#he would have been hated no matter if he stayed or went back home

[deadgirlwalked]

Sometimes I think about Theon Greyjoy for too long and I get sick

[babeyun]

on the rebound ☆ p.sh [m]

synopsis: sunghoon doesn't mind babysitting for the neighborhood mothers - but he certainly doesn't mind when a certain eldest daughter is around to be taken care of, too. genre: acquaintances to ???. older!reader moment (because why not, but also it doesn't really come up.) angst, fluff, smut. this porn has plot, damnit! pairing: babysitter!park sunghoon x fem!older!reader ; mentions of heeseung x reader. word count: 6k rating: 18+. minors do not interact. warnings: swearing, alcohol (that they don't even drink LOL) mentions of toxic relationships, rebounds, reader is only older by a year. smut warnings: oral (f. rec),MUNCH!HOON!! PUSSY EATING ENTHUSIAST HOON!!! nipple play, subtle body worship (f. rec), unprotected sex (don't be silly, wrap your willy!), sub!hoon x sub!reader (just trust me), creampie, subtle breeding kink, wayyy too much whining and whimpering, pet names (pretty girl, baby, etc.) listen to: lie to girls - sabrina carpenter ; number one girl - rosé ; wait - dino ; btbt - b.i, soulja boy, devita ; die for you - the weeknd. author's note: this is for all my eldest daughters out there (not me but y'all stay safe!) i whipped this up while i was procrastinating studying for finals...so apologies if it's shitty (because it is shitty.) also, i dog on heeseung SOOO bad but i promise i love him i just needed someone. this being said, happiest birthday hoonie, i love u!

You and Sunghoon weren't strangers, you wouldn't go that far.

However, there was a good reason that you weren't friends – you were never home when he was at your parents' house. You'd moved out with your boyfriend a month or so into him babysitting your menace of a sister. She was well-behaved for him, but had been an absolute tornado of a child when your mother would ask you to babysit. You were actually the one who found Sunghoon through an ad on social media, and he'd been yet another thing to add to your parents' monthly budget.

Then again, no one told them to have another kid so late in their lives. Or yours, for that matter. You were eighteen when Mina was born, and it'd been a pretty rocky five years since then. You went off to college and didn't really get to see her grow up, and she soon learned you were someone she couldn't depend on emotionally because you were rarely able to stick around outside of holidays. It pained you, but you knew you'd eventually get the time to bond with her.

And that time came very quickly after meeting Sunghoon – because your boyfriend dumped you after six months, insisting he was too busy with school to maintain a relationship. Heeseung was a graduate student, and he tutored on the side for extra cash. Your parents funded your lifestyle, so you'd never worried about anything – until Heeseung sat you down and said that the relationship was stressing him out. 

Needless to say, a week after the breakup – you moved back in with your parents and left him to figure out the rent himself. It was a calculated move, but your parents agreed that you didn't need that kind of energy in your life. It didn't stop you from remembering all the other times Heeseung dogged you – from taking continuous 'breaks' from your relationship in the three years you were together, to falling prey to temptation (read: another woman grinding on him at a bar while you were two feet away.)

And you talked about him to every person you possibly could – including now, your little sister's babysitter as he washed dishes in your parents' kitchen. The conversation hadn't started out this way, he'd actually been telling you how much Mina talked about you while you were gone.

"Anyway, that kid loves you, man." He nodded as he slid a plate onto the drying rack, and you laughed softly. "Mina was born when I was a teenager. She just thinks I'm cool now, she'll go through the phase of hating me when she's older." You shrug.

"I wouldn't be so sure. She talks about you a lot, something about you playing a viobib?" His brow is arched, and you snort. "Violin. I played her the violin one time so she'd leave me alone. I'm surprised she talks to you so much, she has a hard time warming up to anyone. Even my boyfriend can't get her to talk to him."

His eyes narrowed slightly, "You have a boyfriend? Since when?" You shrug again. "Since before I met you. I guess I should say ex, though. Boyfriend is the title he prefers, but not the one he deserves. At least, not right now." You say pointedly, and his brows furrowed as he leans on the counter, arms crossed.

"Elaborate." "You're babysitting my kid sister, not giving me counseling."

"Consider it a perk for eldest daughters who act like they deserve shitty men." He says, a bite to his tone as you scrunch your nose. You sigh, nibbling your lip before rolling your eyes. "We're on-and-off. Sometimes I call it off, sometimes he does. He's in grad school and he tutors, and he said everything was stressing him out. He dumped me a bit ago, and I moved back in here. I'm surprised I haven't seen you around more."

"Right, so what about that arrangement is making you believe that you deserve this sort of behavior?" 

You peek up at him, his brows still furrowed as he awaits your answer. Your stomach tightens a bit as you blink. "I guess…I don't know, actually." "Okay, then ditch that loser." He shrugs, and you scoff. "He's not a loser. He's smart and sweet and we're just going through a rough patch." "If you have to justify his presence in your life or his treatment of you to your friends or anyone you talk about him to, then he's a loser. He sucks and he doesn't deserve to have access to you in any way." Sunghoon clasps his hands in front of himself, and you frown.

"He's nice enough." "Yeah, so is any other guy, babe. You're not gonna give just any dude a chance because he's 'nice enough,' are you?" He peers at you through his shaggy hair, and you feel your cheeks heat slightly in embarrassment. "The fact that you allow that behavior, seemingly quite often, will only make him make you his doormat. He'll do it over and over until he's sick of you, then he gets to dump you and make it seem like it was a mutual thing. You won't win in a situation like that." "It's not about winning." You mutter, grabbing a peach out of the fruit bowl in front of you. He leans back on the island, arms crossed in front of him. 

"Isn't it, though? There is always a prize and a player in a relationship. You," He taps the tip of your nose with his finger gently. "Are the prize, and he's the player. If he's not playing to win you, then he's playing to lose and wasting your time."

You stare into his eyes, not missing the way his brows jump as he leans slightly closer.

"Stop wasting your time on a shitty dude when you can do so much better. Especially if you're really as cool as Mina says. Kids don't lie about people they admire." His tone is slightly teasing, and you roll your eyes. "Mina has thrown eggs at me, I wouldn't be so sure she admires me." "I don't know, she said you're really nice to everyone. That you're funny, you can sing…dance…" Sunghoon lists a few things your sister said while you were asleep, and you feel your ears grow hot. "She also said you're the one who taught her how to do backflips, and that she wants to be like you when she grows up. I'd suggest getting that guy out of your life sooner rather than later so you can set a good example." "Did she mention him?" Your eyes snap up, and Sunghoon shrugs. "Once or twice. She said he makes you cry more often than not." You snort, shaking your head as you look down. "What does she know? She's five."

"Kids see things from an unbiased perspective, they're still learning how to be functioning humans. She associates him with you being upset, so I wouldn't be surprised if you told me that you're 'on a break' right now. I've been listening to you for five minutes and I already don't like this guy. If he cared, he'd be here. He doesn't care." "You're only saying that because it's what I need to hear." You roll your eyes as you avoid the rest of his spiel, and Sunghoon shakes his head, stealing a grape from the ones he washed for you earlier. "I'm saying that because it's the truth, and when I love, I make sure the person I love knows." "You don't even know him." You scowl, and he smirks. "Don't have to, babe. It's all over your face. You look defeated as hell when you talk about him." "Not your babe, Sunghoon." You shake your head, and he shrugs. "Could be, if you ditched that guy. I don't even know your favorite color but I can almost guarantee I'd be a better boyfriend than him."

"My favorite color is green." You mutter, and he leans closer to your face. "Anything else you wanna tell me about this guy?" "Why? You'll just be mean about it." You mumble, licking your lips when you feel his fingers tilt your chin up. He coos, "You're cute when you're defensive over a scumbag." "Stop that." You shove his hand away, and he smiles. "You need a rebound or something. All you've been able to talk about since you moved back is this guy. He sucks, babe." "Ugh, I know! Alright, I know he sucks, you don't have to rub it in." You frown, biting into the peach in your hand. "D'you know he'd never tell me I was pretty? I mean, I know I am, he didn't have to. But it would've been nice to hear every once in a damn while." You chew angrily, before hearing him laugh softly. "You have enough confidence for a man to feel like he doesn't need to tell you that. You carry yourself so well, it's honestly very sexy." You look up at him, meeting his eyes. They're calm and sincere, like he didn't just call you sexy in the middle of your kitchen while you're wearing a random t-shirt and sweatpants. "Me?" "Yeah, you. It's just us in here, Y/N." He snorts, "You seriously need to get over this guy. I don't like hearing you talk about this like you deserved it." "What do you know? You hardly know me." You know your voice sounds bitter, but it only spurs him on. "Don't need to know you super well to know you just need to feel appreciated." "Right, appreciated." You roll your eyes, tossing the half eaten peach in the trash. "Like I'm gonna find that in a rebound." "You can." He nods, making you snort. "Like who? You?" "Sure." He shrugs, and you nearly choke on your own spit. "What? Sunghoon, be serious." "I am being serious. If that's what it takes, I'm all for it." He shrugs again, like this is the most nonchalant thing ever, like he's not offering to fuck the bitterness out of you so you'll act normal again. You gawk at him, "Sunghoon, I cannot just use you like that. We hardly know each other, are you insane?" "Is it insane if I say I want you to?" He leans forward on the counter, a soft blush on his cheeks. You gape at him, his finger coming to close your mouth. "Does it matter how well we know each other? I'm sure it'll be a one time thing, and since we don't see each other often, I don't see the harm." "You want me to use you to get over my ex-boyfriend? You want to be my rebound?" You're shocked at his suggestion, he can tell as he shrugs. "You can use me anytime you want. Think about it." He winks, pushing off the island.

You feel your cheeks grow hot as he leaves the kitchen, letting you sit with your thoughts.

Sunghoon lived a mile away, in an apartment complex you helped him pick out once your parents hired him. Your mother had insisted he live in the house, but your father refuted by saying Sunghoon was a grown man, he needed his own space. You'd taken him to fill out the paperwork, and it was one of the last interactions you'd had with Sunghoon before moving out.

You sigh shakily, running your hands through your hair.

It wasn't the worst idea. You knew that Sunghoon wouldn't have offered it if he wasn't attracted to you, at least. You knew what it was like to feel desired, but something about the way Sunghoon looked at you made you feel giddy.

Maybe it was the promise of feeling something new, or the idea that you shouldn't do it – because he works for your parents. Getting involved with you could cost him his job, if anyone found out. 

You feel your phone buzz in your pocket, and you sigh as you reach to grab it.

Message From: Park Sunghoon (Babysitter) [8:32pm] you know where i live if you're down. [8:32pm] just let me know, gorgeous.

Fuck.

Bad idea, bad idea, bad fucking idea.

It hadn't even been a day since you and Sunghoon had the conversation in your parents' kitchen. Or rather, the awkward moment in your parents' kitchen. 

It'd been three hours. It was nearing midnight as you stood in front of the elevator, the cold December air biting at your exposed legs. You'd gone to a late dinner with your friend Aeri, and you'd be lying to yourself if you didn't admit that her encouragement is what got you into this predicament.

The elevator dings, revealing a young girl and her dog attempting to step out. You give her a soft smile, earning a nod and a have a good night as you step in. You press the button to the third floor, bouncing on your heels as the elevator starts moving. This could be the worst fuck of your life and you won't even know until after, or even during. What if it's the best fuck of your life and then you're just forced to be around him as his employer rather than a potential fuck buddy or even worse, a girlfriend? "Get it together, Y/N." You mutter to yourself, hearing the elevator ding as you reach the third floor. You step out, turning to the right and walking past three doors, before standing in front of his apartment. His doormat is that of a frat boy's – Please Don't Do Coke In Our Bathroom.

You snort, before knocking on the door softly. You hear rustling, and the lowering of a TV before the pitter-patter of dog feet. You hear him sigh as he unlocks the door, his face appearing before you as he opens it. He looks surprised.

"Y/N, what a pleasure." He speaks smoothly, and you roll your eyes. "It's cold, invite me in." You cross your arms across your chest, making him smile as he steps to the side. You walk in, shivering as you carefully step out of your heels. You squat to pet his dog, but she disappears behind his legs. You pout at him, and he just snorts. "She's shy."

"It's fucking freezing outside, Hoon." Your teeth chatter as he closes the door, taking your scarf as you hand it to him. "Well, you're barely dressed. I assume it would be cold when you're half naked." "Did you want me to wear layers and make this take ten times as long? Be serious." You huff, sliding your coat off. Granted, you'd put this dress on with the idea of going to a bar after dinner and posting thirst traps on your story for Heeseung to see and yearn for…

Which is shitty of you to appear in Sunghoon's apartment after thinking that way.

"I don't think you wore this for me, Y/N. You were at dinner with Aeri." He rolls his eyes, and you forget he also has your Instagram. "Man, just take the win. Do you wanna fuck me or not?"

He shrugs, "Do you want me to?" "You wouldn't have offered and I wouldn't have shown up if the answer to either of those questions was no." You say pointedly, and he clicks his tongue. "I guess you're right." "I usually am." You roll your eyes, making him laugh. "Here, have a seat." "What, are you gonna wine and dine me?" You tease, and he smirks, disappearing into his kitchen. "Could say that." You take a seat on his couch, looking around the apartment. He's decorated in a very Sunghoon  way – lots of black decorations and shelving on the exposed brick, an array of books on a shelf to the left of his desk and a record player. You look at his coffee table, the fashion magazines and editorials stacked high.

"You always snoop through people's things?" His voice rings behind you as he holds two glasses and a bottle of wine you're sure you've seen only in your father's reserve. You huff, "Well you leave me here to entertain myself, I'm bound to look around." "Valid. Come on." He tilts his head for you to follow him, your cheeks aflame as you do just that. He leads you down to his bedroom, a large bed with a black duvet in the middle of the room. More books, a few incense candles, a few figurines in the corner of his room. "I like what you've done with the place." "Thanks, it only took fucking forever to figure out what I wanted to do. I think the exposed brick makes for a bigger headache than those home bloggers make it out to be." 

It makes you feel at ease, how easy conversation can be with Sunghoon. He doesn't make anything feel inorganic, but he also doesn't talk more than necessary in order to get his point across.

"How long were you with that guy, anyway? Here, put this on." He holds out a pair of sweatpants, which you take with a quizzical look. "Three years. Uh, Hoon, the point is to be naked here, not put on more clothes." "Is that how it was with him? You'd just show up and strip?" He rolls his eyes, digging a shirt out of his dresser for you. You feel your cheeks warm as he hands it to you, before giving you a glance. "Was it?" "...Kind of." You look at your feet, and he sighs. "Yeah, well…I don't play that. Do you need help getting your dress off?" "Oh, yeah. Just the zipper." You turn, pulling your hair to the front. You feel his fingers graze your back, before he tugs the zipper down in one go. He snaps your bra strap playfully, "We can lose this, though." "Yah!" You swat his hand away, making him laugh as he turns away. "Do you want to watch something or just talk?" "We can watch something, whatever is fine. Just nothing scary, my room is spooky at night." You shudder as you undo your bra, folding it in your hand before tugging the shirt over your head. "Oh, do you intend on driving home after?" "Did you want me to stay?" Your words sound a bit bitter, and that only makes Sunghoon frown as he scours the selection on HBO from his bed. "Dude, the more things you say, the more scummy I realize this guy was to you. Next thing you know you'll tell me he never went down on you." You freeze, and Sunghoon gapes at you as you turn around, pulling the shirt down your torso. "Y/N, you've got to be kidding me." "No, he did a few times, I swear!" You try to defend him, but Sunghoon only scoffs out a laugh. "That's fucking insane. Like, actually insane." "Hoon, you're embarrassing me." You whine, and he only blinks. "Why would you be embarrassed that he didn't wanna eat you out? That in itself is embarrassing for him. Real men eat pussy, and they eat it with gusto." "Shut up." You cover your face with your hands as you hear him sigh. "I'm just saying. Now, come on. Either put the pants on or lie the hell down." You huff, shoving the pair of sweats on before joining him on his bed. This is normal, friends fuck all the time.

Except you and Sunghoon are not friends.

You must've spaced out, because the feeling of Sunghoon squeezing your knee makes you jolt. "What are you thinking about?" "Nothing." You lie, shaking your head. He hums, turning his attention to the random movie on the television. "You're a bad liar, you know?" "Am not." Scoffing, you turn to face him. Your knees hit his outer thigh as you turn, and he gives you a lazy smile. "You are. You were staring off into space and chewing on your cheek for like, five minutes. What's up?" You scrunch your nose, looking down at your hands as he tilts his head. "You can tell me, you know. I don't judge." "Don't you, though? I mean, I'm here after you absolutely dogged on my ex earlier." You snort, and he smiles. "I'm judging your ex, not you. Well, not right now at least. I will always dislike the fact that you think you deserved that treatment, let alone from a guy who probably couldn't even make you cum." Your eyes snap to his, shock across your face as he pinches the bridge of his nose with a sigh. "Babe, come on." "He was nice!" You whine, and Sunghoon just laughs in disbelief. "Don't laugh! It's not funny!" Your lip is jutted out in a pout, before Sunghoon maneuvers you onto his lap. He makes you move up closer, your ass resting high on his thighs. "He really didn't make you finish?" You groan, adjusting yourself to sit comfortably. "I mean, he did a few times. Just not as often as I would've liked. I don't want to talk about him." You rub your temples, Sunghoon's hands finding home on your hips. "Okay, we don't have to. Tell me what you like." "What I like?" You repeat, and he nods. "Yeah. Like…positions. Any kinks, anything I should know to make this the best experience possible."

"...Does it matter?" Your voice is meek, and he rolls his eyes. "Yes, it matters. I want you to feel good. If you don't know, I can figure it out. You just have to trust me." You feel your chest warm at his words, and you glance at his face as he speaks again. "We can go as slow as you want, this is about you." "But what about you?" You toy with the hem of your shirt, and he smiles. "I'll enjoy myself either way, don't worry about me." His hands squeeze your hips gently as he looks down at you. "You okay?" "I'm nervous." You mumble, looking away as he coos. "Baby, you don't need to be nervous. It's just me." His hand comes to hold your jaw gently, making you face him. He squeezes your cheeks gently, making your lips pucker.

"You're so pretty." He smiles as he compliments you, making you roll your eyes in embarrassment. "Stop." "Why? You are. Pretty little thing." He's teasing you, your hands now holding onto his wrist as he inches closer. "Should I kiss you?" "Yes." Your reply is more of a breath, and he chuckles. "Seriously, it's okay. I'm not going to hurt you, promise. Unless you're into that."

"Kiss me already." You groan, making him roll his eyes before closing the gap between you. His lips are soft and taste like cherry Chapstick. His hand lets go of your face, moving slightly down to the base of your neck. Your own hands move to fist his shirt as his teeth nip at your lower lip, a whimper from your throat making him move you impossibly higher on his lap. His other hand moves to the nape of your neck, tangling in your hair to hold you steady as his tongue slips into your mouth. 

"You'll stay the night, right?" He pulls away from your lips, eyes searching your face for any sign of hesitation. You nod as best as you can with his hand in your hair, "Yeah. If you want me to." "I want you to." He whispers, before letting go of your hair. "Can we take this off?" He tugs at the shirt he gave you, and you move to tug it over your head. He lets you, watching the way your hair cascades down your back. His hands find home on your waist, his thumbs barely grazing the underside of your breasts as you look back at him, flinging the shirt somewhere behind you.

He doesn't say anything, only meeting your lips in a kiss. It's softer this time, but your tongue finds its way into his mouth gently. He sucks on it, hearing a low moan from you as your hips cant against his. "Sorry." 

"No, don't be." He shakes his head, pressing chaste kisses to your lips. "Use me however you want, baby. That's what I'm here for." 

