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giuliettagaltieri · 7 months ago

Text

Pretty Little Thing

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Lovesick!Reader

Chapter Synopsis: The Simp, the Queen, and the Tension in Between

Warning: Angst, swearing, one sided pining, shallow/light writing, you and Rafe are equally stupid in your own ways.

Word Count: 2834

4 of 4

Rafe wasn’t sure if what he said to you was right.

Because he is not enjoying whatever game you are playing at the moment.

A week after the incident, you came to the country club but not for him. For the past hour, he can hear you just a few tables away, giggling with your friends. All you did when you came in was say ‘hi’ to him and Kelce, he had to bite back a comment when you gave Topper a basket full of freshly baked cookies and brownies, which you told him to share because everybody helped in searching for you.

He can recall you saying that you’ll never bake for anybody but him. Liar.

Topper reluctantly set the basket down to a chair hidden from Rafe’s eyes as it was not helping his temper at all.

When Rafe said to learn how to take care of yourself, he didn’t mean to subtract him from your life. You’re overdoing it with the whole self-help journey you’re on. Why couldn’t you just tell him about your day again instead of writing in some pink bedazzled journal you got for yourself?

What’s bothering him is that you are doing just as he told you to do, so he can’t be angry about it at all. You are just healing, or whatever shit your girlfriends call this thing you’re doing.

Your voice used to be grating on his ears, you always spoke so loudly and so close to him and if he would let you, you could go on and on. But with your absence, he feels like the silence got to him more than your voice ever could.

With you choosing to hang out with people who are not him, he feels like everything he’s doing is wrong. Like he’s putting ice in wine or putting on conditioner before shampooing his hair. He’s fucking selfish and he knows it. This is probably how you felt when he’s hanging out with Sofia, huh? Probably even worse.

Rafe glances at you briefly and he does not like how you are smiling on your phone. You look prettier, almost glowing. It’s easy to miss when you’re always by his side, clinging on his arm, but now that you took a step back, he can actually look at you. He misses having those doe eyes staring up at him, he misses having those doe eyes on him.

You’re not seriously happier when you’re not with him, are you?

“Golf?” Kelce asks just to get Rafe to stop brooding over you.

Topper agrees in a split second, nodding at Kelce, silently thanking him for initiating.

Rafe had to go with them. As much as he’d like to sit there and indirectly listen to you talk about starting a clothing line, he felt fucking pathetic.

Oh, how the tables have turned.

He kinda wished you’re just on some guy’s arms, at least he can physically do something about it. But what is he gonna do now? Punch your fucking sketchbooks and yoga mats?

You look up as they pass your table, smiling brightly.

“We’re playing golf.” Rafe spoke over you, his eyes squinting at your new screensaver. He never felt such rivalry before, especially with a feline. “Wanna come?”

Ignoring the distasteful glare of your friends, he watches you weigh the pros and cons in your head before you shake your head. “I’m still hanging out with my friends. Next time?”

Rafe tongues his cheek as he nods. He’s not yet used to hearing you turn down his invitations.

“Alright.” He glances at your phone one last time. Stupid cat. “Next time.”

But ‘next time’ isn’t really happening. You don’t come as often to the Country Club. He is getting updates on your whereabouts through your fucking Instagram. You used to update him about everything you do. His phone rings at least twice in an hour. Now, the only notification he gets is from your posts. It was pathetic and he knew it.

The time you used to waste just listening to him and his friends talk was spent on you creating clothing for yourself. He liked the smile on your face when you get to wear a new project you’ve been working on. Even if it’s on his phone screen.

Another thing he came to hate was the comment section of your posts. A good portion of your followers are men and they are not ashamed of showing their admiration for you. Rafe would crinkle his nose upon reading the strange comments, not understanding them. You ate and left no crumbs? You slay? Did you kill someone? Well, if you need help with a body, he can give you a hand.

The Country Club swimming pool wasn't exactly crowded when he and the boys decided to take a swim, just an occasional splashing and laughter from a family or two who decided to enjoy the pool, but despite the relaxing atmosphere, he can’t enjoy it one bit. You’d be lathering thick layers of sunscreen on his face by now if you were there with him.

Topper and Kelce are off getting drinks, leaving Rafe alone to lean on the recliner.

Rafe feels like shit. He feels like he’s just been demoted from the coolest job.

He bites back a groan when a tanning reflector sends a harsh ray directly on his eyes.

A hand steadies his face and Rafe’s vision turns multiple shades darker. He blinks up and sees you looking at him unimpressed.

“Y/N.” He sits up to look at you, adjusting the sunglasses you slipped on him. His eyes squinted to look at your face.

“Rafe.” You respond as you sit on the recliner beside him.

His hand ran over his mouth. Shit he had no idea you’d be coming too. He didn’t bother to shave, and he didn’t miss how your eyes linger on his stubble.

He has to divert your attention somehow. He hasn’t been taking care of himself as well as before and he didn’t want to give you more reason to lose interest. Rafe glances at the jewelry resting on your bosom. “Still wearing my name around your neck?” God, that sounded rude! His eye twitches at his own stupidity but continues to observe you from under his shades before smirking, just to take control of the situation.

You pinch the jewelry. “Does it look bad?” You gather your hair on one side and reach for the lock, cursing when you keep missing it.

“What are you…What are you doing?” He lowers the sunglasses to rest on the bridge of his nose so he can look at you better.

“I’m taking it off.”

Rafe pulls your arm down a little too harshly, startling you. “Sorry.” He laughs like the asshole he is. “Don’t take it off.”

You blow your hair out of the way as you look at the water, gently pulling your arm from his hold.

“Want me to put sunscreen on you?” Rafe reaches for your bag but you pull it away from his reach. “Come on, I can rub your back just how you like.”

He expected a giddy smile but you gave him an uncomfortable look. “No uhm…I’m okay. I’m here to meet a friend, not to tan.” And not for him.

“What friend are we talking about?” He asks casually, now reaching for his beer. Topper and Kelce sure are taking their time, good.

“A classmate in fashion school. He’s visiting.”

“A guy.” He says, stupidly.

You give him one of those looks that tell him he just said something unintelligent.

“Yes, Rafe. A guy.”

The laugh he gave has a dangerous lilt to it. His lips were smiling but his eyes were hard on you. “You’re meeting a guy while you’re dressed like that?”

It’s one of those days when he’s being completely unreasonable. You massage your brows to ward off an oncoming headache.

“I don’t like it.” He tells you, a smile still on his face.

You roll your eyes at him. “Like that changes anything.” You’re in a pool, what were you supposed to wear? Fucking pyjamas?

Rafe pulls your recliner harshly until his knee is slotted between your thighs and you shift away to keep his knee from brushing on your skin.

“I’ve been an ass to you, I know that, alright?” Rafe admits and he clutches your arm in a secure hold when you attempt to pull away. He quickly lets go when your glare shifts to his hands. “But you gotta stop like you fucking own me.”

“Ugh, me again.” You fume, brows frowning deeply. That’s exactly what you’ve been doing already and what he’s been saying earlier is fucking ironic to that statement.

“I didn’t do anything wrong.” He laughs, throwing his hands up in surrender like that would make him appear innocent.

“Yes you did! In the Country Club when that server spilled a drink all over you. You said a lot of awful things to me.” You argue.

“Come on, sweetheart. You deserved an earful after that behavior.” He looks at you condescendingly.

Your chest tightens as a building heat rises to your head, the annoyance makes your body itch and your fingers curl to a fist. You can’t believe he’s still saying that after everything. “Are you really taking her side?” You hiccup as your eyes begin to water, you quickly bite down any sob that threatens to spill out.

Rafe had to do a double take to realize he has made you cry.

“I’m not, I’m not!” He glances around him to find something to help you with. He reaches for the shirt he took off before lounging and dabs your cheeks with it. “I fucking hate it when you cry.”

This only made you cry harder, pushing his hand away but taking his shirt to bury your face into.

“Shit…uhm. Alright, I’m sorry I was being mean.” He taps your shoulder. “Stop crying, goddammit.”

You lean your forehead on his chest and he stiffly wraps his arms around you.

“Is it because she’s so much prettier?” Your sobs are muffled. “She will never love you like I do.” You cling on Rafe, making him press his lips in a thin line. “Why do you like her but hate me so much, Rafe?” You look at him with your lips bloated from when you were trying to hold back your tears.

“Sweetheart, I don’t hate you.” Rafe chuckles as he places a hand on your back to rub it. “You just need to respect my boundaries sometimes.”

You calm down as you listen to him talk and he runs over his thumb over your clumped up lashes.

“So pretty.” He whispers and he pinches your cheek. “You need to understand that there are things that I have to enjoy on my own.”

“You don’t like it when I k-keep you company?” You frown at him and he chuckles while tucking your hair behind your ear.

“I do. I enjoy your company more than anyone else’s. But you can’t lash out like the way you did in the Country Club.”

You huff. “She was touching you.”

Rafe frowns. “Once. You touch me like that all the time.” He brings your hands to rest on his pecs for emphasis but you easily slip your hands from his.

“You like her.” You say barely above a whisper, eyes downcast. “I saw you at the party.”

“She’s pretty.” He bites back a laugh when your cheeks bubble in annoyance. “And I was stupid.” He says with a smile and you nod your head in approval.

“You were flirting.” You point out as you play with the drawstring of his short just to keep your hands busy.

“We were.” Rafe says. “And I regret it everyday. You got hit on because I was entertaining her. You got in trouble because of me.”

“And you hurt my feelings.” You add.

“And I hurt your feelings.” Rafe echoes.

You let go of the drawstring to sit up straighter. “Why did you do it?”

Rafe shakes his head. “I don’t know.” He raises a hand to stop a retort from you. “I wish I could tell you why but I really don’t know and I’m sorry. It was just something new, a change of pace and I kinda went with it.”

He presses his lips together as he watches your eyes blank out. Shoulders slumping as you get farther and farther away. He gently reaches for you, hooking his hands under your knees to pull you in and you don’t have it in you to resist.

“She’s also not as annoying as you. Not as clingy. Not as loud.” Rafe pulls you closer every time he adds something to the list, your lips are wobbling now. “But in the end it was for those reasons why I realized I couldn’t be with her.”

You look at him from under your lashes and he smiles at you, it wasn’t condescending nor did it hold malice, it was just a smile and the gaze he held with you so intimate.

“I was missing you like crazy.” He whispers like a boy telling his mother about a secret crush. “I thought I was going crazy when I started hearing your voice or my phone ringing.”

Gently, you return his smile. “You missed me?” It was all you heard.

He clicks his tongue playfully. “I just said I did.”

“So we can go back to being best friends again?”

Rafe winces and you tilt your head to the side.

“What?” You ask.

“I was hoping for something more but I’ll take it, I guess.”

You chuckle at his antics, a brow raising. “Did you want to be my boyfriend?”

He rolls his eyes. “You think I’d be having this conversation with you if I didn’t?”

“The audacity.” You gasp teasingly. “After everything you’ve done to me?”

Rafe groans and buries his nose on your hair. “I already apologized.” It’s kinda hot when you call him out on his bullshit.

You rub your chin. “I don’t know, maybe you think I’m just another pretty girl.”

“Well, you are a pretty girl.” Rafe scoops you up so you’re seated on his lap and you rest your arms on his shoulders.

“Are you just tricking me so you can get in my pants?” You nuzzle your nose with his and he rests his hands on the globes of your ass.

“You’re not wearing pants.” He grins, making you groan in defeat.

“You know what I mean.” You whine as you run your fingers on his nape, pulling at the short strands of his hair.

Rafe nods, eyes nearly rolling back at the sensation of your delicate fingers. “Baby, I don’t need tricks to get in your pants. You like me way too much.” This earns him a slap on his chest.

