experience under his belt.
But no. No, not at all. Not even a little bit. In fact, before you, he only kissed two people – and the first didn’t count to him because he hated it, and the second also didn’t count apparently because he was just practicing with Suguru in anticipation of kissing you one day.
“Fuck me…” he hissed through his gritted teeth when he finally sunk more than his tip through your hole.
“Fucking didn’t expect it to feel this good…” he thought out loud. “Might bust right here… fuck.” He blurted, then proceeded to boyishly blush.
Little hole squeezing on his virgin cock, hips wiggling back to meet his pelvis and take him deeper, you pawed behind you to feel him. “Baby, I-I gotta tell you something.” He begins embarrassedly, the nervous twang in his voice is so unfamiliar that you look back at him. “I’ve never done this before…” after he said that he sucked in a breath through his teeth at the feeling of your hole tightening and untightening.
You blink at him, and he’s worried for a split second before you smile sheepishly and tell him that he’s your first, too. Well, that little fun fact is what made him snap his hips against your ass and start fucking into you like he was some sort of crazed animal. He felt dizzied with the rush of pleasure, so stirred by the feeling of your pussy sucking his cock – there was no comparable thing in the world to him right then. He was definitely gonna become a sex-crazed fiend after this night, he thought. Absolutely. How could he not?
“S’toruuu – right there right there!” you cried out his name with such a pretty, strained voice that it made him want to tell you he loves you.
“Here? You like it here?” he hit that spot harder and harder, the squelching sound so dirty that you almost felt ashamed for a second. “My good girl gonna cum like this? Yeah? F-fuck t-t-tell me when you’re close ‘cause I’m close – really fucking close – fuck fuck fuck ahhh ‘gonna cum!”
He’s driving into that sweet spot while he cums, spilling a warm creamy mess into the condom – completely falling to pieces. Gojo’s always been inclined to obsessing over things, and he knows right then – when he cums with your quivering pussy sucking him in – that he’s gonna be obsessing over sex with you after this.
“Keep goinggg ‘m gonna cum too, please!” you whimpered from underneath him. He heard you, he was attentive even though he was panting and dazed. His thrusts got sloppy and he weighted on your body more heavily, you could feel his heartbeat.
“Good girl – g-good girl, rub your pretty clit. Want me to do it for you? M’kay sweet thing, lemme get you there – ah yeah? That feel good? You like daddy’s fingers toying with this pretty pussy? Oh fuck you’re gonna cum aren’t you?” he breathed all that into your ear and it absolutely destroyed you, especially with how those intense blue eyes piercingly stared down at you from behind.
“Get that relief, pretty girl – cum all over me. Fuck, there we go – oh wow…” he hit another sweet spot, feeling you gush and writhe under his imposing frame got him close again. “Fuck, baby – just a second, j-just a second ‘m gonna get ‘nother condom, n-need to fucking cum in that pussy again.” He pulled out quick, fingers struggling to free his cock of his already filled lil’ rubber. Squeezing into another one was one of the fastest yet most frustrating things he’s done in a while – oh, you just know that he’s gonna ditch the condoms as soon as you give him the green light to do so. Patience, he thought. He’s gonna need patience and a lot of rubbers.
“Ah fuck me! Satoru!” you arched your back when he re-entered.
“ ‘m gonna cum again, baby – fuck – s-sorry is it too much?” he breathed into your neck. Sweat beaded down his torso, down his thighs – both your bodies pricked with just enough sweat to make it erotically uncomfortable.
You barely managed to tell him that it wasn’t too much because of the way he was sloppily hitting his cockhead into your pussy. Feverish, dazed, pussy-drunk and love-drunk, you felt his hot lips nibbling at your shoulder, then he unexpectedly sank his teeth into your skin. It wasn’t sore, but those canines were a bit sharp.
Muffled moans on your skin sent a shiver down your back, one that travelled to your ass and thighs.
Rolling off to the side, panting and laying exhausted and unmoving.
“Fuck.” He muttered as if to say that was mind-blowing.
“Fuck.” You agreed.
“And ya didn’t even tell me you were a virgin!”
“You didn’t tell me, either!” you giggled, rolling into his embrace.
“But it’s hot if the girl is a virgin!”
You laughed with him.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” you asked.
He stayed silent for a little while, pulling you closer and caressing your shoulder. The two of you stared up at the ceiling.
“It’s embarrassing.” He admitted. “There was a time I wanted to lose my virginity just so that when I finally got to you, I’d be able to please you better. But I’m glad I waited…”
“Mmm really?” you hummed, he felt your smile print on his chest.
“…yeah.” You could hear his little smile in his voice. “I’m glad I gave it to you.”
#♥️ 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 — 五条悟#🔞#mdni#smut#gojo#gojo smut#satoru#satoru smut#gojo satoru#gojo satoru smut#jjk#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#gojo x reader smut#gojo x reader#gojo satoru x reader#gojo saturo#jujutsu kaisen#jjk gojo#jujutsu gojo#gojo x fem reader#jjk satoru#gojou satoru x you#gojou satoru x reader#jujutsu kaisen satoru#tw: smut#virgin gojo#is that even a tag who knows#hey u i see u there#did u read all my tags thats so koot here is a cookie 🍪
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Stars
warnings: none
characters: jude x reader
summary: when you, a hollywood actress, need to shoot an underwear campaign with him.
may contain spelling and translation errors!
You, or rather Y/n Marx, were at the height of your career. You were the most sought-after actress in Hollywood, winning awards like the Oscar and the Golden Globe, even though you were so young. Your performances in romance films, dramas and comedies have made you a global icon. Your ability to transform into any role and the charisma you exuded on camera made you an unbeatable force in the film industry. The english actress, who won hearts all over the world, has been everywhere: red carpets, magazine covers and, now, in a campaign for Skims, a renowned fashion brand. You were used to being the center of attention, but this campaign would be different. It wouldn't just be about you.
For the first time, you would share stardom with someone, and that someone was none other than Jude Bellingham, one of the most promising football players in the world and an idol in Europe. You had heard about him several times through the mutual friend you had been friends with since the days when you were still a young rising star.
Jude was, in addition to being a football star, a charismatic man, with a legion of fans around the world. He had a relaxed and natural way that captivated anyone, whether on the field or off. You've never met him in person, but his name always comes up in conversations with your friend. You exchanged messages here and there, but nothing very significant... Until that moment.
Campaign day has arrived. The set was located in a stunning mansion in Los Angeles, filled with luxurious environments and stunning views. Upon arrival, you were greeted with the usual treatment: a team of makeup artists, stylists and assistants, all ready to make sure you looked perfect for the photos. You, as always, remained calm and professional, greeting everyone with your warm smile. However, the player's name echoed in the set. You knew he was there too, but the idea that you would finally meet in person left a slight feeling in your stomach.
Y/n Marx wasn't easily intimidated, but something about this encounter made you feel different. Maybe it was because, in all your fame and success, you'd never really taken the time to get to know someone in such a...sincere way. And Jude was someone who shared that pressure of fame, someone who perhaps understood it on a deeper level.
While you were in the dressing room, you caught a commotion coming from the main entrance. It was him.
—Jude has arrived!
The makeup artist commented casually.
You looked in the mirror, taking in your impeccably prepared reflection for the cameras, but your heart started to beat a little faster. He took a deep breath and prepared himself for the first interaction.
When you finally returned to the set, you were on your back, adjusting your dress for the first photo. He heard footsteps and then Bukayo's familiar voice.
—Y/n, this here is Jude, but I'm sure you already know each other because I talk about him so much.
He joked, with that typical smile that always warmed up any room.
You slowly turned around and met Jude's eyes for the first time. It was something beyond what you expected. His photos on social media didn't do justice to the presence he exuded in person. Tall, with an easy smile, and with that look that mixed curiosity and a certain charm. You stared at each other for a moment, the world around you seemed to slow down.
—I finally meet you in person!
Jude said, extending his hand to you with a smile that revealed both tranquility and slight nervousness.
—Yes, finally! —You replied, with a soft laugh, accepting the handshake. —Saka don't stop talk about you.
The touch of your hands seems to last a little longer than necessary. There was something about the energy between you, something neither of you expected.
The photo session began, and the first poses were relaxed, with the two laughing and interacting as if they were already old friends. Jude, despite being more used to football pitches than fashion cameras, surprised everyone with his ease. He moves naturally, his athletic body perfectly complementing the campaign's aesthetic.
You, on the other hand, were in your comfort zone, but something about the man's presence made you feel vulnerable, in the best of ways. There was something genuine about him that took her out of her usual impeccable posture. At times, you found yourself actually laughing, something rare on such controlled film sets.
After a few hours of photos and videos, the team took a break. You turned around in the rest area, both of you with a bottle of water in your hands, still adjusting your costumes.
—You're really good at this.
You commented, breaking the silence as you sat next to him on the white sofa that decorated the set.
—I was a little nervous at first.... —He admitted, shrugging. —This isn't exactly my field, you know?
—It doesn't even seem like it! —You laughed. —You look very natural.
You were silent for a moment, just watching the team move around. Then, Jude looked at you, his gaze more serious this time.
—You are much more reserved than I expected. —He said, with a sincerity that caught her by surprise. —I always see you on screen, so confident, but you have this way... different in person.
You blurted out, a little shy.
—It's different being in front of the camera as Y/N Marx and just being Y/n, you know? —You confessed, something you don't usually do with strangers. —People don't always understand that.
—I understand. —He replied, with a simplicity that made your heart quicken. —I think we have that in common.
The look between you lasted longer than expected, a silent exchange of understanding that was interrupted when Bukayo appeared out of nowhere, throwing a pillow at the two of you.
—Hey, I don't care about a romantic atmosphere on the set!!! —Bukayo joked, laughing loudly. —Come on, you still have a few more photos to take.
The rest of the day passed quickly, but that exchange of looks between you was recorded in both of your minds. When the photo session ended, and the sun was already setting, you said goodbye, but with a feeling that this meeting would not be the last.
As you got into the car that would take you back to the hotel, you couldn't help the smile that insisted on appearing on your lips. Jude also looked different. You both knew something special had happened on that set, something that no camera had ever fully captured, but that they would both feel for a long time.
And so began the love story between a Hollywood star and a world football icon.
#jude bellingham x fem!reader#jude bellingham x you#dorabellingham#jude bellingham#jude bellingham imagine#jude bellingham one shot#jude bellingham x reader#football#real madrid#football fanfic#football x y/n#football x reader#jb5 x fem!reader#jb5 x reader#jb22#jb5#jude bellingham smut#jude bellingham imagines
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pspspsps dinner time everyone
[cato/f!ambassador]
(1) (2) (3) (4) (5)
(5,700ish words) (im cooked)
CONTENT WARNINGS:
•slight dubcon [again]
•hints of size kink
•intercourse [M/F]
•discussions of virginity
•vague breathplay
•even more negligible aftercare
•degrading language
•mild possessive behaviour
•tumblr's pisspoor formatting as per last time
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im once again doing a free magic show here and pulling a rabbit (this fic) out my ass. so, without further a-do the tagging... @kit-williams, @passionofthesith, @pluvio-tea, @the-raven-lady, @bispecsual, @egrets-not-regrets, @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan, @lemon-russ. let me know if anyone else wanna be tagged if i do a part three HAHAHAHHAHA i might double down on the comedy-of-errors and have Guilliman get involved. Not like a three-way with this particular fic, even if I'd love to slut papa smurf out. There's always another time and another chance to sexualise an old man :3
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Cato finds you relatively easily.
Truthfully, you make no actual sport of it. But he's never going to pass up a cheap bit of entertainment at your expense.
At this time of the ship's cycle you're most likely to be in the east wing, pointedly the lower libraries. He knows this. He won't confess why or how he knows, though—so, fuck off.
You're lazy and predictable. To say nothing of the fact you're far too comfortable scuttling about his Father's vessel. If a hypothetical assassin ever could get onto the ship without being stomped into paste by him immediately, they'd have no problems tracking you down. You may as well be a sevitor running on rails for all your movements stay the same.
He notes you're not on the first level.
Nor the second.
You are on the third, in the leftmost quadrant.
In the restricted reading area.
You do have clearance—but the fact still irks him. Typically, this was for his more decorated brothers to catalogue Xenos. Typically, one needed to be accompanied to even access this level.
But oh, no—no, you're allowed.
You're allowed because you are a damnable leach of a woman. And also the bane of his existence, did he mention that? And you're—you're—tucked up in secure side-room, reading on a data-slate; half-asleep in a little blue robe and looking the pict of adorable sloth.
You don't notice him immediately.
Clearly too absorbed in your gerrymandering-for-servitors cheat-sheet.
And that annoys him even more.
Because, are you really that obtuse? So unassailable in your own mind that you're this blatantly fucking oblivious? He's an Astartes, damn it. Sure, he's in casual rest attire instead of clanking plate—but he's a large, two-and-a-bit meter tall trans-human war-machine standing in the doorway—and you haven't even noticed him. Ignorant like some little rodent chewing away at crumbs in it's hovel.
His Father's got a vermin problem on board, and the mice are stupid and bold and literate... along with rather cozy, apparently.
A finely woven navy throw is swaddled around you where you're lying on the chaise lounge. And the sight of you bundled up inspires a vivid déjà-vu of the last time you were alone with him with little more than a blanket over you.
Cato hesitates for a heartbeat, swallows down the sudden lump in his throat and sets his jaw.
He steps into the room and waves a hand over the laser-pad locking mechanism.
There's a fractional second in which you become cognisant to the sound of the shutter door closing and where you actively notice him.
Then there's a shrill scream as if you've pinched a nerve.
The data-slate goes flying, pelted at his head. But it hits the shutter door and clatters to the floor, far-off any hint of a good mark.
Useless woman.
Realising it's him a moment later, you heave out a racketing sigh.
"Throne of Terra, Ca—" you start, and it sounds like you're going to say his first name before you rightly correct yourself and say, "C-Commander, you scared me half to death."
He immediately sets about accosting you, "Have you been sitting here with the door open this whole time?"
"No," you nip out.
"You are aware that I can tell when you're lying?"
"I'm certain you can," your tone flattens in a way he's only ever heard you talk to particularly sleazy representatives with. It's not an honest exchange, it's double-speak. It's mocking. You're mocking him.
He grits his teeth.
You've grown more open in your defiance towards him as of late, certainly not because of any revelation or reason and it rubs him in a dangerous, new way. He's not about to let it slide, either.
"Is that so?" His words are sharp and accusative and he hopes—he hopes he'll get the delight of watching you cower like you usually do when confronted by him. "Have you been lying to me often, then?"
Half his hopes come true. You look away nervously and mumble something almost inaudibly, and he'd not have noticed if not for his far superior hearing.