"But–" "This is about you. Just let go." He meets your lips once more, kissing you deeply as his hands grip your hips tightly. He moves you against his hardening cock slowly, setting a gentle pace for you. You follow his lead, rutting against him as his hands move upward before you grab them and place them on your chest. He groans lowly into your mouth, thumbs grazing over your pebbled nipples as he drags his lips down your jaw, your soft whimpers filling the air as his teeth nip at your neck.

"S'fucking gorgeous." He murmurs against your skin, tracing his tongue down the gentle slope of your neck, a shudder running down your spine as he kisses down your chest. "Can I?" His doe eyes peer up at you though shaggy bangs, and you nod quickly. Your fingers card through his hair as his tongue flattens against your nipple as you groan.

"Feel good?" He mumbles against your skin. You only breathe out shakily as you nod, your lip bitten between your teeth as he nips and sucks his way across your chest, your nipples glistening with his spit. He scrapes his teeth against one gently, earning a guttural groan from your lips as he kisses up your chest. "Wanna taste you, angel. Can I?" Your pupils are blown as you look down at him, your fingers pushing his hair back as his hands dip below the sweatpants you're wearing. "Can I?" "Okay." Your voice is slightly raspy with lust, and he smiles softly before pressing a kiss to your lips. "We can stop anytime, just say the word." 

You nod, moving off his lap. He lays you back on his pillows, kissing your lips softly before trailing down your body. "So beautiful, baby. Can't get enough of you." He kisses down your stomach, before his teeth catch on the waistband of the sweatpants you're wearing. He bites down carefully, pulling them down your legs as you cover your face with a whine. "Something wrong?" He calls, pulling them off your ankles and flinging them to the ground.

"No." You respond weakly, and he smirks as his fingers land on your thighs, pulling you closer to him. "You're lying." "You're just hot, okay?" You peek at him through your fingers, seeing him shake his head as he snaps the waistband of your underwear against your skin. You jolt as he smiles, before sinking to his stomach and spreading your legs. You hear a soft whisper of shit from his lips. "Sorry? Is something wrong?"

You try to move away, only for Sunghoon to hold your hips down. "You're fucking soaked, doll. Holy shit." 

He doesn't give you a chance to respond, opting to press his face against the sticky fabric of your ruined underwear and inhale deeply, a whine from his throat hitting your ears as he noses at the fabric. "You're so fucking hot."

You feel his tongue before you reply, the underwear a useless attempt at a barrier as he finds your clit easily. Your thighs tense around his head, his preening at the taste of you just through the fabric is enough to make him cum in his pants. "Hoon…" You mewl, your fingers tugging at his hair to get his attention. He only hums in response.

"Take them off." Your whine is loud, and he hastily pulls your underwear down your plush thighs, throwing it over his shoulder as he dives back in, tongue lapping at your wet cunt like a man starved. You're a moaning mess as his pouty lips wrap around your clit, sucking gently as he pushes your thighs open further, working two fingers inside you carefully. He groans at the way you clench around them so tightly, your walls so warm and wet as he curls them into you.

"Taste so sweet, pretty. Would never give this up, ever." He murmurs against your clit, pressing wet kisses to it. You can't even respond, your eyes screwed shut as you cant your hips against his mouth harshly. "That's it, baby. Come on, give it to me." He's whining against your pussy, latching his lips to your clit as your thighs begin to tremble.

"H-Hold my hand." You mumble, and Sunghoon immediately laces his free hand with yours. "Need you to cum on my tongue, beautiful." His fingers find that spongy spot, making your soft belly cave in as your thighs close around his head. A choked moan leaves your lips as you coat his tongue and lips in your orgasm, your body trembling beneath him as you try to push his head away from you. "S'too much, Hoonie-" "One more, baby. You can give me one more." He bullies his shoulders through your thighs, moving to hover over you. He presses his wet lips to yours, your tongue attempting to collect any taste of you off of him. He lets you deepen the kiss, his hand snaking between your legs to rub teasing circles into your clit. Your mouth falls slack, your nails digging into his bicep. "One more, baby. Wanna feel you around me." "O-Okay." 

He reaches over you to his nightstand, pulling the drawer open to find an empty box of condoms. "Fuck, wait. I think–" "Want it raw." You mumble, eyes closed as your hands run under his shirt, fingers tracing circles into his softly chiseled abdomen. His eyes are wide, his hand coming to your face, stroking it gently. "Look at me. Are you sure?"

"Positive. Want it, Hoonie. Wanna feel full." You barely open your eyes as you nod, turning your head slightly to kiss his palm. He shivers slightly, closing his eyes to compose himself as he nods. "O-Okay. Alright." He straightens, pulling his shirt over his head and quickly pushing his sweats down. You don't bother to look down, knowing in your heart the stretch will be worth a thousand viewings. He pulls you to the edge of the bed by your thighs, carefully tucking a pillow under your hips as he rests your leg on his chest. He kisses your ankle softly, before running the leaking tip of his cock through your wet folds. He nearly buckles, the warmth almost debilitating as he eased himself into you. Your mewl is so soft he almost misses it, his eyes darting to your face as he slowly sheaths himself inside you, biting his lip so hard he's sure he'll draw blood. Your lips are so swollen from the kissing and biting that he can't help but lean over and kiss you gently, burying himself to the hilt inside you. Your soft whisper of fuck is against his lips. "Move, Hoon." "You gotta give me a second, baby." He whines into your neck, making you clench around him. "Fuck, fuck don't do that." His hips jerk involuntarily, earning a choked moan from you as your nails dig into his shoulder. He straightens himself, figuring if he's going to cum fast, he'd better make it worth your while. He pulls out almost entirely, pushing your thighs to your chest as he bullies his cock back into you. Your moans are so loud he's lost in them, your chants of yes, yes, right there so overwhelming for him as he tries his hardest to stave off his own orgasm.

"Feel so fucking good, baby. Shit." He whimpers into the air, his grip on your thighs bruising as you mewl beneath him, your hands finding his wrists. "Kiss me, Hoonie. Wan' a kiss.." He leans forward, the kiss a mess of teeth and tongue as he bottoms out inside you repeatedly. His tip is bullying your sweet spot relentlessly, making you whine into his mouth. "Want you to cum in me." You whisper, and he almost stops as the words hit his ears but your nails drag down his back. "Want you to fill me up, Hoonie. Please."

"Anything you want, fuck. I'll give you anything, baby." His voice is choked as he trails his lips down your neck, feeling your cunt flutter around him in that oh-so-familiar way. "Gonna cum for me? Gonna cream all over this dick?" You only whimper in response, your teeth sinking softly into his shoulder. He feels himself spill inside you at the sensation, a deep groan from his soul as you cum right after. He doesn't stop working the two of you through it, his hips bordering the two of you into overstimulation as you claw at him.

He feels his skin sticky as he rests his forehead on your shoulder, your fingers now flat against the muscle of his back as you breathe in deeply. You shift slightly beneath him, before patting his shoulder. "I don't…I can't get up, I don't think. I can't feel my legs." You rasp, and he chuckles into your skin.

"Yeah, that's usually what's supposed to happen." He replies smugly, earning a sharp smack from your hand in the middle of his back. "Ouch! What the hell!" "I told you to stop making fun of me!" You huff, and he moves to look at you. "I'm not! Did I not just give you two mind blowing orgasms?"

"I wouldn't say mindblowing–" He rolls his eyes as he covers your mouth. "I made you cum, which was the goal. Was it not?" "No, the goal was to get over my ex." You say, muffled by the palm of his hand. He ponders a bit, before looking down at you intently. "Well, are you?" You feel your cheeks flush as you look away. "Maybe. Might need to go again, don't know. Not fully convinced." "Not fully convinced, she says." He removes his hand from your mouth as he teases you gently, and you roll your eyes. "Okay, fine. You're good, you got me." You admit tiredly, and he smiles.

"For how long?" "What?" You look up at him, and he shrugs. "How long do I have you?" You let your eyes scan his face as he looks down at you with curiosity in his eyes. You scoff, an amused tone to your voice. "You like me." "Obviously." He rolls his eyes, "Otherwise I wouldn't have offered." "You sly little minx. Luring me in here with the premise of getting me over my ex, knowing I'm on the rebound." You poke his chest, and he scoffs. "Clearly, you like me too. Or else you could've absolutely dodged my offer." "Or maybe I think you're hot and wouldn't mind seeing you outside of the cute little necklaces my sister makes you wear." You tease, and he shrugs. "I'll take what I can get. Either way, do you feel better? Less thoughts about that idiot, more good feelings?" You nod, sitting up on your elbows. "Let me take you to dinner, Hoon." He blinks at you, before glancing at the clock on his nightstand. "It's two in the morning, babe." "Not right now. Later. After you're done babysitting." You say, and he raises his brows. "Are you sure?" "I wouldn't offer if I didn't want to." Your tone is pointed, and he scoffs. "You want me so fucking bad." "In your dreams. Get off me, I'm all sticky."

He does just that, and takes the most gentle care of you. He lets you lean against him in the shower, he shampoos your hair and steals kisses when you least expect it. He changes his sheets while you try to sit comfortably in his desk chair, complaining of sore hips and thighs as he smirks to himself. "So much for a rebound, huh?" He murmurs into your hair as you snuggle into his side, making you snort. "Go to sleep, Sunghoon. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, babe."

"Not your babe, Hoon."

"Not yet."

BABEYUN © 2024. no translations, reposting or modifications are allowed. do not claim as your own. viewer discretion is advised. your media consumption is your responsibility.

[eufezco]

LIKE THE FIRST TIME

it has been a long time since you and logan had sex. you should show him that despite everything he hated about himself, you still craved him.

logan x afab!reader (smut, angst) + no use of y/n. english isn't my first language (!). gif credit to @/asgardswinter

it was a shitty place where you were living with logan. it was always dirty, no matter how many times you cleaned it, it was noisy, because despite being in the middle of nowhere, the train tracks were very close to it, and it was the least home-like thing in the world. both of you were working your asses off to get out of there as soon as possible.

in your free time, you helped caliban with the housework and took care of old charles xavier while logan spent the whole day out, driving and having to deal with one of the things he hated most in the world, people.

he always came home late, tired, with his whole body aching. some nights you would fall asleep while waiting for him and even though logan asked you to do it, to not to wait up for him, most times you stayed up so just to make sure he arrived safely. you waited for him curled up in bed. when he was a minute late, your heart began to beat faster and you imagined the worst. but then he would come into the room, dragging his feet and with his head bowed down.

—how was your day?

logan grunted as he sat at the foot of your bed, you felt how the mattress sagged with his weight.

—did something happen?

you crawled to him and rested your chin on his shoulder. he let out a sigh of relief when your arms wrapped around his body and you hugged him from the back.

—just a tired fuckin' day, that's all.

you hummed, understanding. —well, now you are home so you can finally relax. would you like something to eat?

logan shook his head as he let it fall back and rest on your shoulder. he just wanted to stay like that a little longer with his body between your legs and his eyes closed. he placed one of his hands over yours resting on his stomach as you hugged him. one of his big hands was enough to cover both of yours.

—i've missed you, lo. i always miss you when you are away.

you placed a kiss on his neck. the first thing he did when he entered the house was to get rid of his shirt, keeping only the white tank top he was wearing underneath. his broad shoulders were at your disposal, his muscular arms and warm skin as well.

logan swallowed when he felt your lips on his neck. you noticed so you placed another kiss there.

—i miss you too. every second i spend away from you, i miss you.

you hummed, your heart gave a small jump of joy. while your love language was words of affirmation and you were always reminding him how much he was loved by you, logan was more of an act of service man. removing makeup from your face when you got home and were too tired to do it yourself, washing your hair and massaging your head when you showered, and leaving your coffee ready when he went to work earlier than you. hearing those words come out of logan's mouth meant the whole world.

your hands traveled down his abdomen until they reached the hem of his tshirt and easily slipped under the fabric. you felt his perfect abs under your fingertips and the hairs growing below his belly button as well. he took a deep breath, it had been so long since the last time he had allowed you to touch him like that.

you took your hands out of his tshirt and moved one of them to his neck to make logan turn his head resting on your shoulder and look at you. you connected your lips with his, his bushy beard pricked your face as you kissed him, but you didn't mind, it had been so long since you and logan had kissed so passionately that you could take it.

your tongue slipped past his lips and logan moaned, allowing his to go inside your mouth as well. you moved on the bed, putting one leg on each side of logan's body and sitting on his lap, all this without stopping kissing for a second. his hands now rested on your lower back, yours were on the back of his head to deepen the kiss.

his cock got rock hard the moment you sat on his thighs and you started to roll your hips timidly against his crotch. you felt his growing bulge rubbing against your clit through the thin fabric of your underwear. god, how bad you needed to feel him.

your hands slid down from his neck, caressing his entire torso, until they reached again the hem of his tshirt. you tried to pull the white tank top over his head, but logan stopped you. his lips parted from yours and he shook his head.

—it's okay. i want you, logan. i promise everything is fine.

you held his cheeks so he would look you in the eyes.

he was getting old, there was nothing left of the young and charming boy you met at charles' academy. his body had changed, his hair and beard were becoming whiter every day, and you were still young and full of light while he was fading away. yet you still loved and desired him, like the first day you craved his body. you found him just as hot, even hotter now, but you didn't want to force him to do something he wasn't going to enjoy.

you kissed him so he could stop worrying. —let me take care of you. i want you, lo, i need to feel you —.you mumbled against his lips. he let out a grunt when he felt you pressing your pussy harder on his bulge.

your hands traveled the same path down his chest one more time until you reached the edge of his tshirt again. you expected him to take your hands off him again but he not only allowed you to keep going but he also lifted his arms so you could pull the white tank top over his head.

—fuck —. you let out in a mix of moan and gasp. his body was breathtaking. your hands were quickly attached to his chest, hairy, hard under your touch, warm, with each of its muscles perfectly defined. abs, pecs, perfect broad and muscular shoulders, and wide strong arms, with veins running from his shoulder down his arms to the back of his hands. you ran your fingers along the thick scars that marked his body. —fuck, you're so hot.

with his hands on your back, logan gently pushed you to keep rubbing yourself against him and you moaned, he was harder if possible and you were so wet that you knew that your panties would be completely soaked. you kissed the crook of his neck while his fists clenched, clutching at the tshirt of his that you were wearing as your pajamas. logan fought against his instinct, against the animalistic way you were making him feel, but his grip became so tight that he ended up ripping the fabric.

—it was one of your favorite tshirts.

—don't care.

and logan kissed your lips as he ended up tearing the fabric completely and threw it on the floor. you grabbed the back of his head when his lips moved down your neck and collarbone. your nipples were already painfully hard when logan cupped one of your tits and wrapped his mouth around your sensitive bud.

all of a sudden you got up from his lap and he had to let your nipple go. he was worried about the way you had moved away from him, had he done something wrong?

now you were standing in the middle of the room, in front of him, only wearing your panties. your body was the most beautiful thing his eyes had ever witnessed, with scars very similar to his, with all those things you hated about yourself. was that how you felt about him? if it had not been for the pain in his whole body he would have fallen off the bed on his knees in front of you.

he huffed a laugh and rolled his eyes once you started swaying your hips from side to side while you slid your underwear down your legs. you laughed too, you felt stupid, but at least you had managed to make him smile. you two weren't the type to do those things, things were always more animalistic, more passionate, rougher. you walked towards him and leaned in to kiss him as your hands worked on the zipper of his jeans.

—you're beautiful —. he whispered.

logan helped you to straddle him again. you held your body over his thanks to your knees on the bed. with one hand you grabbed his hard cock resting impatiently against his stomach. he gasped because of your firm grip and squeezed your hips when you lined it up against your aching entrance.

you lowered yourself just enough for his tip to go in. he let out a deep grunt straight from his chest, you let out all the air you had in your lungs in a moan. you never forgot how big he was, the thickness of his cock, the patch of hair on its base, and the veins running along his shaft, but you did forget about the way it stretched you open, about the sting that his dick going deeper inside you caused.

—careful —. logan mumbled against your lips.

you kept taking him, closing your eyes shut and biting your lower lip, hissing every time you took a centimeter more inside of you. you rested your forehead against his and whined when his cock finally bottomed you. —i need a moment.

logan nodded. one of your hands sneaked in between your bodies and found your clit while his hands lovingly caressed your back. it had been so long since you had sex. logan wouldn't let you touch him, he was disgusted by his own body and he was afraid that you would see him the way he saw himself. that's why that night you decided that you would make him feel so good that he would never doubt the way you felt about him or his body.

you started by slowly rolling your hips as your fingers worked on your clit. his jaw tightened while he felt your body moving with his whole cock inside. his big hands on your hips helped you to move, setting a pace and keeping you from going faster so you wouldn't hurt yourself.

—that's it, take your time —. he said. young logan wouldn't have given you a second to get used to it, he would have fucked you mercilessly and you would have loved every second of it. but now, his eyes were focused on where your bodies became one, enjoying how your pussy adjusted to his size thanks to your fingers rubbing your clit.

he moaned once you lifted your body just a little and then dropped back onto him. you wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed his lips while you repeated that same move again and again. your cries and his moans mixed in your mouths. all his body jerked every time you lifted yourself a bit more and then sucked his cock completely inside you again.

—you make me feel so good, logan. always have, fuck—. you purred in his ear. his hands, previously resting on your hips, slid all the way to your ass your hands and squeezed it. in those little details you could see how he was gaining confidence, which encouraged you to keep moving without changing your pace. it was slow, passionate, intense and intimate.

between moans and cries, you kept worshiping him, telling him how much you had missed feeling him inside you, how your fingers were no comparison to his cock, how you didn't want to share these moments with anyone other than him. there was no one like him. you didn't care about his scars, his moodiness, the gray of his hair, there would never be another one for you but logan, you did not want another one.

you were close, he could feel it in the way your walls were squeezing his cock and he knew he wouldn't last longer. logan wrapped his arms around your body, pressing you against his hard chest, and your fingers knotted into his hair. he groaned, your little jumps became irregular, your legs began to shake. logan hugged you tighter and sunk his teeth into your shoulder, getting a little choked cry from you.

—cum inside me, lo. fill me up, please, i need it. let me have it, please.

oh god, your words were driving him insane and after how well you had treated him, who was he to deny your wishes?

logan held your body down on his cock as he came, hugging you tighter against him. you buried your head into the crook of his neck, moaning into his skin while your legs shook and your pussy clenched around him. it was too much. as he released himself inside you, his claws came out and trapped you between them and logan's body, you had no escape. he groaned when he felt the pain of the adamantium ripping the skin off his knuckles mixed with all the pleasure of cumming inside you.

—shit —. he immediately put the claws away when he realized. —i haven't hurt you, have i?

you shook your head, still coming down from your high. he exhaled with relief. once you had caught your breath, you straightened your back, still sitting on his lap and feeling his cock getting soft inside you. you brought his hands to the front.

—are you okay? that probably hurt —. you caressed his knuckles.

—felt too good to even think about it.

you smiled proudly and kissed him. when you broke away, he noticed the mark of his teeth on the skin of your shoulder. —'m so sorry, fuck.

—don't be. i wish you had bitten me harder.

he shook his head, keeping himself from laughing. —you're a freak.

[rqnarok]

summary: dark!old man!logan would do anything for the sake of you going back into his arms. 

cws/tags: smut, mdni! old man!logan. obsessive behavior. fem!reader. logan calls himself ‘old man’. pet names. unspecified age gap. unstable power dynamic. crying. soft dom!logan. sub!reader. not proofread. 

You’re not sure if you can even call him your ‘ex.’ 

The both of you never had the ‘talk’, and never did have any middle ground stating what kind of relationship this is. 

Logan’s way older than you - way more mature - “Need t’be fucked by a real man, ‘s that it, baby?” way more experienced. 

No matter how heated the night before, Logan still turns everything cold with his aloofness - and you - you never feel brave enough to speak up against it. 

With a heavy heart and numerous self-loathing sessions, you concluded that it was time to let him go - convincing yourself you deserve someone more. Someone you’d be comfortable with to ask for something more. 