Shyly, you just look at him and he raises a perfect brow in question, his lips quirking up boyishly.

“You really like me?” You mumble.

He chuckles and pecks your lips. “Go a little beyond that.”

“Beyond?” You ask dumbly and breathlessly.

“I think I love you, baby.” He grins and you smile brightly after hearing him confirm it. To his dismay, you get off his lap and you stretch, leaving him confused…and a bit frustrated.

“Ugh, finally. I was starting to think we’ll be having a no comfort angst instead of a slowburn multi-chaptered fic.”

“Slowburn fic…what?” He’s completely lost.

You shake your head, bending down to plant a chaste kiss on his lips. “I love you too, Rafe.”

He cannot fathom just how you manage to baffle him every time. So predictable yet erratic. It’s keeping him on his toes.

“And you can’t be my boyfriend just yet.”

“What!”

You giggle at him from your shoulders. “Come on, you gotta do better than just confess, romance me a little, okay?”

He can’t fucking believe this.

But Rafe Cameron accepts the challenge.

“Oh, my classmate’s here.” You say excitedly when you open your phone.

“Wear my shirt. I can’t have you meeting other men dressed up like that.” He eyes your swimsuit in distaste.

“I designed this, asshole.”

“Oh, no wonder it looks really nice on you.”

You look at him blankly and he smiles like a puppy waiting for a treat. “I’m not wearing your shirt.”

“You’re not wearing it?” He asks.

“No.”

“Fine.” He nods while sipping his beer again. “I’ll just break his nose when he looks at you for too long.”

“OH MY GOD, RAFE!”

He smiles as he watches you stomp around in anger. You’re muttering about how insufferable he is, how unreasonable, but he can’t get mad at your insults, not when amusement and affection bubbles on his chest, making him feel like a schoolboy.

“You know you’re my girl, right?”

You immediately stop pacing, anger melting off of you, lips turning to a pout as your eyes get glassy.

“Oh my God, Rafe.”

Lovesick Little Thing

#rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron #outerbanks rafe #rafe angst #outer banks #rafe outer banks #rafe x reader #rafe obx #rafe imagine #drew starkey x y/n #drew starkey x you #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey #lovesick!reader #lovesick little thing

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beesspacedotorg · 9 months ago

Note

bee what about calling chan daddy for the first time??

hihi. uhm. putting warnings is too hard. i hope u enjoy ems <3

warnings: oral (m rec), daddy king (duh), uh. tbh there probably should've been more discussion about what's going on here before it happened but there wasn't gender neutral reader as usual

You’ve been fussing at him all day. To be honest, you’re not even sure why, you’ve just been having a bad time and Chan managed to be in the right place at the wrong time and now he’s contracted your ire. It’s unfair to him, and a part of you knows this, but a larger part of you is pissed off that he’s breathing so fucking loud, so you’ll just apologize later.

“Baby, are you planning on doing the dishes today or-”

“God, can you shut up?!” There’s a moment where you both stare at each other in shock. You don’t yell at each other. Chan raised his voice at you once before and you cried so hard you almost threw up, and after that you both agreed the two of you wouldn’t let it get to that point ever again. You don’t yell at each other, and yet, your voice has raised to dangerous decibels because your boyfriend asked you about the dishes.

“Okay, what is your problem?”

“Problem? I don’t have a problem.” That is not what was supposed to come out of your mouth. You know it, and Chan especially knows it, because he raises an eyebrow at you from where he’s leaning against the kitchen counter.

“Are you sure? Because you just yelled at me.”

“I didn’t yell.”

“Then what do you call that? Speaking with purpose?”

“Yes. Speaking with purpose. You’re also doing the exact opposite of what I told you to do anyway.” Chan brings his hands to his head to rub his temples, and for a second you think you’ve gone a step too far. You’re ready to apologize to him, to inform him that somewhere between the dishes and now your anger has been replaced with a weird eagerness for him and that maybe you should’ve apologized for yelling at him before starting to play a horny game, but he takes a step towards you before you can open your mouth.

“You have two seconds to apologize to me.” Chan’s voice is tense, a voice you’ve heard people describe as his “leader voice.” You would describe it as something else, but you’re not that brave, so you haven’t yet.

You stare at him instead of apologizing, blinking once and then twice at him. You watch as he clenches his jaw and see the tick of his muscle in real time.

“Okay. Fine.” Oh, you’re fucked. Literally. He grabs your arm and bodily hauls you off the couch. You knew what he was going to do, and you go along with it, so luckily he doesn’t chuck you across the living room.

“Chan.” He keeps dragging you towards your bedroom. “Chan.” You’re pretty sure he’s not listening on purpose. “Christopher.”

“God,” he starts, and you know how his sentence is going to finish before it’s fully out of his mouth, “can you just shut up?” Hearing your own words parroted back at you makes you frown.

“Don’t talk to me like that.”

“Why not? That’s how you were talking to me earlier.” You roll your eyes at him and open your mouth to respond and then he’s kissing you well enough that you don’t care anymore.

“Baby, I wasn’t kidding. That mouth has gotten you in enough trouble, why don’t you just keep it shut, hmm?” You frown at him again, brows furrowing and he pushes you onto your knees and sits on the bed. You stare up at him from your spot on the floor, lips still downturned and then he’s fishing his cock out of his shorts and yanking you towards him by your hair.

“Hey! Let go!” You reach up and dig your nails into his wrist and he grunts at you.

“What is your problem today?”

“I don’t have a problem.”

“Sure.” He brings your face closer to his dick. “Suck.” You shut your mouth with a click of your teeth and when you look up at him you can see that he’s thrown his head back in exasperation.

“Jesus, why are you being like this?” You cross your arms over your chest and you hear him sigh. His hand untangles itself from your hair to press at the hinge of your jaw, forcing it open until he can slip fingers inside your mouth and open you up for himself.

“Ow-” Your muffled protest is cut off by the heft and weight of Chan’s cock being shoved into your mouth. You aren’t insane enough to bite him, but you are insane enough to not move. You’re unsure why, but there’s something in you that wants to push him and see what he’ll do, see just how far you can annoy your sweet, lovely Channie until he becomes something else entirely.

“You’re doing this on purpose.” You can’t help the way your lip twitches into a smirk from where it’s wrapped around the girth of Chan’s dick, can’t help the way it takes you a second to school your expression into something bored and uninterested. Chan sees it though, because of course he does. Sees the way your eyes widened for a second when you got caught before flattening out. You hear him huff a laugh, finally catching on, before he’s dragging one of your hands to rest on his thigh and taking your head between his palms.

“Fine.”

He starts a rough pace right off the bat. Doesn’t give you any time to adjust before his cockhead is ramming cruelly against the back of your throat. You gag, drool bubbling past your lips, down your chin, dripping onto the floor. Your hand lifts off his thigh for a moment, taken aback, and his pace slows. He pulls halfway out of your mouth and then you put your hand back on his leg like nothing happened and he’s back to using his cock as a battering ram to your throat.

“Kept mouthing off,” he grunts, slightly out of breath. “You and I both know that this is all your little mouth is good for.”

He keeps on like that until you’re crying, until tears are slipping down your cheeks and your nose is running a little. Uses you as nothing more than a fleshlight until your eyes are red rimmed and your knees are sore. He pulls out and tilts your head back to look into your eyes. Your head is swimming from the lack of oxygen and your vision is blurry from tears and something else. He looks at your face and down at the floor and his cock twitches.

“Made a mess,” he scoffs, derisive. “Are you done?” You whine at him, you have no idea what he’s asking anymore. He shakes your head a little.

“Brat. I asked you a question.”

“Channie- daddy.” Your voice is hoarse and wobbly, your hands are grabbing at his thighs and you're leaning your weight into him. You hear him inhale sharply and suddenly the hands on your head shift from a grab to a cradle.

“Oh, baby.” He hauls you up into his lap. “Look at me.” You do, whatever Chan finds in your face makes him soft.

“Was that all you needed, sweetheart? Was for daddy to set you straight.” You nod at him and he coos.

“Daddy’s not done yet, baby.” You whine. He laughs. “You gave me a hard time there, honey. A bit of face fucking isn’t gonna make that up to me, you know that.”

You do know that. It isn’t gonna stop your pout though. Chan sees your face and laughs.

“Lay on your back,” he says. “Maybe if you apologize well enough, I’ll give you a reward after.”

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fear-is-truth · 4 days ago

Note

Hi! I really enjoy reading you writing, thank you for taking the time to write so much🩵 I was wondering if you could write namgyu fiancé/wife headcannons(I got inspired to ask after reading your Patrick Bateman hc’s lol.) Anyways sorry if this was worded weird in any way it’s my first time sending a request😭 love you writing🩵!

I NEED A GANGSTA TO LOVE ME BETTER THAN ALL THE OTHERS DO . . . husband! + fiancé! NAMGYU

warnings — toxic behaviour but we still love him jackie’s note — thx for the req ! i did my best trying to keep him in character

makes sure to charm your parents, but it’s not over-the-top. he’s not the type to be overly polite or sickeningly sweet—that would seem fake. instead, he plays it smart. respectful, well-mannered, but with that natural confidence that makes people believe in him. calls your father abeonim (아버님) and your mother eomeonim (어머님), bowing properly when he greets them.

tl;dr — maybe because his actor (roh jae-won) wears glasses irl, i imagine nam-gyu wearing glasses to look “well-read” and “sophisticated”. also he’ll cover up his tattoos with long sleeves.

if your parents are traditional, he knows exactly how to navigate that. he’s sharp—he understands the nuances of korean etiquette and leans into them when necessary. he makes sure to pour drinks properly, holds his glass with both hands when your father pours for him, eats with careful manners. if your parents are strict, he presents himself as someone stable, capable, a good match. if they’re more laid-back, he relaxes slightly, adjusting his tone to match the atmosphere.

subtly reminds you that he’s on his best behavior for you. if you tease him about how polite he’s being, he just smiles, leaning in to murmur, what, you think i’d go through all this trouble if i didn’t love you? a little smirk, a slight squeeze of your thigh under the table. a reminder that you are the reason he’s being a good boy—because normally, he wouldn’t even bother.

if your mother fusses over him, he plays along. when she offers him more food, he doesn’t refuse, thanking her with a polite smile. if she comments on how skinny he is, how he should eat more, he chuckles, glancing at you. your daughter already takes good care of me, eomeonim.

if your father is hard to impress, he takes it as a challenge. he’s patient, methodical—never too eager. he doesn’t try to prove himself all at once. instead, he subtly weaves his way into your father’s good graces. agreeing at the right moments, asking the right questions, offering carefully-worded insights that make him seem thoughtful, intelligent. and if he finally earns even a hint of approval? he glances at you, his smirk barely concealed. told you i’d win him over.

carefully watches how your parents treat you. if they’re critical, make offhand comments about you, if they push certain expectations—he picks up on it fast. and later, he uses it. you always do what they want, don’t you? a soft, almost mocking chuckle, his fingers tracing lazy circles on your wrist. no wonder you’re always so easy to push around.

he’s prepared for any potential criticism. if your parents are skeptical of him, nam-gyu doesn’t get defensive. instead, he meets them with calm responses—turning doubts into opportunities to prove himself. i understand why you’d be concerned, abeonim. i’d feel the same if i were in your position. but i love your daughter. i wouldn’t be here otherwise.

if your family likes him too much, he gets really smug about it.

if your parents don’t approve of him, he doesn’t panic—he improvises/adapts/overcomes. he knows that pushing too hard will backfire, so he plays the long game. lets them see the good parts of him, lets them warm up to him over time. and in the meantime? he makes sure you’re still firmly in his grasp. it doesn’t matter what they think, he tells you. as long as you want me, that’s all that matters.