It was, "...maybe," and all Cato can help but do being himself, is detonate.
"And what have you been deceiving me of, you scheming little whore?" He snarls, fuming—a dozen crimes and sins crowding his mind you might be tried for. Maybe he's been far too lenient to the actual reality of your evil. Finally, validation to corroborate his deviation—maybe you'll admit you're some Slanneshi fleshchanger, and that you intended to have burrowed so deep in his mind.
Nonetheless, you're nowhere near even close to fast enough to defend yourself. But it's not like he gives you the chance.
He's crossed the distance with a practiced speed. And quicker than you can even yelp, you are pinned to the lounge—a shackle in the form of his fist around your smaller throat.
The pressure is a limp handshake by his standards. You're not really choking. Just stifled slightly for good measure.
Still, it'd be a mere flex to break your neck. He could snap you like a stylus with what was to him, ultimately, nothing but a simple twitch of his fingers. And he would think more about the blatant contrasts between you both much longer if he wasn't far too distracted by the fact you even struggle prettily wantonly. Big eyes wide and glossy with animal panic. Involuntary tears gather at the corners as you register what's going on at last. The mad temptation to lick them if they so much as dare trail down your cheeks begins eating at him.
Some rational part of his rational mind reminds him he can't get the truth out of you when he's vaguely throttling you, though—and he lets you go begrudgingly. Instead opting for looming over you as you roll sidelong on the couch, breathing fast.
He crouches down to your level and grumbles, still absorbed in his raging.
"Speak," he barks, and pointedly grabs you by the chin.
"I–I hadn't actually—" you start, breathless as you mumble. "Actually, uh, laid with anyone, even though I nodded I sort of... had."
He's staggered at the statement, "...that's it?"
A vague lie of omission, but it's not the great corruption he sought to root out.
Then he actually thinks about what you've just admitted.
Like fog banished under a rising sun, his anger at the thought of treachery immediately dissipates into blistering revelation.
"Hold on, you..." Cato starts, baffled and completely knocked for a six, meeting your gaze slowly—genuinely stunned as he pulls his hand back fully. "I... I was the first?"
You look away cursorily, face reddening not only with your previous strains, but with embarrassment.
Now, that was the reaction of a guilty conscience.
Cato doesn't know what to do with the information. Nor does he really know what he feels.
He'd been the first. He feels like he's won something over his brothers. Therefore, fuck the lot of them—and fuck Titus, specifically. Even if he's not sure why. He truly couldn't believe it. There's success, sure—but then there's taking the laurels: whole and absolute. And this... this is exactly that. But oh, for some apparently vestal thing, you'd let him bully down to the hilt in your tight cunt; whining like a whore when he spilled himself inside you. Throne, it was almost suffocating to think back on it now. So willing to have your maidenhead taken, nevermind the fact you weren't the only one who'd had a new experience that day. But you didn't need to know that.
"Another notch to my mantel of victories then," he ultimately decides is the best thing to say, gloating to himself.
"Unbelievable," you sigh softly as you shakily sit yourself up.
But there's the problem again. The one tangible, constant problem with having laid you. It's made you mouthy. He only ever glimpsed your boldness when you interacted with other baselines in the past. You never sassed Astartes, or at least, he's never seen you do it. But now that stubbornness and unwillingness to back down in a political forum is on full display heedless of situation. As if you've suddenly become one of the auto-felating Imperial Fists—or any of Dorn's insufferable ball-busting scions, really. Worst of all, it's only managed to somehow make him even more enthralled annoyed with you than usual. You're still too good at quashing your anger, hard as it is to rouse. But he loves loathes that you bite the lure instead of shying off now.
"To think that I was the first—is your entire professional role not centred around charm? Would no one else have you with that rotten attitude you've been hiding?" he says, knowing he's being nasty, knowing he's twisting the knife; and absolutely praying for you to fall for it.
Cato watches a rainbow of emotions pass over your features, before you settle on one that makes you look like you ate something sour. He's hit a weak spot. But the sentiment holds true. His Primarch thinks you the best and brightest to sway planets? You couldn't even seduce some daft, drunken aristocratic fool to fuck you.
You, the prettiest baseline he's ever seen.
...maybe Guilliman is right in saying the Imperium has rolled belly-up with bloat.
"That's not—that's not why and you know it," you open your mouth and jumble your words briefly before getting out, "Do you have any idea how hard it is to find someone who won't have a panic attack because of the several Astartes that insist on following you around?" You continue, raving and flustered, "Do you think anyone would get near me with you—or—or... maybe Captain Acheran, or the good Chaplain, let's say, breathing over my shoulder?"
"You should be grateful any of us waste our time babysitting you," Cato oafishly shoots back like a petulant child, brows furrowing, "You should be thanking me for doing the brunt of it."
Your nose scrunches up, "Pardon me, Commander, it's surely entirely my fault that we are both at the whims of our Lord Primarch."
He pauses.
Something about this interaction isn't stirring his temper like it should.
He should be absolutely livid with anger, or at the very least blowing your eardrums out with a 'shut the fuck up,' at full Astartesian line-command volume.
Yes, he should be seething, and yet he's not. To his surprise, he's actually feeling more enthused than anything.
This feels... exciting, almost.
"You've only grown the backbone to talk back to me because I fucked one into you," he remarks sharply in reply.
You sputter, and go red, robbed of your words.
"Or maybe this is mere performance," He adds with a sneer, tipping his chin up proudly.
You roll your eyes and let out a dramatic puff of air, "Y-You're such a..." you start, but your voice tapers off—and you look away, pouting.
"I'm a... what?" He taunts, leaning close.
You grumble, apparently feeling brave again; meeting his gaze and puffing yourself up.
"You're a bully," you hiss, clearly upset but undeniably frazzled enough to be somewhat ranting again as you add, "A bully w-who's so disgustingly egotistical you've convinced yourself you're some great conqueror or... something... j-just for having been in me, as if I've never put anything in myself before."
Oh, but wait, Cato likes the idea of that. He likes it so much he completely forgets to acknowledge the insults in your statement prior. He likes the idea of you suffering like he had been—alone, yearning—aching for something you didn't know the dizzying reality of. He can imagine you smothering your sounds, those blessed whines he's got memorised, into a pillow in that cushy little quarters of yours, squirming on your meagre fingers, or maybe cold silicon. You didn't need that lesser imitation now. Cato'd gladly fill that role. He'd gladly fill that hole, too.
Nonetheless, he immediately wonders who you were getting off thinking about.
He'd streak the length of the ship for it to've been him you'd been fucking yourself over.
"Who were you thinking of?"
You blink at the completely offhanded question, then start sputtering, stalling.
"What? I-I—" you stammer, "That's not important or relevant—I just... did it, it's—"
"Keep lying and see where it gets you," He cuts in, raking you with an aggravated frown, and oh, excellent, you're starting to relearn he's not fond of your half-truthing, finally.
You duck your head a little, cringing under his gaze, trying to scoot yourself backwards. But there's nowhere to go.
Cato realises belatedly that in the middle of your antics, the sleeve of your robe has started to fall from your shoulder. His brain short-circuits momentarily with the sheer amount of air that floods his head. Your warm, soft skin on display just for him. He didn't get to see all of you last time. He felt a good portion of you, yes—but he didn't get the chance to admire acknowledge the whole vista. Not because he was too desperate to rut against to try. Or because he was probably going to swoon like a fool if he did. Shut up, he's no coward. Afterall, his hands had been close to your chest, but now—now he can actually look.
He's going to absolutely ruin that lovely canvas you've given him.
"Nobody," you say softly.
"Groxshit," he snaps.
"Fine—" You swallow and start scrambling for a response, "Malum C-Caedo."
Cato genuinely cannot help but bark a laugh at that, "Spare me, you haven't even met the man, moron—you're only saying that because your most recent reading was on his last briefing," he rolls his eyes. "You forgot I was there with Guilliman when you were given it."
You look at him like a cornered little mouse, and finally—finally, your sleeve falls just enough that he's given a perfect view of one of your tits.
"You already..." you grumble softly. "You already know who, then, so I shouldn't even have to dignify this."
"It's me, isn't it?" He asks darkly, and while he tries to sound haughty, the fact he's thrilled by both the notion and the sight of your partial nudity ends up warping his tone into a vaguely manic chuff.
You glance aside and stammer loudly, "N-No."
No, you say—but he hears your little heart flutter. And sees your pupils dilate.
"I hope you're aware you can't lie to save your life," Cato drawls.
Your gaze snaps back to his, and for a brief second, your expression is flushed with embarrassment; until it changes to a sour little scowl.
"I'm not a bad liar, you're just an Astartes—" you start furiously, but check your flustered anger.
Cato smirks.
It's not a completely clean victory, but it's good.
It means his own lusting madness is at least reciprocally vindicated.
And at that realisation, Cato's impulse control violently loses balance; and he's painfully aware he cannot, for the life of him, contain the hungered almost purr-like sound that crawls up his throat.
You go back to looking transfixed at that, and he pauses.
There's something... pulling him in even more than before. He feels as if he's taken the bait, and the hook, and the line and sinker—hell, he's taken a good bit of the rod, too. Everything's a little too heated, and he's got an innate, intuitive feeling you're just as wound up as he is—wait. He breathes in deep and slow, and scents the air. Throne, he may as well have been cold-clocked at the temple by a Dreadnaut for all the innate information he suddenly receives. You're quite frankly drenched in want. You're getting off on this. Smothering him in a dizzying biological chant of hormones that scream—fuck me, fuck me, fuck me.
He leans close, and puts a hand on the arm-rest; the other palm slowly moving towards your chest.
Your eyes follow it—but you voice no complaints nor rejections.
Justified now, he's ecstatic. And your skin is as perfect to the touch as he remembers.
His hand looks huge compared to the breast cupped in it, idly toying with the consistency of the flesh in his grasp. It's much softer and malleable than he thought it'd be. Almost like a water-skin. Thumb depressing your right nipple, before drawing a thoughtless circle.
You sigh lightly and relax a bit, and Cato takes that as another open invitation.
He uses the same hand to tug away the fabric from your other shoulder.
Quick as anything, he's practically stuffing his face against you without any real warning, ignoring your flinch at his haste. Cato's letting the urges he'd withheld in that wretched shack out. And it's so worth the wait. He groans, licks a fat band over your left breast, and worries at the perked little bud with his teeth until you're squirming; only to drag his attention up to nip at your fragile throat.
You're breathing hard, and you open your mouth as if about to speak—but ever spiteful, Cato rewards your attempt with the drag of his tongue and the press of his teeth; and that promptly shuts you up. The faint salt on your skin isn't half bad of a thing either, honestly. He rather likes it. It tastes like how you smell—and he's absolutely luxuriating in it. It makes it all the easier to map your chest from the curve of your breast to your collarbones, garnishing you with eager drags of his tongue and mouth-wrought bruises.
And now you're glorious. The marks on your skin are vivid—he's guaranteed you won't be wearing anything showy for a good while. No lovely vile plunging necklines for you to display to bastard dignitaries. Not unless you want to explain why they're Cato Sicarius sized. They'll also be a good reminder to you of exactly who's superior.
You're still too dazed by his efforts to realise the extent of his actions, but he knows exactly how hot and bothered it's made you. That honeyed reek of arousal is driving him insane.
Urged on, he digs a hand down and around your back and drags you off the lounge. Manoeuvring to turn so his back rests against the lip of the lounge, nigh dumping you before him on the rug.
"W-Why...?" You blink, stunned for a second before righting yourself and meeting his eyes. Cato's sat himself cross-legged, before letting them unfold, one tenting and the other splaying out.
"I did all the work last time," he starts impatiently, and leans up to grab you by the forearm; bringing your hand close close to the cradle of his hips, "Now it's your turn to do something for once."
...Cato's not sure you're actually listening, because he could've bet his helm you'd've become irate at that statement if you were. That, and you're glaring between his thighs.
Ironically, he also almost instantaneously finds he doesn't really care to continue the train of thought. Not when you trace the engorged bulge of him through the folds of his tunic. Groping at the base, before smoothing your palm to the rounded tip.
There's no accursed buttons between him and the open this time, thankfully—and that means he can simply tug aside the folds of his layered tunic and bare himself from the belly down.
His cock lays fat and heavy with blood, smearing precum as it moves from his navel to leftward on his hip when he straightens up.
You're staring.
He scoffs at your apprehension and says, "Alternatively, perhaps you can—"
A soft, "Shhh," leaves you.
He snorts like a big, angry stock horse, brow raised. No baseline, regardless of rank, would dare treat Cato like this; none would dare even think to treat to him like this. Except you now, apparently. You forget your station, your place. Making demands of an Astartes is nowhere near your clearance. Your best option is to implore, not command. Yours is to nod your pretty thick head and smile your fair rotten little smile and obey your betters.
"Did—did you just shush me, woman?" Cato's nigh instantly consumed by a rush of anger at the sheer audacity, sneering. "In what reality do you think you've any right to shush me? I'm Commander of the Victrix Honor Guard, Grand Duke of Talassar and High Suzerain of—"
Of... of something.
Suddenly your insolence is inconsequential to him. All that matters is the smooth glide of your dainty hand on his cock, and the sight of your thumb and pointer being unable to wrap around and meet given how thick he is.
You look up at him slowly for a second, before your focus returns to apparently sussing out how best to saddle him. It's a timid gesture, like you're anticipating overstepping—you're cautious.
He's about to remind you of the fact you've taken him before, so Cato's proven he fits and all this coyness of yours is arbitrary. But he guesses the point is moot when you're suddenly already stradling his hips.
With one small hand finding a place on his stomach, and the other holding his cock straight beneath the obscurity of your garbs, he feels you lower yourself enough to make contact; testing before offering a little more urgency.
With an agonisingly careful roll of your pelvis, the head of his cock catches against the soft ring of muscle at your entrance for a second.
He grumbles despite himself.
He can't watch his cock sink into you like last time thanks to the curtain of your robe, but at least he can certainly feel every millimeter of it happening.
Tight heat feels like a death shroud over his mind as he draws a blank on anything else.
And finally—finally he's stuffed down to the hilt—and oh, he's filled you to your end just like the last time. Throne, he's drunk off the spongy heat the thick head of cock is squared right up against.
This position's made your cunt just that bit shorter inside thanks to gravity.
You whimper, clearly trying desperately not to start shaking.
You start shaking anyways.
He's fascinated by the small, restless palms now pressed flat and trying to find a counterpoint on his broad, tunic'd chest. Soft and un-calloused aside from the small bump of a pen's rest on your writing hand. Everything about you is warm and soft. Inside and out, you're all his.
He exhales harshly through his nose and blinks, gaze shifting from your hands to your tits, then to your face.