And you did, well, that’s what you tell yourself as you busied yourself with everything else. Withdrawing from him little by little, texting him things such as  ‘Can’t meet you today, sorry’ or ‘Something else came up..’ to avoid ending up on his sheets.

Logan’s not stupid. He may be old, a fucking hundred years old something but he’s not dumb. He knows what you’re doing. 

Reading the texts you sent him, he’d grumble curse words under his breaths before tugging off his glasses in a harsh movement. 

He just didn’t think you’d last so long dodging him. Logan expected you to give up on the first day of the second week—he was wrong because it’s been a month, damnit.

Sometime during the unlabeled relationship that went on for almost a year already, you put Logan’s number on the list as your ‘alternative’ contact, making people ring his number when yours is not answering.

And Logan always answers your phone calls. He’d justify himself that it’s merely a habit that he’s still trying to break, but truthfully it’s to make sure you’re hanging out with the ‘right people.’ 

Logan fucking hates it when he’s hearing a guy’s voice on the other line—toughens himself to respond, lowering his voice and curting his answers. He’ll let them know you’re busy. 

In the second month, you run back into Logan in desperation. 

Your eyes are all puffy from crying because your last date was such a prick! He called you nasty-horrible-sickening names before erasing your number off his phone for no reason. 

Logan opens his arms to welcome your hiccuping figure standing before him. Shushing you down and rubbing circles on your back - telling you to tell him who hurted you. 

This dependency you hold on him makes his cock twitch. That he’s right: you still seek him out no matter how long it takes. 

You don’t even notice how bad it gets—that’s the best thing. You never learn, huh?

That’s alright - because he’ll try for real this time. Groans out praises after praises to you, “What’s that, baby? Y’feel good?” Logan jeers overhead, holding himself over you with his hand gripping onto the headboard, “Too good?” He chuckles as his other hand thumbs on your puffy button.

His rough fingers pad up your clit, sending electricity throughout your body. Making you writhe underneath him and Logan scolds you in the softest way he can, “Stay still f’me, will ya?” 

You can’t answer. You can’t even speak outside of high-pitched whines, a mess of your own saliva drips until it reaches your chin. Your whole body is finally sticky after it’s been cold for weeks. His fat cock driving onto his home over and over, better than anything you’ve ever felt before.

“Yeah, y’just need your old man, hm? No one else can t‘care of this pussy like I do, sweetheart.”

He maliciously slows down his movement to watch his length entering your wet folds, humming at the vulgar squelching sound, “Come take a look a’her, baby. She’s squeezing me in - misses me so much.” 

The sight of him is trouble, messy greying hair and beard; chest full of scars. Everything you should’ve stayed away from.

”Yeayeahyea- Missed you so m-much. Ah-” 

But you cannot think when he’s holding you like this - when he angles himself so his tip is continuously hitting against that spongy spot inside you that makes your body weak. 

A string of ah ah ahs are leaving your mouth as he growls next to your face. “‘M cumming —”

His head falls back as he feels how your dripping pussy milks him dry, instantly following after as he buries himself deeper to make sure none of his cum drips out, “F-fuck. Good fuckin’ girl.” 

When he’s finished, Logan falls atop you in tiredness before rolling himself slightly to the side so he doesn’t suffocate you with his weight. Pampering your tear-flushed cheeks with slow kisses - the feel of his beard burning onto your skin like a streak of fire.

“C’meback, sweet girl.” He whispers in a quiet voice, hoping you’d give in completely. 

And you do - you always do.

Moments later, he’d have you resting on his chest, fingers combing through your hair to calm you down from the noises inside your head.

You don’t have to know that he was the one who drove your date away. 

It’s a mistake that the boy called Logan’s number because he was so impatient to hear back from you. A goddamn mistake. 

Because of that, Logan became aware of his existence and tracks him down. Threatens the other guy to stay the fuck away from you. 

Poor guy almost pissed his pants in fright. Running away scared shitless after Logan let go of his collar. 

Logan doesn’t know when exactly he turned into this wild animal. A sick old fuck who’d do anything to keep you in his embrace. 

Why does it matter? Everything is in its right place now. He’ll make sure you’d never have to know about the things he’d do for you.

[running-with-kn1ves]

Satin Pillows To Cry On

CW: coercion with money, age gap(7 yrs), transactional marriage, obsessive/yandere behavior

gn! reader

﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀

You’ve got nothing else, no one else to rely on. 

‘You’re something he bought to keep from growing old.” 

Your clothes are worth small countries. Your cars stacked in 3-level garages. Diamonds, emeralds, pearls hanging from your wrists and ears, satchels made of endangered animal skins, different shoes for each day of the year. 

Your boyfriend of three years spat at your feet when you told him what you were doing. 

“His money can’t love you, not like I can.”

The wedding was only two months away when you broke up with him, told him you couldn’t live in his broke-down apartment anymore, that you couldn’t live with debt trailing wherever you went. You went so far as to make him hate you, to tell him that you never wanted to see him again, that you never loved him, that he better not bother showing up to the wedding. You didn’t want him there, you never wanted to see him again. 

“You’re lying to me; he’s making you say these things, he’s using you against me! You’ve known him what-- two seconds, and you’re going to marry this man?! He’s nearly a decade older than you!” 

Seven years of an age gap or not, he was still a thousand times more independent, wealthy, and a safer choice than your boyfriend. You weren’t some fresh college student new to the world, you had graduated over two years ago, still finding no luck in getting a stable income-- forget about whether or not it was in the field of your degree. 

You left in a single day, fitting all of your scavanged belongings into one of your fiance’s awaiting cars. You left anything worth of value with your ex-boyfriend, knowing he’d find more use out of it than you would. You would even leave the rest of your things there if he could find use for them, but you knew they’d just be one more painful reminder of your betrayal. 

He did as you said, not showing up to your wedding, staying clear, never appearing in your line of sight since the day you left. It made it easier…. For both of you that way. 

And now you were happy-- well, maybe not happy, maybe not even content, but you were… safe. You had everything you needed: a working car, a stable job that you felt productive in, a clean and comforting house to come home to, a spouse. Sure, maybe you didn’t get your new job yourself, or your house or your car-- but did that really matter, in this economy? Who wouldn’t trade their life and their independence for this kind of wealth?

And your husband… he wasn’t all bad. He might have only wanted you for the sake of having you at first, like a new jewel or the latest technological invention. But he was doting and caring in his own way. Maybe just a tiny bit too invested in you, in your schedule and who you talked to. A little too hateful towards your ex-boyfriend, the one who had you before he could. But everyone had character flaws, and on good days you could distract him from his grumpy mood and stress and obsessive behaviors by being the loving and oh so perfect spouse you had trained yourself to be ever since he asked to marry you. 

“Colder than all that gold…” You repeated in your mind, the words your family whispered to each other at your wedding reception only a few feet away from you. 

That was over six months now, though… the honeymoon phase never existed, you rarely saw your husband except for his midnight appearances back from the office, and whenever he would whisk you away for a weekend vacation to savor the time he had with you. For someone more sophisticated, much wealthier, and dare you say handsomer than the average man-- you were surprised to find he didn’t have a line of divorces behind him. 

No; he said, he had been “waiting for you.” whether  you or he knew it, he understood right from the moment of meeting you that you were the one he’d have for the rest of his life, even if it killed him. That severity… scared you. But in a sick sense, it made you feel relieved. Forever? This could be yours, forever? Your family would never have to struggle again, you would never have to worry where your next meal came from?

“I cleared your schedule until tuesday; we’re going to the isles. A mini vacation, you might call it. Get your things.”

He was cold, that was for sure. But, was he any worse than your ex-boyfriend, especially when he was offering you an expensive experience on top of that?

“All right..” You acquiesced. 

And now, you lied sunken into the bed feeling his loving, hot breath on your navel. Going so sweetly slow, so oddly and uncharacteristingly lingering with his touches as he gazes into your eyes. You didn’t like this; didn’t like that when he was cherishing you, making love to you, holding you so intimately, he was appearing… like a husband should. Where did he get the nerve to ignore you everyday, to have hardly any time for you, only to come back and beg for your love when it was convenient for him? 

But you keep your mouth shut, like you should, if you want to keep eating breakfast in bed, keep wearing silk robes while watching the view of the ocean outside your window.

“So beautiful…you’re like a work of art, the kind no amount of money can buy.” 

That was funny, hilarious even. Enough so to make you cry. 

A familiar face passes by the slightly ajar door to distract you, likely one of the housekeepers leaving for the night. But you swear the man’s figure reminds you of someone from your past, someone you loved and left for good. 

Your husband brings back your attention by placing a gentle kiss to your temple, blindly undoing the clasp of the necklace he bought you.

“I’m so lucky… so lucky to have been the one to catch you, forever. No one could’ve done it, not without what I have.”

He wanted you to kiss and caress back, but sometimes lying still was just enough. It was enough for him to witness you, basking in the glow of everything you wore from him, lying in the Egyptian cotton sheets he paid extra for, your body molded to the diet his personal chefs cooked. 

Even as he pushed a knee between your legs, traveling from your navel to your stomach with open-mouthed sucks and kisses in the rawest form of affection, you couldn’t help but turn your face deep into the pillow. So soft, the soft purple shielding your eyes from his tender gaze.

You might’ve given up love, given up everything familiar and those who you’ve cared for-- but at least you had satin pillows to cry on, and the finest jewelry to wipe your tears with. 

[starskq]

TREAT YOU BETTER / C.S

Pairing ◊ sub!fem!reader x softdom!san (ft. Yeonjun of TXT)

Genre ◊ SMUT, fluff, angst, best friends to lovers

Warnings ◊ SMUT (MINORS DNI), softdom!San, sub!reader, oral (male receiving), fingering, a little rough, san is quite big, dirty talk, pet names (baby, sweetheart...), talk about an abusive relationship, emotional vulnerability, aftercare, unprotected sex (if you see anything I haven't put in there, please lmk!)

Word count ◊ 7,2k

Summary ◊ You show up in the middle of the night at San's apartment after your bf Yeonjun broke up with you, but what you do not know is how San is so unconditionally in love with you.

a/n: I portrayed Yeonjun in a certain way here, but don't come for me! I'm a MOA too!

You and San had been best friends for as long as you could remember. Growing up together, sharing secrets and dreams, it was no surprise that you felt entirely at home in his company. San's presence had always been a constant, a comforting backdrop to your life. However, what you hadn't noticed was the way his eyes lingered on you, the way his smile softened when you laughed. He had fallen for you long ago, but he never had the courage to admit it—not to himself, and certainly not to anyone else.

Meanwhile, you had been dating Yeonjun for a few months. At first, everything seemed perfect. He was charming, attentive, and everything you thought you wanted. But as time went on, Yeonjun's true colors began to show. He treated you poorly, his words often harsh and his actions thoughtless. Despite the growing cracks in your relationship, you clung to the hope that things would get better. They never did.

One Friday night, after a particularly brutal argument, Yeonjun broke up with you. His words were cruel, his tone biting, and you were left feeling utterly shattered. Unable to face the emptiness of your apartment, you found yourself standing outside San's door at midnight, your face wet with tears. 

You gently knocked at his door and San opened the door, his eyes widening in shock when he saw you. ‘’Y/n? What happened?" he asked, his voice filled with concern.

You tried to speak, but the words caught in your throat. Instead, you just shook your head, tears streaming down your face. He was quick to take you in his arms, enveloping you in a warm hug before guiding you to his couch. 

"Talk to me," he urged softly, sitting beside you.

You took a deep breath, struggling to find your voice. "Yeonjun... he broke up with me," you finally managed to say, your voice trembling. "We had an awful fight. He was so mean.’’

San's eyes darkened with anger. "That bastard. What did he say to you?’’

You shook your head again, not wanting to recount the hurtful words. "It doesn't matter. I just... I couldn't stay there.’’

San clenched his fists, the muscles in his jaw tightening. "I want to go over there and beat him up. He has no right to treat you like this.’’

"No, San," you said quickly, placing a hand on his arm. "Please don't. It's not worth it. I just need you right now.’’

His expression softened instantly. "Okay. I'm here for you," he promised, wrapping his arms around you in a comforting embrace. You buried your face in his chest, feeling the warmth and safety of his presence. He stroked your hair gently, whispering soothing words.

"You deserve so much better," he murmured. "Yeonjun is an idiot for letting you go.’’

You pulled back slightly, looking up at him through tear-filled eyes. "Do you really think so?’’

"I know so," San replied firmly. "You're amazing, and anyone would be lucky to have you.’’

A small smile tugged at your lips despite the pain. "Thank you, San. You're the best friend anyone could ask for.’’

San's heart ached at your words, but he forced a smile. "Anything for you," he said softly. He wished he could tell you how he really felt, how much he loved you, but he didn't want to risk losing your friendship.

San watched as you tried to find comfort on the couch. He hated seeing you like this, so broken and vulnerable. Determined to lift your spirits, even if just a little, he pulled the blanket around you more snugly.

"Hey," he said softly, brushing a strand of hair from your face. "How about we try to take your mind off things for a bit?’’’

You sniffled, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand. ‘’How?’’

San thought for a moment, then smiled. "Remember that time in middle school when we tried to bake a cake for your mom's birthday and ended up setting off the fire alarm?’’

You couldn't help but chuckle at the memory. "Yeah, and the cake was half-burnt, half-raw.’’

"Exactly! And your mom still said it was the best cake she'd ever had because we made it with 'extra love and a dash of chaos,'" San added, grinning.

A small smile played on your lips. "She was always so supportive.’’

San nodded, his eyes twinkling. "She still is. Just like you have so many people who care about you.’’

You sighed, leaning against him. "It's just hard, you know? I really thought Yeonjun was different.’’

"I know," San said, his voice gentle. "But sometimes people aren't who we hope they are. And that���s not your fault.’’ He wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer. "You deserve someone who sees how amazing you are and treats you with the love and respect you deserve.’’

You rested your head on his shoulder, feeling a bit of the tension leave your body. "Thanks, Sannie. I don't know what I'd do without you.’’’

He squeezed your shoulder. "You'd do just fine. You're strong, even if you don't always feel like it.’’

For the next hour, San kept talking, sharing funny stories from childhood and moments that made you both laugh until your sides hurt. He reminded you of the time he tried to impress you by jumping off the highest diving board at the pool, only to belly-flop spectacularly. Or the time you both got lost during a school trip and ended up finding a hidden ice cream parlor that became your secret spot.

"Remember when we made that secret handshake?" he asked, his eyes bright with amusement.

You nodded, a real smile breaking through. "We thought we were so cool.’’

"We were cool," he insisted, demonstrating the complex series of claps and snaps you had created. "We still are.’’

You laughed, following along with the handshake. It felt good to laugh, even if just for a moment. San's presence was like a balm to your wounded heart, his affection and kindness wrapping around you like a warm blanket.

The night wore on, and though the pain of Yeonjun's words still lingered, it was dulled by San's unwavering support. He stayed by your side, talking and laughing. 

San, ever attentive, noticed how your eyes struggled to stay open.

"You look exhausted," he said softly, his hand still gently rubbing your back. ‘’You wanna stay over? You could take my bed.’’

You nodded, stifling a yawn. "I am, but I don't want to take your bed from you. I can sleep on the couch, it’s fine »

San shook his head, his expression firm. "No way. You need a proper bed to sleep in, and you're not arguing with me on this.’’ You tried to protest, but he held up a hand, silencing you. "I insist. Come on, let's get you settled."

He stood up and offered you his hand, helping you to your feet. You were honestly too tired to argue with him, you knew how stubborn he could be. As you reached his bedroom, he pulled back the covers and motioned for you to enter. You hesitated, looking at him with a mixture of gratitude and guilt.

"You sure?" you asked, your voice small.

"Positive," he replied firmly. "Now, get in."

You slid into the bed, the soft sheets feeling like a haven after the emotional turmoil of the night. San tucked the blanket around you, his movements gentle and caring.

"Do you need anything else?" he asked, his voice low and soothing.

You shook your head, a small smile tugging at your lips. "No, this is perfect. Thank you, San."

He nodded, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. "You're welcome. Try to get some rest, okay? I'll be right outside if you need anything."

You reached out and grabbed his hand, squeezing it lightly. "You're really the best, you know that?"

San's smile was soft, his eyes filled with unspoken emotions. "I just want you to be okay. Sleep well."

With that, he turned and left the room, closing the door quietly behind him. You listened to his footsteps as he walked back to the living room, your heart was fluttering. He was just so affectionate and caring. 

San settled onto the couch, pulling the blanket over himself. The couch was familiar, a place he'd often crashed after late-night gaming sessions or movie marathons. But tonight, it felt different. Tonight, he was acutely aware of you in his bed, just a room away, and the vulnerability you'd shown him.

San lay on the couch, staring at the ceiling, unable to find any semblance of sleep. Every time he closed his eyes, images of you crying and hurt flashed through his mind. He was consumed by a mix of anger and helplessness, hating Yeonjun for what he'd done to you.

He tossed and turned, trying to find a comfortable position, but nothing seemed to work. His mind was too restless, his heart too full of unresolved emotions. He glanced at the clock—2:30 AM. With a frustrated sigh, he sat up, running a hand through his hair.

In the quiet of the living room, the sudden sound of a notification startled him. He looked over and saw your phone on the coffee table, its screen glowing with a new message. Curiosity and concern got the better of him, and he leaned over to see who it was.

It was a message from Yeonjun.

San's jaw clenched as he read the words on the screen:

[Junnie] I hope you're happy. You always find a way to make everything my fault. Good luck with this one.

San felt a surge of anger so intense it made his hands shake. He couldn't believe the audacity of Yeonjun to send such a cruel message after everything he'd put you through. It took every ounce of self-control not to grab his keys and march over to Yeonjun's place right then and there.

Instead, he took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. He knew that confronting Yeonjun wouldn't help you right now. You needed him here, not out picking a fight. But he couldn't just ignore the message either. He needed to find a way to protect and shield you from more pain.

He stared at your phone, contemplating whether to wake you up and tell you about the message. But you had finally found some peace, and he didn't want to disturb that. Instead, he decided to keep an eye on your phone for any more messages, ensuring nothing else would upset you tonight.

San stood up, pacing the living room, his mind racing. He needed to focus on something else, anything to keep from stewing in his anger. He went to the kitchen and made himself a cup of chamomile tea, hoping it might help him relax. As he waited for the water to boil, he replayed the night's events in his mind.

"Why can't he just leave her alone?" San muttered to himself, pouring the hot water over the tea bag. "Hasn't he done enough damage?"

He took a sip of the tea, its warmth doing little to soothe his frayed nerves. He wished he could do more for you, wished he could take away all the hurt and replace it with happiness. But he knew that healing took time, and all he could do was be there for you every step of the way.

San returned to the couch, setting the tea on the coffee table. He picked up your phone again, staring at Yeonjun's message. Without thinking, he typed out a reply:

[You] She deserves better than you. Leave her alone.

But he didn't send it. He deleted the message, knowing it wasn't his place to intervene directly. Instead, he placed your phone back on the table and sat down, his head in his hands. He took a few deep breaths, trying to calm the storm of emotions swirling inside him.

Lost in thought, he nearly jumped when he heard the soft sound of your footsteps approaching. He turned to see you standing in the doorway, looking small and vulnerable in the dim light.

"Sannie, are you still awake?" you asked quietly, your voice tinged with uncertainty.

"Yeah, I'm awake," he replied, his heart softening as he looked at you. "What's wrong? Do you need something?"

You hesitated, glancing down at your feet before meeting his eyes. "I... I don't want to be alone right now. Can you... can you come to bed with me?"

San's heart skipped a beat. You and he had shared a bed before, back in the days when sleepovers and movie marathons ended with both of you crashing wherever you could. But this felt different, more intimate. He could feel his emotions bubbling up, threatening to spill over.

He took a deep breath, pushing his feelings aside. This wasn't about him; it was about you needing comfort. "Of course," he said gently. "I'll be right there."