he’s the kind of fiancé who treats the engagement ring like a collar. it’s not just a symbol—it’s proof that you’re his. he likes seeing it on your finger, will get noticeably irritated if you take it off, even for something as innocent as washing dishes.

nam-gyu loves calling you his fiancée / wife. he says it all the time, almost tauntingly, because he knows it flusters you. where’s my wife? when he walks into a room. c’mere, dear fiancée when he wants something. it’s possessive in a way that makes it clear—you’re his. and when he really wants to make a point? my wife wouldn’t do that to me, right? an almost-smirk, a tilt of his head, watching you.

marrying him doesn’t make him any easier to deal with. if anything, it makes him worse, because now you’re his in a legal sense. you signed the papers, you made the vows—he sees it as something unbreakable and permanent. and the idea of you leaving? no. that’s not happening

has a hard time differentiating between love and control. nam-gyu doesn’t always realise when he’s being unreasonable, because to him, at least, getting engaged isn’t about keeping you under his thumb—it’s about making sure you don’t leave. you agreed to this. you’re his now. and that means something.

gets unreasonably affectionate when he knows you’re mad at him. you try to ignore him, but he keeps pressing into your space—an arm looping around your waist, his face buried in your neck, lips brushing your skin as he mumbles, you’re really gonna stay mad at your husband? it’s unfair how easily he wears you down.

thrives on the ‘newlywed’ effect. the first few months after your wedding, he plays into it hard. always using it as an excuse. i have to get home—i’m a married man now. or can you blame me? i just got married, of course i want to spend all my time with my wife. but even after the honeymoon phase passes, he still pulls that card when it suits him. especially when you try to push back against something he wants. so much for that ‘for better or worse’ vow, huh?

manipulates arguments into ‘tests of loyalty.’ you bring up a real issue? suddenly, it’s why are you turning against me? you’re upset with something he did? so much for ‘in sickness and in health.’ he doesn’t really believe in marriage vows, but he sure as hell knows how to use them.

finds ways to make sure you need him. maybe it’s handling the finances, maybe it’s subtly discouraging you from relying on anyone else. but little by little, he makes sure you don’t feel comfortable making decisions without him. why are you asking them? your husband’s right here. always with that slight edge to his voice, like it bothers him that you’d go to someone else first.

he likes things done his way but knows when to pick his battles. he lets you win the small ones—the paint colour of the walls, what takeout place you order from—but when it comes to bigger things, things that matter, he has a way of steering things back in his favour.

gets into the habit of taking things that belong to you. nothing major, just little things. a hair tie, a chapstick etc.

gets unreasonably possessive in public. his arm around your shoulders, his hand on your thigh, fingers laced with yours even when it’s inconvenient. he doesn’t like when people look at you too long, and if he catches someone staring, he won’t hesitate to make it known that you’re taken. a glare, a hand tightening around your waist. and later, when you’re alone? do you like it? when people look at you like that? a smirk, a tilt of his head, his fingers trailing up your spine. do you like making me jealous?

doesn’t really want kids, but if you do, he’ll act like he’s doing you a favour. if it’ll make you happy, fine. but he never fully steps into the role of a father. he sees them as extensions of you, not his. he’ll help when he feels like it, but the responsibility? that’s on your. and if they ever come before him? he makes sure you know it.

nam-gyu never lets you forget that you chose him. you said yes, remember? whenever you question things, whenever you feel trapped, he always reminds you—you agreed to this. you wanted this. and sometimes, when he’s kissing down your neck, when he’s got you needy and pliant under him, his voice drops to a soft murmur—no one else will love you like i do, baby. and the terrifying part is, you know he’s right.

#nam gyu #namgyu x reader #namgyu x y/n #squid game #squid game headcanons #squid game season 2 #squid game s2 #nam gyu x reader #player 124 #player 124 x reader #namgyu fluff #namgyu headcanons #squid game x reader

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gudfornuthin · 11 days ago

Text

The only thing that matters

Dae ho x fem!reader

Summary: Dae ho joins the game in hopes of building a better life for the two of you. Turns out, you both had the same idea.

A/N: based on this request and this one. Hope you all enjoy and feedback is appreciated :)

Dae ho is startled awake by blaring music from above him. His body aches and there’s a pounding in his head as he tries to gage his surroundings.

Rows and rows of high rise bunk beds fill the massive room, along with hundreds of strangers. All wearing the same outfit, all looking around with the same confused expressions. A group of masked people stand at the end of the room, wearing pink jumpsuits and holding guns. What the hell has he got himself into?

Dae ho moves to sit on the end of the bed, preparing to face whatever is about to happen. Before he gets up, a sudden panic takes over him, as he quickly searches his pockets. He feels something cold and heaves a sigh of relief. Dae ho pulls the object out, a small locket in the shape of a heart. The chain broke ages ago meaning he hasn’t been able to wear it. That doesn’t stop him from carrying it everywhere he goes. He’s also surprised that he’s still got it, considering his change of clothes. For some reason they didn’t take it away from him, and he couldn’t be more thankful.

He opens the locket, staring at the picture inside. A young woman, smiling wide with her head tilted slightly to the side looks back at him. His long term girlfriend, Y/N. The love of his life. The reason he’s here in the first place.

The couple had been struggling financially and your options were limited. After Dae ho left the marines and Y/N was laid off from her office job, it became harder to keep things a float. It didn’t take long for them to form a growing debt, which also didn’t help their relationship. After meeting the salesman in the subway, Dae ho was ready to take the risk. He didn’t bother telling Y/N about what he was doing, and he feels bad because of it. He hopes she’ll understand.

Dae ho kisses the picture of his girlfriend and moves to where the crowd of bewildered strangers have gathered. The pink suits begin to explain everything, as well as the games they’re all about to participate in.

- - -

The players are all lead to the first area where they enter another large room with a large strip of flat land, and an incredibly creepy doll standing tall opposite them. The rules are explained, and the game begins.

One player in particular seems to take on the leading roll, sharing tips and helping everyone slowly make their way to the finish line. Dae ho doesn’t know how and why this man seems so confident and focused on making sure he’s being heard, as the game itself is fairly easy.

That is until the first bullet hits. Unsurprisingly, chaos erupts throughout the room, players shoving each other and running in multiple directions, desperate for a way to get out. The man, which Dae ho sees now is player 456, yells behind his arm for everyone to hold still, and yet many don’t listen.

Dae ho can feel the sweat forming on his forehead, holding his breath and trying to stop his body from shaking too much. He wishes he’d never agreed to that salesman’s game. He wishes he’d just stayed at home, safe with the one person he cares about. Instead there’s a high chance he’s going to be killed.

The screaming soon stops, as the doll calls out green light. No one moves, horrified of the outcome. Dae ho flicks his eyes around the room, trying to figure out what everyone else is going to do. That’s when he spots her.

“What the hell?”

He’s about to move closer when the doll calls out red light. While the players remain static, player 456 yells out, once again taking the lead and explaining what they need to do. Form a line, and get behind someone bigger than you.

“Green light.”

While most people form different lines, Dae ho bolts over to where he was just looking, quickly moving to stand in front of the woman he can’t possibly believe is here with him. She’s shocked to see him too.

“Dae ho?”

Following player 456s instructions, Dae ho moves his arm to cover his mouth, just as the doll calls out red light.

“What the hell are you doing here?” He mumbles.

“I could ask you the same thing,” Y/N replies, her head hanging low, ducking behind her boyfriend.

Rather than starting a fight while their lives are at stake, Dae ho chooses not to reply. Green light is called, and he reaches back for her hand, tugging hard and pulling her along with him to the finish line. He’s pissed off, she probably is too, but there’s no way he’s letting them kill her. Finish the game, then talk.

- - -

The game was a bloodbath to say the least. Somehow wanting to pay off a debt turned into fighting for your life. Literally. Dae ho just can’t bear to think about the upcoming challenges. Either way, he’s thankful to still be alive. Alongside his girlfriend no less.

Dae ho and Y/N sit next to each other on one of the beds, having not spoken a word to each other since finishing the game. They’re both tired, and wondering who’s going to be open and honest first. Y/N breaks the silence.

“I didn’t know how to tell you.”

Dae ho glances at her. “Well, I didn’t either.”

Y/N huffs. “I got a loan from the bank a few months ago, just to help out with our bills. Then I lost my job and borrowed more money and it just,” she sighs. “It got ahead of me. I’m sorry.”

Dae ho takes her hand into his, squeezing tightly. “We both got desperate. There’s nothing to be sorry about.”

They go quiet again, Y/N resting her head on his shoulder. He kisses her on the forehead, then on the cheek, then gently on the lips. She smiles.

“We’re here now,” Dae ho says. “And we’ve got each other. We can do this.”

There’s a moment of hesitation, but Y/N nods at his words, snuggling deeper into her boyfriend’s embrace. They try not to think about all the players killed, and whatever waits for them tomorrow.

- - -

Taglist: @h3ll0k1ttyx @ivanttier @shewanfsrevenge @sugalump3d @putrescentpoet @leviathans-fish

(Sorry if some tags don’t work)

#dae ho x reader #squid game x reader #dae ho #squid game #kang ha neul #x reader

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writingsonsaturn · 2 months ago

Text

all of the girls you've loved before

{ masterlist } { the 'taylor swift' series }

🪐: the ending is a little rushed, and this is so not proofread but NEW SERIESSS, love you enjoy

wc - 2.7k

content warning: fem!reader, cheating (not from tim), fluff, talk of blood (reader is a blood analyst)

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

You and Tim have known each other since you moved into the neighborhood when you were twelve, you had moved right across the street. He saw you one day outside helping your mother bring in boxes from a moving truck, he noticed the way your hands shook with the heaviness of the box but instead of dropping it, you fought through and continued carrying it inside. When you had walked back outside you ended up noticing him too, the way his hair lightened in the sunlight, his thin body shaking with nerves as the pretty girl he was staring at for far too long walked up to him and asked him a question.

“Do you know how to fix a pipe?” your voice flowed through his ears like honey soothing a sore throat, “oh um, no i don’t but i could ask my dad” he responded with a shake in his tone, although he hated interacting with his father he would at least try his best and ask for you. “Thanks!” you smiled and then asked him if he wanted to hang out sometime, explaining you just moved here from a couple states away and needed a friend, “yeah, that would be really cool” he agreed quickly, very quickly.

In no time the two of you became inseparable, spending endless days together with no regard for anyone else who wasn’t inside the little bubble the two of you had made.

During the high school years, the crush you developed for Tim only grew stronger and stronger, during the classes you two had together he would always insist on sitting next to you and nearly every time he would never take no for an answer. The teachers found it easier to just succumb to his demands then argue with him over it, he would say a very polite ‘thank you’ and trot his way over to the desk or seat right next to you. You would always roll your eyes and say “it wouldn’t kill you to not sit next to me you know, it only makes their lives harder” and he would snap back with a “i work better next to you” and with that you would smile and turn your head back to the teacher with a warm feeling in your face.

Although one day, Tim came to you in a panic freaking out about not knowing what to wear.

“Wear to what?” you questioned, confused why Tim of all people was freaking out about what to wear.

“Cindy agreed to go on a date, now hurry up, which shirt looks better” he rushed, holding both

shirts out in front of him with an impatient look.

You chose the shirt on the left, it was black with a blue vertical stripe on it. Biting back the sheer shock and hurt you felt in your chest and mustered up enough faux happiness, “now get out of here, and go get the girl” you said with a tight-lipped smile.

From there on out you tried your best to shove the feelings for Tim deep, deep, deep down into the deepest pit you possibly had in your body. You eventually also found yourself a boyfriend, you loved him deeply, and enjoyed his company. Cindy, Tim, you, and drake had double dates every week or so. Drake and Tim would talk about football while you and Cindy would groan about the upcoming physics test and how the homework was just absolutely destroying your social life.