You wear an even more flushed expression now, overwhelmed, with all your focus on him.
Right where it always should be.
"Hurry up," he grunts sharply.
You swallow hard, and promptly drop your gaze.
You, surprisingly, manage to lift yourself up despite your theatrics. And, little by little, he watches you strain up until just the tip of him is still buried in you.
Angling yourself, you keen, carefully sinking back down on his cock and reeling at the stretch again as you settle, ass meeting his dense quads with a soft plomf.
He can see you biting back a moan, pointless as the act is.
"Keep going," Cato grits out, "I didn't tell you to stop."
You frown halfheartedly, and your insides clench around him despite yourself.
You start a slow rhythm, the noise of colliding skin on skin echoes in his ears. Slick friction, and fucked-out, half-stifled cries. Your pace quickening. Riding him. Using him at your own leisure, like the precious wretched little thing you are. You repeat the same dizzying motion again and again, and again—rising and sinking—up, down, up, down; until it's clear you've found an angle that hits something just right, sending you over the edge with a rattling gasp.
A low groan crawls up the back of Cato's throat and slips free without restraint.
He's barely able to cope through the tight squeeze of your orgasm around his cock; but he steels himself, winning the fight to not spill in you right then and there at that. No small thanks to the furious couple hours he'd spent earlier in the simulated night cycle furiously attending his urges.
His calloused mitt can hardly compete with the nigh painfully silken clench of you. And the view—Throne, to simply watch is a level of spectacle he can't even put into words. It's nothing short of hypnotic seeing your face soften with fucked-out delight—he can't believe he'd ever thought it was good the first time around when he hadn't even seen you meet your end.
You stop suddenly, seated to the hilt, trembling and oversensitive—grinding back and forth, nails digging into his pectorals through his tunic.
"Just... n-need t'catch my breath..." You whimper, and that debauched tone wreaks havoc through his mind. An unceasing urge to pound you to tears overtaking what little sense he has left. It's the ravenous fact that you, the little parchment-pushing temptress, are all tuckered out from cumming on him so quickly. He's preening at the fact he feels that good to you—oh, he's going to send you limping back to your quarters.
He wants to watch you break.
"You lazy little cunt, you can't do a thing right, can you?" Cato groans, your thighs twitching as he lifts you by the hips and makes you sink back down.
He gets the treat of seeing your eyes swim back in your skull, dumb with sensation.
Lulled by the reedy, oversexed moans slipping from you with each motion; and he can't help but start thrusting up, matching pace.
"Hardly even four and a half minutes—and you're a mess, absolutely useless." He heaves, dropping you to full-hilt for a second to manoeuvre you better. You're nigh but a gasping dead-weight, delirious.
If you're going to act the entitled bitch, he'll screw you into something alike submission. Which is exactly why he's then pulling out, shoving you against the lounge on your back; and moving your thighs to bracket his hips as he half kneels on the rug. Just to slide himself back inside, balls-deep in willing flesh. The only dignity he affords you then is the space to wrap your arms around and behind his shoulders. Which you rightly do without demand.
Hold on, was the unspoken order.
Then he's fucking you into the lounge like his life depends on it. He's glad to notice it's bolted down, but the damned thing creaks—nonetheless, he can barely even hear it over the perfect sounds you're making.
Rolling his bottom lip between his teeth, barely holding back the noises that choke his own gullet.
"You're so damn lucky you're a nice tight hole," he rasps harshly, "That's all you're good for, hm? For me to fill?"
There's a gutting sort of beauty in the way you're looking up at him with open desperation. He's trying so hard not to fall victim to the siren call of it, but it's perfect vile and he can't help but fold. He'd kill for that look to never leave your face when your eyes fell on him.
"Fuck, I must be in your womb at this rate—would you like that? My load in your womb?" Cato says between a great lungful of air, only to start huffing madly to himself when you nod drunkenly. "Good, because that's exactly where i-it's going."
Mind reeling with every resounding sticky slap of his balls against you, paired with scorching wet slide of him pumping in and out of you. You're crying, all your sensibilities lost in the thorough pace he's ploughing into you with; trying to pull him in by tugging at his shoulders, but with your meagre strength it's merely a vague suggestion.
Still, he leans into it, if only to finally seize the chance to lap the tears off your cheek, and you sob; trying to turn nose to nose with him. Your pathetic pawing at his broad back only exacerbates the overwhelming urgency in his blood.
He's so close.
Bliss crests up like a tide inside him, building and building, stunned with how it makes him buck into you. He's dazed in a way he surely wasn't designed to be resilient against. He can't even shut his damn mouth to stop moaning—and only technically manages to do so when you cover it with your own the very second he's about to finish; your legs squeezing impotently down on his hips, trembling through another climax.
His nerves light up like an orbital barrage, body rocking against the pretty, willing thing below him that you are. He has no idea what's going on beyond that. Are you kissing him? Is that what you're doing? Half his brain is stunned by the idea and the other half is flooded by the rushes of pleasure in his system making his tendons cramp, ravaging him with the sound of his hearts thudding in his ears.
Working himself right into agony; he's tensing against you as he empties himself as deep as he can. His pace finally breaks pattern and staccatos as his mind leadens.
Lulled by the molten satisfaction that swamps him soon thereafter, Cato blindly tries to chase forward and keep your lips on his. Emphasis on tries. He thinks he likes it, foreign as the sensation and sentiment is. He's got his tongue in your mouth, but no real clue what to do beyond lapping further in like a man dying of thirst—and then, of course, you decide to start weakly thrashing for air, blunt teeth grazing against the invading muscle—so, with a miffed groan; he pulls away, drooling as he slumps front-long against you and the lounge with a rumbling sigh, letting his eyes close as he basks in the afterglow.
You're panting still, nosing against the nape of his neck—likely having difficulty respiring under his weight—but despite that, you're still twitching around his spent cock, just like last time.
Wistfully, he wonders if he could sleep with you stuffed full of him like this. Slotted together and absolutely buried in your cunt; reaming you out as far as your small frame will allow. He enjoys the idea of that, and of holding you close.
He listens meditatively as your breathing steadily evens out, a soft in-out rhythm he can hear start in your chest only to feel warmly dancing across his collarbone a moment later.
Your small hand glides up the back of his trapezoid and combs through the short hair at his crown.
He shivers almost immediately at the act, thoughts clouding. He doesn't know what he's supposed to do, now. He can't really bring himself to do anything. He's locked in. It's like he's been sedated, or scruffed about the neck. Then your fingers trace the bare skin behind his ear, and he snaps from the trance enough to crack an eye open to glance down.
"Don't push your luck," he bites out automatically and leers away.
You immediately stiffen, and lurch yourself back—seemingly completely confused.
He's not exactly sure why he reacted that way either, but he's certainly not going to address it.
Ultimately, he opts to pull his cock out of you with scant decorum rather than linger on the topic. Then he settles into a kneel as he eyes the soaked-in stain below the bunched-up fabric of your robe.
"Well," he snorts.
And damn, it's difficult to hold a straight face at the overdramatic, painfully oblivious pout you shoot him.
So, Cato just continues watching you with a cruel sort of satisfaction as you sit yourself up shakily, and realise the mess.
You blanch, promptly shutting your legs and fussing—your ass is half stuck to the fabric of the lounge by your own slick and his spent when you move to stand on shaky, unsure legs.
He's aware of the fact you're after something to wipe away the aftermath. But he's far too content observing you struggle for the moment. Pleased, even. Especially when he's treated to the cringing gasp that slips from you when his semen no doubt starts dripping down your thighs.
You're panicking within seconds. He can hear your heartbeat quickening, plus the acrid tang of baseline stress hormones pervading the room.
There's nothing to spare. Unless you want to leave another smear across the lounge cushioning, but he doubts you'd go so low. He, however, has no such reservations—and yanks the plush velour padded square up to wipe his cock off. It's not as if he wasn't going to toss it down one of the incinerator shafts on the library's second floor anyways.
"Do—" you begin softly, but amend yourself, "Would y-you have anything... to..."
He stares at you, brows furrowed.
Floundering now, you waddle close and swallow harshly.
"To... wipe this up?" You finish, barely a whisper. He can tell you're sour at the fact you're stroking his ego and essentially too full of him to go anywhere.
Cato scoffs, holding up the seating cushion, "What? Too spoilt to use this?"
You cringe at him, "People have sat on that—hundreds of people, probably. I-I don't have your immunity to infection."
Cato cedes on that point at least, because he assumes being a baseline is hell. And so very not his problem, too.
Completely out of left field, comes the temptation to lick you clean. His mulish hind-brain reasons it's a brilliant idea, namely because you'd likely be squirming for him again. Even if he has no real idea of what to do beyond that. Lap at your clit, probably—he's not actually done any of this before except—well, except just slamming into you. He has the basic gist of all of this from biologis graphics and pornographic motionpicts. Yes, the latter are technically contraband on Ultramarine chapter vessels—Throne, he actually remembers when that was put into force. He was still green behind the ears when that'd happened. But those specific brothers had displayed it for abstract amusement, not... it's intended purpose—rather: 'Lo, look at this curiosity, brothers! See they're fornicating, how very so strange! Baselines am-i-right?'
Honestly, it's never actually anything heretical, except for maybe the terrible acting.
He'd deem that punishable by death.
Regardless, Cato's guessing the process of licking something can't really be some sage art form. Not like duelling, and fuck, he's stellar at that. He's stellar at almost everything, he reasons. So why not that? You're such a wanton little thing he'd probably make you finish on accident.
Yet he decides against it as soon as the logical part of his brain boots back up. Largely given the fact he's probably already going to have a hard time as it is trying to avoid others on his way to mask the stink of sex. His brothers have keen noses, it wouldn't be difficult for them to notice the smell of you on his way to his chamber if he's not careful. Let alone if it's smeared all over his face. Next time, however—
"Surely it's not that bad," he says off-handedly.
A surge of shame appears on your face as a red, blotchy belt across your cheeks, and you seem about to protest before he grumbles.
"Still, you really ought to find a solution," he remarks idly, and he notices the implication isn't lost on you.
You frown softly, and wrinkle your nose at him.
"Maybe some manners would help you achieve your goals," he adds, with a clearer spite.
Your frown grows nigh comically harsh.
Cato grunts wryly, satisfied at your annoyance and paws at the hem of his tunic—tearing a portion off and holding it out to you.
You grab the edge of it and tug, but he doesn't let go.
"And what do you say?"
"Thanks," you answer hastily.
He raises an eyebrow and pulls the torn fabric back towards himself ever so slightly, causing you to over extend closer to him.
His stare stays locked on yours, and he gets the treat of watching you dither and fluster under his focus momentarily before you amend, "T-Thank you..." you swallow, and break eye contact, adding; "Commander Sicarius."
"Was that so hard?" Cato scoffs, especially thrilled as he lets go of the scrap—eyeing you as you trot aside, and gingerly begin to wipe away the mess of satisfaction coating your thighs and rear.
When you're decidedly done, you stomp back over to him and hold out the soiled fabric.
He reaches for it, only to have it promptly pulled away.
Cato scowls, and takes a step forward into your space—only for you to inch forward into his.
You're tormenting him then, he decides; or rather he thinks. He's not sure. You don't look smug—you look... nervous? Your lips have drawn into a thin line and you keep glancing between his eyes and behind him randomly.
"What?" He huffs, narrowing his eyes.
"Lean down," you mumble, then quietly make the additional effort of throwing in a "...please."
Cato grumbles at the request but complies, and Throne, he's glad he does; because suddenly you're up on your tip-toes, your hand on his jaw—and your lips are on his cheek.
He blinks, dumb as a mule. It's over as fast as it started and he can't even begin to unpack the elation he's abruptly feeling.
Heedless of his dazzled state, you clear your throat with a bashful laugh—and then the rag is suddenly stuffed into his open hand. He's still frozen there as you practically rush out the room, scooping your previously flung data-slate up as you frantically wave the door mechanism open and vanish from view.
A long wheeze escapes his throat in the empty room, his face thudding with heat.
Oh, he's fucked fucked.
#warhammer 40k#warhammer fanfic#warhammer 40k x reader#space marine x reader#reader insert#ultramarines#cato sicarius x reader#cato sicarius#honestly its more like:#cato 'allergic to introspection' sicarius#writing
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Strawberry Wine - Part 1
Pairing: Lee Jihoon (Woozi) x Fem!Reader
Genre: Romantic Comedy, Strangers to Lovers, Idiots in Love, Fake Dating, Smut (not in this part) MDNI!
Synopsis: After breaking off your engagement to your cheating fiancé, you decide to take the planned trip to Paris anyway. A vacation alone with the honeymoon suite all to yourself seems like the perfect distraction. Just that, due to an internal error at the hotel lost soul Jihoon, who still isn't over his first love's death five years ago, is staying in the same honeymoon suite as you.
Warnings (in this part): mentions of cheating, alcohol consumption, angst, probably a not so good description of paris tbh, the word "cock" is mentioned once, slight sexual tension
Word Count: 7.9k
A/N: hi everyone!! this is part one of my story for the world tour collab hostes by @svthub!! check out the masterlist here! this one is a bit of a... beginning, i guess, lol. the real drama and smut and all that will be in part two. but i still think this is a a fun part to get to know our characters! this not beta read and i might edit it later... thanks for reading i hope you enjoy <3 header & divider credit to @okiedokrie!
one; the author
The flash of the camera goes off and you’re almost sure your eyes were closed. The teenage girl next to you smiles brightly and waves at you once more before rushing off to go over to her mother. You lightly smile back and look over to your right where Minghao is giving you a thumbs up. Apparently, so you interpret his gesture, you’re holding up quite well for someone who just caught her fiancée cheating two weeks ago.
You’re aware that you could have canceled the book signing today. No one would have been mad. But even though your heart is shattered to a million pieces and you don’t think you’ll ever heal from this hurt - you still need to earn money and make those who give you that money happy. Just sucks that the person you build this with is somewhere on the Bahamas with your biggest rival on the romance book market. Or, well, as your publisher says: your bestest friend on the romance book market. Since you’re both making money, of course. You can’t count the times you and her have been sent to events together, not saying a word to each other on the way there and playing happy family the second you are in front of the cameras.
Her books weren’t even good! Boring and predictable if anyone asked you. Your ex had always agreed with you, even if he was her agent as well as yours. But Jaehyun was slick - he told her the same about your books.
“Hi, oh my god, I love your books so much! I can’t wait for the next one!” It’s a boy with the brightest and whitest smile you have ever seen and for a second you can forget your sadness.
“Thank you so much. What name do you want me to sign?”
The book signing ends about half an hour later. You’re in the car with Minghao who’s typing something on his phone as he sits in the backseat with you.