You gave him a small, grateful smile, and he followed you back to the bedroom. The room was filled with a soft, calming silence,.

San watched as you climbed back into bed, settling under the blankets. He hesitated momentarily before joining you, lying down on the other side. The bed dipped slightly under his weight, and he turned to face you, his heart pounding in his chest.

"Are you comfortable?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nodded, looking at him with a mixture of relief and gratitude. "Yes, thank you. I just... I didn't want to be alone tonight."

"I understand," San said softly. "I'm here for you."

You reached out and took his hand, holding it tightly. The simple gesture sent a rush of warmth through him, and he squeezed your hand in return.

"Do you remember all those sleepovers we used to have?" you asked, your voice tinged with nostalgia.

San smiled, nodding. "Yeah, of course. We used to stay up all night talking and laughing."

You sighed contentedly. "Those were some of the best times. I always felt so safe with you."

San's heart ached with the weight of his unspoken feelings. "And you still are safe with me. Always."

For a moment, the room was silent, save for the gentle sound of your breathing. San struggled internally, fighting the urge to confess everything he felt. But he knew this wasn't the time. You needed comfort, not complications.

San lay there, the steady rhythm of your breathing filling the room. He tried to calm his racing thoughts, but it was nearly impossible with you so close to him. The familiar warmth of your body pressed against his was something he had experienced countless times before, yet tonight it felt different—intensely different.

Every breath you took, every slight movement you made, seemed to send sparks of awareness through him. He could feel the rise and fall of your chest against his side, your head resting on his shoulder, and it was driving him to distraction. He knew it was wrong to feel this way, especially now, but he couldn't help it. The closeness, the intimacy of the moment, was turning him on in a way he hadn't expected.

He tried to shift slightly, hoping to ease the tension in his body, but it only seemed to make things worse. You stirred, tightening your grip on his hand and snuggling closer. San's heart pounded in his chest, and he swallowed hard, trying to steady his breathing.

"San?" you murmured sleepily, your voice a soft whisper in the darkness.

"Yeah?" he replied, his voice tight with the effort of keeping his emotions in check.

"Are you okay?" you asked, concern evident even through your drowsiness.

San forced a smile, even though you couldn't see it. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just... a lot on my mind."

You shifted slightly, your leg brushing against his. The sensation sent a jolt of electricity through him, and he had to bite his lip to stifle a groan. "You can talk to me, you know. I'm here for you, too."

He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. "I know. It's just... it's nothing. Really."

You were quiet for a moment, your fingers gently tracing patterns on the back of his hand. As you drifted back into sleep, San lay there, his body tense and his mind racing. He couldn't understand why he felt so different this time. You had always been affectionate with each other, cuddling during movie nights or sleepovers, but tonight, the feeling was overwhelming.

He tried to distract himself, focusing on the sound of the rain tapping gently against the window, but his thoughts kept drifting back to you. The way your hair felt against his cheek, the warmth of your breath on his neck, the soft curves of your body nestled against his.

"Get a grip, San," he muttered to himself, trying to push the thoughts away. "This isn't the time."

But the more he tried to ignore it, the more aware he became of every tiny detail. The subtle scent of your shampoo, the softness of your skin, the way you fit perfectly against him. It was driving him crazy, and he didn't know how much longer he could take it.

You shifted, turning your back to him. For a brief moment, he thought the change in position might help him regain some control over his tumultuous emotions. But then you moved closer, pressing your back firmly against his chest. Instinctively, he wrapped his arm around you, his hand resting gently on your stomach.

The intimacy of the position made his heart pound. Your body was so close, so warm, and he could feel every curve pressed against him. His mind raced, and he struggled to keep his breathing steady.

You sighed contentedly, snuggling closer. The movement pressed your body even tighter against his, and he felt a surge of heat rush through him. His mind screamed at him to keep it together, but the sensation of your curves against his chest, the softness of your body, was making it incredibly difficult. He could feel himself getting harder and harder. 

He closed his eyes, trying to focus on anything but the feel of you in his arms. He thought about the cold night air, the sound of the rain outside, anything to distract himself from the intoxicating closeness. But every time you shifted slightly, it sent another wave of awareness through him.

As you continued to shift and wiggle, seeking a comfortable position, it became increasingly difficult. Each movement pressed your body closer against him, and he could feel every curve, every contour, of your form against his. It was driving him mad.

You shifted again, your back pressing firmly against his chest, your hips moving slightly. San's breath hitched, and despite his best efforts, he felt himself getting harder. He clenched his jaw, trying to will away the arousal, but it was no use. Your absent-minded movements were too much for him to handle.

‘’Y/n, please stop moving,’’ he whispered hoarsely, his voice strained with the effort of keeping control.

You froze, the sudden tension in his voice startling you. Then you felt it—a hard, undeniable pressure against your lower back. Your eyes widened as realization dawned.

"San..." you whispered, turning your head slightly to look at him over your shoulder. "Is that...?"

San's face flushed with embarrassment. ‘’Fuck, I'm sorry," he stammered, his voice barely audible. "I didn't mean for this to happen."

You could see the discomfort and shame in his eyes, and something inside you shifted. You felt a surge of confidence, an unexpected boldness. You turned fully to face him, your heart pounding. Without saying a word, you reached down and placed your hand over his hardness, feeling the heat and firmness through the fabric.

San's breath caught in his throat, his eyes widening in shock. ‘’Y/n, what are you doing?" he asked, his voice barely more than a whisper.

You met his gaze, your own eyes filled with a mix of determination and desire. "I want this too," you said softly, your hand gently squeezing him through his pants.

San's heart raced, but he hesitated, his mind racing with conflicting emotions. "You don't have to," he said, his voice strained. "I don't want you to feel pressured or like you owe me anything. Especially not after everything with Yeonjun."

You shook your head, your eyes softening. "San, I want this. I want you."

He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. "But I feel like I'm taking advantage of you. You're vulnerable right now, and I don't want to be another person who hurts you."

You looked at him, your expression serious. "San, you could never hurt me. The real reason Yeonjun and I broke up... it was because of you."

San's eyes widened in shock. "What do you mean?"

You sighed, feeling a weight lift as you prepared to share the truth. "Yeonjun was always jealous of our relationship. He couldn't understand how important you are to me. Last night, he asked me to choose between him and you.’’

San's heart skipped a beat. "And you chose me?"

"Without hesitation," you said firmly. "He couldn't accept that. He accused me of loving you more than him, and honestly, he was right. I do love you more."

San stared at you, a mix of emotions swirling in his eyes. "I had no idea," he whispered. "I never wanted to come between you two."

"You didn't," you replied, your voice steady. "Yeonjun did that himself. And when he forced me to choose, it made me realize just how much you mean to me."

San's heart ached with the weight of your words. "I never wanted to admit it, but I've always loved you," he confessed, his voice trembling. "But I was afraid of ruining our friendship."

You smiled, your eyes shining with tears. "You could never ruin it, San. You've always been there for me, through everything. And now, I want to be here for you."

San felt a surge of emotion, a mix of relief, joy, and overwhelming love. He reached out, cupping your face in his hands, his touch tender. "I love you," he said, his voice filled with sincerity and passion.

"I love you too," you replied, your voice a whisper.

He leaned in slowly, giving you time to pull away if you wanted to. When you didn't, he pressed his lips to yours in a tender, lingering kiss. The sensation was electric, sending shivers down your spine. His lips were soft yet firm, moving against yours with a careful, loving precision. It was a kiss filled with years of pent-up emotions, a kiss that spoke of friendship, love, and unspoken desires.

San's hand moved to the back of your neck, deepening the kiss slightly. You could feel his breath mixing with yours, the warmth of his body so close to yours. Every touch, every movement was deliberate, as if he were memorizing the feel of you.

As the kiss continued, it grew more intense. The emotions that had been building up inside both of you for so long now found their release. His kisses became more urgent, his lips moving against yours with a newfound hunger. He tilted his head to gain better access, his tongue slipping out to gently trace your lower lip before seeking entrance.

You parted your lips, allowing him in, and a soft moan escaped from deep within your throat. The kiss was no longer just an expression of love but a claim. San's tongue explored your mouth, tasting and teasing, and you responded with equal fervor, meeting his passion with your own.

San's hands began to roam your body, his touch both gentle and possessive. He ran his fingers down your sides, feeling the curves of your waist and hips. His hands slid under your shirt, the warmth of his palms against your skin sending sparks of desire through you.

"God, you're so beautiful," he murmured against your lips, his voice filled with awe. 

He shifted, hovering over you, his body pressing you gently into the mattress. The weight of him felt comforting and exciting all at once. He broke the kiss just long enough to pull your shirt over your head, his eyes dark with desire as he took in the sight of you.

"So perfect," he whispered, his voice husky. "You're perfect, baby."

You shivered at the pet name, feeling a rush of warmth spread through you. "San," you breathed, your hands tangling in his hair, pulling him back down for another kiss.

This kiss was even more heated, filled with an urgency that left you both breathless. San's hands roamed freely now, exploring every inch of your body with a mix of tenderness and possession. He cupped your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your nipples, drawing a gasp from your lips.

"Does that feel good, sweetheart?" he asked, his voice low and rough with desire.

"Yes," you moaned, arching into his touch. "So good, Sannie."

He smiled against your lips, pleased with your response. "I want to make you feel amazing," he murmured, kissing a trail down your neck. "You deserve to be worshipped.’’

San's kisses trailed down your body, his lips and tongue leaving a path of fire in their wake. He paused at your breasts, taking each nipple into his mouth, sucking and licking until you were writhing beneath him, your breath coming in ragged gasps.

"San, please," you begged, your voice a mix of need and desperation.

He looked up at you, his eyes blazing with passion. "Please what, baby? Tell me what you want."

"I want you," you whispered, your voice trembling with desire. "I need you."

But he couldn’t give it to you right away. He knew he had to prepare you to ensure you were ready for him. He wanted this to be perfect for you.

He looked down at you. "I need to get you ready for me," he murmured, his voice husky. "I don't want to hurt you."

You nodded, your breath coming in shallow gasps. He kissed you again, his lips trailing down your neck and across your collarbone. He moved lower, kissing a path between your breasts and down your stomach, savoring the taste of your skin. When he reached the juncture of your thighs, he paused, looking up at you with a mix of tenderness and hunger.

"You're so beautiful," he said softly, his fingers gently parting your folds. "I want to make you feel so good."

His touch was gentle at first, his fingers exploring your cunt with a tenderness that sent shivers through your body. He found your clit, circling it with his thumb while his fingers teased your entrance. You gasped, your hips lifting off the bed as he touched you.

"Sannie," you moaned, your voice a breathless plea.

He smiled, pleased by your response. "Let me hear you."

Slowly, he slid one finger inside you, feeling the warmth and tightness of your body. You moaned softly, your body arching into his touch. He moved his finger in and out, his thumb still circling your clit, and watched as your eyes fluttered closed in pleasure.

"Does that feel good?" he asked, his voice rough with desire.

‘’Fuck,yes,’’ you gasped, your hands gripping the sheets. "So good, San."

Encouraged by your response, he added a second finger, stretching you gently. The sensation was intense, and you cried out, your hips rocking against his hand. San's eyes darkened with lust, and he leaned down to capture your lips in a searing kiss.

"You're so tight,’’  he murmured against your lips. "So perfect for me."

You whimpered, the pleasure building inside you with every movement of his fingers. "San, please," you begged, your voice a desperate whisper.

He groaned, the sound of your need driving him wild. "I love hearing you beg, baby," he said, his fingers thrusting deeper. "I could do this all night."

Every sound you made seemed to intoxicate him, fueling his desire to pleasure you. He curled his fingers inside you, hitting that sweet spot that made you see stars. You cried out his name, your body trembling with the intensity of the sensations.

"That's it," he urged, his voice low and commanding. "Come for me, sweetheart. I want to feel you."

You were so close, the pleasure coiling tight in your belly. With a final, deep thrust of his fingers, you shattered, your orgasm washing over you in powerful waves. You cried out, your body arching off the bed as you clung to him.

San watched you, his eyes filled with awe and desire. "You're so beautiful when you come," he murmured, his fingers still moving inside you, drawing out every last bit of your pleasure.

He slowly withdrew his fingers from you, his eyes dark with desire as he brought them to his lips. He tasted you on his fingers, his eyelids fluttering shut and a deep, satisfied groan escaping from his throat.

"God, you taste so good," he murmured, his voice rough with lust. His eyes rolled back in his head for a moment, lost in the intoxicating flavor of you. "I could get addicted to this."

Your cheeks flushed with heat at his words, but your own desire was just as intense. With a newfound boldness, you reached down and gently wrapped your hand around his hardness, inside his sweatpants, feeling the heat and firmness of him through his sweatpants.

"I want to touch you," you whispered, your hand stroking him slowly. "I want to make you feel good too."

A shiver of pleasure ran through him at your touch, and he groaned, his hips instinctively thrusting into your hand. "You already do," he said, his voice strained. "But I won't stop you."

With trembling fingers, you tugged at the waistband of his sweatpants, and he helped you remove them, tossing them aside. You marveled at the sight of him, hard and ready for you. He was indeed pretty big. Slowly, you wrapped your hand around his length, stroking him gently.

San let out a deep, guttural moan, his eyes closing briefly as he savored the sensation. "Just like that, baby.’’

You watched his face, mesmerized by the expressions of pleasure that crossed it. The sight of him, so vulnerable and turned on by your touch, filled you with a heady mix of power and desire. You wanted to give him as much pleasure as he had given you.

You positioned yourself between his legs, feeling a mix of nervousness and excitement. You looked up at him, your eyes meeting his, and he smiled down at you, his gaze filled with love and encouragement.

Slowly, you leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to the tip of his length, tasting the salty tang of his arousal. San's breath hitched, and he let out a deep moan, his hands gripping the sheets. You took him into your mouth, your tongue swirling around the tip before sliding down his shaft. You started slowly, finding a rhythm that felt comfortable, your hand stroking the base as your mouth moved up and down.

San's reactions were immediate and intense. His hips bucked slightly, and he let out a series of deep, guttural moans, his hands tangling in your hair. "Fuck, that feels so good," he groaned, his voice thick with pleasure.

You felt a surge of confidence at his praise, and you took him deeper, your mouth and hand working together to bring him pleasure. The sounds he made, the way his body responded to your touch, it all fueled your desire to please him.

"Yes, just like that," San panted, his voice low and rough. "You're so perfect, baby. So good to me."

You continued, the pace of your movements increasing as you sensed his pleasure building. His moans grew louder, his hips thrusting up to meet your mouth. You could feel him getting closer, his body tensing with anticipation.

"I'm close," he warned, his voice strained. "So close, baby."

You looked up at him with doe eyes, your eyes meeting his, and you could see the raw desire and love in his gaze. You wanted to take him over the edge, to make him feel as good as he had made you feel. With a final, deep movement, you took him fully into your mouth, your tongue swirling around him.

San let out a deep, shuddering groan, his hands tightening in your hair as he came, his release filling your mouth. You swallowed, savoring the taste of him, and continued to move until he was spent.

Slowly, you pulled back, your eyes meeting his. He looked down at you with a mixture of awe and love, his chest rising and falling with deep, ragged breaths. Without giving you timr to register what was happening, he picked you and pinned you underneath him once again. He positioned himself between your legs, his hardness pressing against your entrance. He paused for a moment, his eyes searching yours.

"Are you ready, love?" he asked, his voice husky with desire.

You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest. ‘’Yes, please, I need you.’’

With a groan, he began to enter you slowly, his eyes never leaving yours. The sensation was intense, your body stretching to accommodate his size. He was big, and you could feel every inch of him as he filled you completely. It was overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and a slight edge of pain that quickly turned into pure ecstasy.

"God, you're so tight," he murmured, his voice rough. "You feel so good, baby. So perfect."

He started to move, his rhythm steady but rough, each thrust deep and deliberate. The sensation was incredible, sending waves of pleasure through your body. You moaned, your hands gripping his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin.

‘’Fuck" you gasped, your voice filled with need.

"Let me hear you, baby," he groaned, his hips moving faster. "I want to hear every sound you make."

As he found his rhythm, his movements became rougher, more urgent. He thrust deeply, his hips driving into you with a force that made you cry out in pleasure. Each thrust hit a spot deep inside you, sending waves of ecstasy through your body.

You moaned loudly, your hands gripping the sheets as he pounded into you. The intensity of his movements, combined with the constant stream of praise and pet names, drove you wild. You screamed his name.

He reached down, his thumb finding your clit and rubbing it in time with his thrusts. The added stimulation pushed you over the edge, and you cried out his name as you came, your body shuddering with the force of your orgasm.

"That's it, baby," he murmured, his voice filled with satisfaction. "Come for me. I want to feel you."

He didn't stop, his thrusts becoming even more relentless as he chased his own release. The sensation of him moving inside you, combined with the aftershocks of your orgasm, was almost too much to bear. But it felt so good, so perfect.

"I need to hear you again," he groaned, his rhythm never faltering. "Come for me again, sweetheart. Let me feel you."

You moaned loudly, your body responding to his words and his touch. The pleasure built quickly, and you felt another orgasm rushing through you. "Sannie, I'm coming," you gasped, your body trembling with the intensity.

"Good girl," he growled, his thrusts becoming even rougher. "I love it when you come for me. You're so beautiful."

You cried out as you came again, the pleasure washing over you in powerful waves. San continued to thrust deeply, his own moans mixing with yours as he pushed you both to the brink.

He pulled out of you and flipped you, positioning you on your hands and knees. He groaned at the sight, his hands gripping your hips as he lined himself up and thrust deeply inside you again.

"God, yes," he moaned, his voice filled with lust. "You look so perfect like this."

He set a punishing rhythm, his hips driving into you with a force that made you cry out in pleasure. One hand was on your hip while the other was on your neck, pushing you towards him as he thrust powerfully. "You're mine," he growled, his voice thick with possession. "All mine."

"Yes, Sannie," you gasped, your body rocking with each thrust. "I'm yours. Always."

He reached around, his fingers finding your clit again and rubbing it in time with his thrusts. The pleasure was overwhelming, and you felt another orgasm building quickly. "San, I'm going to come," you moaned, your voice shaking with need.

"Do it," he commanded, his thrusts becoming even rougher. "Come for me, baby. I need to feel you."

You cried out his name as you came, your body shuddering with the intensity. San groaned loudly, his own release following quickly as he filled you with his warmth.

For a long moment, you both stayed like that, your bodies trembling with the aftershocks of pleasure. San slowly pulled out of you, collapsing beside you on the bed and pulling you into his arms.

"You're amazing," he murmured, his voice filled with awe and love. "So beautiful, so perfect."

You smiled, your heart swelling with love and contentment. "I love you, San," you whispered, your voice full of truth.

"I love you too," he replied, his eyes soft with emotion. "More than anything."

He kissed your forehead before slowly getting up from the bed, carefully pulling away from you. "Stay here, my love. I'll be right back," he said softly. You nodded, your body still tingling from the intensity of your lovemaking.

He returned a few moments later with a warm, damp cloth and a bottle of water. He climbed back onto the bed, gently spreading your legs and starting to clean you up. His touch was tender, every movement filled with care and love.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, his voice soft as he wiped you clean.

"I'm a bit sore," you admitted, your voice a mix of satisfaction and exhaustion.

San's eyes filled with concern, and he gently caressed your thigh. "I'm sorry, baby. I'll be gentler next time."

You shook your head, a small smile playing on your lips. "Please don't. I like it rough."

He paused, then a slow grin spread across his face. "Oh, you do, do you?" he teased, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "My little baby likes it rough, huh?"

You blushed, feeling a surge of warmth at his playful tone. You slowly nodded.

San chuckled, shaking his head in mock disbelief. "Well, I'll keep that in mind for next time," he said, leaning down to kiss you softly. "But I'll still make sure you're taken care of, no matter what."