Cindy and Tim broke up after junior year, they both wanted different things and felt neither of them wanted to take a chance at a long distance relationship. Tim would be heading into the military after graduation and Cindy was going to study abroad in Germany for a journalism degree. However, you and Drake were going decently strong, he had football scouts watching him at a couple of games and you were getting a full ride scholarship to an ivy league college.

That was until Drake cheated, the cliche of a football boyfriend cheating on his not so popular girlfriend had prophesied. You were completely and utterly distraught to say the least, Tim came over after you hadn't shown up at school that day and wouldn't pick up any of his calls. Your mom answered the door with a saddened look, “Hey sweetheart” you mom whispered “she’s not doing too well.”

Tim internally freaked out, considering any and all possibilities, the worst one being that you’re dying, obviously. Your mom must have seen the way his heart practically fell out of his jeans because she quickly explained what happened, “oh my, she didn't tell you?’ with a scoff she continued “Drake cheated on her, he was, i assume at a house party, and someone snapped a photo of him kissing another girl” her tone was sad, with a hint of anger, that someone had the audacity to hurt her little girl.

Tim nodded and stepped inside, taking off his shoes and walking upstairs to your bedroom. He pressed his ear against the door trying to get a sense of what he might be walking into, but heard nothing so with a light knock he entered your bedroom, he wasn’t sure what he was expecting to walk into but you sitting on the ground with a small blanket covering you and your knees tucked into your chest wasn't it.

“Oh, Y/n” he sighed and sat right beside you on the ground, you sniffled in acknowledgement and looked at Tim with red, wet eyes.

“How can someone just do that?” you croaked.

“I don’t know, honey” Tim replied, wishing on every star that he could take your pain away and punch it into Drake’s skull.

You leaned into Tim’s chest, silently sobbing and asking questions you knew Tim wouldn’t be able to answer. Every time he would just hold you tighter and tighter, almost morphing your body into his until you cried yourself to sleep.

He stayed there for a generous amount of time before carrying you to your bed and tucking you in, and wishing you sweet dreams before leaving and going back into his own bed.

After a couple weeks of consoling you and getting you back into your groove he went and talked to Drake, confronting him in the school parking lot after football practice. He wanted nothing more than to beat his face in with a baseball bat but he figured you wouldn’t be very happy bailing him out of jail, so he opted for a stern scolding instead.

“What’s up, Drake?” Tim huffed out, walking over to Drake's car. “Oh, hey Tim” Drake said with a tone way to cheery for this situation, “Listen, what happened at the party was nothing but a drunken mistake, and besides, Y/n wasn’t giving anything up anyways” he explained “you know how us men are, we need intimacy” Drake ended with a small smile, assuming Tim would understand and bro hug him.

Tim however only became more heated, looking at Drake with red in his eyes, “so what you’re saying is, Y/n was just someone for you to get your rocks off with, and she wouldn’t give it to you so you decided to cheat on her?” Tim tried to put together Drake’s motives but couldn’t for the life of him understand the shallowness of that concept.

“Exactly, bro” Drake sighed in relief, thinking he got through to Tim, “you’re a real piece of shit, you know that Drake?” Tim growled. “Y/n did nothing but care and love you, and you drop the moment she doesn’t fuck you?” Drake’s face dropped, quickly realizing the predicament he was in.

Tim walked up to him, nose inches away from Drake’s, “If I ever see you even breathe near her ever again, you will be on the floor faster than you can even registar what is happening, do you understand me?” Tim ended his sentence with a push and walked back to his car feeling somewhat better.

Tim sat in the driver's seat for a while, contemplating what to do next. He decided it would be nice to take you out to your favorite restaurant and go over college majors with you as you had been needing help figuring out what you should do for the field you were wanting to step into.

As senior year came to an end Tim and you parted ways but always kept in touch, it was hard sometimes but the two of you did your best.

He would send you letters asking how college was, and you would send letters back asking if he was still a little twig or if he had finally built up muscle. Worry was always something you carried everytime a letter would be late or you wouldn’t hear from him for a while, but thankfully all was always okay.

When he got out he decided his next course of action would be to go into the police force, telling you it was the closest thing to the military a civilian could get and you supported him through the training academy. You had gotten your degree in forensics and now work in the lab as a blood spatter analyst, and he was a rookie.

You and Tim were absolutely stoked to be able to work in the same precinct, even opting for carpooling every now and then when you were too tired to drive. You also figured out way before Tim did how big of a crush Isabel had on him, she smiled so wide when he walked in and would constantly talk to him and invite him to get drinks after work.

“You know she likes you right?” you teased, looking at Tim with a smirk as you ran tests in the lab. “Who? Isabel?” he asked obliviously, not quite catching onto what you caught onto months ago, “God Tim, yes!” you whisper-yelled “she makes googily eyes at you every time she’s looking at you.”

“You really think she likes me?”

“Oh my god, you are such a dude, of course she likes you!”

“Should I ask her on a date?”

“Yes Tim. Ask the poor girl on a date, she’s been waiting”

After you lit a fire under his ass, he quickly asked Isabel on a date and their relationship flourished from there. You on the other hand only had a couple of boyfriends off and on, none of them could make you very happy, and you would feel bad for leading them on. Never knowing why you weren't ever satisfied by good men.

One day Tim came up to you in the lab, very secretly and locked the door while looking at you. “Hey, i need womanly advice” Tim said, almost scared even the wind would pick up on his voice.

“Alright, hit me” you smiled finishing up your email, “which ring do you think Isabel would like best?” your eyes flashed to the screen Tim was pulling up. The images showed two sets of princess cut diamond rings, one wearing a silver band while the other wore a gold band. Tim was smiling ear to ear waiting for you to react, you studied the rings hard before deciding Isabel would most likely prefer the silver band over the gold band.

“Thank you, Y/n” Tim looked at you before hugging you tightly, “I mean it, thank you” he finished by giving you a last squeeze before leaving. Your heart felt oddly heavy, holding emotion you weren't quite able to explain away, the world was dimmer.

Tim’s wedding came and went, you attended and gave a very long, tearful speech. Telling Tim how proud of him you were and how glad you were that he had found Isabel. It still stung, although you weren't entirely sure why, Tim’s heart has never been yours to hold and keep safe.

Then, Isabel started to delve into drugs, Tim would come to your house nearly in tears every other night thinking Isabel was cheating on him. You would comfort him, trying to reassure him that she wasn’t cheating on him and her job was just hard. She just needed extra support, you thought.

Your heart ached for Tim when the two of you found out Isable was using, you also hurt for Isabel, occupational hazard completely turned her life upside down. You did your best to be there for Tim and stayed up to date with any possible sightings of Isabel, but you never caught wind of her whereabouts.

Fortunately, one day when Tim was riding with his new rookie, Lucy Chen, he ran into Isabel, who was inside a convenience store. He came by your lab after it had happened.

“She looked bad, Y/n” Tim’s voice cracked, looking more sorrowful than he’s ever looked before.

“I'm so sorry, Tim, that’s so awful” you hugged his slumped frame, giving him a reassuring squeeze. “We’ll find her again, I know it” you pulled away smiling at him lightly.

He gave you a forced smile, telling you he would take you to lunch after your labs came back, you wished you could give him more but there was really nothing else you could do for him.

After a couple of months and a really sloppy secret op, Isabel was finally able to get the help she needed and was willing to go into rehab. Tim was ecstatic to see her looking so much like her old self again, and he understood when she said she no longer wanted to be with him, that she felt she couldn’t move on with him still in her life.

Tim was just happy to see someone he loved for so long doing so good.

He lived the single life for a while, getting back on his feet and his mental health back into a good position.

Rachel was a short fling, but you were sure Tim loved her.

You strongly disliked Ashley but that's neither here nor there.

Then he finally opened his eyes and saw you.

You were who he’s been waiting for his whole life, the one who saw him at his most vulnerable, while also seeing him at his most fulfilled. It took him too long to notice but he finally did, every long night chat that he always came to you for, all the times he needed to cry on someone's shoulder he would go to you. He was finally going to tell you that, and he hoped to the highest of powers you would feel the same.

After his shift he walked over to your lab, knowing you, you would be working later than you should be. He let out a nervous breath, and opened your lab door.

“Y/n? You in here?” Tim’s voice echoed off the plain walls.

“Over here!” you called from the back of the room.

Heavy footsteps made their way towards your voice, they were fast paced, almost nervous. “Hey!” you exclaimed with a big smile stretching from ear to ear, you were sitting on the floor with files spread out around you, looking like your office had been paper bombed.

“Hi, Y/n” there was a quiver to Tim’s voice, one that made your stomach drop, you didn’t know what Tim was about to tell you but whatever it was, it’s causing your anxiety to mix with his.

“Are you okay?”

“Perfect.”

“Then why do you look like you’re about to throw up?” you laughed nervously.

“I'm in love with you” Tim finally spit out, swallowing his fear and looking into your now wide open eyes.

“What?” your mouth was agape as you asked, your heart nearly exploded with eagerness and relief.

“I'm in love with you, and i want to take you on a date” Tim repeated, with more confidence this time. “Okay” you stated simply.

“Okay?” His voice was laced with a bit of confusion and happiness.

“Tim, i’ve been in love with you since we were in middle school and instead of hitting me with a dodgeball you took a hit for yourself because you just couldn’t bring yourself to tag me out” You laughed out, getting up from your paper tornado you've made around your office.

Tim pulled you into him with one hasty movement, “I wish i’d noticed sooner” Tim had a slight frown adorning his face.

“Every dead end street, led you straight to me, You noticed when it was the right time” you said quietly, wanting this moment to last forever.

“So, where are you taking me on our first date?”

#reader insert #the rookie #tim bradford x reader #tim bradford #tim bradford fluff #x reader #tim bradford x fem!reader #fluff #the 'taylor swift' series

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minisugakoobies · 1 year ago

Text

Hideaway | KHJ

Pairing: Hongjoong x Gender Neutral Reader (AFAB) Genre: smut, crack, strangers to lovers, Frat Bro!AU Rating: M (18+) Warnings: smoking/edibles, stoner!hongjoong agenda, woosan side pairing, oral fixation (as in the author reader is obsessed with joong's mouth), to be fair it's a very filthy mouth, dry humping, biting/marking, tit pinching/sucking, fingering, hongjoong goes downtown & eats it like a vulture, aka cunnilingus, wet & messy, cum eating, a tiny bit of exhibitionism, accidental voyeurism Word Count: 7.1K Disclaimers: NSFW, obviously I don’t own ATZ - they just inspire me

Summary: When your friend keeps dragging you to frat parties, all you want to do is find a place to hide and get high. You definitely don't expect to meet a man with a devilish smile and an even more wicked tongue.

A/N: Hello I'm back with more Ateez! This one's a very self-indulgent fic about getting high with Hongjoong. It all stemmed from discussions with @kiestrokes about what a gorgeous mouth Joong has 🥴 Lokie, I hope you enjoy what you've wrought 😜💕

Unbeta'd as usual. Like this fic? Want me to keep writing Ateez? Please let me know!

ATZ Masterlist 🍃 Main Masterlist

One hour. That’s all San asked of you. Go to a party with him for one hour, because his crush was going to be there, and he needed your support. As his best friend and roommate, how could you say no?

Two hours into the party, you’re wishing you’d put your foot down. You’re worn out from art studio this week, where it had been your turn to face group critique. Honestly, after that experience, you really don’t want to be around other people for a while. You long to crash on your couch with a stash of junk food and video games and not move until class on Monday. Instead, you’re holding up a wall in a frat house, watching your best friend dance with Wooyoung, the Alpha Tau Zeta brother who’d caught San’s eye.