“You did great, you know.” He says, not looking up. His words make your stomach turn uncomfortably even though you know he means well.
“Thanks,” is your mumbled response, your head slowly turning to look out of the window. Minghao sets down his phone, realizing his words didn’t come out the way he wanted them to. He sighs.
“Best friend dearest,” he starts, “you know what I meant. Considering you have been in your room with no lights on and Adele on repeat for the last few months - you did exceptionally well socializing with people you don’t know.”
“It’s my job after all, isn’t it?”
“No, your job is writing brilliant books, Y/N. This is just a bonus. Your books would sell wonderfully even without you doing this.”
Three months ago this would have made your chest fill with pride. You’d be beaming and agreeing with Minghao, content with your life and what you had made it to be. But now, it’s different.
Now, all you feel is ache in your chest. No sense of pride, no smile in sight. No contentment with how your life is going. Joy has been missing in your palette of feelings for a long time.
The city lights are what keep you awake. Exhaustion and the feeling of sadness that you have become so used to are close to make you falter, to make you want to go home and put those Adele songs right back on repeat. It’s not fair, you think. Not fair that your life was ruined this way and you can’t get back up. That all you’re able to do is live because you have to, not because you want to. And the closer July 17th comes - the more you feel yourself falling deeper into a hole.
It’s hard to believe that three months ago you were a completely different person. A person who loved to laugh, who had fun game nights with her friends, cooked every day, went for runs in the morning, planned a wedding. You were a person who loved to love. All of this was accompanied by the person you had been sure you’d spend the rest of your life with: Jaehyun. He was tall, handsome, kind. You had met him through work - he had been assigned your agent when you switched publishers. He was your muse. Helped you with your books, made the sales sky rocket with the way he marketed you.
For five years he was your everything. In some ways (ways you loathed) he still is. Your whole life revolved around him. Wherever you went - he did too. Whenever you fell - he was there to catch you. Nothing in the world could have ever prepared you for what was going to happen. But then again, when is someone ever prepared to be cheated on by the person they trusted the most in their life?
To say it was a shock would be an understatement. Accidentally finding the messages he sent to her on his iPad. Confronting him and seeing his face fall, his expressions change into something you had never thought possible. He looked caught. Mainly because he was. Also because he never thought the truth would come to light. You had been the only one left in the dark. Everyone at the publishing house knew what he was doing. He and her.
It wasn’t fair, you knew that, but in the beginning you couldn’t handle being mad at Jaehyun. Instead you focused all your anger on her, all the hurt you felt. It wasn’t like you had particularly liked her before - she was your rival, the person everyone always compared you to. She was younger than you, didn’t have as much experience - but she was more successful. At least to an extent. Her books regularly went viral on ‘booktok’, mainly because she wrote them like she worked in a factory. Every couple of months there’d be a new one - and people ate it up. You, on the other hand, liked to take your time, liked to write stories with captivating characters, with characters people could relate to - fall in love with.
Suddenly your biggest rival became the person you hated and wanted to be like the most in the world. To be her would mean to have him. Him, who you still love so much, who still means everything.
It is a little different now. 100 days later and you feel like you don’t love him as much anymore. Yes, it still hurts like hell and, yes, you want to stay home most of the days. But you don’t miss him as much as you used to.
“Do you want to grab a drink?” Minghao asks now even though he already knows the answer. Gosh, you wish you could give him a yes. A smile and a yes. Instead, you only present him with the first, stretching out your hand and reaching for his.
“I need to get home, Hao. Today has been a lot.”
Minghao nods slowly, a sad smile on his pretty lips. He understands, he really does. But he also misses his happy best friend. Misses the way your eyes crinkle when you smile wholeheartedly , misses the sound of you honest laugh. No matter how many time will pass, he doesn’t think he could ever forgive Jaehyun for what he’s done to you.
Fighting with a french man on the phone at the crack of dawn surely had not been on your agenda for today.
“I’m sorry, miss, but the cancellation period ended two weeks ago, there is nothing we can do.”
It’s too early and you are too tired. He is probably too by now, considering he has been saying this sentence at least five times in the past seven minutes. You pull a hand through your hair and let it drop back onto the mattress after.
“My wedding isn’t happening anymore, and you really won’t let me cancel the honeymoon suite?” Usually, you’d never snap at anyone over the phone - especially custom service personnel, but this is different. What he’s implying means you won’t get any money back from one of the most expensive purchases you’ve made. Worst thing about this: you paid for this yourself. Jaehyun had paid the location - which of course could still be canceled. But the freaking hotel stay in Paris of course was set in stone!
“I am very sorry, miss. I wish there was more that I could do. Perhaps you can take the trip yourself and enjoy our beautiful honeymoon sui-“
You hang up on him. It’s not polite, you’re aware. But just the thought of being alone in the suite you were supposed to enjoy with your freshly baked husband… no, absolutely not. Then, fine, you’d have to live with having spent thousands of dollars on a hotel suite you wouldn’t be able to use.
As if life isn’t horrible enough already.
When you sit at brunch later that day with Minghao and your mutual friend Mingyu, they both stare at you like you’ve just told them you decided to get Jaehyun’s face tattooed on your thigh.
“Are you kidding me? You basically get to have a Paris vacation for free for yourself!” Mingyu says, the glass of mimosa he is holding in his hand is almost spilling with the way he moves his arm. You scoff.
“What do you mean “free”? I literally paid for it months ago!”
“Okay, and did you already make that money back?” Mingyu continues and raises his brow. You stay silent for a moment.
The restaurant Minghao chose is filled with people enjoying the vegan food made from scratch. Your own very delicious avocado toast with a side of fresh fruit and soy-yogurt is laying in front of you, waiting to be eaten. The mimosa Minghao had ordered for you remains untouched.
“She has.” Hao decides to answer for you as he sips from his mug of matcha. You shoot him a glare.
“So what! I’m not going to go to Paris by myself when this was supposed to be my honeymoon!” You try to stay quiet, looking from Minghao to Mingyu and back. Judging by their faces, they don’t seem to understand the big deal.
You envy them. God, how much you wish you could just do it. Go on that already paid for vacation by yourself, not give a single damn about Jaehyun and his new girlfriend. Your heart sinks. Just thinking these words is making you feel like crawling back into bed.
Minghao groans and puts his mug back on the table.
“Y/N,” he starts and his voice sounds more serious than you’ve ever heard him talk before - even Mingyu seems startled, “I get it, okay? I get that he hurt you, that he made you believe in something that was never going to work. He is an asshole, if not the biggest asshole walking freely on this earth. But you’re young! You’re young and you deserve better than this! Keeping to yourself, barely leaving your apartment - your bed, honey, it’s not good for you. I understand that you want to stay away, that the world is a fucking scary place without the person you thought was your person right there next to you,” he grabs your hand over the table, “but do you know what all of this means? That your person is still out there! That you can still find them! And what better place to start than Paris, the literal city of love!”
He means well. Just like the other night after the book signing. He means well and he wants just what’s best for you. No one wants you to feel better as much as he does. Then why does it make you so mad that he is asking this of you? That he is calling you out this way?
You pull your hand away from his and grab your purse from the free chair next to yours. Both men gawk at you, startled.
“Y/N-,” Mingyu tries, but you raise your hand to interrupt him.
“You get it, Hao? Really? Has your significant other of five years also cheated on you with your biggest rival? Did you also have to cancel a wedding you put hours and hours of work and money into? Because I don’t remember this happening to you! So, I would really appreciate it if you gave me the time I need to grieve this relationship and decide for myself when I am ready to get out again!”
Without giving them another look, you storm out of the restaurant. Everything around you is a blurr and you only notice that you’re crying when you reach your car. Cursing to yourself, you move to open your car, tears dripping from your cheeks down onto your shirt. God, what a pathetic little woman. Crying in your car after yelling at your best friends for what? For caring? For only meaning to help?
It takes a while before you manage to start the engine and get on the road to drive home. The radio is silent and for a second you wished you could turn off your brain the same way. Just one switch and all thoughts gone. All the self doubts and the hurt, all the thoughts of what-if and the wish to travel back in time and never have you take his iPad.
You stop at a red light and wipe away some more tears. You don’t dare to look into the mirror and check your make-up.
Never finding the iPad, you circle back, if you had never found it, you wouldn’t be in this situation. No, you’d most likely still be in a relationship with a man that cheated on you. That didn’t love you half as much as he claimed, that didn’t deserve the time and care you’d given him.
When the light turns green, you continue your way, your thoughts still roaming around the what if. And while your heart yearns for him back, for what you believed you had - your head knows it’s better this way. Jaehyun isn’t the one for you, as much as you would have loved him to be, Minghao is right. It’s just that the thought of starting over with someone new makes you cringe, makes fear rise within you. Someone new to give your heart to and hope they don’t break it the way Jae had.
Once you’re on the highway you think back about the time you had decided to travel to Paris for your honeymoon. It had been your idea, your wish. Your first ever book, even if it never made it onto a bestseller list or into the mouths of the best romance critics - it was set in Paris. The city of live, the city you decided would become your favorite even though you had never been. Spending two weeks there with the love of your life after becoming his forever, seriously, nothing had ever sounded as wonderful as that.
Minghao’s words ring in your ear. Your person is still out there, he said. And that Paris, as the city of love, would be the perfect place to go look for them. Your knuckles turn white around the steering wheel. You never wanted to spend time in Paris with anyone but Jaehyun.
Or maybe, you think as you take the exit leading to your neighborhood, the only Person you need to spend time with in Paris is yourself.
two; the lost soul
He never should have listened to Jeonghan. No one should ever listen to Jeonghan. The cab driver is speaking in quick french that Jihoon knows he wouldn’t understand even if he spelled out every word for him. Then again, he isn’t even sure the driver is talking to him or just about him. Jihoon can’t really blame him. After all, he is the stupid American with the stupid big guitar case and a backpack almost bigger than himself.
The backseat is hot and Jihoon’s sunglasses do little to keep the sun from blinding him.
Paris in the summer sounded better on paper than it does actually experiencing it. It’s nothing compared to the summer in Arizona, where Jihoon grew up, but having lived in Vermont for a while now, he wasn’t used to the burning hot, scorching sun that threatened to give him the sunburn of his life if he didn’t re-apply his sunscreen every few hours.
Tara had always laughed at him and his easily burned skin. She never burned, no, she got a tan right away, looking beautiful in the rays of sunshine dazzling on her skin like they belonged there.
Right now, he misses her more than he has in a while. When he passes the beautiful architecture of his first love’s favorite city, he smiles even with the sun shining directly into his eyes.
In all seriousness, Jihoon doesn’t know why he is here. It feels wrong to be here without her, but it also felt like he had to take the invitation from his friend. She would have never forgiven him, if he let this opportunity fly. Visit the city of love, the city she had always dreamt about, he knows as wrong as it feels, it’s the right thing to do.
A few minutes later, the cab stops in front of an old looking building. Without saying anything, the driver takes Jihoon’s Euros and drives off after heaving Jihoon’s suitcase out of his trunk.
Jihoon looks after the car, his dark hair falling into his forehead. Once the cab takes the next corner, he looks at the building, something stirring in his stomach. This… doesn’t look like the pictures on AirBnb at all. Quickly, he fishes his phone out of his pocket, happy he booked the data package at the airport back home. Opening his app, he feels like he’s about to throw up his airplane food.
It’s not there. The apartment is gone from the app, not newly put in under a different name, not just gone because of a glitch. It’s like it never existed. Jihoon curses, moving his fingers over his screen, calling the customer service only to be met with a french speaking automatic voice that doesn’t help him in the slightest.
Hanging up again, he stares at his phone for a few seconds. He shouldn’t have come. It feels too much like a sign. Maybe he should try changing his flight to this evening, maybe he should try to run after that cab and-
The phone in his hands rings and he quickly picks up.
“Hello?”
“Jihoonie!” It’s Jeonghan, the only reason he is in Paris in the first place, “did you make it to the city of love?”
“Yeah, and I wish I didn’t,” Jihoon mumbles in response, brushing his hair out of his face.
“Why? What happened?” Jeonghan does sound concerned, which might be a first.
“My Airbnb doesn’t exist.”
Silence. Jihoon just knows his friend is trying his hardest not to laugh. Oh, to be Yoon Jeonghann and always get entertained by his friends’ miseries.
“Jeonghan, this isn’t funny, okay? I’m about to call another cab and get my ass back home.”
“No! No, you can’t go home! You’re here and I’m going to make sure these will be two of the most amazing weeks of your life, alright? Look, instead of home, get your ass to my hotel. I think I might have a solution for your problem.”
When Jeonghan texts him the address and Jihoon hails another cab, he doesn’t dare to hope that his friend has an actual solution.
Perhaps Jihoon should have asked Jeonghan more thoroughly what kind of Hotel he works at. Because this looks very different to the building Jihoon just left. This is art, this is a fancy hotel in the middle of Paris’ most elegant streets, people in expensive clothes walking around Jihoon who has only a backpack and a guitar on his back. Jihoon gapes at the building, words he has read a million times suddenly filling his head, suddenly coming to life.
The façade of the hotel stands proudly on the bustling Parisian street, an exquisite testament to classical elegance and modern charm. The building’s cream-colored stonework is adorned with intricate carvings and ornate embellishments, each detail meticulously crafted to perfection. Above the entrance, a grand arch frames a large window, its glass shimmering in the soft light of the early evening.
Striped blue-and-white awnings shade the windows, their cheerful colors contrasting beautifully with the building’s stately architecture. Delicate wrought-iron balconies extend from the upper floors, offering glimpses of lush potted plants and inviting chairs, perfect for an intimate evening under the stars.
The entrance is framed by deep blue columns, and a passageway, warm light spills out from within, hinting at the luxurious interior that awaits guests. A pair of elegant lanterns flank the doorway, casting a gentle glow on the stone steps below.
Above the entrance, a crest adorned with elaborate scrollwork and a regal shield stands as a proud emblem of the hotel’s storied history. The name of the hotel is etched in graceful letters, a promise of the enchanting experience that lies within.
He doesn’t dare to move from where he is standing. Doesn’t dare to step foot into the hotel that looks exactly the way he had envisioned the one Tara would always read to him. Goosebumps erupt all over his skin and he swears there are tears threatening to spill out of his eyes. This must be a dream, a different reality, because there is no way Jeonghan works here.
But when Jihoon lets his eyes wander over the façade and into one of the magnificent windows - he spots his friend. Spots him on the phone behind the wooden counter, writing something down. He is here and this is real.
So, Jihoon slowly moves. One foot before the other, eyes glued to the entrance, nis heart beating in his chest. He feels silly, but he wonders if Tara had seen this as clear as he had back when she had read the book to him over and over again.