After he finished cleaning you up, he pulled you into his arms, wrapping the blanket around both of you. He held you close, his hand gently stroking your back in soothing circles. The warmth of his body and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat were incredibly comforting.

"Are you okay?" he asked again, his voice filled with love and concern.

You nodded, feeling completely at ease in his embrace. "Yes, Sannie. I'm more than okay. I'm perfect."

He smiled, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Good. I want you to always feel perfect with me."

You nestled closer to him, your head resting on his chest. "I do, San. I always have."

love you too," you replied, your heart swelling with happiness.

For a while, you both lay there in comfortable silence, basking in the afterglow of your lovemaking and the deep connection you shared. San's fingers traced gentle patterns on your skin, his touch soothing and reassuring.

"Do you need anything else?" he asked softly, his voice a gentle murmur in the quiet room.

You shook your head, feeling completely content. "Just you," you said, your voice filled with love. "I just need you."

"You have me," he replied, his voice tender. "Always."

He continued to hold you, his presence a comforting anchor as you both began to drift off to sleep. The night had been intense, but the love and care San showed you in the aftermath made everything feel even more special.

As you drifted back to sleep, feeling safe and loved in San's arms, a soft buzzing sound interrupted the serene quiet of the room. San frowned, his protective instincts kicking in as he realized it was your phone on his bedside table. He gently eased out of your embrace, making sure not to wake you, and reached for the phone.

The screen displayed a message from Yeonjun.

[Junnie] Where are you? Who are you with?

San's jaw tightened with anger, but he decided to ignore the message. However, the phone buzzed again, another message from Yeonjun.

[Junnie] I know you're at San's. You're such a whore.

San felt a surge of rage, his blood boiling at the audacity of Yeonjun's words. He couldn't let that slide. Carefully, he unlocked your phone and typed out a response, his fingers flying over the screen with determination.

[You] Yes, she's with me. And she's much better off here than she ever was with you. Don’t ever think of insulting her ever again.  - San

He hit send, feeling a grim satisfaction as the message was delivered. He knew it might escalate things, but he couldn't stand the thought of Yeonjun continuing to harass you, especially after everything you'd been through.

San placed the phone back on the bedside table and glanced at you. You were still sound asleep, your face peaceful and content. He gently kissed your forehead, feeling a wave of tenderness wash over him.

"You're safe with me," he whispered, his voice barely audible.

Sliding back into bed, San pulled you into his arms again, wrapping the blanket around both of you. The warmth of your body against his was soothing, calming the anger that still simmered within him. He stroked your hair, his touch gentle and reassuring.

As he lay there, his thoughts kept returning to Yeonjun's messages. The anger flared again briefly, but then he looked at you, peaceful in his arms, and he felt a deep sense of purpose. He would protect you, no matter what.

With that vow in his heart, San closed his eyes, letting the steady rhythm of your breathing lull him into a sense of calm. The events of the night played through his mind, a whirlwind of passion, love, and anger, but ultimately, a sense of rightness settled over him. You were with him, where you belonged, and he would do everything in his power to keep you safe and happy.

As sleep finally began to claim him, San held you close, his protective embrace a silent promise of his unwavering support and love. The future was uncertain, but with you in his arms, he felt ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead. And with that comforting thought, he drifted off to sleep, the warmth of your presence his greatest solace.

[hyunsvngs]

𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐫𝐮𝐧 - baseball player bfb!kim seungmin x fem reader

wc: 14.2k

cw: enemies to lovers, very mean dom seungmin, mc makes out w chan in a friend way, mc is dramatic and a brat, seungmin is done w her shit but is very possessive, SMUT MDNI

synopsis: you love your best friend, you hate her baseball playing brother. he’s not been home for a few years during your summers back home, so you can’t wait for another amazing summer - until he returns home.

a/n: thank u all for being so excited abt this <3 sorry for the length. smut warnings under the cut!

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

sw: very mean dom seungmin (again), face slapping, borderline exhibitionism, unprotected sex, creampies, multiple orgasms, heavy dirty talk, reader is a brat, breeding kink, reader is a painslut, begging

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

When you were a mere three years old, you met your platonic soulmate in the form of Kim Sieun. She had the exact same humour as you, loved climbing on the monkey bars and she had a dog. It was your three best friend criterias fulfilled. When she first invited you to her house for a playdate, you were thrilled, and you’ve been inseparable ever since.

You’ve been through everything together. Your first break-ups, your first hangovers, first parties, you name it - you’ve both been present for each other’s momentous events. You were pretty sure you’d both started your periods on the exact same day. She really was the other part of you, the second silver heart piece to your cheap friendship chain you’ve worn for years around your neck. 

The biggest heartbreak was when you moved away to attend university, and Sieun stayed to begin a full-time job immediately after graduation. You’d been separated after being by each other's side for so long, when everything had been so perfect for you two up until then, only miniscule, small-term problems. 

Well, perfect apart from one thing. 

Her brother. Kim Seungmin was the bane of your existence. Ever since he met you, two years older than both you and Sieun, he found it funny to ruffle your hair and make fun of how shy and timid you were. It’s something you’d brush off now, being the person you grew into - confident, loud, straight up stubborn as some might say. When you were younger, though, this cut deep. You’d had your first ever crush on him, and confided in Sieun about the matter, to which she’d giggled and fake-gagged as if she wouldn’t be overjoyed to have you in the family. You’d had your first ever crush on him, and he’d made fun of you for years after as if he knew. You cannot stand him now. Even being in the same room as the guy boiled your blood. 

It was one of the reasons why you got rid of that personality. That wasn’t you. You were shy and timid because you were only a kid, God damn it! You’d love to say it hadn’t affected you, but it had, and you and Seungmin had bickered ever since you gained enough confidence to fight back. It was actually something Sieun found very amusing, insisting that the two of you were fated soulmates. 

Still, as you stood in the airport waiting for Sieun’s arrival to pick you up, you felt blessed. Coming home for the summer was always exciting. You got to see old friends, who would almost always have parties, and another exciting part was that you’d be staying with Sieun for a solid three weeks of it. It was going to be the best summer ever. Your parents had decided to go away on holiday two days before your arrival back home, and you couldn’t have felt more satisfied with the development.

Oh, and - Kim Seungmin would not be there. No, while you were a student busting your ass to make ends meet, Seungmin had obtained a full baseball scholarship to university and went straight into pro baseball once he’d finished. Of course he did. You tried not to let it bother you anymore, that he was so fucking successful while being so smarmy. It wound you up beyond belief, so you just avoided thinking about the guy altogether. 

Clutching onto your suitcase handle, you almost vibrated with excitement when Sieun’s half-dead car pulled up. Honestly, she’d had the same car since you were seventeen, and it hadn’t been fully working then. It was even worse after a few years. She kept saying she’d get her dad to look at it, but she was always out and about doing god knows what in said half broken car. It was a death trap.

Immediately, you saw the car door swing open - and almost fall off completely - when her engine completely stopped. Sieun bustled out of the car to the loading area of the airport, her puppy eyes wide and her legs shaking. She was going to scream, or jump, or die. Maybe all three. You weren’t doing much better - your eyes brimmed with tears when you embraced Sieun in a death grip of a hug. 

“I- missed- you- God, can’t breathe-“ Sieun grunted, trying to push you off. You pulled away, still with teary eyes as you gazed up at her. She was taller than you, almost matching her brother’s height. The whole family was relatively tall. As soon as you both looked at eachother, Sieun was gripping you in a firm hug again, and it was your turn to get suffocated. 

Once you’d eventually stopped hugging each other and crying - it had been approximately five months since you saw each other last - Sieun loaded your suitcase into the car and all but pushed you into the passenger seat. You groaned as you kicked through multiple McDonald’s cups to try and get your feet flat on the floor. Sieun simply giggled, settling into the driver’s seat. 

She plugged in her seatbelt, starting to drive back to her family home. “So, how’s college been? Any cute guys?”

“Sieun, I called you every week, you know what’s happened,” you laughed, playing around with the settings on her car to try and get the radio on. Did it even have a radio?

“The radio’s broken.” Of course it is. Well, it couldn’t get any worse - you’d already failed the Bechdel test. 

You leaned back against the seat, fingers playing with the friendship necklace chain. You hummed, trying to think of something Sieun may not know. “Well, there was this one guy. Super my type. Stoic, a little bit bitchy, you know? Dark hair, and all that. But when we ended up sleeping together, there was no chemistry.”

Sieun groaned in sympathy. “You know, I hate that! You really like a guy, and then he doesn’t even know where the clit is. It really pisses me off. How’s classes though?”

Sieun normally didn’t ask this many questions straight off the bat, especially not ones she knew the answers to. She was distracting you, sweetening you up by acting like she was just so interested in you. Something was fishy, and it wasn’t the strange smell of her car. When you turned to look at her, her plump lips were pouted as usual, covered in lip gloss - but there was an unmistakable twitch to them. Her eyes were narrowed, staring at the road ahead of her. She was hiding something.

You blinked. She started humming along to a song on the radio. There was no song on. Said radio was broken. “Sieun. What gives?”

Sieun sighed, slamming her hands down on the steering wheel. “Okay! I didn’t know how to tell you. I know this was meant to be our super amazing summer, face masks and beaches and just general slaying, so I didn’t want to ruin it.”

You realised you were arriving onto her street, the big house always taking you by surprise. You wanted to focus on Sieun’s words, but you were instead distracted by the driveway. Sieun’s parents shared a car, and Sieun had her own car. 

There were two cars in the driveway. Sieun’s parents’ car, a silver tank of a thing that looked like it could get through a boulder. Then, a sleeker car, perhaps closer to a sports car - much cleaner, much more expensive… with a personalised licence plate. No. No.

“My brother’s home.”

You wanted to die. Gone were your slay summer plans - now you’d be perpetually arguing with your best friend’s annoying older brother. He did absolutely everything deliberately to piss you off. Taking way too long in the bathroom brushing his teeth while you needed to pee, disconnecting the games controller when you were finally about to finish a boss fight… just petty activities like that. 

Why now? Why had he chosen this summer to come home, when he’d been away for every other summer playing baseball or whatever he does? No. He didn’t deserve to be back right now. You shook your head at Sieun. “I’m not going to let him ruin our awesome summer.” 

Sieun spluttered out a laugh. “Okay, Seungmin’s not the devil. You two bicker like an old married couple, y’know. Maybe there’s-“

“Shut. It.”

You didn’t have the time or the patience to hear yet another ten minute long spiel about how Sieun and her parents strongly believed that you and Seungmin were fated soulmates. The little patience you had completely disappeared when a figure bounded up to the car window. You turned to stare through the glass. 

Kim Seungmin. Stood there, beaming at you with that dumb smile that he always had when he was ready to wind you the fuck up. You had thanked every single god that your window was still rolled up, maybe you could just hide until he got bored and left - until Sieun rolled the window down with an evil chuckle. 

Then, you looked at him - like, really looked at him. The chubby cheeks he’d once possessed had disappeared with age, now sporting some nice looking cheekbones and a sharp jawline. The braces were gone, pearly white teeth showing with his smile, and his hair. God, his hair. He’d dyed the front of his hair blonde, and it was just slightly parted in the middle to show his forehead. He cocked his head at you, eyes glinting with menacing delight at your appearance. Oh no.

“Welcome back, brat.”

The bane of your existence had gotten fucking hot.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

It had just gotten worse. Once he’d pretended to have an ounce of chivalry by helping you take your suitcase inside, Seungmin had immediately reverted to the person he was the last time you saw him. Which was a while ago, by that point, since he’d always been too busy playing baseball games to make an appearance in your life for the past few years. You hadn’t really seen him since you went to university. It honestly made you feel relieved, but now you’d seen him - well, he was definitely better looking than he had been. That fact was only reinforced to you as you walked through their long hallway, taking in all the family pictures that had been up for so many years. You were even in a few of them, chubby cheeks and acne galore as you stood with your arm around Sieun. 

You’d stared at him all the way through dinner, in all honesty. After your second, adopted parents had greeted you and Sieun’s mother had cried upon seeing how much you’d grown - you hadn’t grown since you were thirteen, being on the shorter side of things - you’d all sat down to eat the hearty meal that she'd prepared. Seungmin sat in front of you in his assigned place, something you previously would’ve hated, but you could at least analyse him.

Yeah, something had changed. He was aesthetically pleasing, but you hadn’t forgotten his fucking behaviour. He was a menace. You shoved another forkful of the homemade lasagne in your mouth, furrowing your eyebrows at the boy sitting in front of you. 

His eyes flickered to look at you, but you didn’t even think about looking away. His eyes were so dark. Stoic, almost, and he was like… okay, yeah, he looked like your ex-fling from college. That’s weird. It didn’t even stop you maybe bordering on finding Seungmin attractive, as much as it put you off of your lasagne to even think of the concept.

“Can you stop fucking staring at me?” Seungmin hissed, his fork clattering down to the plate with an eye watering noise. You huffed, reaching forward to stab him with your knife before Sieun yanked your hand back. 

“Who said I was staring at you? I’m eating my fucking food, you heathen, and everytime I look up your ugly face is right in front of me-”

“Oh, I missed this!” Sieun’s mother smiled, her eyes fond. “Let me just get a camera, and I can take a picture of you three.”

Later on, in Sieun’s room, you both sat with your legs laid up against the headboard and sheet masks on your face. The anger was still burning in your stomach, but you were trying not to let everything revolve around him, like it always did. 

“So, we’re going to watch Seungmin’s baseball game tomorrow. Mum and dad are super excited about it,” Sieun said, painting your nails where your hand laid on her stomach. You groaned, feet kicking against the wall with small thuds. Sieun’s hand paused with the tiny paint brush, turning to look at you through narrowed eyes. “You don’t think he… looks different? Everyone’s been saying that since he came home.”

“Looks different?” You snickered. “Still looks pretty fucking weird to me. Seriously, how are the two of you even related? You’re pretty, nice, funny, and he’s so fucking- ugh! I can’t even explain it, and he-”

Sieun snorted. “You think he’s hot.”

You gasped, pulling your hand away. The nail polish smeared all over your finger, which was decidedly the one you used to point menacingly towards your lifelong best friend. “I do not! He’s gotten taller, yeah. The hair’s… different, but that’s the only thing that’s changed. He’s still fucking annoying, even after getting his braces off, and-”

“And you’ve noticed all these things about him,” Sieun sighed, leaning up and readjusting her whole body to sit cross legged, facing you. She put the paintbrush back in the nail polish bottle. The sheet mask made her look a lot less friendly than she was trying to be. The Sheet Mask Murderer could be a good horror film, you pondered, as she stared at you. “Bestie, I’m not going to be upset if you have a crush on my brother, you know? I know he’s grown up in the past year, and so have you. Things could be different now, and… you could be part of the family, officially, I guess.”

You screwed up your face, shock painting your expression. The sheet mask got caught in the lines of your forehead. “You’re deranged, Sieun. You know that, right? Like, you’ve actually lost the plot this time.”

Sieun sighed, fingers reaching to peel the sheet mask off of her face. “I have always been deranged.”

“Well, yeah, there is that.”

She flopped back down next to you, dark hair splaying around her head like a halo. “We will still have the best summer. I promise you.”

“Okay, my conditions are that we have to go to a lot of cool parties, get amazingly drunk and maybe fuck one or two people. Deal?”

“Um, duh? Deal.”

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

You’d dreaded the baseball game all day. For starters, you were going to see baseball, something you had absolutely no clue about. Secondly, it was your literal enemy’s baseball game. It was also one of his pro games, and was taking place at a massive stadium where just about everyone seemed to know who Seungmin was and who his family was. You’d already had to witness Sieun posing with a peace sign for multiple selfies with fans once you’d all found your seats, and Sieun’s mother had already put an arm around you to show you exactly where Seungmin would be once the game started.

“He’ll be over there,” She pointed to a part of the field. You didn’t really care. You had no clue what baseball was or any of its rules - just that there were bats and they hit balls and ran. You decided that was all you needed to know. You weren’t going to do any research for it, not if it was him playing. 

You and Sieun had dressed up, too, because Sieun had thankfully found a beach party for you all to go to later. ‘All’ sadly included Seungmin and his gaggle of just as annoying friends. The only one you really got on with was Chan, who was mature and seemed to be ageing ten times quicker due to the stress the rest of the group caused him. You both kissed when you were drunk and had agreed you were just friends who liked to kiss, which was optimal for you, really. You had decided that you would dress up nicely in a borderline slutty white dress and sandals for the party, and you had makeup on. It was most definitely for the party, and not for any other reason.

When the game started, you thought you were going to have a heart attack and die. While Sieun and her family were cheering out Seungmin’s name, all you saw was that ass in tight, pinstripe trousers. He was grinning, waving over to your section - definitely not at you, he hated you and you were literally looking at him with the most shocked expression in that moment. He looked good. You decided it was okay to admit that mentally, because no one was ever going to hear you say it. His ass looked peachy and you wanted to bite into it like it was one, and maybe see what the front of his body looked like - all of it.

It all looked good, at least when he was wearing clothes. Broad shoulders pulled that jersey tight around them, and his hat was pulled low to almost obscure his dark eyes. When he rolled his neck, clicking it out with one broad hand before grabbing the ball, you knew your panties were wet. Soaking, actually, because he looked so broad and so tall and so fucking powerful on that pitch. You’d always had a thing for men who looked like they could fuck you like you were beneath them. The fleeting thought that Seungmin would definitely do just that caused your cheeks to blaze.

Obviously, his team won. Obviously he did, because then you had to stand there afterwards when his whole family hugged him and you just stood there kicking pebbles before wincing that it hurt your bare toes. Fuck sandals. Fuck Seungmin. 

Once he’d hugged Sieun, he turned to you, cheeks slightly pink from the exertion of the sport. You briefly thought about how baseball wasn’t even that tiring. One stripe of black paint on his cheek caught your eye when you looked at him. When Sieun elbowed your side, you looked up, arms folded across your chest. Seungmin blinked at you, hands in his pockets with a cocky smirk. You knew what he was waiting for. 

Mumbling, you spoke - “Congrats.”

“Say it properly, brat.”

“Fuck you, I don’t say what you want me to say!” You kicked a pebble at him successfully, smiling in accomplishment when it bounced off of his knee. He simply scowled, repeating what you said in a meh bleh, bleh bleh type of way. When you let your arms drop from your chest to strangle him to the floor Bart and Homer style, Sieun gripped you by the back of your bodycon dress and dragged you back to stand next to her. 

“Go get changed for the party, Seungie,” She said, keeping you in her hand like you were a rabid dog on a leash. “And you. You can’t just try to strangle my brother-”

“How did you even know I was going to strangle him?”

“Because, it’s not the first time!” Sieun shouted, stomping her feet like a child. She finally stopped holding onto you, huffing as she turned to look at you fully. Seungmin’s parents had left to get to the car, insisting on giving you all a lift to the beach where the party was held. Your parents would never. You’d lost count of how many times you had blisters from walking back from somewhere five miles away because your mother was engrossed in another show on television. Seungmin raised an eyebrow at the both of you. 

“I’m gonna go get changed.” He finally spoke, waving towards the direction of the locker room. You grimaced.

“Okay, and? I don’t care,” When you watched Seungmin walk away, eyes unable to tear away from that tight ass in those trousers, you could practically feel Sieun’s own eyes boring into your face. Finally turning to look at her, you saw a slight smile on her lips. “Don’t.”

“I didn’t say anything, bestie.”

You stormed off to the car, in a foul mood now that you’d been caught by Sieun ogling her own brother. Just to make matters worse, you had been designated to shimmy into the middle seat of the back because you were the smallest, so you’d be sat in between the two siblings. Brilliant. Just ideal, really. Thankfully, Sieun’s parents had already put the air con on. The heat of the summer had been killing you in that packed baseball stadium. 

“So, what did you think of Seungmin?” Sieun’s dad asked you. He looked a lot like Seungmin actually, just an aged version with salt and pepper hair. You smiled politely, about to respond before Sieun cut you off.