You’re happy for San, truly, but a bit surprised at how quickly things escalated from “OMG he’s so cute, do you think he’d dance with me?” to Wooyoung climbing your friend like the mountain he is. San looks completely lovestruck as the other man wraps his arms around his shoulders, and you sigh, resigned to your fate.

San had promised that you’d leave together, saying he’d treat you to your favorite waffles at your favorite diner after the party, and you’d agreed, but now that means you’re stuck here for god knows how much longer. You could find him and tell him you changed your mind and you’re gonna go. He’d say okay, but he’d say it with that pout of his, and as long as you’ve known San, that pout has owned your weak ass, so there’s really no point. You’ll just wait.

However, hovering like a third wheel isn’t your idea of a good time, so you decide to find somewhere else to hang out. The room is packed with couples grinding, and you weave around them carefully, trying to avoid the beer sloshing about as a girl beside you really puts her back into it. The kitchen is just as cramped as the living room, a beer pong match taking up most of the space, so you keep wandering, until you come to the foyer, where there’s a staircase to the second floor. Wanting to put as much distance between yourself and the loud music, you start to climb.

It’s much less crowded upstairs. There are a few people scattered along the hallway, talking in small groups, or heading into the bedrooms, all of which have closed doors. You’re a little afraid of what you might walk in on if you open one, so you keep moving, hoping to find a quiet spot to sit and hide.

Instead, as you round a corner, you come to a dead end. But to your left, there’s a window that’s cracked ajar, night breeze just teasing you with enticing coolness after the rank humidity of the dance floor. You press your palms to the glass, peeking out. It looks like the window opens onto the roof of the back porch.

Gently, you lift the sash until you can stick your head out. The roof is flat, not sloped. It’s fairly dark, with only the moon above and the string lights crisscrossing the yard providing a pale glow. And, most blessedly, it is devoid of other people.

As quickly as you can, you shimmy out the window.

The backyard is dotted with kiddie pools still full of jello from the last wrestling tournament. In between the pools, the ground is a squishy mess of colorful gelatin and disgusting mud, which means that there are very few partygoers outside right now, besides a handful that you can hear beneath you, hanging out on the porch. But they can’t see you, so you can live with that.

Settling with your back pressed to the brick wall, you take a deep breath, relaxing. Even though it’s so late in the fall that the weather is already flirting with winter, it’s a nice night to be outside. The air is crisp, but you’re plenty warm in your sweater and jeans, toes tapping idly inside your boots. The moon plays hide and seek behind some passing clouds while you observe contentedly.

“No one’s supposed to be out here.”

“Fuck!” You jump, so surprised to hear someone address you. The voice came from the shadows of the opposite corner of the roof, where another window mirrors the one you came through.

There’s a short burst of laughter, and then someone leans into the light.

Reddish-orange hair hangs over a dark brow, above eyes scrunched nearly closed in glee, further expressed by a full bottom lip twisting upwards in a smirk. As you will your racing heart to ease off, a guy you’ve never seen before carefully steps across the roof. He’s wearing an oversized t-shirt over a long-sleeved striped shirt and jeans. His shirt doesn’t have any letters on it, but he must be a brother here if he’s trying to tell you what to do.

He’s almost unfairly gorgeous, this stranger who scared you nearly to death, and he’s laughing at you.

You attempt to recover your cool, leaning back against the wall again. “I didn’t see a sign.”

“It’s kind of unsaid.”

“Well, it kind of needs to be said,” you shoot back a little snappily, annoyed that your peace has been shattered. “You’re out here, too, you know.”

“I live here.”

“So that’s fine, then?”

He grins, a wicked thing that has your neck flaming with sudden heat, and slides further out of the darkness, until he’s about an arms-length away. “Ok if I sit here?”

“I mean, if unspoken rules don’t stop you, what’s me literally saying ‘no�� gonna do?”

Another quick ratatat of laughter. “You’re funny.” He drops down beside you, tipping his head back to rest against the wall.

You don’t say anything to his comment, waiting for him to say something else. Like explain why he’s out here or who he is to tell you where you can’t be or anything. A minute passes, then another. You hear the people on the porch heading back into the party and then there’s only the dull thumping of the music inside and the sound of the crickets chirping in the yard.

You wonder if you should say something to the stranger, maybe explain why you’re out here, but he seems pretty content to sit quietly, and if he’s happy to remain silent, so are you. He doesn’t seem like he’s going to actually kick you off the roof, so you release the tension in your shoulders, inhaling deeply again, and match his pose, staring up at the sky.

The wind stirs, brushing your cheek with gentle fingers.

“Not into parties?”

You glance over when he finally speaks. His profile is striking - sharp jawline, straight nose with just the slightest upturn. It makes you wish you had your sketchbook with you. He’d make a lovely model right now, pretty face lit by the soft luminescence of the moon.

“It’s not that. Just been a long week. I was planning on a quiet night in. But my roommate had other ideas.”

“And now you’re stuck here, waiting for them?”

You nod. The stranger hums.

“Yeah, I can sympathize. Kinda hard to have a quiet night here, like… all the time.”

It’s your turn to hum. “But… did you not know what you were signing up for when you joined a fraternity?”

He laughs again. You’re starting to really like the sound. “Do I need to remind you that you’re not supposed to be out here?”

“Do I need to remind you?”

“Fair.”

Another comfortable silence. This is your type of stranger - one who respects the sanctity of quiet moments. After a few more minutes, you decide, fuck it, and reach into your crossbody, pulling out your vape pen. You’re not going to get high high while you wait for San, not the way you had planned to do if you were at home melding with the couch, but you can at least take the edge off.

But before you do, you hold the pen out to the stranger. “Want a hit?”

He raises an eyebrow, nods.

Your gaze lingers maybe a few seconds too long as his lips wrap around the mouthpiece, drawing the smoke into his lungs and holding it there for a few seconds. He hands the pen back with an exhaled thanks.

You take your turn, tipping your face up to momentarily blot out the stars with smoke. The light cherry flavor hangs on your tongue while you hand the pen back over without asking. The stranger takes another lungful.

“So… do you have a name?”

“Of course I do,” you reply. Dumb questions get dumb answers. “Do you?”

His lips curl into a bright smile. “I do.”

Another pass. You check your phone, just to make sure San hasn’t sent you any messages. He hasn’t. He’s probably affixed to Wooyoung’s gorgeous face by now.

“Hongjoong,” the stranger says after another inhale. “I’m Hongjoong.”

“Nice to meet you, Hongjoong. Thanks for not throwing me off your roof.”

“Thanks for the tokes.”

He grins at you again, full teeth, and you can’t help but beam back. He really is rather cute -

“Hongjoong! Are you out here again?”

One of the brothers you’d seen playing pong earlier has his head out the window behind Hongjoong.

“Yeah, I’m here. What’s up, ‘Hwa?”

The other man looks past Hongjoong, squinting into the darkness. “Is someone out there with you? You know no one’s suppo-”

“Seonghwa. What do you need?” Hongjoong’s tone shifts, becoming a little authoritative.

“You better get in here. Mingi’s trying to get everyone to go streaking again.”

“So?” Your pen is still in Hongjoong’s hand, heading to his lips as he takes another puff. “He’s always trying to do that. No one ever agrees.”

“So, I guess he thought the best way to convince everyone was by going first. He’s currently doing naked laps around the beer pong table.” Seonghwa frowns. “It’s really throwing off my game.”

Hongjoong sighs, an exceptionally weary sound. Rising to his feet, he brushes off his jeans. “I better go put a stop to that.” He glances down at you. “If anyone tries to kick you off here, just tell them I said you have my permission.”

“And I need that?”

The smirk returns. And then he has the audacity to wink. Before you can catch your breath, he’s climbing back through the window.

Silence envelops you again. You lift your pen to your lips one more time before tucking it away.

The minutes tick by.

When the clouds drifting across the stars start to look like tantalizing wisps of cotton candy, seemingly close enough that you could reach out and grab some, your stomach lets out a growl. Maybe you should go grab San away and tell him it’s time to bounce. You’ve done your time. There’s a perfectly golden waffle just waiting for you to drown with syrup at the diner.

Besides, you can’t wait out here all night for cute boys who may or may not return. As much as you might want to.

“Again?”

Two weeks have come and gone since San dragged you to ATZ. And now here he is, knocking on your bedroom door and giving you his best puppy dog eyes as he informs you that Wooyoung’s invited him to another party tonight.

“Do you really need me to go? I thought you guys were hitting it off.” The two of them had been exchanging texts like crazy, and had gone on a date last weekend. You hadn’t seen your best friend this giddy in ages.

“We are. He’s amazing,” San sighs, a faraway look in his eyes. “But I need you there so I have a reason to leave. I don’t want him to think I’m easy.”

You try, you really, really do, but you can’t stop the laughter that bursts out of you. San has proudly called himself a slut on more than one occasion. In the three years you’ve been besties, you’ve never known him to deny himself some dick.

“Stop laughing!” San puffs his bottom lip. “I’m serious. I really like him, and I want to take it slow.”

“That’s so sweet,” you coo, pinching his cheeks. He ducks his head with a tiny “aish,” but you know he’s not mad. “But why can’t you just make up a reason not to stay?”

The pout returns. “Because he’s hot and I’m weak. Please, help me out?”

Sighing, you cross your arms. He’s not the only one without a backbone. “Maybe. What’s in it for me?”

“I knew you’d ask that.” With a grin, he holds out a small ziploc baggie. “Here.” He tosses it your way.

It’s a brownie. You grin. “Oh honey, you baked!”

San returns your smile. “The batch came out a bit stronger than usual, so that’s why it’s just a little square. Half of that is probably enough for you. But if you go with me tonight, I’ll let you have the rest of the pan.”

And just like that, you find yourself at another party packed full of people. This time, the beer pong table has been replaced with a giant ice luge, with coeds lining up to take their turns slurping jungle juice off the frozen display. You give the luge a wide berth, not wanting the sticky liquid to splash the boots you’re wearing. All the seats in the living room are occupied, and dancers are taking up all the open space left, so again you head upstairs.

Unlike the last time you were here, the roof does not provide you an escape, thanks to the chilly autumn rain that simply won’t let up tonight. It’s like the universe doesn’t want you pulling a Houdini this time. At least you have your brownie with you. You just need to find somewhere to enjoy it while you wait for San.

The doors to all the rooms on the second floor are closed, so you keep moving, climbing up to the third floor. No one’s in the hallway up here, and there’s a room with the door wide open, so you peek your head in.

Rows of books line shelves built into the two of the walls, The third has a fireplace, unlit, with photos of the fraternity brothers hanging above the mantle. There’s a rather nice overstuffed couch and a pair of high-backed chairs facing the fireplace.

“These frat boys live like kings,” you murmur to yourself, creeping forward to examine the portraits. Your eye is immediately drawn to one in particular, a redheaded man with a bright smile, whose photo bears the title “President.”

“I’m having the strangest sense of déjà vu,” a voice suddenly declares.

Whirling, you find the same man watching you from the doorway. Tonight, he’s wearing a white shirt decorated with big red hearts, unbuttoned halfway down his chest, and a pair of tight jeans. And that sexy smirk of his.

You frown, clutching your racing heart. “Do you enjoy sneaking up on people like that?”

“Only when they’re somewhere they shouldn’t be.” Hongjoong taps a sign on the door, which declares in extremely big, bold font: ATZ ONLY - KEEP OUT. “It’s clearly stated that this room is off limits. So what’s your excuse tonight?” Though his words are sharp, the gleam in his eye is playful.

Your lips twitch. “That sign probably would’ve worked better if the door had been closed.” You give him an appraising look. “Shouldn’t you be downstairs making sure your brothers keep their clothes on or whatever?”