A welcome warmth meets Jihoon inside. It’s just as beautiful as the outside, he finds, his stomach turning over once more.
The lobby exudes a warm, inviting glow, courtesy of the golden chandeliers that hang from the high ceilings, casting a soft light over the polished marble floors. Rich hues of deep blue and soft gold dominate the color palette, creating a sense of opulence and sophistication. Jeonghan stands behind the mahogany desk, still talking on the phone, still not spotting Jihoon.
Jihoon, who feels so insanely out of place in his worn out jeans and the old leather jacket, with his hair unkempt and his eyebrow pierced. He moves over to the front desk, trying his hardest not to care about the stares he is getting from the people who clearly know he doesn’t actually belong here.
Jeonghan’s eyes light up when he sees him, a wide smile now on his lips as he holds up a finger as if to tell Jihoon to just be a little more patient. Jihoon carefully puts his hands on the top of the counter, his eyes roaming the lobby again.
“Of course, we can’t wait to have you back here again so soon, Miss Jones. Have a great day, bye bye!”
Jihoon’s eyes fly over to Jeonghan again when he hears the phone click.
“You’re actually here!” Jeonghan’s smile grows and he moves forward to give Jihoon probably the most awkward hug of his life over the counter. Jihoon laughs at that, patting his friend on the back.
“Well, it’s either this or the streets,” he smiles, “you never told me how… grant all of this is.” He gestures with his hands, as if to make sure Jeonghan knows he means the hotel. His blonde haired friend chuckles.
“Yeah, I thought it would come off like bragging if I did say so. I never would have heard the end of it from the boys.”
Jihoon nods. He knows exactly what Jeonghan means. Still. He can’t shake the feeling that if he had known about this… his stomach drops again.
“It’s beautiful.” Is all he eventually says, ignoring the worried look of his friend. Jihoon doesn’t know (and Jeonghan will never tell him) but there was a reason he had never mentioned this to him.
“That, it is,” Jeonghan finally responds, wiping the worry off his face and replacing it with a broad smile, “and you will get to live here for the next two weeks!”
“I will what?!” Jihoon’s eyes widen in surprise, “Jeonghan, I can barely pay rent at home, what do you-,”
“Obviously for free, dummy,” Jeonghan chuckles, “we have a free suite that has already been paid for, full price.”
Jihoon raises his brows, his hands feeling damp on top of the fancy counter.
“How come it’s free when it’s fully paid?” He asks.
“Well, there was supposed to be a wedding and…. now there isn’t one. They didn’t meet the requirements for the full or the partial refund. So, it’s free for the next two weeks since we can’t legally double book. You want it?”
It feels a little bit too good to be true, but Jihoon is in no place to turn down Jeonghan’s offer. The little voice in his head is trying to get to him, trying to make him speak the words to himself. It tries to get him to admit that this feels a lot like fate. Like a sign from above, from Tara. He doesn’t let it get to him. He’s not ready for that, and he’s certainly not melancholic enough for thoughts like this - even as a songwriter.
“I do, thank you, Han, I honestly don’t know what I’d do without you right now.”
“Oh, most certainly sleep on the streets. Find a rat for a friend, or maybe a pigeon. They are crazy over here,” Jeonghan sings as he types something in the computer, scanning one of the key cards he takes from the drawer beneath him. Jihoon watches him with his heartbeat in his ears.
“Yeah, never been a big fan of rats. Or pigeons.” Jihoon dares to look around the lobby again, seeing all those people living their life, probably never worried about any of the things he worries about. He wasn’t lying when he said he has trouble paying his rent. Work hasn’t been easy these days.
“Aaaaand, here we go!” Jeonghan grins brightly, “your key, Mr. Lee.” He holds it mid air, pulling it back slightly as Jihoon is trying to grab it. The latter gives him a funny look. Jeonghan pouts as he thinks.
“That rhymes. “Your key, Mr. Lee”.” Jihoon closes his eyes for a second. Jeonghan chuckles happily.
“Watch out, I’m coming for your job.”
“Well, stop it and do yours instead,” Jihoon replies, allowing himself to grin back at his friend and take the card from his hands, “where is this suite you promised me?”
-
Jeonghan hadn’t mentioned what kind of suite this is. There is nothing Jihoon can do but stare at his surroundings with his mouth and backpack dropped, his guitar slowly sliding down his arm.
He is in the honeymoon suite. In retrospect, it makes sense. Jeonghan did say a wedding had been canceled.
There are three rooms. Right now, Jihoon is standing in the enormous entrance way. Golden and blue like downstairs, with wood accents, a big round table in the center of the room that connected all the different rooms, a centerpiece of flowers as beautiful as a summer day adjoining it. The walls are high and plastered with fine drawing, ornating through all of the hallway and over to the other rooms. Flowers and patterns so elegant Jihoon doesn’t know how to even describe them.
He feels out of place as much as he feels content. Letting his luggage rest on the floor, he moves into the first room. It’s a large sitting room, probably as big as his whole apartment back at home. Two couches of rich dark blue; cushions in different colors, some of them reminding Jihoon of the ocean, some of the sky, rich blues and light blues, and then there is the color of dawn, orange and yellow.
A majestic cremé colored carpet lays beneath the sofas, a glass table standing between them. On top of it magazine stacks and a glass tray holding what looks like whiskey and two glasses. High windows let the sun shine through and Jihoon spots a balcony leading around the living- and bedroom, holding his breath as he imagines himself out there softly strumming his guitar with a glass of whiskey or wine. His heart warms at the thought of finally having peace. Peace in the city his former lover had loved so much.
Next up he walks into the bedroom, a king sized bed greets him with white linen covers and pillows almost as big as his torso. It looks incredibly comfortable and he couldn’t wait to lay down and relax after the day he’s had. Golden curtains sway in the wind let in by an opened window, and the view is so poetic he almost feels himself tear up. Quickly, he looks away and instead finds his way into the master bathroom. It’s all held in gold as well, gold and white for a change, an enormous tub next to a high rain shower behind a glass wall. He sighs.
This is perfect. And he most definitely needs a shower right now.
So, he retraces his steps and grabs his luggage, setting everything down next to the bed and letting his guitar rest in the corner of the room. He decides to actually unpack his backpack that probably doesn’t even hold as much clothes as he probably needs for this trip (he did think he had a washer, though) and places everything in the large closet opposite the bed.
Finding himself humming, Jihoon allows a little bit more of that earlier peace to find place in his head and heart. Perhaps there is no reason for him to be worried - to look for something to go terribly wrong on this trip. Jeonghan is off work by now, and they’ll go catch dinner together, then he’ll come back here and maybe watch a movie, fall asleep to the sound of Paris outside his window. He doesn’t know what it sounds like just yet, but he’s already excited to find out.
Ridding himself of his clothes and feeling another threat of tears when he touches the towels hanging in the bathroom, Jihoon finally lets himself step into the shower and wash all of his worries away.
three; the mix-up
You don’t think your heart has ever beaten as fast as it does when you walk out the Charles de Gaulle airport and right into the arms of the driver Minghao has arranged for you. It’s not about the driver or the airport - but where you are.
Paris, the city of love, the city you feared to visit after what had happened with Jae. Yet, here you stand. Handing the driver your luggage and fishing for your phone in your purse, texting Minghao you already found your driver and are now on the way to the hotel. It all feels surreal and like you’re going to wake up any second.
Minghao forgave you without hesitation. Hugged you close to his chest and cried with you as you told him you were sorry and that he was right. You needed to do this - needed to face your demons. Together, the two of you had finalized the plans, popping open a bottle of expensive champagne and gossiping about Jaehyun and who he left you for. Little by little, you knew, you would find yourself again. And perhaps Paris was the perfect way to start.
The drive from the airport to the hotel was spent staring out the window. First you saw the highway leading from the airport to the city - greenery with trees on each side, all passing by you in a blurr. And then the beautiful streets of Paris. The fine architecture, the elegant bridges over the Seine. Heart warming at the sight of the city you dreamt about so much. Your first ever book had taken place right here, you had let your main characters kiss for the first time right there on that bridge leading from one side of Paris to the other, so close to the Louvre, to the glass pyramid you made them fight and make up all the same, just months apart. The sun is dazzling onto the dark water of the river, light dancing on the surface.
The driver comes to a stop in front of the hotel about 45 minutes after your departure from Charles de Gaulle. He holds open the door for you and helps you out of the car, smiling at you warmly and finally getting your bags out of the trunk. You thank him in some broken French and he nods at you before finding his way back to the driver’s seat.
One of the bell-boys spot you right when you walk in, their English sounding a bit like your French just now. You thank them and hand over your luggage, letting them help you carry it to the mahogany reception.
It is exactly like you remember it. You had never seen it in person, no. But you’ve found this hotel during your research, falling in love with it right away. It was a no-brainer that your honeymoon was to be held here.
You felt overwhelmed at the sight of the colors you had tried so hard to bring to paper, at the sound of soft music in the background, at the knowledge this was real and you were gonna stay here for two whole weeks.
Finally, you reach the counter where a small man stands and smiles up at you, his hair styled back.
“Welcome, how can I help you?” He says in perfect English and you place your hands on top of the counter.
“Hi,” you tell him your name, “I have a reservation.”
The man nods, looking up the reservation and finding it right away. Not marked as checked in, he notes and gives you another big smile.
“It is wonderful to have you, Miss. Will your husband be joining you?”
You expected as much. While it does hurt a little, having to say these next words, you know it’s a step in the right direction.
“I will be staying here alone, thank you.”
It is more beautiful than you could have imagined and it takes you a whole lot not to start crying. Your luggage gets brought up by the nice bell-boys and you thank them by tipping them each 50 Euros. Their smiles make the loss of the money worthwhile.
Once the door closes behind them, you dare to look around. See the beautiful entrance way in all its glory. See the living room in all it’s elegance, the high ceiling and windows, the smaller bedroom with a queen sized bed and a little reading nook, two ceiling high bookshelves standing around a comfortable looking loveseat. This must be what heaven looks like.
There is nothing that can wipe that smile off your face. Everything inside you tingles with happy excitement, moving to go look at the master bedroom with the on-suite bathroom you remembered staring at for at least five minutes when you booked the room. Imagining yourself in the enormous bathtub with a glass of champagne and classical music playing, letting all the stress and hurt from the past months fade away with the notes.
You don’t notice the closet and how there are clothes hanging inside it. Neither do you see the guitar case in the corner of the room. It fascinates you - how your mind tricks you into thinking you already hear the sound of water running, accompanied by humming along to a tune. Magnificent, what the mind can do.
When you finally reach for the doorknob to push it down, yanking the door open in one swift move, you realize perhaps your mind isn’t as magnificent as you thought.
Jihoon doesn’t notice you until you scream. He swirls around, which is inherently a foolish thing to do inside a wet, slippery shower, his eyes widening whe spots you, reacting to your scream by screaming himself. He realizes he’s naked and tries to find something to cover him, taking a step forward to reach for the towel and forgetting there is literally a glass wall separating you two.
Watching the man walk face-first into the glass and stumbling back, slipping on the wet floors and falling onto his ass would have made you laugh if it wasn’t inside your shower.
“What the hell!” You yell, turning around so you don’t look at the naked man any longer.
“Who are you?!” He yells back and you almost gasp.
“I should ask you that!”
The two of you need to yell because Jihoon has not yet managed to turn the shower off. Only now does he (while rubbing his hurting back) get up, struggling in the process, his hand finding the lever to turn off the water. His nose hurts and his ass and his back.
He moves out of the shower without running into glass this time, and wraps one of the soft towels around his waist.
“I’m Jihoon,” he finally says. You think you’re suddenly stuck in a really bad movie.
“That- you’re telling me your name?!” You turn around again, staring at the stranger with disbelief in your eyes.
“You did ask who I was, didn’t you?”
For a few moments the two of you continue to stare at each other. With every passing second you notice just how naked he is. Yes, there is a towel around him now, but you certainly did not… miss what was under there when you first walked in. As much as you don’t want to, your eyes scan the stranger, or well, Jihoon as he told you, stopping at his wet torso, the defined abs and the broad chest. He might be small in height but the rest of him seems… big.
You swallow.
“If you’re done checking me out, would you mind telling me why you’re in my room?”
Heat spreads through your body and right into your face, your eyes jumping from his torso to his face.
“Your room? I’m sorry, this is my room!”
While Jihoon did hit his head, he isn’t hurt enough not to understand that you’re most likely telling the truth. But Jeonghan had said the wedding was off… that you wouldn’t come here. So, why on earth, where you here?
“I- I can explain,” he begins, taking a step forward only for you to take a step backward. He holds out his hand as if to signal he wasn’t going to do anything.
“Go right ahead,” you hate that your voice is shaking, but it��s not like it is an everyday occurrence you find a beautiful stranger in your hotel room. If this wasn’t your actual life but a book this might have been sexy, might have led to the bed behind you finding the two strangers entangled, giving in to the sexual tension between them. Not that there was any of that in this situation.
“My friend, Jeonghan, he- he works here. He told me this suite wouldn’t be used and so I- well he asked me if I wanted to stay here for my trip after I told him my airbnb didn’t actually exist and I needed a, uh, a place to stay.”
You blink at him.
“He just- he gave you my honeymoon suite for free?
Jihoon swallows.
“Well…,” he thinks a little longer on his answer, “yes. Yes, he did.”
Telling the truth is probably his best bet.
You take a deep breath, turning away from him, clenching and unclenching your hands.
“As you can see, I am here. So, please, find somewhere else to stay.”
Jihoon saw it coming, obviously. It was all too good to be true. Without saying anything else, he walks over to the closet, ready to dress himself. Just that he didn’t quite calculate the new luggage now laying in front of the bed.
It all seems to happen in slow motion.
Jihoon tripping over your suitcase, his hands desperate trying to find something to hold on to before he falls. As if on reflex, you grab his arm, yanking him up so he doesn’t fall flatly on his face, just that you somehow manage to yank him so hard, you fall off balance. With a high pitched squeak, you fall onto the bed, Jihoon landing on top of you, his towel falling off in the process of the fall and save.
A naked man is on top of you, brown eyes wide with shock staring into yours. His hands somehow moved right to the sides of your head as if to catch himself from falling even further on top of you.
You can feel him. Feel his breath on your face, his skin on yours, his friend against your thigh. More heat rises, your face, your neck, your chest, your core. It’s bad. This shouldn’t be happening right now.
The two of you are so engulfed in the moment, you don’t even realize when the door opens yet again. When voices you would normally recognize without trouble seem to fail your ears this time. Jihoon’s face so close to yours - way too distracting.
“What the fuck?!”
Realization hits you at the same time as recognition and you gasp, your knee coming up, right into Jihoon’s lower parts, a yelp escaping him as he slides off the bed, hands now covering his private area and his face in a grimace of sheer pain.