“Dad, don’t. She’s already wound up.” You wanted to kiss Sieun. You could not discuss what had just happened, including the game. You’d spent the whole time drooling over the bane of your existence. When Seungmin finally got to the car, you side eyed him in order to see what he was wearing, and were more than pleased to see he was in a light grey t-shirt and baggy blue jeans. Good. Nothing tight. 

The beach party was packed when you arrived there. A lot of sweaty young adults smoking weed, drinking and perched around a campfire or dancing near the portable speaker playing music quietly. All you could think about was how much you deserve a drink after the day’s events, and you were quick to drag Sieun over to Chan when you spotted him. Dark curly hair hidden under a hat and a sleeveless black tank top. Unmistakably Chan, and also unmistakably someone who would donate alcohol to a good cause. 

He immediately looked up at you, his smile wide with dimples adorning his cheeks. You saw Seungmin flop down next to some other friends he had from the corner of your eye. Chan caught your attention though, handing you and Sieun a beer each. “Hello, you. Welcome back to the town.” 

“Channie!” You squealed, taking the beer from him and wrapping your arms around his neck. He subsequently pulled you onto his lap and Sieun giggled, sitting in the sand next to him. You’d always been close with Chan, and you wouldn’t be lying if you said you found him attractive. Those arms showing in the sleeveless top were definitely doing something for you that night, but you weren’t sure if it was the pent up aggression from earlier. You immediately pressed the beer to your lips at the thought, swigging down a lot of the liquid. 

Then, it just felt like the drinks kept coming. Over and over you were drinking beers that were handed to you by either Chan or Changbin, one of the others you were friendly with, and you found yourself becoming tipsy and slouching on Chan’s lap. The fire burned your eyes a bit when you stared into it, but you were still giggling, leaning your head back on Chan’s shoulder.

Seungmin glowered, turning to Sieun and speaking almost inaudibly. “Stop her drinking. She’s making a fool of herself, all over Chan like that.”

“They’re friends, you idiot. She’s not even drunk, they’re just always like that!” You didn’t have time to thank Sieun for defending you immediately against her own brother because Hyunjin was coming over to you with two small plastic shot glasses. One sniff of the liquid proved it was vodka, a fact you weren’t surprised about - Hyunjin loved to get utterly white-girl-wasted at any party. His smile was wide and eyes half-lidded already when he looked at you. 

“This is for you,” Hyunjin whispered. His fringe almost obscured his face as he handed a shot glass to you, and offered the other to Chan. Chan held out his hand, pushing it softly back to Hyunjin. Hyunjin literally just shrugged his shoulders, toasting your own shot before knocking his own back. He didn’t even make a face when taking shots, which was probably the fact about Hyunjin you were most jealous of - along with his ethereal beauty, obviously. You grimaced when the liquid hit your own taste buds, glugging it back thankfully. You couldn’t gag on Chan right now. 

The music filled your ears as the sun began to set. Someone had turned the speaker up just a bit louder, and Jisung had started to dance and embarrass himself. It was the usual behaviour. You saw Changbin chatting to some girls you and Sieun had gone to school with, and Sieun got up to go and join, leaving Seungmin chatting with the other boys on the other side of the bonfire. You sat quite happily on Chan’s lap, listening to him telling a story from work.

“I mean, it was insane. Hannie quite literally wrote this entire song in like, five minutes. We were all super drunk. I have no idea how he did it,” Chan said, hands flying everywhere in his story. You blinked at him for a moment, processing who Hannie was. Ah. Han Jisung. Hannie. The round-cheeked boy was still twerking across from you. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, ‘m just a bit tipsy now,” You giggled, nuzzling into his cheek. Chan laughed at your level of clinginess, hand placed on your hip comfortingly. “Sorry, Channie.”

“That’s okay. Hey, remember a few years ago? You always wanted kisses from me and Changbin when you were drunk, heh,” Chan looked at you, eyes fond. When you finally looked into his eyes, it was like your brain caught up with what he was saying. Kisses? God, that’d be so good.

“Kisses. Oh my God,” You whispered, eyes wide. Chan threw his head back, hand over his face while he laughed this time. “Channie.”

Chan sighed, finally looking at you. “Yes? What is it?” He knew what it was. You surged forward, pressing a familiar friendly kiss to his plump lips. He raised his eyebrows in shock, pulling you back by his grip on your hips.

“I cannot kiss you right now. Seungmin is there, and he is looking at us.”

“Who cares about that guy? He’s an ass,” You mumbled, pressing your lips to Chan again. Chan sighed into the kiss, finally giving up and letting his lips brush against yours. You loved kissing Chan. It was always so fun, so familiar, just two friends making out when drunk. It was one of your favourite pastimes, to be honest. You were just getting into the kiss when you felt hands on your waist, scooping you up and throwing you over one broad shoulder. You heard Chan laugh while you were disoriented, trying to work out whose shoulder you were even on and why are you walking away from the beach party?! You were having so much fun! 

“What is goin’ on?!” You shrieked, legs flailing around. You were slurring at this point, and you even heard Sieun giggling over the music. Finally, you heard a sigh as the feet of the body you had been stolen by started to wade through the sand and onto the street.

“We are going home. That’s what’s fucking going on,” Seungmin. You grimaced, wriggling to try and get off of his shoulder, but the grip he had on your body was unbelievable. “Why the hell were you doing that?”

“Doing what? Kissing Chan? I always kiss Chan.”

“I don’t want you to do that anymore, okay?” You huffed at his words, resorting to slamming your fists on his back as he walked quickly down the street. He didn’t even flinch. “Are you listening to me, brat? I don’t want you doing that.”

“You are not my fucking dad, Kim Seungmin. You don’t decide who I kiss!” You sounded like a petulant child, whining and squirming around to be put down on your feet. Finally, Seungmin grabbed your hips with both hands, placing you down on the floor. Cars were speeding past you as you both stood on the pavement. You crossed your arms over your chest, vision slightly blurry from the intoxication and body covered in sand. Seungmin didn’t look to be doing any better, beige specks of sand in his dark hair and his grey t-shirt completely covered. He shoved his hands in his pockets, tilting his head when looking at you.

“I may not decide who you kiss, but I’m gonna be mad if you do that again. Got it?” Seungmin was stoic, sharp as he spoke in a monotone voice towards you. You furrowed your eyebrows. What? Why did it matter? ���He’s my friend.”

“Okay, and? I don’t care.” You repeated your words from earlier. Seungmin huffed, blowing a strand of blonde hair from his forehead. You looked at him. He looked at you. Then, he was turning around, walking down the road in the direction towards his house. You gasped, appalled that he’d leave you there on the side of the road like some kind of bag of trash. 

After a few long strides, you heard him groan faintly in the distance. He stopped dead still, turning around to you with a grimace. “Are you coming, or?”

You stood your ground. “Nope.”

“Fine, stay there and be killed by a raccoon or something, fucking brat. Or worse, an actual murderer. Wouldn’t that be scary? A murderer just killing you while you’re standing there in your sandals. Can’t even protect yourself, can’t throw your shoe at him like you do with me because what harm will sandals do-” Seungmin stopped talking when you ran at him, eyes wide as you wrapped your arm around his own. He huffed, trying to shake your arm off of his, but you held on tightly. Your bottom lip quivered. You were such a baby when it came to scary things like raccoons and murderers. 

“‘M scared now, Seungmin.” You whispered, leaning your head on his arm. You could practically sense Seungmin rolling his eyes as he wrapped his arm around you, holding you close to his warm body. 

“Only five minutes now. Five minutes and we’ll be home, okay?” You nodded, trying to keep up with the strides of his long legs. 

In bed that night, laying in Sieun’s bed sans Sieun, you couldn’t help but wonder just what the fuck that was. Seungmin was almost nice for a moment. Sure, he’d had that weird freak out about you kissing Chan - that was strange - but then he’d not left you on the side of the road. A few years ago, he would have left you on the pavement and then proceeded to go get a car to run you over on said pavement. He had changed.

Kim Seungmin was hot. You’ll admit that, unfortunately. But now Kim Seungmin was hot and he had morals, too. 

That one would be hard to process.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

The next morning, you were woken up by Sieun’s arm across your forehead and her soft snores in your ear. You briefly felt extremely guilty for making sure she hadn’t gotten home safe, but judging by her still sleeping, she’d left after you’d fallen asleep. You wanted to wake her, to ask her what the fuck her brother’s deal was, but you settled on heading downstairs to get some breakfast and calm your stomach. It felt like a bomb had gone off in there. 

You started to make your way downstairs to get breakfast, but you walked straight into Seungmin’s chest as soon as you left Sieun’s bedroom. He stood with a mug of coffee in his hands, blinking down at you like you were, in fact, a bomb that had just gone off in front of him. 

You stared up at him, eyes wide. He furrowed his eyebrows. “Move, brat.”

Oh. So he was just going to forget him being borderline nice ever happened? What a fucking- ugh! You scoffed, looking down at the coffee. 

“You know this isn’t your room right, dumbass? Take your coffee into your own room.” Seungmin rolled his eyes, barging past you to stand by the door.

“It’s for my sister, dumbass.” You wanted to ask where’s mine, then, but Seungmin would only laugh at you and move on with his life. It annoyed you beyond belief that Seungmin had actually been nice to you the night before and then continued to act like absolutely nothing happened. You wanted to positively kick him across the face like the Mortal Kombat games he used to unplug your controller on.

Still, you had hope for the summer. Two straight days of hell would not change your mind. You just had to get through today, a chill, relaxing day with Sieun where you both nursed slight hangovers and probably cried over making mistakes the night before. Then there was hope for some fun tomorrow. 

Tomorrow was the annual camping trip with your friend group. It only went on for one night, in the woods close to your actual home a few streets away, but it was something everyone looked forward to. Unfortunately, given that your friend group was also Seungmin’s friend group, and that he was back now, it meant he would be there. This was unlike the annual camping trips before, and you were dreading his presence. You just had to avoid him, and he wouldn’t stop you kissing your friends. He wouldn’t stop you having fun if you just acted like he wasn’t there. The thought made your blood boil. 

You hid in the bathroom until you heard Seungmin’s footsteps recede back into his bedroom, and then you emerged. Fuck breakfast. You needed a good heart-to-heart with your best friend. Stomping back into the bedroom, you were met with Sieun’s eyes still only half open, just about emerging from above the mug.

“Oh, hey,” Sieun mumbled. She blew the hot liquid in the cup and then took a sip, humming with satisfaction. You stood there, arms crossed across your chest and foot tapping with annoyance. Sieun looked at you. You looked at her, a frown on your lips. She sighed. “What’s he done now?”

“Well, what the fuck was last night, Sieun?!” You exclaimed, throwing your body down on the bed. Sieun snorted, sounding like she was holding back a laugh. “Sieun, he picked me up and took me from a party. What was that? And, and! On the way home, he was kind of being… nice?! Then, just now, this morning, he was being absolutely horrible again!”

“And this annoys you because…? You’re always horrible to each other, sweetie.”

“Yes, I’m aware,” You huffed, turning over to scream into a pink heart pillow on Sieun’s bed. “He’s coming tomorrow, too. Like, as if it could get any worse!”

Sieun hummed. You heard the mug clink onto the bedside table, probably to live next to another ten mugs for about three weeks. “I’ll make sure he’s on his best behaviour.”

You grumbled into the fabric. Then, as if you’d completely forgotten about it, a blurred memory came into your head. I don’t want you doing that anymore. He’d said that in confidence, stood there in front of you, all long legs and pouty lips forming the words. “He… he said he didn’t want me kissing Chan anymore.”

Sieun spluttered. “He- he what?! Why would he say that?”

You shrugged. “D’no. Weird though. It… it made me feel weird. Like, almost shy. I don’t know.”

“That’s because you have a big old crush on my brother. We’ll address that later, though, because it seems my brother may have a big old crush on you,” You lifted your head, blinking at her. The drink had gone to her head last night. She was now clinically insane, beyond deranged by the sounds of it. Her eyes were peering out of the window opposite her bed in deep contemplation. “I mean, it makes sense. You two do bicker like an old married couple, but maybe that’s your shtick.” 

“I do not have a big old crush on your brother. He does not have a big old crush on me. We are mortal enemies.”

“Mmhm, okay, honey. We’ll see what happens tomorrow, yeah?”

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

You didn’t sleep a wink the night before the camping trip. Of course you didn’t. Your thoughts were riddled with stupid remarks and baseball uniforms and long legs looking amazing in said baseball uniforms. Eventually, you’d actually cried a bit, just wanting him to leave your mind. Then, you felt pathetic crying over a man. That disgusted you beyond belief.

It had you thinking that Sieun may have been onto something. Maybe you did have a stupid crush on her brother. Maybe it had never left, ever since you’d caught sight of his chubby cheeks and mop of dark hair when you were both little. You’d have to just overcome it. Arguing with him would probably help, and you did that everyday, so it’d be fine. Manageable, at least, so long as he kept his goddamn nose out of your business. You’d had stupid crushes on people before, and you knew this one could leave very easily and very quickly.

Unfortunately, due to the lack of sleep, you had been forced to smother your eye bags in concealer that was maybe a shade too light. Seungmin had commented on this when you and his sister loaded your stuff into his pristine car, grimacing at the sight of you.

“You look like a ghost, brat.” You had immediately tried to rub the concealer off with your fingers, and now it was just a smeared mess on your otherwise decent skin. Fuck that guy. Fuck Kim Seungmin. Fuck yourself, too, because why were you trying to adhere to what he said?

It had still been plaguing your mind when you laid next to the lake in the woods while everyone drank around you. You had taken your premixed cocktail in a can to the lake not too far from the lake, and were perched in your blue bikini trying to get somewhat of a tan. Your skin was only blazing with anger, not sun. All of a sudden, you heard some branches snapping, and opening your eyes served you with the face of your best friend.

“Truth or dare. C’mon, everyone’s playing.”

You were lugged back to the campsite, groaning with your can still in your hand. Chan perked up immediately at the sight of you, patting his lap in invitation. 

You went to walk over, smiling at his dimpled cheeks, but quickly turned to Seungmin. “Sorry, Channie, I should probably check if I’m allowed first.”

Everyone erupted in roars, even Chan, who dragged you by your waist onto his lap while still giggling. Seungmin practically glowered, eyes staring you down with the anger within him. 

“Let's start with you then, brat,” Seungmin said, motioning towards you with the hand wrapped around the neck of his beer. “Truth or dare?”

You pretended to think. You always chose the same thing. “Truth.”

“Boring!” Sieun screamed, her pink bikini strap slipping down her shoulder. Changbin used two fingers to push it back up into place. Always a gentleman. “Okay, what is the biggest lie you’ve ever told?”

Seungmin turned to Sieun, displeasure written all over his features. “It’s literally meant to be me asking the question.”

“I don’t care.” Sieun shrugged. She also knew what the biggest lie you’ve ever told is, judging by the smirk on her face when she turned back towards you.

You smacked your lips together. Okay. If he had a crush on you, it would be instantly severed in that moment, because you were about to wholeheartedly tell the truth. “Seungmin, I was the one who broke your PS4. I spilled coffee over it.”

“What?! You fucking brat!” Everyone screamed again, Chan howling with laughter at Seungmin’s exasperation. “Tell me that you aren’t serious. You told me that-“

“I told you that the dog peed on it?” You giggled. Seungmin nodded, eyebrows furrowed. “Yeah, no. It stank of coffee, so you’re kinda dumb for believing me in the first place.”

Seungmin huffed. His cheeks were red, breathing heavy. Oh, he was so mad. Good. You lived your life specifically to piss Kim Seungmin off.

“Okay, Seungmin. Truth or dare?” Changbin spoke up. He didn’t need to speak up, because his voice was like a foghorn already. Seungmin sighed again, turning to the shorter male. 

“Dare.”

“I dare you to kiss Dahyun.” You turned to the girl in question. She was quite quiet, only speaking when spoken to, but you and Sieun had been friendly enough with her back in high school. She’d been close with Chan, though, and had kind of stuck with the group since. You thought she didn’t even like Seungmin either, but the way she perked up at the statement said otherwise. 

Seungmin, however, was still looking very pissed off. He put his beer bottle on the floor, sighing as he made his way over to Dahyun. You heard Jisung giggling, making lewd comments and noises in Minho’s ear, who just pushed him off with a sigh of fondness. All of a sudden, Seungmin’s lips were pressed to hers. You could see everything. Tongue and spit swapped between the two, and you found yourself turning to look at your drink instead. Awkward.

It made you feel awkward. More than that, though, it kind of made you feel weird. You weren’t sure of the emotion exactly, but you knew you wanted to leave instantly and never see Seungmin or Dahyun ever again. You also wanted to scream. Especially when you finally let yourself look up, when the cheers receded to murmurs and Seungmin had pulled away from Dahyun, looking straight at you. 

You locked eyes with him, blinking. Then, you saw fucking red.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You blurted, seeing Seungmin’s eyes widen at your outburst. Dahyun’s eyebrows raised, looking at you with fear. You turned to her with a timid smile. “Not you. Him. The bastard you kissed seems to think he can tell me what I can do, who I can kiss, yet he seems to be doing whatever he wants? Is this a joke, Kim Seungmin?”

Sieun laughed awkwardly from her position next to Changbin, rising up onto her feet. “Okay, perhaps this doesn’t need to happen right now-“

“No, let the brat speak to me how she wants. It’s not going to fucking end well, and she knows it,” Seungmin spoke, throwing his beer bottle down on the floor exasperatedly. He stood up, light blue baggy jeans looking slightly brown with the mud and an oversized jersey falling off of broad shoulders. You took in his appearance with nothing but an angered expression, cheeks burning with rage when you realised he still looked really fucking good with his hair dyed like that. Something about him shouting at you was turning you on, too, but you decided to address that at a later date. “I told you not to kiss Chan for a good reason.”

You scoffed. You could practically hear Chan’s hair turning to grey from stress behind you. “Oh, yeah? What reason is that? He’s my friend.”

“You should- you should only kiss people you like. People you’re interested in,” Seungmin was shouting now, finger pointing at you determinedly. You rolled your eyes, making him stomp his foot in the mud. 

“I guess that means that you like Dahyun then, huh?” You said, remembering to give Dahyun another smile. This really wasn’t against her. She was sweet, and she hadn’t done anything wrong. Kim Seungmin just grinds your fucking gears. 

You realised way too late that maybe you didn’t want to know the answer to the question that you’d so loudly shouted. 

Seungmin ran his hand through his hair, licking his lips. You tried to avoid staring at his mouth when he eventually retorted. “Maybe I do, brat. What’s it to you?” 

You blanched. It was nothing. It was nothing to you, really, but you definitely couldn’t back down now, even if you could sense the rest of your friendship group feeling slightly awkward in the wake of tension. You folded your arms over your chest, staring Seungmin down while you searched your brain earnestly for something that would hurt. 

“It’s nothing to me. I don’t give a fuck about you, Seungmin.”

Seungmin looked like he’d stopped breathing, staring at you with intensity in his eyes. You couldn’t quite work out what emotion they held, but you had a feeling that you may have gone a bit further than your normal bickering. It was only a matter of time, really, with you having a very short temper and all. 

As if it had never even happened, Seungmin rolled his neck and shrugged. He sat back down on the floor with a flurry of movement and with another shift, his arm was around Dahyun and he was pulling her close. She looked like she wanted to run very far away, but then Seungmin was handing her another beer and it was apparently fine. 

Changbin cleared his throat. “Okay, shall we continue?”

The rest of the night went with seemingly no hitches. Everyone drank, sang, danced, and the tents were slowly filling up with people retiring from the night, their skin still dewy with the water from the lake close by. You even managed to avoid getting riled up by the bastard sitting opposite you, so that was an achievement in itself. Eventually, you retired to the tent you, Sieun and Chan had been designated, limbs stiff from sitting down for so long.