While he huffs in amusement, you wander over to one of the walls of books, running your fingers along their spines. They’re all labeled with a year. Grabbing last year’s, you let it fall open to a random page of photos. Wow, some of the brothers appear to be really allergic to shirts -

Hongjoong snatches the album from your hands, closing it with a snap. “That’s private,” he informs you, slipping the book back into its slot. “And don’t try to change the subject. No one’s allowed in here but myself and my brothers. So come on.” He jerks his head towards the door.

“Counteroffer,” you say, producing your brownie from your bag.

Hongjoong pauses with his hand on the doorknob. “What is that?”

“A brownie.”

His eyes narrow a little. “Would you say there’s anything special about that brownie?”

You nod. Hongjoong glances out into the hallway. Then he closes the door.

“You’re awfully easy to bribe,” you inform him as the two of you settle on the couch, you in one corner, him taking the spot next to you. Carefully, you pull the brownie apart, handing him half.

“Don’t tell anyone. Can’t have my reputation getting ruined.” He holds his half up. “Cheers.”

“Cheers,” you giggle, tapping your half against his before taking a bite.

Hongjoong devours his brownie in mere seconds. A bit of chocolate clings to his lower lip, his tongue flicking out to capture it, and you force yourself to focus on the remainder of your half, so you’re not just sitting there staring openly at his pretty mouth, as much as you’d like to.

“So, is this your thing? Going to parties just to hide and get high?”

“Ha, no. Not normally. But my roommate keeps insisting that I come with him.”

“And where is your roommate now?”

You snort, licking crumbs from your fingertips. “Probably suctioned to Wooyoung’s face.”

Hongjoong laughs. “Ah, you’re friends with San? He seems like a great guy, from what Woo’s told us.”

“Woo talks about him?” You can’t wait to tell San. You can hear his bashful giggles now.

“Yeah. He won’t shut up about him, actually. It’s nice, but it’s also annoying as fuck.” Hongjoong winces. “Sorry. I shouldn’t be so blunt.”

“No, it’s fine, I get it. I love San, but I can only take so much puppy love before I get nauseous.”

“Exactly.” Hongjoong grins. He sinks down further into the couch, legs spreading open as he gets more comfortable.

The two of you are quiet for a moment, long enough for your brain to start asking questions. Is he planning on staying here with you? You’d kinda figured he’d eat the brownie and then go. Shouldn’t he be down at the party, if he’s the president of the frat?

“You know, you don’t have to babysit me. I’m not gonna do anything in here but melt into the couch for a little while.”

Hongjoong shrugs. His left hand plays in the rip above the knee in his jeans. “It’s not that I’m afraid you’re gonna do something. It’s just…” he trails off for a few seconds, lost in thought. “I’m not in a party mood tonight. You might not have been trying to hide, but I was.”

“Oh. Shit. Do you - would you rather that I leave, so you can be alone?”

He shakes his head. “Nah, you can stay. If you want to. I don’t mind your company.”

“Oh,” you say again, in surprise. Something flutters in your chest when he looks at you. “Okay.”

Hongjoong’s fingers return to the tear in his jeans, picking at the strings. “So… do I get to learn your name tonight?”

Oh, right. You’d never actually introduced yourself on the roof.

He peers at you, clearly waiting for your answer, and the flutter gets stronger. What is it about his gaze that makes you want to tease him?

“I don’t know,” you sigh, tilting your head as you look at him. “Have you earned it?”

His eyebrow quirks slightly. “Didn’t know I had to.”

You merely shrug, biting back a grin. He focuses on the wall opposite the couch, mulling over your words, while you sit beside him, primly arranging your skirt over your tights-covered thighs. The couch is ridiculously cushy and you’re already starting to relax into it.

“If you won’t tell me, I’ll just go downstairs and find San,” he says after a moment.

“That’s cheating!”

“Oh, does that upset the rule breaker?” He clutches his chest in mock horror, grinning when you laugh. “Excuse the fuck out of me.”

“I’m not a rule breaker. I just…” you falter for an explanation.

“Don’t care for parties and prefer pot over people.”

Hongjoong cracks up at the face you make in response to his too correct reading of you.

“You’re doing a terrible job of earning my name, just for your information,” you sniff, but when he laughs harder, bumping his shoulder into yours, you cave, giggling. He doesn’t move away when the laughter tapers off.

You make a little small talk. The usual stuff - what’s your major, where are you from, etc. He’s a music production major and apparently spends all his time in the studio, on the opposite side of campus from where your art studio is located. No wonder you’ve never seen him around before.

Eventually the room falls silent again. If it weren’t for the thumping coming through the floor, you could almost forget there are other people in the house. You let your eyes fall shut for a moment, ears straining to make out the music drifting from the first floor. It’s only the drums and bass that you can catch, something pulsating and rhythmic. Hypnotic, lulling you further into relaxation.

That’s when you feel it. That telltale body buzz that starts in your feet and spreads all over. Your thoughts become a little floaty, each one drifting away before you can really grasp them, and you turn to Hongjoong.

“I think I found the drugs,” you giggle.

Hongjoong lets out a single “ha” from deep in his chest, and then he hums. You let your head fall back against the couch and close your eyes.

“Oh shit, there they are,” you hear Hongjoong say, with another laugh, and you start to giggle again, and when you look at him, he’s watching you, and you wonder what it would be like to kiss him right now, with his face so close to yours. His lips look very kissable, meant to be nibbled and sucked. You long to, biting your own lip as you fantasize about his taste.

Hongjoong sighs. “Damn, I feel good. Thank you. You’re officially my favorite trespasser.”

“Is that a long list?”

His grin widens. “Longer than you’d think.” His eyelids lower a little as he leans closer. The air feels like it’s heating up around you now. Your skin tingles from your high, and it only increases when Hongjoong’s fingers cup your chin. “Can I kiss you?”

“Why?” is what flies out of your mouth in surprise, even though you’re dying to feel his lips on yours.

“Because I like kissing pretty people when I’m high.”

Heat pools in your belly, and you shift on the couch, reaching for him. As your fingers twist in his shirt, your mouths connect. It’s a slow, wet kiss, tongues warm against each other, rolling over and around. Messy, but neither of you care, both lost in the sensation.

When his arms wrap around your back, you slip into his lap, straddling his thighs. His head tilts up to greedily chase your mouth, and you tug his bottom lip with your teeth, shivering at the way he groans. His fingers dig into your shoulder blades as he pulls you down on top of him, so there’s no distance between you, just clothing and heat between you.

Hongjoong nudges your face with his, getting you to turn your head so he can nibble on your earlobe. His hands fondle your ass beneath your skirt, grabbing and pinching the ample flesh through your tights, while his mouth ripples down your cheek and neck, covering your skin in soft kisses, before finding your lips again.

It’s been too long since you’ve made out with someone like this. The last few people you kissed with all treated it like an annoying chore, something perfunctory that had to be performed in order to get what they really wanted. Hongjoong holds you like you’re something to be slowly explored, something to be savored, not just used.

“Feeling good?” He leans back for a second, brushing his hair out of his eyes as he peers at you. His face is flushed, lips darkened from your nipping, and the rather fucked out sight of him has you clutching at his shoulders, desperately pulling his mouth back onto yours.

“So good,” you moan when you come up for air, rolling your hips. He feels so amazing underneath you, hard cock bulging obscenely in his jeans, that you can’t help yourself, humping away mindlessly while you kiss, whining slightly when you can’t quite find the right angle to ease the aching in your clit.

Hongjoong laughs into your mouth, fingers sliding up to grab your hips. “Slow it down, baby,” he whispers, pressing more kisses along your jawline. With his strong grip, he takes control, guiding you back and forth, slower, but more forcefully, his own hips moving to grind himself up into you. “‘M not going anywhere. Take your time.”

Your whole body shudders at his words. With another pitiful whimper, you snake your arms around his neck, tangling your fingers into his hair as your mouth dives for his again.

Take your time. If he insists. With his encouragement, you lose yourself in the languorous pace he’s set, soaking panties rubbing on the rough denim below, friction building, a wave that never crests, just rolls on and on. You know you could do this for hours, make out and dry hump like this, without coming. It takes you much longer to come when you’re stoned, but the orgasms are so intense that it’s always worth it.

Your fingers brush over his neck and he shudders beneath you. Intrigued, you lower your mouth to his collarbones, picking a spot exposed by his open shirt, and gently bite down. He groans brokenly, hips jerking upwards, and you lick at the same spot a few times, lazy, slow strokes, before sucking, painting his skin with a love mark.

“Fuck,” he hisses, bucking again, with renewed urgency. Giggling, you sign your work with a light nuzzle before he grabs your chin, frantically bringing your face to his for more kisses, wet and filthy and so sensual that you feel like you’re nearly going feral with desire.

“Hongjoong,” you whine, needing more of him, greedy hands lacing into his hair. Your sense of touch is so heightened right now that the strands feel like silk wrapping around your fingertips.

As you moan again, Hongjoong’s hand travels to your neck, fingers playing there, curling and uncurling. “When you say my name like that, you know what it makes me wanna do?”

“Wha-what?” Your thighs are starting to get damp, covered in slickness from the sound of his husky voice. You grind down harder, gasping in pleasure when he meets your movements with a powerful thrust of his own.

“Sit you on my cock and fuck you stupid.” He bites his lip, looking down at your chest as it jiggles under your sweater. “Let you ride it. Could you do that for me? Ride it real good?”

“Fuck yes!” There’s no hesitation in your answer. It’s all you want right now, to feel him all over you and inside you. Yes, of course you’d be so good for him, because you know he’d be good to you. Even though you’ve only really just met him, you feel it in your soul.

“I bet you would. Ride it like a fuckin’ champ. Make it bouncy.” His right hand squeezes your ass, making you squeal into his kiss.

A dreamlike haze hangs over everything now. You stare open-mouthed while his left hand fondles your breast over your sweater. Then he tugs your top up and your bra down, far enough for the cool air to kiss your exposed skin. His deft fingers pinch your nipple sharply for a few painfully pleasurable seconds before his hot tongue replaces them, and your drug-and-lust-addled brain wonders dumbly for a moment who let out such a shameless mewl before you recognize that it was you.

Time stretches in that surreal way that it does when you’re high, making every minute feel like an eternity. Hongjoong laves his tongue over your other nipple, sucking the pert bud into his mouth, and you keen, head lolling back while pleasure ripples through you. His tongue is magic. You bet he gives good head. You hope you find out.

Unfortunately, though, while you’re wondering what his mouth would feel like on your cunt, time has not actually stopped, and there is still a party going on. Which you are rudely reminded of when it suddenly spills over into the room, popping the little bubble that you and Hongjoong have been hiding in.

“Don’t worry, no one’s ever in- oh, shit!”

A loud curse draws your attention away from Hongjoong’s tongue and to the tall brother standing in the doorway, frozen like a deer. There’s a cute coed holding his hand, peeking around him to see what made him yell.

“Yunho, what the fuck, man?” Hongjoong groans, a scowl twisting his kiss-swollen lips. “Get out!”

You’re moving sluggishly, brain lagging with arousal and what you’re recognizing is a lot of THC for such a small brownie, but Hongjoong seems to have more of his wits about him, as he carefully lets go of your sweater so you’re covered again. He doesn’t try to slide you from his lap, just places his hands on your waist to keep you steady.

Tall guy’s sputtering now. “I-I’m sorry, the door wasn’t locked, and - “

“It’s fine, Yun, just go, all right?” Hongjoong glances at you. “You okay?”

If you were sober, you’d probably be horrifically embarrassed to be caught tits-out. Might even run for the door so you could go home and hide for the rest of the weekend or month or year. But between the brownie and the man currently checking in with you, you’re feeling too good right now to really give a shit what anyone else thinks.

You nod at Hongjoong’s question, beaming happily. A crooked smile spreads across Hongjoong’s face, his thumbs etching tiny circles into your sides.