You don’t even notice it. Not really, at least. Now it’s not his face that’s distracting you but the one you used to love for so many years.
“Jaehyun?” You whisper. And for a second you think he came here to make amends, to win you back, to get on his knees and apologize - then you spot her walking in, her eyes scanning the room with distaste.
“Who is that?” Jaehyun asks and you feel your blood boil.
“What are you doing here?” You ignore his question. He isn’t looking at you, but at Jihoon still on the floor.
“Oh, well, you know. We thought that it would be such a waste to let this suite go to waste,” it is her who answers you now, her deep red manicured hands now curling around Jaehyun’s biceps.
This bitch. Your blood starts boiling. Anger makes you see red.
“You brought her here?” You hiss at Jaehyun who has the decency to look guilty at least. You snort. Then, your eyes find Jihoon who’s still on the ground, Jihoon who is still naked. Jihoon, who desperately needs a place to stay.
God knows what makes you do what you do next. Desperation? Foolery? Who knows. But you move to help Jihoon up, grabbing the towel and holding it in front of his lower half.
“Y/N,” Jaehyun starts but you interrupt him.
“I see that we both had the idea to bring our new partners, or in your case old partner, to the suite we booked together, Jae. But since I was the one who paid for it, I would kindly ask you to leave.”
New partner. Jihoon needs a few seconds before he grasps what you just said.
“New- new what?” He mumbles, but you clear your throat to drown out his voice. Jaehyun’s face is priceless and you don’t want the bluff to be uncovered so quickly.
“That is your new boyfriend?” She asks, her brows raised. You can see that she’s checking him out - his abs, his cest, his pretty face. It makes your insides turn with hatred and disgust.
“Got a problem, Sierra?” You reply, your jaw tense. Her eyes only briefly meet yours.
“Oh, absolutely not. I’m glad to see you finally got out of that moping phase, honey. It really didn’t suit you.”
Your grip around the towel tightens.
Slowly, Jihoon begins to understand what is going on. Who these people are. There was supposed to be a wedding and a honeymoon, but neither of these happened. You are the bride, or well, were supposed to be the bride. And he, the man you called Jaehyun and who had caused all the color to fade from your face, surely seems to be the groom who… never got to be the groom. And judging by the way you reacted to him and her, he guesses the reason the wedding didn’t happen was… the woman you’d called Sierra.
Blinking a few times, Jihoon realized that you were trying to convince him that he was your new boyfriend. That you had brought him here, to this hotel. It was ridiculous and straight out of a bad movie, but somehow… even if he didn’t know you, he felt like he should help you. And so, he let his arm wrap around your waist, catching you by surprise.
“I would kindly ask you to leave us be. You have done enough.”
Your head swirled to look at the man next to you. His stern face and his wet hair. Drops of water sliding down the side of his neck.
“How long has this been going on?” Jaehyun asks, ignoring Jihoon’s request. You turn to look at him again.
“That’s none of your business. You heard him, Jae. Leave. This isn’t your room anymore.”
Another beat of silence falls between the four of you. You try your best to ignore Sierra and cling onto Jihoon’s hand like it was the only saving grace. Perhaps that was true. Holding Jae’s gaze and trying to calm down your hurting heart, your wishes to throw something at him.
“Fine. I heard the honeymoon suite in the Hilton is much nicer than this one, baby.”
It is then that you see it. The rings on her finger. Your stomach drops. He married her. Oh, you’re about to throw up. Jihoon seems to notice your change of emotions, quickly clearing his throat.
“Great. Have fun in Paris then.”
He carefully takes the towel from your hand, wrapping it around him fully again. Then, he looks at you. The overwhelming urge to give you a hug is almost unbearable.
“Maybe,” Jaehyun said, “since we are both seeing other people and have moved on - we could grab dinner sometime this week. All of us.”
Jihoon sees the way your eyes shake at the suggestion. And he is just about to say no, that that’s not a good idea, when you push your shoulder back and hold your head high.
“What a lovely idea. We’d love to, isn’t that right, baby?” You interlock your fingers with Jihoon’s and he stares at you for just a second, before nodding.
“Sure,” he breathes out, looking at Jaehyun and Sierra.
It most certainly isn’t a lovely idea, he is well aware of that. This whole thing isn’t a good idea. But here he is. Holding the hand of a woman he barely met twenty minutes ago. A woman who has seen him naked, a woman who had his half hard cock against the inside of her thigh. A woman he had been closer to than any other in the last five years.
No, this wasn’t a good idea. This was an awful, horrible idea that could only go so, so wrong.
#svthub#svthub.collab#svt fanfiction#woozi x reader#jihoon x reader#lee jihoon x reader#kvanity#thediamondlifenet#seventeen fanfiction#seventeen x reader#svt au#svt imagine#woozi imagine#woozi au#woozi fanfic#jihoon au#jihoon fanfiction#jihoon fanfic#jihoon x you#woozi x you#svt fic#seventeen fic#woozi fic
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gimme a crack fic where they accidentally(?) kill gerrard and have to cover it up. like. everyone is sick of the guy obvs but they've tried removing him as captain with no luck so they're intent on making his life hell while he's around - laxatives in his coffee, only having vegan food in the kitchen, etc. type of stuff. but then they find gerrard dead and everyone is like: ok which one of you finally killed the guy?? and we get flashbacks of everyone doing something that indavertantly led to gerrard's death; i don't know what specifically but some of it is probably illegal or at least against firehouse policy - but it was for personal reasons or for a call, nothing to do with gerrard - and other stuff was just completely unwitting happenstance. and everyone wonders if what they did was the thing that killed him, and they're piecing it all together and realising: oh shit did we all kill him?? a comedy of errors. and it looks bad. i mean, objectively it could be seen as an accident but if someone were to look close enough it looks like a carefully planned murder made to look like an accident and they're all complicit. and i want the folks outside the firehouse to be a mix of clueless then clued-in then helping run interference like: gimme maddie diverting calls, karen bringing her expertise and self to the table somehow, tommy knows his engines, and ofc there's athena who has no qualms covering shit up to protect her firefam. it's a team effort all around and there are numerous close calls - maybe they even moved his body from the firehouse to a construction site or something, everyone bickering as they try to figure out the best way to do it, and at one point they put him down and he just- rolls away down a hill or something and they have to scurry after his body. gimme comedy, i want the crack but treated semi serioiusly. and then when all is said and done and the death is ruled an accident and bobby gets reinstated as captain, right at the end something surfaces that was forgotten about like maybe ravi (who was absent for the whole thing) finds a severed finger under the engine in the firehouse and is like: umm, guys? and it's gerrard's finger of course and it's just deer-in-headlights looks all round and someone chimes in with: that's a funny story, actually..
and bonus: we get ravi after storytime be like: huh. yknow i would've thought the rat poison (or whathaveyou) i put in his coffee woulda done the trick. and everyone has this realisation of: OH it was RAVI. anyway it's a happy ending and ravi drops the finger in the trash as they all head out when the alarm sounds.
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hi here's my take on the gravity falls kids grown up since they're 25 now
Mason "Dipper" Pines
after wierdmaggedan and disposing of the journals, he still has a keen interest in mysteries, just not necessarily of a supernatural nature. he's aware of the supernatural that's all around them, but content to let it rest.
he gets really into history and archeology, and bonds more with ford about this - even though ford is a physicist, he appreciates dipper's enthusiasm
he's trans (i'll die on this hill) and continues to socially transition in high school, and starts testosterone around 16.
he also starts going more by his chosen name (mason, choosing one that starts similarly to mabel) but still lets close friends and family call him dipper. he stops covering his birthmark, though he still likes hats
he's suspicious of mabel's new friendship with pacifica in high school, but he warms up to pacifica ("paz," as they end up calling her) over time. he realizes they have a lot in common and she's actually a lot of help on his mystery hunting
paz's blooming interest in political science lends itself very much to his interest in history, and they spend lots of hours as teen up late on the phone together (seemingly everyone but them can see the writing on the wall, but it takes a few more years for them to realize their feelings)
he continues to be a massive nerd, and has at least one dd&md podcast he religiously listens to. he and mabel go to conventions in california together.
his favorite place remains gravity falls over the years, and he goes back at least once each summer.
he and pacifica both commit to UCLA and become closer there. he majors in archeology & anthropology. despite their very different social circles, they seek each other out. she has at least one twat boyfriend in freshman year that dipper confronts on her behalf (even though she didn't want him to)
he and paz almost kiss at his going away party for a semester abroad in greece, but he panics and runs off, leaving her confused and hurt. it takes a while for them to regain their footing, but they end up hooking up the night he comes back from greece. due to a comedy of errors they don't end up *going all the way* that night, and it's not until they're at the pool a week later that she realizes he's trans when she sees his top surgery scars (thanks rockslide @ ao3)
he was 99% sure she knew so it's a surprise moment for him, and he worries she won't be interested now, but she's pretty non-plussed. they start dating that summer.
her parents disapprove and she ends up putting her foot down and cutting them off for how they treat him, and his family ends up practically adopting her. they are each other's biggest supporters in everything.
he gets offered a spot in a phd program in london, which stresses him out until he finds out that paz applied for a posting at the us embassy in london and got it, so they move to england together
he studies pre-modern civilizations and religious rites (a la stonehenge, etc) and has just finished his coursework and moved from phd student to candidate. he's just started to write his dissertation on potentially matriarchal societies in pre-modern britain using burial site data from major burial sites of religious significance.
he and paz have a cat name tyrone, or ty. they've been together for almost four years now, and he's thinking about popping the question - they're young (25), but he's pretty certain that for him, it's always going to be paz.
#gravity falls#trans dipper pines#dipper x pacifica#dipper pines#dipcifica#mabel pines#mason pines#pacifica northwest
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LOVELY RIVALRY ♡ NI-KI ONESHOT
✷ in which your academic rival! niki just can't seem to get off your nerves
academic rival! n.rk x afab!reader︲highschool au, fluff, romance, comedy, enemies to lovers︲nicknames, teasing, cursing, grammar and spelling errors︲3.5k / more
─── ♡
“i have to study if i want to score higher than niki on this chemistry test! i love you guys but i don’t have time to hang out,” you stressed to your friends at lunch. you put your hand back to your forehead as you looked back down to your notebook on the table.
you spun your pencil in your free hand while revising your notes. the words, numbers, and diagrams on the paper slowly merging into one big jumble in your mind. the more you looked at it, the more you felt there was to forget.
“how are you still studying dumbass? that shit was so easy,” said a voice behind you. that voice being easily recognizable, as it would be the one you bicker with every. single. day.
“fuck off, i was literally sick for 3 days,”
“okay? i probably could’ve been done with all that material and more in the same amount of time,” you turned your head back to look at the boy towering over you. you rolled your eyes upon seeing him smirk at you with a smug expression on his face.
there he was running his fingers through his styled hair pushing it backwards. you looked him up and down and saw him adjust his denim jacket zipping part of it up.
“you’re so immature, get out of my face dipshit,” you snort, not ready to deal with him. you had your final for chemistry next class and you couldn’t be wasting time for chit-chat. especially with niki of all people.
he rolled his eyes at your response and walked off with his juice box in hand swiftly making his way towards his friends
─── ♡
you made your way to your locker whilst one of your karina, your best friend practice quizzed you using the flashcards you made for the test. you opened your locker to find your favorite candy and a note with your name on it.
“good luck on the test ____. i’m sure you’ll do great”
you read the note, then looked back at the candy.
“what’s that?” karina called from behind you waiting for you.
“some random person dropped my favorite candy and a note in my locker,” you responded back examining the note and its handwriting. the writing was in pen and you could tell it was clearly written with lots of care.
“well it wasn’t me, cmon hurry up you’re going to miss your own final,” karina called out slowly starting to back away and towards the classroom door.
“yeah yeah im coming, dont leave me.”
you slowly closed your locker and shoved the candy into your backpack. you crumpled the note and shoved it into the back pocket of your pants hastily hoping no one would see it and assume stuff of you.
─── ♡
“that’s gotta be the worst i’ve ever done on a final, let alone a chemistry final,” you sighed coming out of the classroom.
“oh come on, you say that every single time and you score the highest. ‘i did the worst’ or ‘i bombed that test’,” your karina replied, mocking your distress, starting to walk down the hall at a slow pace waiting for you.
“is what it is i guess, what else can i really do,” you shrugged.
“really bombed that test huh, even with all that studying. guess you’re really not all that,” a voice sneered behind you. you rolled your eyes upon hearing that familiar voice.
you turned around to find the familiar boy towering above you with his arms crossed, his dark brown eyes staring down at you. his lips curled into a smirk seeing your distress firsthand.
“what now niki, come here to harass me and brag to me that you did better? cause jeez it’s like you want my attention or something so i’ll tell you what. i’ve run out of shits to give to you, or anyone for that matter, so why don’t you go fuck off and stop talking to me, because all you do is follow me around and berate me,” you snapped at him. you knew he was probably smart enough to score higher than you but you had too much pride to admit it.
you watched as he scrunched his nose upon hearing your snappy response. you followed his eyes as they bounced from his folder in hand, to the clock, then to you.
you watched as he simply turned to walk away from the situation itself and away from you. something irked you about the way he didn’t respond to any of your rude distasteful comments and just stood there and took it.
“niki! wait please!” you shouted running after him after a good distance was built between the two of you.
he turned upon hearing your voice, “yeah?”
“im sorry that was really rude. im just stressed about the test, i shouldn’t have gotten pissed at you,” you looked down at the ground feeling guilty.
“i really want to score good this final, if I score about a 95% i can qualify for the chemistry scholarship and..” you continued, mumbling at the end.
you never saw him this up close, but from here you could see his dark brown eyes glowing with some sort of spark as he listened to you talk.
he suddenly reached out and brushed the strand of hair that fell in front of your face and tucked it behind your ear as you started to continue talking about the scholarship.
“sorry it was just in your face, hope you don’t mind,”
you felt your face flush with pink from the gesture as you blinked a couple times taking in what had just happened. “i-i um, yeah no worries,” you managed to stutter out avoiding eye contact with the tall boy.
he looked to his right at the clock, and finally spoke again, “you should probably get to lunch with your friends or something, or go back to studying for finals if you want valedictorian,” a soft smile fell on his face. an expression unfamiliar to you, especially on him.
“even though you know I’ll score higher than you anyways,” he continued, the familiar smug smirk forming on his face. you rolled your eyes like always upon hearing him say something snarky or pretentious.
you let off a small snort at his words and turned to take your leave. running to catch up to karina who looked annoyed at waiting for you so often.