Wiggling into your sleeping bag, you zipped up the fabric with your whole body inside like a cocoon. You could hear mumbling and giggles from the next tent over, but choosing to ignore it, you shifted over to face Chan. He was still awake, scrolling through his phone. You weren’t sure the guy ever fucking slept, in all honesty. Sieun snored behind you steadily, the sound of cicadas breaking up the noise of her heavy slumber. 

Chan blinked up at you, locking his phone when he saw you were still awake. The moonlight just about seeped through the walls of your temporary home for the night and you could see his features, sharp as always. He grinned at you, pulling you closer by your sleeping bag. “So.” 

“So,” you agreed, nuzzling into his bare shoulder. The summer heat was still present in the night, although mild, and he’d clearly chosen to not overheat with his chest bare. “This whole night was really weird, Channie. My life is really weird right now.”

“Tell me about it,” Chan hummed, fingers scratching on your scalp soothingly. “How long?”

You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. Chan simply looked at you earnestly, his lips in a tight smile. “How long… what?”

“How long since you’ve liked him?” Chan whispered, clearly registering the noise from the next tent over. You blanched, before realising that well - you could lie to Kim Sieun, Kim Seungmin and yourself, but you couldn’t lie to Bang Chan. He was too kind, too dear to you in a different sense to what Sieun was. 

“I dunno what it is, but I’m ignoring it,” you responded, even quieter than his whisper. “It’s weird. Makes me feel weird.”

Chan let out a silent laugh, chest shaking next to you. “Crushes tend to do that, babe. They make you feel all weird and fuzzy.”

“Kim Seungmin does not make me feel weird and fuzzy, Channie. I can’t stand him.”

“You can’t stand him because he makes you feel weird and fuzzy, and maybe it’s about time you realised that.”

You huffed, turning over to press your back against his chest, despite being separated by sleeping bags and extra fabric. Chan shuffled closer, pulling you in for a cuddle nonetheless. He pressed a kiss to the back of your head, murmuring, “you can’t avoid him. I know you want to, but you can’t. He’s your best friend’s brother.”

Unfortunately, this was something you had already recognised. Staring at Sieun’s sleeping figure reminded you that yeah, he was your best friend’s brother, and while a relationship between you and him would never fuck anything up… well, an unrequited crush might. It would be too awkward. That’s why you swore you were going to ignore him. 

You had to go back to hating Kim Seungmin.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Fortunately, it was a lot easier than you’d anticipated. You’d managed to avoid him in his own home. You didn’t even see him in the hallways, sticking to showers late at night while he was always showering in the early morning, and you and Sieun had been eating out nearly every day to avoid family dinners. It almost felt rude, but with Seungmin, being rude was not possible. He was the epitome of rude.

Rude, brazen, and with zero morals. You’d almost forgotten that in the haze of him being nice once and looking pretty all the time. Sure, he was aesthetically pleasing, and maybe he was exactly your type. But you were never going to forget the history between you ever again, not if you put your mind to it. 

However, the concept of your own morals slipping to actually possibly like Seungmin had ruined your days since. You just couldn’t believe yourself! That’s Seungmin you were very nearly lusting over. Your mortal enemy, the bane of your existence. Who cared if he’d gotten hot?

Apparently, you did. As you stood in a party with Sieun dancing around carelessly, you were clutching your drink tight and thinking of your enemy. The drink limited your inhibitions, making you able to think more freely. Why did he look at you like that after kissing Dahyun? Why did he stop you kissing Chan? Why did- 

“Why are you still overthinking? We’re at a party!” Sieun hollered, the drink in her cup threatening to slosh over the edges with her dancing. You shook your head, putting on your best fake smile.

“I am having the bestest time,” You insisted, smiling and starting to do a little jig to the music. The house party, held at Changbin’s literal mansion, was slowly filling up. You and Sieun had retired to the kitchen to down a few drinks so that you felt less awkward and could start going feral with the rest of the party, but the more drinks you had, the more you got inside of your own head. This wasn’t like you. You were the party girl, the girl who everyone had awaited return to the town - you wanted to scream and stomp your feet like a child. 

“You’re totally not, honey,” Sieun mumbled, seeing the look in your eyes. You sighed, downing back the concoction in your cup. You’d worn another slutty dress to the party, done your makeup and hair and now it was all going to waste. “Are you sure you don’t wanna head back?”

You shrugged. “I mean, if you want to, we can.”

Sieun’s eyes widened. “Well, I was just- I was gonna call you an Uber, and get you home. I’m gonna stay, y’know, it’s Changbin’s house, and… yeah.”

And she wanted to make out with Changbin. She was so valid for that. You sighed again, looking around at the kitchen. The party was a bit too much for you right now in your utterly discombobulated headspace. Maybe you should go back, just chill for the night, sleep. It was probably for the best, or you’d ruin Sieun’s night too by being so awkward. 

“Ah. Yeah, okay, maybe it’s best if I go home,” You looked at Sieun, who was beginning to eye up Changbin. He was in a pretty intense game of beer pong with Jisung, and both parties were screaming their heads off. You didn’t want to stand between Sieun and her destiny, her fate. Sieun turned back to you, a glint in her eye. “Alright, would you call me an Uber? But um, maybe I should go to my house. Y’know, since-“

“He’s at practice,” She said, shaking her head. “Not home. Don’t worry, he won’t be home for a little while.”

You frowned, checking the time. It was 9pm. Did practice go on this late? You let yourself accept her statement anyway. You still had no clue what happened in baseball, or what happened in baseball practice nonetheless. It could go on until 3am for all you knew. Sieun pressed a few buttons on her cracked phone before she was grinning, sending you a thumbs up.

“All done. He- the driver, he’ll be here in five. Good?” You nodded, giving her a quick hug. “You need me to wait outside with you?”

“No, no,” You shook your head. You couldn’t ruin her night even more through your petty questioning of why, why, why. After giving Sieun a quick kiss on the cheek, you made sure she went straight over to Changbin and was safe before you left the house. It took you a solid five minutes to even try to wade through the bodies and you were thankful you were leaving -  you really didn’t have the headspace for that.

Standing outside, you rubbed your hands over your arms to try and gain some warmth. You’d never been great with cold, and although the summer nights weren’t as biting on your skin, it was still unpleasant when you didn’t have the body of a friend next to you. It was also your fault for wearing a strapless minidress that was about two seconds from falling down or riding up, or both. 

The car really only took five minutes. You were thankful for this, as Ubers were inherently unreliable and it was getting colder, and way too loud in the house behind you. Scurrying down the front steps, you didn’t look at the car until you were about a foot in front of it, looking up at the vehicle. 

The car was very familiar. You weren’t sure if the few drinks you’d consumed had made your eyesight go funny, but… no, that definitely was Sieun’s car. You could see inside the car, a lot cleaner than when she picked you up from the airport but still looking half broken. And… Oh God. She’d really done you dirty this time.

Seungmin was sitting in the driver’s seat, and he rolled the window down upon your arrival. “Are you getting in?” 

“No.” You blurted, arms crossed over your chest. “Why are you driving Sieun’s car?”

“Mine’s in for a service,” He responded, eyes racking over your figure. “You look freezing, brat. Get in.”

“No.”

“I’m not going to have to get out and grab you, am I?” He said, eyes narrowing at you. You blanched. He was kinda scary tonight. With a sigh, you made haste to the other side of the car, and heard him mumble “thought not”.

You buckled up your seatbelt when in the passenger seat, and tried to reach over to fiddle with the aircon. The car was cold, too, and you found yourself even more on edge now that you were sitting with Seungmin in a confined area. 

Fiddling with the aircon, you felt Seungmin bat your hand away. “It’s broken.” You turned to look at him, completely silent, and then you saw it. He was in his baseball uniform. Tight pinstripe trousers on those long legs and a loose jersey on his upper body, hair almost flattened from his hat. It still looked good, blonde streaks breaking up the dark mop of hair on his unfairly pretty face. 

“Hello?” He waved a hand over your face. “Are you deaf now, brat? It’s broken.”

“Yeah, sorry,” You mumbled, turning to face out the window. You sensed Seungmin tensing, before he sighed and started the engine to the car. The car started to speed away from Changbin’s house before you even recognised it, too holed up in your head. 

Seungmin sighed again when you were still silent, no noise circulating the small space of the car. “What’s wrong with you lately?”

You turned to him, blinking. “Huh?”

“I’m asking what’s wrong with you lately. I’ve barely seen you. You haven’t been bickering at me, haven’t tried to physically fight me lately. What’s going on?”

You screwed your face up in confusion. “You don’t even care, Seungmin, so why are you asking?”

“Of course I care,” Seungmin’s eyebrows furrowed. He was staring at the road, not looking at you even as your eyes raked over his body unashamedly. “I don’t completely hate you, brat. You just piss me off a lot of the time. So, what’s wrong?”

Gazing at the bulge in his trousers, you realised you needed to stop being so thirsty and reply. “I don’t want to talk about it.” Why did you say that? Why was that the thing that came out of your mouth?

“Funny, because you seem to always want to talk,” Seungmin snickered, one hand tight on the steering wheel. His other arm rested on the armrest, looking the epitome of comfort and relaxation while you felt like you were dying. His remark made you burn with anger. How dare he? You don’t even talk that much, really. “I mean, can’t really get you to stop talking, so-”

“Shut up!” You shrieked. “You wanna know what’s wrong? You. You’ve been pissing me off so much lately, Seungmin. First, it’s the baseball uniform. Like, do the trousers have to be that tight?! Then, you stop me kissing Chan, and make me like, reconsider our whole dynamic for a hot second. Oh, and then, you kiss Dahyun, and that just- that just made me feel all weird. I didn’t like it, I felt weird.”

It was silent for a beat. Another beat passed, and Seungmin was brushing his tongue over his teeth in silent thought. Then, he was pulling into a layby on the side of the quiet road you were driving down, and he unbuckled his seatbelt. The engine switched off and Seungmin turned to you, eyes gazing directly into yours.

“Feel weird how?” He questioned. You scoffed.

“What do you mean?”

“How did it feel weird, brat? You felt confused, maybe a bit sick, awkward even? Upset?” All the emotions Seungmin was quick firing at you had you nodding. You had felt all of those things. Then, all of a sudden, Seungmin was lunging towards you and pressing his plump lips against yours. You gasped, hands going to his broad shoulders. When you felt the material of his baseball jersey, you realised you kind of didn’t want to pull away, and you brushed your lips against his in a response to his movement.

When a second passed, Seungmin’s tongue was pressing into your mouth with fervour, one large hand going to the back of your head to keep you in place. You whimpered into the kiss, your tongue dancing against his and your fingernails digging into his shoulders. When Seungmin eventually pulled away, you chased his lips subconsciously, pouting when he just stared at you. 

“How did that feel?”

“Seungmin-”

“How did that feel, brat? Fucking answer me,” His thumb swiped across your bottom lip, slick with spit from his filthy kiss. You moved to encase his thumb in your mouth, keeping eye contact as your tongue swirled around it. 

Letting his tongue drop out of your mouth, you undid your seatbelt, moving closer to the figure next to you. “Felt good.”

Seungmin hummed, hands moving to grab your hips. He effortlessly lifted you onto his lap, your core settled right on top of the bulge in his fucking baseball trousers. You squirmed, hands moving to brush his hair out of his face. It was a strangely intimate moment, your fingers in his hair. “It feels good because we like each other.”

“Mm, no. Not possible,” You insist. Seungmin’s lips turned up into a smile, his eyebrow raised. “We bicker all the time, and-”

“And you got just so pissed at me kissing Dahyun, just like I lost it over you kissing Chan. I saw you staring at my ass in my game, and in all honesty, I’m staring at your thighs in that dress right now.” 

You look down at your thighs. They were spread immodestly, plush flesh slung over Seungmin’s thinner legs. Your dress had ridden up with your movement, and your core was barely covered by a strip of black lace that you referred to as underwear. It could barely be considered as underwear. Turning your attention back to Seungmin, you saw him still staring at your thighs, a hungry look in his eyes. 

“But- we argue all the time. You boil my blood, to be honest,” You admit, feeling a bit sheepish sitting on top of him like that. Seungmin let out a small laugh, hands moving to brush up and down your thighs. The feeling of his warm hands on your bare skin made you sigh, inching closer for more touch. 

“You piss me off too. You piss me off so much, I want to fuck you until you’re screaming my name and crying. Is that fucked up?” Seungmin spoke, licking his lips. His attention went up to your own lips, to which you were nervously biting your bottom one. “I liked you when you were shy and quiet and you barely spoke. When you became stubborn, and outspoken, I liked you even more. It made me want to fuck you into submission, brat.”

You could literally feel yourself getting wet. Fuck you into submission? Now that sounded fucking amazing. You weren’t surprised he had the exact same sexual interests as you. You were a brat through and through. It’s where the nickname came from, after all. 

“Fuck me then,” You kissed his lips chastely, feeling him groan deeply into your mouth. He entertained you for a few seconds, a filthy swap of spit and tongue before he was pulling away. Your chest heaved, fingers digging into his shoulders once again. “Fuck me. Please, I’ll beg! I don’t care, just-“

“Shut the fuck up, brat,” Seungmin admonished. Your mouth instantly clenched shut in reaction, toes curling in your shoes. He threw his head back, eyes shut as if he was trying to control himself. He was just as affected as you. After a moment passed, he looked back at you, eyes still just as dark. “I’m not fucking you in Sieun’s car. I’ll take you home and fuck you nice and full in my bed. Does that sound good?”

You found yourself nodding, and Seungmin let you reposition yourself back in the passenger seat. You had never felt more excited in your life. Except, when he tried to start the ignition with the key, the car spluttered a few times and then stopped altogether. You blinked at the car. Seungmin took in a sharp inhale of air. He tried to turn the key again, and the car rocked as if in protest, but didn’t start. It was dead.

“Okay, fuck me in the car then?” You questioned, turning to face Seungmin again. You saw him almost laugh, lips curling, before he was shaking his head at you. 

“I like you too much to treat you like that.”

“Seungmin, you treat me badly everyday. It’s our whole thing.”

“Well, yeah, but you’re my girl now. It’s different. We’re still going to bicker like mad, but I’m not having our first time be in a fucking car. Especially not one owned by my sister,” Seungmin sighed, long fingers reaching into his pocket. He clicked a few buttons before he landed on Chan’s contact. It didn’t even ring once before Chan picked up. “Hey, old man. So, we’re stuck in Sieun’s car, it’s finally died. No, I’m not with Sieun. Yes, I’m with her. Chan, can you stop asking questions and just come and save us?”

Your chest was still heaving when you heard rushed murmurs. His girl? He’d called you his girl, and surprisingly… you weren’t all that mad about it. He was sexy, and he was rude. But wasn’t that your type anyway? Taller than you, stoic, bitchy and could actually fuck you good. The last statement was something you had no doubt about, the way he’d effortlessly moved you onto his lap like that… you were squirming in your seat just thinking about it, clenching your thighs together. You didn’t even hear the click of the phone when Seungmin hung up, still focused on trying to get some friction on your core.

“Stop being a brat,” Seungmin demanded. You pouted, turning to him, to which he met your gaze with a steely glare. “I’m sure you can wait until we get home. Chan’s on his way.” How fucked up is it that even though he’s still being mean, he’s just making you like him more?

It wasn’t long before Chan’s sleek black car pulled up in front of Sieun’s. Luckily, you’d parked on a housing street where not many cars passed, so it’d be alright for Sieun’s car to stay there until the morning. Seungmin was instantly unbuckled and out of the car, baseball uniform tight on his legs as he walked over to your side. When you got out of the car, you expected him to walk away from the car straight away, but he had his arm around your waist tightly as if he was escorting you to the other vehicle. You even saw Chan’s confused expression in the driver’s seat. 

Chan only looked more confused when Seungmin followed you into the backseat and sat next to you, leaving no space. “Uhm, so. Back to yours then, Seungmin? We can sort the car tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” Seungmin agreed, quiet as his warm hand went to rest on your thigh. Subconsciously, your legs spread to allow him access, and you heard him sigh next to you. Chan started the engine, speeding off down the road. He seemed on edge, turning the radio up loud. 

You stared at the rearview mirror, seeing Chan focusing on the expanse of road in front of him. With one of your boldest ever moves, you grabbed Seungmin’s hand, placing it on the front of your panties where you were soaking through the lace. Seungmin leaned in close, lips brushing against your ear. 

“You want me to finger you while he drives us home? That’s dirty, pup,” Seungmin murmurs. You let out a shaky breath, head rolling onto his shoulder. “Maybe I shouldn’t. You’re too desperate, I don’t think you’ve worked for it yet. Let’s make out a little, how’s that?”

You nod eagerly, fingers moving to grasp on his biceps. “Yeah- I need something, Seungmin. I think I’m going to die, you’re so hot in that fucking uniform, I-“

“You’re filth,” Seungmin groaned. “Fucking- c’mere.” His hand went to the back of your head, yanking your hair back before his lips were pressed against yours.

His tongue pressed his spit into your mouth in the most sexual kiss you’d ever had, and you let out a soft sigh at the feeling. His lips were so soft, so plump against yours and it weirdly just felt right - you liked him a little more when he was kissing you until you were breathless over when he would make fun of you. 

“Okay!” You’d forgotten Chan was even there until his hands clapped together. You both turned to look at him, your lips kiss-bitten and swollen. You were outside Seungmin’s house. When did you even get there? You blinked, staring at Chan. He gave you a wide smile. “I’m so glad you guys have worked things out, but I really don’t want my car soiled. Please go home.”

“Thanks for the lift, old man.” Seungmin was dragging you out of the car by your wrist, all the way up the driveway and into the house. Before you knew it, he was taking you up the stairs, too, and you were standing in front of his door.

Seungmin’s bedroom door. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d even been inside. It used to be littered with figurines and music paraphernalia, and you had no idea what it would look like now. When Seungmin pushed open the door, it looked a lot cleaner and less immature, pristine grey sheets tucked into the corners like a hotel room and only a few baseball items littered around. 

He turned to you, pressing a peck to your lips. “Are you sure you want to fuck me? I have to warn you beforehand, I can get a little…”

“Mean?” You giggle. Seungmin nods, a smile on his lips. “I like mean. I thought I made that obvious.” 

“And I like bratty girls who need to be hurt until they cry. Are you a little painslut, brat?” You nod at his words. You couldn’t think of anything better, molten hot need rushing through you at the mere idea. “Good. Get naked for me and lay on my bed.”

Scurrying over to his bed, you just couldn’t believe you were actually about to do this. You were about to fuck the guy who you absolutely hated a month ago. You would’ve never dreamed of this - but now, it had you thinking. All of the bickering, all of the pissing each other off - had you just been trying to wind each other up for a specific response? Had you been doing it to get his attention? The thought hurt your brain, but you knew one thing. You wanted to fuck Kim Seungmin so fucking bad, and fuck whatever happened afterwards.

The fabric of your dress dropped to the floor once you’d unzipped it, the fabric pooling at your feet. You kicked it away, leaving yourself braless with just underwear on. Seungmin’s eyes trailed down your body, humming when you settled back against his sheets. 

That’s all he did for a while. He just looked at you, taking your full appearance in with wandering, claiming eyes. You found yourself meeting his gaze when he looked at your face. His trousers were even tighter than before, a long, hard erection pressing against the fabric. Letting your palms wander up your tummy, a delicate, grazing touch that made you squirm, you landed on your chest and tugged on your nipples.

“Are you gonna fuck me now, Seungie?” The nickname dropped from your mouth before you could even process it. Seungmin scoffed, before he was pulling his jersey off with haste. It left him bare, exposing soft, milky planes of skin to your eyes. His body was lean yet toned, looking like the muscles would ripple under your fingers but feel so velvety at the same time. It was the perfect representation of his personality. 

He was on the bed quicker than you’d expected, lunging towards you like a primal animal stalking its prey. You gazed up at him when his movement landed him above you, your legs spread around his hips. All that was heard throughout the room were deep breaths when his bulge situated against you through your underwear, the puffs of air spanning across your skin where he leaned above you. 