“Hongjoong?” Yunho’s basically a statue at this point, completely immovable in the doorway. “I know we’re not supposed to let anyone else in here, but seeing as how you have someone else in here, uh… am I gonna get in trouble for this?”

“If I say no, will you fuckin’ leave already?” Hongjoong glares at the other man, and it does not escape your attention how sexy he looks when he’s mad.

“I don’t know. I mean, we’ll leave, but I don’t know if you’re just saying that to get me t-”

“Get out!”

Your sudden shout snaps Yunho into action. He slams the door shut, leaving you alone with Hongjoong, who is gawking at you with his mouth hanging open. Oops. Maybe you shouldn’t have done that.

“Sorry,” you apologize, cringing. “I didn’t mean to shout.”

“No, that was so hot,” Hongjoong declares, leaning forward to kiss you eagerly.

“Yeah?” you pant against his lips in surprise.

He nods, nose jostling yours, and kisses you again, and again, until you’re dizzy, needing oxygen, but you’re unwilling to tear yourself away from his mouth. All you want is to lose yourself in him again, crawl back into that heat from before.

Just as you feel it starting to happen, he pulls away.

“We should probably lock the door,” he says, but he doesn’t move. His eyes are studying your face carefully, you realize, looking for any signs of objection. For some reason, that just makes your answer even more affirmative.

“Good idea,” you reply, slipping off his lap and crossing the room in three quick steps. You shoot him a glance over your shoulder as you twist the lock. Either the pot is slowing his reactions as much as it’s slown yours, or he doesn’t care that you catch him openly staring at your ass. He grips his cock through his jeans, hand flexing as he squeezes slightly.

His gaze is too intense even from across the room. It makes you shy, has you lowering your head as you return to the couch. His fingers slide under your chin, tilt your face up to meet his ravenous lips as he guides you onto your back.

Your boots hit the floor one after the other, followed by his sneakers. One of his arms props him up over you. His other hand grips your thigh, spreading your legs apart, allowing him to slot himself in between. He swallows your sigh when his fingers roam inwards, slipping against your core.

“Damn, baby, did I do all this?” he asks, rubbing at the dampness seeping through the layers of your panties and tights.

You pluck at the buttons on his shirt, palms skimming over the warm skin that’s revealed beneath. He hisses quietly when you brush over his stomach. Seems it’s not just his neck that’s sensitive. Good to know.

“Yes,” you nod, squirming slightly when he drops his hand to cup you. His thumb applies a bit of pressure so achingly near your clit that you whine, almost as loudly as you’d yelled before. “Please tell me you’re gonna do something about it.”

He smirks then, that maddeningly taunting smile of his. The one that tells you not to be fooled by his quiet demeanor. The one that tells you he’s trouble. “As soon as you tell me your name.”

His hand drags frustratingly slowly upwards, spreading your slickness as it goes, making you whimper. “Hongjoong!”

“No, that’s my name.” His fingertips are crawling now, moving closer and closer to the waistband of your tights, one millimeter at a time.

The anticipation is driving you insane. And it seems you’re not the only one enjoying it, judging by the way he’s rutting his bulge into your thigh.

“Don’t tease,” you complain, pouting.

“But that’s my favorite part,” he shoots back, grinning madly. Fuck. He’s trouble for sure.

His fingers trace shapes over your hips, back and forth, long lines that have you huffing in frustration. Then he curls them under the waistband, pulling them down, just the tiniest fraction of an inch, then another, tongue flicking out to wet his bottom lip as he looks at you, and then -

He stops.

You groan, head tossing back to bounce against the arm of the couch.

“YN, my name is YN, fuck, I yield!”

“That didn’t take long,” he gloats. “So desperate for me. I love it.”

If you weren’t still high, you might be embarrassed. Instead, you’re brazen, whimpering in agreement. You want him, just like he wants you, why bother to hide it?

He finally releases you from your misery by rolling down all that annoying clothing that separates you from him, tossing it onto the floor. A gentle scrape of his fingernails on your bare skin has you trembling, begging for more of his touch. He obliges, lowering his mouth to leave hot-breathed kisses on your thighs.

“Y’know what else I like to do when I’m high?” he asks, watching you with hooded eyes. His hands haven’t stopped moving, are languidly pushing your skirt up to your waist.

“What?”

“Eat pussy.” He licks his lips. “Wanna eat you, baby. Can I?”

“Please,” you groan, reaching for your skirt, pulling it up as far as you can, baring yourself to him. He grins, fingers spreading you open, and you twitch as the little puffs of his delighted laughter swirl over your sensitive skin.

Hongjoong flattens his tongue, dragging it up and down a few times. You keen, fingers digging into the wool of your skirt, clutching the material tightly, when he keeps moving up, circling your clit, before he undulates his tongue, making the tiny nub bounce. Then he switches back to licking stripes, pressing the taut muscle more firmly against you with each pass.

You feel like your entire body is pulsating in time with your clit. “Oh my god.”

“You’re so wet,” he groans happily, lapping without restraint at your pussy, sloppy and loud. “Could fuckin’ drown down here.”

His mouth. It’s sinful, how good he is with it, the way he kisses your folds and sucks on your clit. Uses it to say the filthiest things, keeping up a running commentary:

Look at you, dripping all over the place. Such a mess, baby. Let’s see how much wetter you can get.

Could eat this pretty pussy for hours and never get my fill. Got me so greedy.

Mmmph, love the way you taste. Bet you’re even sweeter when you come.

You don’t catch every word, given the way he mumbles them into your cunt, but you hear enough to have you babbling in response, chanting his name and praising his skills over and over.

When your words dissolve into moans, Hongjoong changes it up, adding his fingers to the mix. His mouth seals around your clit while he strokes inside you, warm walls spreading to allow his lithe digits to plunge in and out. Then he thrusts his tongue into your clenching hole, using his fingertips to roll your thrumming nub around, lightly squeezing as he fucks you with his mouth.

“Hongjoong!” You’re losing your mind, your entire body vibrating with pleasure. “Holy shit, please!” Can’t even finish your sentence, your foggy brain too busy focusing on holding your head up so you can watch him. Drool runs from the corner of your mouth, lips slack as you pant wildly.

He laughs, popping off your clit with a loud slurp. “Please what?” He nuzzles his face against your thigh, kissing it gently. “What do you need?”

“I - I need…” You break off with a sudden mewl as he presses insistently into that soft spot on your inner walls, like he’s trying to leave an impression of his fingertip. “Oh fuck, right there, don’t stop!”

“Don’t worry, I got you,” he vows, catching your eye. His face is a mess, hair damp with sweat, a shiny layer of your arousal smeared all over his mouth and chin. His hips keep rolling into the couch beneath him, and his voice wobbles a little as he speaks, but his gaze is unwavering. “Just lie back and let me do my thing. I’ll get you there.”

He drops his mouth to your cunt again, and keeps his word.

Time expands again as the tension inside you snaps. Your orgasm pulsates through you, flowing like a wave through your tingling body, wiping away all coherent thought, even turning your vision white for a few long seconds. Hongjoong’s fingers continue to massage your g-spot while his tongue still flutters over your clit, and you slowly come back to yourself, inhaling deeply before sobbing his name.

He lifts his head momentarily to observe the results of his hard work. “That’s it, baby. Let go,” he murmurs, tongue skimming down to lap at your release. Lost in ecstasy, you thread your hand through his hair, tugging his face closer to your cunt, and ride out your high on his tongue, hips bucking erratically. He voices his approval with a guttural moan.

Like any other time you’re high, you come for several minutes, shaking and twitching, panting and moaning. When your pelvis finally ceases moving and your fingers release their grip on his hair, Hongjoong pulls away. He doesn’t sit up, just lays his cheek on your hip, dark eyes scanning your face.

“I was right. You taste sweet when you cum.”

Jesus. That mouth. You start to giggle, flustered by his statement, both embarrassed and pleased, and he joins you, head bouncing slightly on your shaking stomach. Suddenly you’re overwhelmed by the need to feel him on top of you, to let his weight press you down, anchor you to reality, so with frantic hands you guide him back up to your waiting mouth.

His kisses are slower now, softer. He’s still hard beneath his jeans, grinding into you, but it’s not as desperate as it was when he was humping the couch. You slide your hands down his chest, down his stomach, down to where the buttons on this waistband lay.

Hongjoong ignores your little cry of protest when he suddenly draws away, sitting back on his heels and peering down, glimmering eyes merrily taking in the state of you.

“You’re gorgeous,” he tells you, and you believe him. “I’m glad you broke in here tonight.”

Despite yourself, you laugh. “I didn’t break - you know what? Not important.” You prop yourself up on your elbows, staring pointedly at his crotch. “Don’t you need help with that? I’m more than happy to return the favor.”

He smirks. “The party’s not over yet. We’ll get there.” Your stomach somersaults at the promise laced into his voice. “But speaking of parties…”

Right. Holy shit, there’s still an entire frat partying right outside these walls. Hongjoong’s unbelievable tongue managed to make you forget that for a while.

“I should probably go downstairs and check on things,” he finishes with a sigh, buttoning his shirt up halfway.

It’s strange, you’re still basking in the afterglow of your climax, and yet you can’t help but feel a pang of disappointment.

It’s just like when you get really high and then eat an entire convenience store’s worth of snacks. Weed makes you insatiable. Hongjoong just gave you an earth-shattering orgasm and you’re already dying for more.

Maybe you should thank him and let the moment be what it was.

“Right. Of course.” Begrudgingly, you let him go of him. He rises slowly, stretching and rolling his neck. “Um. That was great. I guess… I guess I’ll see you around?”

Hongjoong laughs, gesturing for you to stand. “Come on, you’re coming with me.”

Your heart pounds a quick beat at his smile.

“Why?” you inquire. “Worried I’ll learn all of Alpha Tau’s deepest darkest secrets if I stay here alone? Think you need to keep an eye on me?”

“Nah,” he replies, grabbing your hand. You let him tug you to your feet, let him pull hard enough that you crash into him, your palms landing on his chest while he slings his arm around your back to catch you. “I just want to keep my hands on you.”

If you liked this fic, please consider reblogging! Likes do not help it get seen by other readers. 💕

#ateez smut #ateez x reader #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez fanfic #hongjoong smut #hongjoong x reader #kim hongjoong x reader #kim hongjoong smut #hongjoong fanfic #kim hongjoong fanfic #fic: hideaway

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yuikomorii · 7 months ago

Note

I got a question but I need an objective answer please. So I saw a lot of people complain about Yui being written in a very bad way in Ayato’s routes starting with More Blood and was curious if you think that she became a bad girlfriend as the story progressed?

// I will analyze Yui’s versions from Ayato’s routes and provide an answer at the end of this post.

More Blood:

Even from the first two chapters we are aware of the fact that Yui got a big crush on Ayato merely because of his looks and pleasure he gave her. At first sight, these reasons seem very superficial, but at the same time you can’t blame her completely for that. Yui went to a normal school and used to read magazines for teens, therefore it’s obvious she would have hormones and fall in love with someone who got features portrayed as the beauty standard.

It's understandable why some found her annoying, as she repeatedly cried for Ayato's love without making any real effort to earn it. Apart from giving him her blood, she didn't try to understand what he was going through, even when she noticed changes in him that made him crave so much blood.

Nevertheless, I believe that she did redeem herself in the last chapters, where she admitted being selfish and only thinking about her own desires, instead of focusing on Ayato’s struggles too. I know she paralyzed him out of jealousy and cheated on him in the bad endings, but in the good one, she’s actually a really loyal person. Yui waited years for Ayato to wake up from the coma and Ayato searched for Yui for years in his dream until he finally woke up. This ending confirmed the genuineness of their love.