“come on ____, you always take forever bickering with niki. hey why are you blushing like a school girl,”. you wanted to tell her your interaction with niki just now but decided to refrain, maybe it was just a one off thing. either way it’d be your little secret.
“nothing, just flustered from the test that’s all,” you said starting to walk to lunch. you took one look behind you to find niki staring at you.
as you made eye contact, he mouthed something but unfortunately for you, you sucked at reading lips, especially from this far away.
─── ♡
you bit your bottom lip in a nervous wreck. today would be the day you got your chemistry test back. unmotivated to go to class, you dragged your feet to your locker. karina rolled her eyes at this display tired of dealing with your shit.
“im sure you did fine, you couldn’t have bombed it that bad, for fucks sake you pulled an all nighter,”
“yeah but you know she’s the toughest grader out of all the chem teachers,” you complained as you continued to chew on your bottom lip.
you slowly clicked the numbers on your lock in order, pulling down the lock to open it. you swung the locker door open to grab your chemistry notebook. taking your notebook out, you found a note with a $20 bill clipped to it.
you furrowed your eyes in confusion. wiping the sleep out of your eyes just to make sure your eyes didn’t deceive you. you reached your right hand in to grab it holding your notebook on the left.
“the same person left me free money and a note,” you called out to karina who stood behind you waiting.
“yeah yeah that’s nice, now hurry up, the bell is gonna ring on us”
you swatted your hand at karina. “just go ahead i still need to lock my locker up,” karina nodded and ran off towards the classroom.
you looked back at the note clipped to the $20 bill in confusion.
im sure you did well, treat yourself after school to something nice.
you looked around to see if anyone was around you as if the person who wrote the note was going to be right there. you looked right and left and saw the empty halls, indicated you probably should get to class.
“shouldn’t you be at class miss wannabe valedictorian,” a low voice rang behind you.
you whipped your head around to find the familiar face raising his eyebrows at your presence in the empty halls.
“yeah i would be but i have a secret admirer that decided to leave me $20 in my locker today,” you responded back with an annoyed tone. so much for a “nice” niki, you thought to yourself. maybe yesterday had just been a one off.
“you really think $20 and candy means you have a secret admirer,” he rolled his eyes. he looked at the ticking clock soon to ring. he crossed his arms raising one eyebrow at your ‘logic’.
“what else am I supposed to think?” you paused for a moment. “wait howd you know about the candy?” you asked. you furrowed your brows again looking up at the boy.
you saw his eyes looking towards the ticking clock, and realized you should probably get to class. whatever you thought. hes probably just a creep who saw me take out candy yesterday.
─── ♡
you walked into class and slid into your seat, once again feeling a wave of anxiety wash over you. you saw niki walk in through the door soon after not even sparing a glance towards you. no smug smile, not even sticking his tongue out at you in retaliation.
“class, i must say, i’m quite disappointed with your test scores this final, many of you will have to stay after class or take summer courses to earn credit for this class” your teacher started. this only amplified your stress but all you could do was sit there and watch as she handed out tests to the rest of your classmates.
you listened as she called your name up to get your test. you quickly got up to grab it and turned it over avoiding the red mark in the top right of your test with your score.
once she finished handing out tests she made her way to the front of the class.
“as always, i’d like to give attention to our top 3 scorers,”
you waited in anticipation as she grabbed a slip of paper from her desk.
“our third highest scorer for this test was karina,” your friend held her hand to her mouth in shock. she turned to you with surprise as you cheered for her.
“our second highest scorer for this test was niki” your teacher stated plainly. you heard a holler from the back of the class from his friends.
“of course, our top scorer was _____ with full marks and extra credit,” she announced. your eyes widened hearing this and you finally flipped your test over to find no red marks apart from a ‘100/100 +2 extra credit’ written on the front.
you clasped hands with karina in excitement. you turned around and locked eyes with niki. you stuck your tongue out to mock him as payback for how much he bragged to you, to which he shrugged.
─── ♡
later that day, you made your way to the student store to buy an ice cream with the $20 your secret admirer had given you.
the student managing the store, gave a second by mistake, stressed by the crowd at the store.
you looked around seeing if there was anyone you could give it to and there you saw niki. sitting alone. which was unusual considering this was the boy who was constantly crowded by people for his good looks, or athletic ability, or sometimes even academic ability.
you approached him with a soft smile. “thanks for motivating me to do better on the test. or at least to do better than you,” you said, holding out the second ice cream bar.
he looked up at you in confusion, then to the ice cream bar. he slowly reached out, taking the bar cautiously.
“this isn’t poisoned or anything right?” he asked slowly unwrapping the bar. you rolled your eyes at the question which he took as a no.
“thanks for motivating me too. i guess.” he said, taking a bite into the cold stick of ice cream. you watched as he ate the bar quietly, his eyes falling to the floor while he ate.
“truce?” you asked. he looked up at you in confusion, blinked a couple times then nodded.
the two of you figured it was about time you exchanged numbers considering you’d spent all of your high school years competing with each other over grades, and now that it was over you wouldn’t really see each other.
─── ♡
over the course of the next few weeks, you found more and more gifts inside your locker whenever you opened it. it got to the point where you could practically expect to see something there.
you walked out of class your class to find niki standing outside waiting.
“why are you here?” you questioned. this was one of the few periods you had that you didn’t share with him.
“dunno, I have free period so I figured i could walk you to class or something,” you looked him up and down and found his stance quite relaxed.
“as a thanks for the ice cream of course, don’t think too far into it,” he continued as if to justify his previous answer. he scratched the nape of his neck while looking off to the side . you blinked at him and replied with a short and simple “sure”. you couldn’t tell if you should be thankful or what of this gesture considering it was weeks ago that you gave him ice cream.
the two of you walked to your next class in silence too awkward to say anything. i mean, this was the same boy you bickered with every single day about grades and all of a sudden he wanted to walk you to class? how likely.
the two of you arrived at your next class at what felt like the pace of a turtle. at the door niki grabbed you by the cuff of your sleeve to the side whilst you tried to enter your class.
“hey um. listen, i have a second ticket for a movie tonight at 7 and my friend canceled on me. i overheard you wanted to watch it with friends so i’m just asking to ask. don’t think im being nice it just kinda worked out this way,” he quickly blurted out. he ran his hand throw his hair, some strands falling in front of his eyes perfectly framing his face.
“yes niki, i’ll go with you, i know how desperately you wanted to go with me,” you joked with a chuckle, putting sarcastic emphasis on ‘desperately’. you could see the shock in his eyes to your response which he quickly masked.
in honesty you found it cute seeing his expression to your response, the way his eyed fluttered open in shock, and a pink shade rose to his cheeks. wait. niki? cute? you thought to yourself.
“yeah that’s cool or whatever. i can pick you up if you need a ride,” he said.
“sure i’ll text you my address later”
you turned to make your way into class with an undeniable smile on your face.
─── ♡
later that night you heard the doorbell of your house ring and you saw niki standing beside the car door of an old beat up van. you smiled to yourself as you yelled out to your parents you were leaving.
you made your way out to the car, if you could even call it that considering how beat up it was.
“im not taking the nice car for you, you get the beat up one,” he quickly stated, rolling his eyes as you approached the car, knowing damn well it’s the only car he had. you laughed at his snappiness and opened the door for yourself.
on the drive to the theater the two of you entertained small talk, learning more about each other. you learned about his love for dancing in his free time, and how he had a dog named bisco.
at the theater, he ordered two popcorns, and shoved the second one into your arms and when you offered to pay him back he simply responded “don’t think too much into it” and shrugged. you smiled at the gesture.
after the movie ended he offered to drive you back which you gladly accepted as you wouldn’t have to bother your parents.
the ride back was mostly the same, except this time you saw him in a new light. the way he smiled contently to himself, fully focused on the road ahead. the way the wind from the open window blew softly against his hair.
when you arrived at your house, he unlocked the door. and walked you to your doorstep.
“thank you for tonight, niki. i really appreciate it.”
“yeah, yeah it’s nothing. you can tell me i’m the best now,” he said smugly, joking around. you rolled your eyes like you always would.
“genuinely though, it was really nice of you,” you reemphasized thanking him again to which he nodded.
the two of you looked up at the full moon that night, the light radiating strongly. the moon illuminating the stars surrounding it.
“it looks pretty doesn’t it,” you said in awe of the moon, it’s light captivating you.
“you look pretty too,” he said under his breath. you turned to him and he seemed shocked of what came out of his mouth too, to which he sharply inhaled
“what’d you say?” you asked just to make sure you heard him right.
“i said you look shitty,” he said with a flustered expression, as he started to jog off to his car in a panic.
you saw as he started the engine of his beat up van up and waved to him as he pulled out of your driveway.
“goodnight niki!” you shouted to which he shooed you off through the window. you giggled at the motion and made your way inside your house.
─── ♡
you were talking with karina as you made to your way to your locker. you opened the lock easily and grabbed your physics notebook to find another note.
“thats what im saying, we should totally go sometime,” you karina said behind you continuing your conversation from earlier.
“yeah for sure, why don’t you start heading to chemistry, i’ll be a bit,” you replied while unfolding the note. she sighed and made her way towards your chemistry class.
you looked down at the note while closing your locker.
turn around
you whipped around to find niki standing there. craning over you with a smug look.
“oh we’re back to this already aren’t we,” you said in an annoyed tone, maybe he hadn’t actually changed.
“oh come on, you read the note you should know someone would be behind you,” he said equally annoyed.
“wait that’s from you? wait..” you questioned. you slowly put the pieces together in your head. he stared at you with a dumbfounded look.
“yeah yeah i’m you’re secret admirer or whatever let’s get that out of the way. ____ i really like you, i’d like to go out with you again tonight,” he confessed holding a bouquet of flowers.
you looked around in the halls as if to see anyone ready to laugh if this was a joke.
“or tomorrow. or literally whenever you’re free, i’ll take the closest date,” he continued rambling.
you finally looked up at the boy, his eyes glistening with genuity and a sense of gentleness.
“tonight works.”
he smiled finally hearing you speak and handed you the flowers. you giggled at the gesture and took them, holding them close.
“cheesy,” you commented while smelling the flowers.
“don’t think too much into it,” he retorted, slinging an arm around your shoulder pulling you closer to him. you blushed at the gesture and looked up at the boy who had seemingly been admiring you for quite a while
it was weird seeing the boy you bickered with every day for years and saw as your rival now holding you by his side smiling with pride. you could get used to it though you thought as you put your head on his shoulder with a satisfied smile.
@ coqhee 2024 - all rights reserved.
#ㅤ ♩ ㅤ 𝖻𝗈𝗈𝗄𝗌 ㅤ⁺ㅤ#enhypen#enhypen fluff#enhypen fanfiction#enha x reader#enhypen fic#enhypen x reader#enhypen niki#enhypen riki#nishimura riki#niki nishimura#riki nishimura x reader#niki enhypen#enha#niki x reader#enhypen nishimura riki#ni ki#engene#niki x y/n#niki x you#nishimura niki#kpop ff#kpop fanfic#kpop enhypen#niki fanfic#niki fluff#ni ki x reader#ni ki enhypen#ni ki imagines#ni ki fluff
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heey, saw that you were open for requests so I would like to ask for a romcom jason todd x reader where the reader is flirty and has a crush on Red Hood, but has no idea that he is Jason Todd (their regular at the cafe they own) so he gets kinda flustered everytime he sees the reader when he is going to get coffee
(hope you can understand this, english is not my first language)
Beautiful Stranger — Jason Todd x GN!Reader
↷ summary — after a faithful encounter with red hood one night ago, you quickly developed a crush on the masked vigilante. but, would you believe if the cute regular at your coffee shop was him? ˎˊ˗
↷ pairing — jason todd x gn!reader ˎˊ˗
↷ genre — romance, comedy, a bunch of fluff ˎˊ˗
↷ warning/s — none! other than a few curse words, use of y/n and possible grammar errors ˎˊ˗
↷ a/n — hi anon! dw i LOVEEEE that request sm, i hope you have fun reading this as much as i had writing it ^^ i might've switched it up a bit in the process so i'm so sorry for that 😭 i also figured i'd use the wayne family adventures version of jason for this one since it kinda fits the whole theme of this fic hihi and he turned into such a simp in this so it might be ooc at some point help, enjoy reading! ˎˊ˗
"what the hell are you doing here walkin' around late at night?" the masked man said in between short breaths after taking down a robber that's been following you since you closed down the café for tonight. you were lucky enough to have 'the' red hood on patrol and save you from a potential robbery. the thought of him guiding, if not stalking, you and jumping on the thug as soon as he's about to make a move somehow made your heart skip at the act of service...if its even counted with them now laying on the ground unconscious.
what you didn't know is this man was jason, the regular you'd have come in around 9 to 10 am to have his morning coffee and sit around the shop until lunch. you always observed the guy to be somewhat mysterious but endearing at the same time, he'd always ask for the same coffee and pastry combo over and over again, not bothering to change his order. he became quite an easy customer to remember at some point, other than the fact that he had white streaked hair which made him attractive and memorable to you. in fact, everytime he came in all you had to do was ask "the usual?" and jason'll nod along then go back to his corner, mouthing a silent 'thank you' when you deliver his treat and maybe even strike up a conversation if he's in the mood.
but right now, jason is simply the infamous masked red vigilante who just kicked some ass for your own sake.
"my apartment is this way, how was i supposed to know robbers lurked around here" you replied in return, tucking in one of your hands inside the pocket of your coat as you froze in front of him. jason began approaching you and stopped when you came face to face, the height difference between the two of you forced you to tilt your head upwards— the all-white lens of his helmet staring down at you. "watch the news, its not safe out here. take the route to your right next time, and bring at least a pepper spray with you" if only his mask didn't have a built in voice changer you would've known seconds ago it's him.
you were stunned for a moment as he listed down things that'd probably go straight out your other ear. "y'know, for someone i just met you're oddly protective over me" you finally spoke, a hint of mischief underlying your tone. that's when you begun wondering who is it under that costume. is he cute? is he what you're imagining him to be like?
jason, on the other hand, blinked a couple times out of confusion if it weren't for his get up covering his entire features. "what?" he said. "nothing, it's just...i didn't think a vigilante would care so much for a civilian like me" you answered, an innocent smile creeping up your lips like an idiot in love. "its my job. obviously i should look out for the people of Gotham, shouldn't i?" he crossed his arms across his chest, covering the red insignia of his bulletproof suit.
"obviously, i guess i didn't have the special treatment like i thought" you practically said with a slight pout forming when you look up to him, going silent for a moment. "do you really tell all the people you save to bring pepper spray or just me? i wanna know if i got the special advisory from you at least" you added as a tease, earning a slight frustrated groan from jason afterwards. "i don't have time for this—" "well I do" you bravely chimed in without missing a beat. "i got all night even"
the sigh jason had let out was almost comical, he took a step backward when it's really just him starting to get flustered by his barista seemingly flirting with his other identity, who would've thought you'd find him attractive? not jason that's for sure. "get home safe, take the route i told you if you wanna keep your wallet stocked" then he noticed the small cut on your cheekbone, it must've been from the pocket knife the thug had.
he briefly pointed at it, "you got something" you lifted your fingers to search for it only to be met with a slight sting when you did, a small amount of blood staining your index finger. you hissed at the feeling, squinting your eye when it lingered for a bit. "calm down, its not that serious" jason said. "some alcohol and bandaid should do the trick" and you took his advice, you certainly wouldn't allow yourself to show up at work with a random cut to your face.
"y'know why don't you help and patch me up at this point? i could use some assistance" and you still had the nerve to decide and toy around with him for a bit...to see how far the both of you are willing to go. to be fair, you just wanted to know who was it under that mask— this could potentially lead to it if you're lucky. "what are you, 8?" jason replied. "no but i'm surely a 10" you winked playfully, the corner of your lip turning into a smirk as you watched his body language intently.
"jesus christ.." jason muttered under his breath, starting to walk away from this situation he's stuck in. "aw c'mon! that was a smooth line admit it! oh okay— well, thank you red..man! i'll see you soon...i think" you yelled from the same position you're in, seeing his tall frame go farther in the distance. jason didn't say nothing in return, but he kept a secret smile under his mask as he disappeared from sight.
its been a couple weeks since your last encounter with red hood, you took most of his suggestions that night and started going the safer route when you had to be on the closing shift. since then, you've been at the lower risk of getting robbed again thanks to him and his unforgettable presence. but it's not only you who hasn't stopped thinking about that night, jason was still trying to relive the moment of his barista basically flirting with him. he figured you would've known it's him within seconds...guess not.
it didn't bother him, it's the thought of your reaction to him being behind the helmet is what. jason wouldn't blame you though, imagine how shocking it would be to find out your regular is a vigilante at night. it's like betrayal but in a different form. he usually doesn't care about revealing his identity to the people he knows, but when it came to you it's different. he's conscious for the first time, he was overthinking things and coming up with plans how to avoid it from happening in many ways possible so he stopped visiting the shop for a while. it's becoming weird, you two weren't even close to begin with— so why was he stressing so much about it?
while jason spent most of his nights in Gotham thinking about you, you started noticing his frequent visits slowly turned little to nothing at all. you found yourself always anticipating the sound of the bell when the doors open to each customer only to be met with disappointment when he didn't come through. and today seems to be the same, you kept glancing over the glass doors hoping you'd see a tall, slightly scary and muscular man enter...until he finally did.
you feel your heart skip a beat seeing him after a while, the same feeling you got a couple nights ago but you didn't mind. you quickly went over the cashier, mentally ready to take his order with a smile. "hey! welcome back, i didn't see you in here for a while" you greeted when he stopped right at the counter. jason wore a red hoodie and a brown leather jacket layering over it, he must've liked wearing that a lot. "oh...uh yeah," he brought a hand up to rub the back of his neck, trying to come up with something. "i got caught up in work. i didn't have the time to stop buy for coffee" that's a lie. "but i'm here now" is he really?
"oh, you must've been really busy then?" you added, listening to his reason. "definitely yeah," lies once again. jason sucked in a breath, looking away to get a glimpse of the menu like he really is getting anything else other than an americano and cookies. "got anything new f'me?" he asked which took you by surprise. "you're not getting the usual anymore?" you said. "eh well, it gets old after a while" he says.
"that's fair, well we got new cake flavors if you wanna try them out. what would you like?" you then tap a few things into the register to input his order to which he asks for a latte and dark chocolate cake. you tell him his total and he pays for it, giving him his change and receipt. jason mouths a thank you and quickly goes to sit on one of the chairs by the window where you can still see him right in the corner of your eye, you catch him glancing at your direction while you made his coffee which is strange since he never did that.
jason on the other hand seems to be more fidgety, he figured he'd tell you the truth today after you get off of work but it's easier said than done as he's starting to think it was a bad idea. his frequent visits gave him the advantage to eventually learn about your schedule and today happens to be an early leave. he mentally hyped himself up, hunched over the chair with his elbows resting on both his thighs while he waited.
a few minutes passed by and you eventually finished making everything, putting the small plate and fork on a plate along with his drink as you brought it over to his table. you slightly crouched down to carefully place the plate in front of him followed by the drink and fork, jason waited til you were done and looked up to you. he notices the cut still there on the side of your cheek, seemingly in the healing process now. he cleared his throat and nudged his head toward you. "you alright? you got a slit right there" he started.
"hm? oh this. it's uh, it's nothing. i almost got mugged a few nights ago and had to hold up a pretty decent fight" you explained, clutching the tray near to your chest. "oh? well, did you win at least?" jason laid back into the chair, still looking up towards you to see if you'll mention about the 'hero' that saved you. "i guess in some way yeah, someone showed up and kicked some ass within seconds" you said, a smile slowly forming at the thought of red hood creeping your mind once again. "it's a shame i didn't get his name though, he seems like a nice guy"
"...who did you think it was?" jason started, a lump in his throat started forming the more the conversation went on. he waited for an answer, desperate to know what you think and what could be the reason why you did all that during that night. "i have no clue, but he had a red helmet and a pretty sick suit! i'm not a fan of vigilante but that dude's doing it for me. i wanted to ask him out but he looks out of it, he might've been tired so i don't blame him" a slight blush creeped into jason's cheek when he felt it heat up at what you said, he found it amusing that you were practically talking about him while having no idea at the same time.
"that's..that's great" he nodded along, clearing his throat once more as he focused on the food in front of him then back to you. "i uh, i also wanted to ask" your ears perked up at this, pursing your lips into a thin smile. "what time are you...getting off?" he finally says even if he already knew the answer. you were taken back by this, your brows raising at the sudden question. "oh uhm, probably in an hour or so. i have an early leave today so it might be even less than that" you started. "why'd you ask?"
"i..." his voice trailed off, he doesn't seem to get the words out without it sounding like he's asking you out— well, technically he is. "nothing, just curious that's all" he gave a stiff smile as he reached for his fork. "oh okay well, i'll be at the counter if you need me" you said with a smile as you walked away before one of your managers yell at you again for making unneccessary small talk.
jason waited until you went back before releasing a disappointed sigh at himself, he sets down the fork and covered his face with both of his hands— feeling embarrassed at how stupid he sounds asking the question and completely fumbling it over. 'you just had to fuck it up, did you?' he thought to himself. he's never gonna get this over with.
a few minutes passed by and you see jason finishing up his snack, the small plate of cake now left with smudges of frosting and small bits of crumbs and the cup of coffee almost emptied out. you were relieved that he liked the new menu item after months of eating the same thing, it might be the start of something new for him you think. although his question from earlier never left your mind, you tried searching for answers and it all came down to him possibly asking you out.
but why would he? he's way out of your league and he probably knows it, why would he lower his standards to a café worker when he could have anyone out there to go on dates with. was he messing with you or is he trying to give signals? it could explain why he always visited your café and not the famous ones in the city but still, you didn't wanna assume. maybe he's just trying to be friends.
you didn't even realize that jason was already standing on the other side of the counter while you were lost in your thoughts doing the dishes, you heard him call out to you which snapped you out of it. you turn to look behind and see him there with a sheepish smile. you quickly closed the faucet and wiped your hands off as you went up to him, "hey! what's up?"
"nothing, i just wanted to say i'm gonna get going. i still have a few things to catch up on back home" "oh that's fine! goodluck with whatever you're up to then" you cheered him on aa he slightly chuckled, the sound of hearing his laughter for the first time did something to you and you didn't know what it was that made it so attractive. "thanks, i'll see you around" jason finally says with a thin smile.
you waved goodbye and went back to what you're doing as you're trying to shake off the lingering feeling that you just felt, "and y/n" you heard him call out to you again. "make good use of the spray, that's a special advisory" jason said proudly, making his way out of the shop before you could even process what he said
"thank you! I'll ma— wait..." then it finally registered. "WHAT?!"
#dc comics#jason todd x reader#red hood#red hood x reader#jason todd#jason todd x gn!reader#jason todd x f!reader#jason todd x m!reader#dceu#✎ ─ nyx fics !#red hood x gn!reader#red hood x f!reader#red hood x m!reader#jason todd x y/n#jason todd x you#red hood x you#red hood x y/n
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How are you, beautiful?. How about your life?. If it doesn't bother you, can I make a request Cale Henituse x isekai reader?.. Where does the reader not want to interfere with the story even though the reader loves this story but the reader is more important and chooses a peaceful life.. However, the reader often ran into Cale and his group made the reader always run away (just helping silently) because the reader didn't sign for it...Cale started to suspect because they met often.Reader often rejected Cale's offers 😂😂..Comedy and chaos
Leave Me Alone! - LoTCF & Reader
tags: gender-neutral reader, transmigrated reader, cursing at the end
English isn’t my first language so there will be grammatical errors
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“Ugh… what time is it..? Wait am I late for my classes!?”
You jolted up and rushed to feel for your phone, only to not get a hold of it making your heart drop.
Frantic, you rummage through the bedsheets, hoping you will soon find your beloved device. However, instead of your phone, you instead notice how you don’t seem to be in your room.
As you finally look around your surroundings you can see that you’re in a completely different place. Everything around you looked extra luxurious, you were almost blinded by how shiny everything was. Aside from that, unknown tools are also neatly scattered around the room. You don’t recognise them, but they look like magical tools that one would see in a fantasy anime or manhwa.
Creek.
“Oh my! The young master is awake! I shall fetch the healer!”
Before you could think about where you were and what happened to you, a woman wearing a traditional maid uniform opened the door. She seems to be in shock to see you awake. And so, she disappeared as fast as she came.
Not even a minute later, she came back to the room you were residing in. On her tow seems to be a healer. Once they settled in, the healer immediately got to work to check your body. As they do you wonder how you would be able to play this off. It doesn’t look like you’re in your world anymore, nor does it look like you have a way to go back.
“Miss, who are you? Where am I?”
The amnesia route it is.
“Who am I?”
The maid looks like she’s about to cry and have a heart attack at the same time. You feel bad, you really do, but it’s not like you can pretend to know information when you don’t even know where you got transmigrated.
“Everything else is okay now except for their memory. The cause is most likely from the impact they sustained during the accident. We don’t know when those old memories will resurface. In fact, we can’t be sure if they ever will. My only advice is to not force them to remember anything as it could do more harm than good.”
With that, the healer excused himself to go to his next appointment leaving you with the maid.
Looking at the maid made you wonder if you’re in a historical manhwa and that you’re a child of a wealthy noble. Maybe you’re in one of those cliche tropes where you transmigrated as the villain and need to try to take down all the death flags waving.
“What are we going to do now young master? First, you lost your parents and now you lost your memories…”
The maid sobbed for a few more minutes before gathering herself and finally explaining your predicament.
Apparently, the only part you got right was the wealthy part. Your name is still [Name] [Lastname] surprisingly enough and you’re a magician’s child. Unlike other magicians who are neck-deep into their research, your parents focused more on commerce. The result of their efforts is the wealth your family has now, the [Lastname] family are as wealthy as nobles because of various magical tools they invent and sell.
“Of course, we are not as wealthy as the Henituse family or any of the duchies in the kingdom.”
Well, that’s a given since the Henituse is on a different level.
…wait Henituse? Like Cale Henituse? From the holy trinity of web novels? Lout of the Count’s Family?
And so that was how you confirmed that you have been transmigrated in your beloved manhwa/web novel as a no-name extra that isn’t even mentioned once.
The life of a wealthy, orphaned amnesiac seems to be good to you. You have everything at your disposal as there are servants at your every beck and call. Income is also a no-brainer as your body seems to remember mana and how it works. Creating and modifying magical tools and potions come to you easily.
In the midst of everything you still manage to find time to support your favourite characters from behind the scenes. You don’t have any plans on stepping into the limelight but you also can’t help but meddle a little since you hold those characters belovedly in your heart.
‘If Cale Henituse can’t stay still and live as a wealthy slacker then I shall do it for him!’
That was supposed to be the plan.
“Good day I am Ron and I am a servant of young master Cale Henituse.”
So why is this goddamn assassin interrupting your tea time at your favourite cafe!?
“Ah, the new hero of the kingdom. What could such a person need with a humble person like myself?”
You blatantly put your guard up, showing the cunning man you won’t give in to his whims.
“A prodigy such as yourself can hardly be called humble. But on that note, our young master would like to avail your services.”
…what now?
“I’m sorry Mister Ron but I do not do commissions. I work to provide for the masses, free from the constraint of an employer even if it’s a temporary one.”
You composed yourself and pushed down the urge to throw a fit right then and there. But Ron didn’t seem to notice your efforts as he slid a bag of gold coins across the table. He probably thinks you’d do the job at the right price.
“Money won't change anything. I have enough to sustain me for a lifetime. Now please excuse me as I only wish to lounge around.”
With that, you stood up and left the cafe.
The days following that weren’t easy. Everywhere you go, you seem to bump into one of Cale’s people. It has gotten to a point where you have to pause your meddling endeavours because they almost caught you a couple of times.
But since when has fate been on anyone’s side in LoTCF?
“I’m Choi Han from the Henituse family I am here on behalf of Cale-nim.”
“I’m Hans visiting on behalf of young master Cale.”
“I am the priestess Cage, I am visiting with Marquis Taylor Stan to conduct business.”
“Can you help this poor soul named Bob?”
“Hello, I’m Cale Henituse. I’m sure you’ve met the people I sent to your house.”
Cale Henituse is more persistent than you thought. He wouldn’t stop no matter how much you try to refuse his antics. It even came to a point where he had to visit you himself.
But still, even if you love his character deeply… there’s no way you would let yourself be caught up in his whims.
It’ll be the end of your peaceful life once that happens.
“Young master [Name] the prince, his Highness Alberu Crossman has ordered your presence in his castle.”
“That fu–”
“Did you say something, young master?”
“Ah no… you must’ve heard wrong.”
You plastered a smile on your face as the maid handed you the summon letter. The maid excused herself after handing you the letter to give you privacy.
Just before you could open the letter you could hear some rustling from the window. You cautiously approached it as the noise seemed to be deliberate. Once you got on the windowsill you noticed a piece of folded paper neatly tucked in.
Goodluck
“That fucking piece of shit! Favourite character my ass!”
#le asks#trash of the count's family#lout of the count’s family#tcf#lcf#cale henituse#lotcf#totcf#lcf fic#tcf fic#lcf x reader#tcf x reader#x gn reader#x gender neutral reader#x reader
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