In the After Story, Ayato planned to attend university for Yui's sake, aiming to get a job and buy a house. Yui helped Ayato with his studies and praised his skills. Initially, she fell for his looks, but in the After Story, she mentioned falling in love with him again because of his caring, determined, and hardworking personality.

Vandead Carnival & Lunatic Parade:

I really liked Yui in both of Ayato's routes and honestly, I can't find anything to criticize about her behavior.

It's not that Yui was a bad partner; it's just that Ayato was portrayed as too good, such as when he ran through flames for her or protected her from a bomb explosion. But that's likely because these are fan service games, where the love interests are designed to be your knights in shining armor. xD

Dark Fate:

I absolutely loved Yui’s portrayal in that route. It was the sweetest version of Yui I’ve ever seen, and I really enjoyed seeing her so happy and soft. Regarding her relationship with Ayato, he was truly the apple of her eye, lol.

The only problematic thing she did was pushing Ayato to face his abuser, Cordelia, even though he didn’t want to. I honestly don’t care if a character does something to another character, as long as it doesn’t affect them and the story, so since Ayato didn’t get mad at her for that, I didn’t mind it much either. However, from an objective point of view, I agree that doing such a thing is quite bad. Being in the presence of someone who ruined your life can trigger intense memories and forcing a confrontation removes the victim's agency in deciding how to cope with their trauma. Ayato might not have been mad at Yui for planning that, but if it had been Laito, I’m sure he would have shown why Yui was in the wrong.

Other than that, she was a kind and supportive girlfriend throughout the whole route, clearly having no ill intent, and I appreciate that she had an actual important role in the route.

Lost Eden:

Ok, I really can’t defend her anymore there. She literally had no redeeming qualities, no matter how many times she got the chance to fix herself. I discussed my thoughts about LE Yui in this post, but I’ll sum it up.

She tried to convince Ayato that despite Cordelia abusing him, she actually did it because she “cared about his future”, and then acted surprised when Ayato started feeling uncomfortable because of her words.

Yui knew the reasons behind Ayato’s behavior, yet when his brothers started mocking him, she didn’t even try to defend him. Everyone ganged up on Ayato, and he was on the verge of a panic attack, yet she remained silent.

Another terrible scene was in one of the last chapters, when Ruki admitted to turning the Vibora Clan and Church organization against Ayato out of envy, aiming to kill him. Instead of criticizing Ruki’s actions, Yui justified them and spoke ill of Ayato behind his back. I wouldn’t like to date someone who claims to love me but keeps hurting me without learning anything… It felt as if Ayato only continued being together with her because he had no one else. No wonder he didn’t marry her there.

Chaos Lineage:

I found Yui quite boring in CL in general, but she started off as determined and sweet in his route, so I liked that.

For most of the route, Yui’s entire personality seemed to revolve around Ayato, and she didn’t do much. There were many cheesy moments between them that made me cringe. Still, I’m sure a certain audience enjoyed those.

My only complaint is that when his brothers started treating Ayato unfairly, despite the fact that he came up with the idea of breaking the glass floor of the church, Yui did nothing to defend him, again.

However, I do appreciate that she gave him that adorable monologue. I just wish she had done it in front of others instead of only acting when Ayato was already insecure and sad.

Now… let’s see what kind of girlfriend Yui was in each route by judging her progress:

MB: Good

VC: Good

DF: Very good

LP: Good

LE: Very bad

CL: Decent

#diabolik lovers #yui komori #dialovers #komori yui #admin

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bimbo-academy · 2 months ago

Text

Bimbo Academy: Orientation Day

Please enjoy the first chapter of my first ever hypno story, Bimbo Academy!

Warning! This chapter has an induction with no awakener. If you're easily susceptible to that, I would not recommend reading this story.

The induction will be listed in pink.

Dialogue will be written in purple.

I hope you all enjoy!

“Deidre, could you come in here please?”

Deidre hurried into her technical boss's office.

For most people, this would be a terrifying ordeal. Their mind might run wild with possibilities of what was about to happen. Were they about to be fired? Demoted? Or worse, given extra tasks without the higher pay?

But being the daughter of the CEO, Diedre didn’t have to worry about any of that.

Diedre’s father had wanted to give her the company outright when she had first graduated college. She was supposed to be COO until her father was ready to retire, when she would then properly take over.

But Deidre had insisted she start at the bottom. She wanted to rise the ranks on her own. Earn her way to the top instead of taking it like some sort of nepo baby.

So far, she thought she had been doing a great job.

She hoped her boss would agree.

Deidre had been working at the office for six months. Hopefully, her boss was calling her in to discuss giving her a good performance review.

“Yes, Miss Kathryn?”

“Ah, Deidre. Please, sit.”

Deidre quickly obeyed. She smoothed out her skirt and crossed her ankles, so she wouldn’t show Miss Kathryn anything inappropriate.

“Deidre, let me start out by saying you’ve been doing a wonderful job in this position. You’re one of my hardest workers. You always get your work completed on time. You’re well organized, punctual, and professional.”

“Thank you, Miss Kathryn.”

“I hope you don’t mind, but I went ahead and shared all of that with HR, and your father.” Miss Kathryn pulled out some papers and set them in front of her. “Your father, of course, was ecstatic. We had a small meeting, and we both thought it was high time to present you with a… special opportunity.”

Deidre nodded. Her father hadn’t said anything to her about this, but maybe he had wanted to make sure it went through the proper channels.

“Have you ever heard of Brainbow Academy?”

Deidre shook her head.

“Please, use your words Deidre.”

“I apologize. No, Miss Kathryn. I’ve never heard of it.”

“It's a highly prestigious four month program. I believe one of your stepmothers went to it?”

Deidre wanted to laugh, but retained a professional composure. Most of her step-mothers were brain dead bimbos. She almost didn’t understand what her father saw in them. But he constantly told her that after her mother, and first stepmother, he couldn’t bear to lose another woman he truly loved. But then why would he want to go on to marry three more women, only to divorce them a few months later? At least her latest step mother had stuck around. She had to admit, Lana was secretly her favorite of her fathers recent wives.

“Your father and I both think it would be an excellent idea for you to attend. Of course, it's ultimately up to you. But here’s the paperwork. Think about it over the weekend and get back to me, won’t you?”

Deidre nodded and took the paperwork. “Thank you, Miss Kathryn.”

“Of course, Deidre. You may return to your duties now.”

Deidre slid the papers into her messenger bag, and quickly returned to her work.

…

That night, Deidre returned to the home she shared with her father, half brother, and their step mom, Lana.

“Another day at the office?” Tommy, her half brother, asked.

Deidre snorted. “Another day of doing nothing?”

“Hey! I do a lot of things! My influencer kingdom doesn’t run itself!”

Deidre rolled her eyes. Sure, her younger brother did have successful social media pages. But other than that he spent most of his days screwing around playing video games. Or screwing around with other guys.

“Oh please. I bet all you did today was take a shirtless selfie and eat some pizza.”

“I had breadsticks too!”

“Uh huh. I’m sure that was so strenuous for you.”

Tommy playfully gives her the middle finger, then Lana called them down for dinner.

They both trotted down the stairs and into the dining room.

“There’s my wonderful family.” Deidre ignored her father grabbing Lana’s ass before sitting down for dinner. “How was everyone’s day?”

“Good.” Deidre also ignored the Grindr notification going off on her brother’s phone. “Might have someone over tonight if that’s cool.”

“Of course. Just change the gate code when they leave.”

“Awesome. Thanks dad.”

“Of course. Deidre? How was your day? I heard you had a little meeting with Miss Kathryn.”

Deidre nodded. “Yeah. She recommended some sort of program I should attend?”

“Oh yes. Brainbow Academy. Lana actually did that program, didn’t you sweetheart?”

“Mhm!”

Her father chuckled and kissed Lana’s hand. “I would love it if you attended Deidre. I think it would be extremely helpful for your future running the company. But of course, it’s all up to you.”

“I think I want to go. Although, I’m just confused about this one part of the paperwork? The ‘I consent to allowing Brainbow Academy to alter me in any way, whether it be physically, mentally, or spiritually?”

“Oh, that just means they want to try and change your mindset! They also have some classes about how to dress more… professionally. That’s truly all it means.”

“Alright then. I suppose I’ll do it. I mean, I already know about most of that stuff, right?”

“Absolutely.”

After dinner, Deidre went back to her room, and officially signed the papers.

…

A week later, Deidre arrived at her dormitory for Brainbow Academy.

“Oh… interesting.”

The dorm room was… unusual to say the least. There were two beds, but they were much larger than any other dorm bed she had ever slept in. They seemed much more comfortable than regular dorm beds as well. There also seemed to be much more storage than a typical dorm room. There was a large display cabinet, a desk with multiple drawers, and the nightstand drawers were the largest Deidre had ever seen.

Well, it was an exclusive academy. Deidre was one of only twelve students that had been accepted for this semester. She knew it was only on recommendation from her father, Lana, and Miss Kathryn, especially since she had applied so close to the deadline.

“Oh, wow,”

She turned around and saw a young man, about her age, standing in the doorway.

“I know, right? It's unusual to say the least.”

“It certainly is.” The young man set down his one box. “I’m Trevor. I guess we’re going to be roommates?”

“Deidre. Do you need any help with the rest of your stuff?”

“Oh, uh… no. This, this is all I have.”

“Oh! I’m, I’m sorry-I,’

“No no, it's ok.” Trevor sat down on his bed. “I’m just a light traveler I suppose.”

Deidre nodded. She could tell something was weighing on Trevor's mind, but she didn’t want to press so early into their relationship.

“We should unpack as much as we can. Orientation starts in half an hour.” He said.

The two chit-chatted as they unpacked, Deidre’s things filling the room where Trevor’s was lacking. They were laughing together by the time they entered the lecture hall, which was more like a high school gym than anything else. They went to sit down next to each other, before someone grabbed the back of Deidre’s collar and pulled her back.

“Sorry, I want the end seat.”

A bottle blonde girl sauntered to the other end. Diedre heard Trevor mutter ‘bitch’ underneath his breath. She playfully smacked him.

“Ouch! What was that for? It’s true!”

Deidre rolled her eyes. They sat down a few seats away from the bottle blonde and watched the others file in. Deidre noticed that Trevor was the only boy present. She hoped it wouldn’t be too awkward for him.

“Welcome students, welcome, welcome!” An older gentleman took the stage in front of them. “Welcome everyone. My name is Master Layton. Thank you all for joining us here. Now, I do want to apologise. I fear a lot of you have been misled about what it is we do here.” Master Layton held a small remote in his hand. He pressed a button, and small pieces of metal shot out of the seats, trapping everyone’s arms against their seats.

“What the hell?” Deidre said.

“I would now like to introduce my most lovely assistants, Bree and Gracie. Ladies?”

Two scantily clad women joined the man on stage. He pressed another button on his remote and a screen slowly descended from the ceiling.

“Bree, Gracie, and I are going to be your professors for this semester. Of course we will have a few guest speakers come in, but for the most part you will be under our care.”

The woman descended from the stage, and Deidre noticed they were each holding six pairs of headphones.

“I also apologize for this rapid induction, but over the years I’ve found that it works best with large groups of people. Wouldn’t you agree, ladies?”

“Yes Master.”

The women spoke in an eerie harmony. Deidre had been struggling against the restraints, but now noticed Trevor had been perfectly still.

“Trevor? Do you know what’s going on?”

Trevor closed his eyes as one of the women placed a pair of headphones over his ears. He seemed… relieved?

Deidre didn’t understand.

“Trevor? Trevor, no! No don't you dare put those on me! I dont con-”

The woman laughed, cutting her off. “But you already consented! You signed the papers, remember silly?”

Shit. Shit shit shit.

She continued to struggle as the woman placed headphones over her ears. Master Layton pressed another button on his remote, and caused a black and white spiral to flicker to life on the screen.