“Should I fuck you?” He mumbled. You nodded slowly, letting your hips roll up against his. Seungmin licked his lips in response, hands going to pin your hips down. “Tell me what you like.”

You whimpered when his lips went to your neck, sucking on a spot underneath your jaw that felt so, so sensitive. “I like... Rough. Pain. I like it rough, I like being treated like I’m beneath you, but then- God, Seungie- you need to- I need to cum, when we fuck. Please?”

“Men don’t make you cum often, brat?” You shook your head, whining again when he sucked a hickey into your collarbone sharply. “That’s a pity. I bet you look so fucking beautiful when you cum, so desperate. I think I’ll let you cum.”

“Thank you,” You moaned lowly when he trailed his lips further down your body. His lips encaptured one of your nipples, a hard peak so sensitive to his loving tongue. The moonlight shone through his curtains, highlighting the new hairstyle he had and his button nose when he sucked on your breast. As if he’d been building up to it, Seungmin let his teeth bite into your nipple sharply, and you positively squeaked at the sensation. 

Letting your nipple pop out of his mouth, Seungmin grinned up at you. “Good?”

“More, more. Please, hurt me, please-”

“Hurt you?” He shifted again, looming over you in that dangerous, almost territorial way. “What if I slapped you? On your face. Would you like me to make that pretty face red?”

You gasped, eyes rolling back at the mere idea. He ground his bulge into you, waiting for your answer. “I- I love that, please, Seungmin, slap me. Oh my God, please, I think I’m gonna die-” 

You were cut off with a harsh smack to your cheek. Your head rolled, gasping in the aftermath of the pain. It should’ve put you off, it should’ve hurt too much, it should’ve made you question if he really liked you - but all you could think was again, please. That’s all you could say, too, begging him to slap you again. 

“Fucking filthy brat,” He grumbled, hand swinging again to slap you across the face. When your head tried to roll to the side again, he gripped your cheeks with his thumb and finger. You whined incoherently when he looked down at you, squishing your cheeks, until he was letting spit dribble into your mouth. “Mine.”

“Yours,” You nod, agreeing, and Seungmin groans at the sound of you saying it. You heard the rustling of fabrics, the moving of bedsheets and then his cockhead was positioned at your sopping wet hole, panties pulled to the side. You tried to buck your hips into it, trying to catch his cockhead and lure him inside, but his grip pushed you back down. 

“Tell me again. You’re mine, yeah? No more kissing Chan,” Seungmin rubbed the leaking tip against your hole, making you attempt not to squirm again. “No more arguing with anyone that isn’t me, brat. I’m your punching bag, yeah? You take all your anger out on me and I’ll fuck you nice and hard afterwards, hurt you the way you like. That’s what you’ve always done it for, right?”

Your brain was fuzzy. Yes, that’s what you’d always done it for. You had always done it to get a rise out of him, and now that you were being put in your place, it made you feel like you were running a hundred miles an hour through a sandstorm. 

“Yes, ‘m yours, Seungie, please, can I have it? Need it,” You whine, head thrown back against his soft pillows. Seungmin coos at you condescendingly. 

“Do you? But what about prep, brat? It’ll hurt otherwise, won’t it?” Despite his words, he’s pressing the head of his cock inside of you. The stretch was blinding, making your toes curl and hands dig into the pillows. 

“I- I want it to hurt.”

“Of course you do,” Seungmin sneers, before he’s pushing his whole cock inside you at once. It’s long, pressing against your cervix as he bottoms out and your eyebrows furrow, jaw dropping in a silent moan. “That pussy’s so wet, fuck. I turn you on that much?”

“It turns me on to argue with you, turns me on when you’re mean- fucking, Seungmin, please, move,” You were admitting something you hadn’t quite admitted to yourself just yet, but when Seungmin started to snap his hips against yours, your brain went clear of all thoughts. “Ah, oh my fuck- fuck, fuck, fuck- hnng-”

“‘S good? You’re taking me so well, pretty little brat, you want a reward?” You nodded at his words, but you weren’t braced for his hand smacking your cheek once again. You reeled, eyes feeling blurry as his hips picked up the pace. He was breathing heavily on your cheek, warm breath fanning over even warmer skin. “Was that good? You want more?”

“Please, Seungie, please, more, slap me again, harder,” He slapped your opposite cheek this time, a welcome relief from your reddened cheek. The problem was that when his hand collided with your skin, you felt yourself seize up and - oh. You were cumming. “Ah-”

“Fuck, are you cumming that quick? You’re so fucking filthy, pup,” Seungmin groaned, his cock still bullying into your hole. With his pace not slowing, you couldn’t ride out the orgasm properly, and it was just one constant blissful experience. Your eyes rolled back into your head, toes curling with pleasure. “Cumming from me slapping your pretty little face. Dirty fucking bitch.”

“Seungie- I can’t, I can’t take it, please slow down!” You were squealing at that point, fingers digging into the pillows. 

“I don’t think you want me to, do you?”

He was so right. You shook your head, whining out again when he pulled out. Your hole fluttered around nothing, clit still swollen with arousal. Your slick had dripped all the way down to his pristine sheets, tarnishing his once neat room. Seungmin was quick to spin you around, putting you on your tummy with your ass just slightly raised for him. 

Within a brief moment, he was pushing inside of you again. His cock was still wet with your arousal, and your back arched when he bottomed out inside of you for the second time. Seungmin gripped your hair, making your back permanently arched for him. His lips attached to your neck, blonde highlighted hair draping onto your skin. 

“‘S good, so good,” You babbled, trying to push your ass back onto him. Seungmin allowed it this time, his hand moving from your hair to your neck. He squeezed the sides expertly and you whimpered, hands moving to grab his wrist. 

“You like that, don’t you? I’m meant to be your enemy, you dirty bitch, and look at you,” He was chuckling mirthlessly, grinning when you kept babbling. “I guess you like my cock too much. Dumb fucking slut, all I have to do is fill you up and you’re nice and sweet for me.”

“B-Bet you wish you’d done it sooner,” You quip, which would’ve been much more impressive if you hadn’t stuttered it out. “Would’ve shut up for you and been a good girl a long time ago.”

Seungmin hummed. “I think I like you bitchy, brat.”

“I jus’ like you,” You slurred, feeling Seungmin’s pace slow. He’d resorted to a slow, deep grind that had you feeling every inch and every vein on his cock. You could hear him snickering in your ear, and he pressed a cute little kiss to your neck. His free hand went down to your clit, rubbing precise, firm circles against the swollen button.

“Think you can ride me, or are you too cock drunk?” Seungmin hummed. You shook your head rapidly.

“I- too much, can’t-”

“Alright, brat, let me fuck you some more then. I need to cum in this pussy, yeah?” Seungmin was laughing again, and all of a sudden, he’d let go of your neck. You were immediately face planted into the pillows and Seungmin gripped onto your ass, thrusting into you quicker this time. You whined, trying to push back onto him, but he smacked your asscheek in admonishment. Letting your hips shift slightly to allow your hand to meet your clit, you picked up where Seungmin left off with the tight circles. It made the pool of arousal in your tummy clench, and you vaguely realised you were going to cum again. 

“Seungie, please- I want cum, want cum, with me, please-”

“Want me to cum inside you, brat? While you cum around my cock? That’s dirty, pup,” His voice faltered when his hands gripped onto your asscheeks harder, spreading them to see where his cock was entering you over and over. You knew you were soaking, you could feel it - and the wet glide of his length inside of you felt fucking delectable. You recognised no one had fucked you like this before, letting you cum over and over on their cock like this while they held back their own orgasm, and it made your head dizzy. You’d have to come back to Seungmin for more, you thought, and you didn’t hate the thought at all. 

The bed rocking suddenly caught your attention, and you whimpered, trying to alert Seungmin of the noise. The last thing you needed was his parents hearing you get your back blown out by their son, who you claimed to hate. You reached back, trying to grab his arm, but he was groaning loudly, cockhead hitting your g-spot with every thrust.

“Seungie, ‘s too loud, the bed,” You managed to get out, drooling on his pillows. Seungmin let out a loud groan before he was pulling you back onto him, forcing you to fuck back onto his cock.

“And? I don’t care. Pussy’s so fucking good, gonna make me blow, shit,” Seungmin mumbled. “You ready for my cum, brat?”

“Yeah, want it, please, please Seungie, fill me up, breed me!”

“Breed you? You want me to breed this pussy, dirty pup?” He bit your neck sharply, making you keen. You nodded erratically at his words. You couldn’t think of anything better than him filling you up with his cum. “Cum with me. Flood my cock.”

His hand came down on your ass again, and as you felt his hips stall, an unfamiliar warmth filling up your pussy, you let go around him. Your pussy fluttered with delight - probably also confusion, because oh my God, you were cumming twice? With someone else?

It felt messy, juices gliding everywhere as he just rocked his hips a little to ride out your orgasms, and then you were left to fall flat on the bed. He pulled his softening cock out, sighing when your pussy oozed out his cum onto his sheets. He didn’t seem to care about his bed, much more entranced with the sight of your hole gaping after him. 

He’d fucked you so good your pussy was going to remember the shape of his cock forever. That was for sure.

You let yourself drift, brain going blurry until you felt a cloth wiping between your legs. It was cold, slightly wet as it rubbed over your swollen folds, and you whimpered, trying to shift away from the touch.

“Stay still, brat. ‘M just cleaning you up.” You nodded, face still buried in the sheets. It was then that Seungmin finally pulled your panties down, chucking them to the floor and pulling a pair of basketball shorts up your trembling legs. Were they… his? He’d put you in his clothes? Bizarre. You didn’t even react when he spun you over, pulling a baggy t-shirt over your upper body. He’d gotten fully dressed in a plaid pyjama set, baffling you. When had he done that?

You were moved again, positioned on a very firm chest and a bottle of water pressed to your raw lips. You glugged it down thankfully, blinking up at Seungmin. His hair was mussed, but pushed back with a cute Pochacco headband. Wow. He was actually cute. 

There was a beat of silence, then Seungmin spoke. His hand was tracing your scalp, running his fingernails over it. “I meant what I said. You’re my girl. I think you always have been.”

You scoffed. “Yours?! I’m not a possession, Seungmin-”

Seungmin kissed you softly, giggling when you still tried to yell. Had he always reacted this amused when you bitched at him? You realised that… yeah, he had. It really did entertain him. “You’re so cute when you have a go at me like that, you know? Such a brat.”

You twiddled your thumbs together when he pulled away from the kiss, staring at the bottoms of his plaid pyjamas shyly. “So… you wanna be like, together? Since you’re hot, and all.”

Seungmin chuckled again, pulling you closer to his chest. “As long as you never ever stop bitching at me.”

“I don’t think I could stop even if I wanted to.”

“I like you that way, brat.”

END. 

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

EPILOGUE

Sieun stared at you upon your arrival to breakfast. Her parents were preoccupied in the living room, and her eyes settled directly on your neck. You knew that your neck was littered with bite marks, hickies galore, but you’d tried your best to hide it.

“Listen, I’m so happy for you,” She began, hand clasped tightly around her mug. “I know I always ask you for details of sexual escapades, but I kind of don’t need to know about how good my brother is in bed.”

“Oh, yeah, for sure,” You nod, agreeing. “But he does know where the-“

“Stop!”

A mug of coffee is placed in your hands, made just the way you like it. The steaming liquid is a welcome warmth, as is the kiss that Seungmin presses to your cheek. You blush, staring up at him when he wraps his arms around your waist.

“Good morning, brat.”

[streetlamp-amber]

the common cold

batfamily x batmom!reader

word count: 2.7k | divider by @saradika | requests are open!

REQUEST: “hi I love your writing so much. You can totally ignore this but id like to request batmom/batfam where maybe Dick and Jason get sick and batmom takes care of them and then she gets sick and Bruce has to take care of her this can be before or after the baby is born. And b obviously doesn't want to get sick so he wears a mask and gloves when he has to be around her.” NOTES: this is set less than a year after first kicks but you don’t need to read it first to read this one. also this is your reminder that the covid pandemic is not over and to please start wearing a mask again in public spaces to protect yourself and others from catching a very disabling and very deadly virus!!

It all started in Dick’s classroom.

It also didn’t help that a common cold was not considered serious enough for the kids to miss out on school. So, naturally, the virus spread through the students and Dick ended up bringing it back home to the Manor. It didn’t take more than two days for Jason to catch it too.

You refused to send your boys off to school no matter what the rules were. You were still on maternity leave – being Bruce Wayne’s wife had many perks, one of them being a one year long maternity leave with no complaints from your boss and the guarantee that you would have your job back once it’s over – so you spent the entirety of your days nursing your boys back to health. Your four month old baby girl Alice had been moved to Alfred’s wing where he was taking great care of her until the virus was no longer a threat. Bruce, ever so protective of those he loves most, didn’t want to risk the two most vulnerable people in the house to catch the boys’ cold and so you reluctantly agreed that, for the time being, it was better to have your baby quarantined away from you. You still made sure to visit the two every day, once you had showered and changed your clothes, but you couldn't wait for this to be over and have your baby back in your wing of the Manor.

Dick and Jason were two different people when sick. Where your oldest had no problem with remaining in bed, doing nothing but reading or watching television series on the iPad, the other one absolutely hated being confined to his room and being forced to rest.

“But Ma! I’m fine-d!” Jason nasally cried out exasperatedly, all dressed up for school and with his backpack hoisted on his shoulders.

You tried your hardest not to chuckle at the fact this was straight out of an episode of Friends. “When you put a ‘d’ at the end of ‘fine’, you're not fine,” you told your son, leaning on his doorway with your arms crossed over your chest.

“But staying in bed is sooo boring!” He continued complaining. He would've said more but a series of cute little sneezes interrupted him.

“You know, kids usually would kill to have days off from school and here you are, actually wanting to go back to school,” you laughed as you walked in his bedroom and sat down at the foot of his bed.

“I’m missing the big dodgeball tournament,” Jason pouted, crossing his small arms over his chest.

“I’m sorry Jaybird, but you’re in no shape to play dodgeball,” you told him, moving his dark hair away from his forehead and putting the back of your hand against it. “At least you don't seem to have a fever, which is better than your brother.”

Jason deepened his little pout on his lips and you sighed. “Tell you what, I’m gonna go check on Dick and then you and I can play board games once you’re back in bed and dressed in clean pajamas, how's that sound?” You suggested, hoping to lift his mood a little bit.

He reluctantly nodded his head and that was a good enough answer for you.

You left his room and went across the hall to Dick’s bedroom. “Hey bubs, how are you feeling?” You asked him from the door.

Dick looked over at you with his glazed eyes from his iPad and lifted his right arm, making a thumbs up but lowering his hand so that the thumb was laying horizontally in the air, halfway up and halfway down. A pitiful sigh blew out of your lips as you walked in his room and you sat next to where his body was curled in his bed to check his temperature. You handed him the thermometer from his bedside drawer and after holding the stick under his tongue for a few seconds, he gave it back to you.

“Well at least your fever has gone down a little,” you told him as you put back the device on the bedside drawer. “Keep on resting and continue drinking lots of water, I’ll be in Jay’s room trying to keep him occupied until lunch so knock on the wall if you need anything and I’ll be able to hear you,” you said while softly running your fingers in his hair, making him close his eyes as he appreciated the soothing feeling.

“Thanks Mom,” he groggily said and pressed play on whatever show he was watching on his iPad to pass time.

It wasn’t until a week later that the boys had fought off the cold and were good to go back to school, much to your contentment. You loved them with all of your heart, but you missed having your baby girl around you.

You woke up on Saturday, feeling off. You had a pounding headache, your throat was scratchy and your nose was clogged. “No. No, no, no,” you whined nasally. It was established yesterday that Dick and Jason were no longer sick, Alice was supposed to come back in your side of the manor today, but it looked like you had caught the boys’ virus.

A soft knock at your bedroom door drew you out of your sorrow. It wasn’t until your husband, still in his pajamas and holding your daughter in his arms, that you realised his side of the bed was unoccupied. “Someone couldn’t wait to see her Mommy,” he sang, wiggling Alice around in slow movements and making her giggle loudly.

Expecting you to smile and hold out your arms for the baby, Bruce was surprised that you burst out in tears instead.

“Don’t come closer, I caught the boys’ cold,” you hurriedly said before he walked further in your bedroom. You grabbed a tissue from your bedside table and dried your tears then blew your nose.

Bruce’s face morphed into a sad frown. “I’m sorry sweetheart. You just stay in bed, I’ll bring this missy back to Alfred and I’ll take care of you,” your husband told you, taking control of the situation like he so easily did as Batman.

You nodded your head and more tears fell out of your eyes as Bruce left with Alice. You just wanted your daughter by your side and it pained you that not only were you gonna be separated from her for longer, but this time you could not go see her throughout the day like you did for the week prior.

About five minutes later, Bruce was opening the door to your shared bedroom again, this time with an N95 mask wrapped around his head and latex gloves on his hands. Your eyes were round with surprise when Dick and Jason followed behind him, KN95 masks on their faces as they weren’t big fans of the head strap.

“What are you two doing here?” You asked your sons before a short coughing fit rattled you.

“Dad told us you’re sick and we want to help him take care of you like you took care of us,” Dick answered as he stopped next to Bruce at your bedside while Jason climbed on the bed and sat crossed legs next to you.

Tears blurred your vision once again and you grabbed both of your boys’ hands. You wanted to hug them and press kisses all over their heads, to shower them with all the love and affection you held for them, but you settled for hand holding to not reinfect them. “I’m so lucky to have the sweetest, most caring boys in all of Gotham,” you told them, your emotions bleeding through your voice.

Jason couldn’t help himself and hugged you with his small arms wrapped around your middle, nuzzling his head to your body. “Don’t cry Ma,” he said and it took everything in you not to sob at the sound of his small voice.

Jason was a Mama’s boy through and through. You were the first person he warmed up to when he joined your family, you were the only one he listened to whenever he was having a tantrum, you were the one he would wake up in the night to soothe him after he had a nightmare. He hated to see you in pain, he hated being away from you (the thirty hours you spent in labour were Alfred’s thirty longest hours of his life, even as Dick tried to help him entertain Jason while they waited for you at home) and he would burn down anyone who dared make you cry.

“Alright boys, let's give Mom some room so I can get a few tests done and make sure it’s nothing too serious,” Bruce gently ordered your sons, who complied without protest.

“Bruce, it’s just a cold,” you whined at your overprotective husband. “I didn’t protect myself while taking care of the boys and caught their bug, it’s nothing serious.”

“Like you always tell me darling, mieux vaut prévenir que guérir,” Bruce replied and you grumpily huffed, knowing he was right.

“What does that mean?” Jason asked curiously. It fascinated him that both you and Bruce could speak more than just English and he was oh so eager to learn all the languages you spoke.

“It's the french equivalent of better safe than sorry,” your husband explained as he got out a thermometer from the medical bag he brought with him from the Batcave.

Bruce got to work, running down a series of few tests to make sure you really only had a cold, as your sons observed him. You then came to a realisation that made you chuckle, prompting all three boys to look at you with interrogation points in their eyes.

“It’s just funny how, usually, I’m the one with the medical bag, cleaning your bruises and stitching you up after patrol,” you explained and you saw the corners of Bruce’s eyes narrow, knowing there was a small smile behind his N95 mask.

“Well, it's good to get out of the routine every once in a while,” he said as he started putting away all the material he had gotten out of the medical bag, “but let’s not make this a habit.”

You scoffed, or more like managed to scoff as a coughing fit took over your body at the same time. “That’s rich coming from the guy I’ve been stitching up every night for the last ten years.”

Bruce glared at you, unamused by your comment, as the boys giggled behind their masks.

“Mom might be sick but she’s sound enough to still be sassy to Dad,” Dick remarked to his brother.

Your husband rolled his eyes, exasperated, and decided to ignore what had just happened. “You’ve only got a cold, so just drink–”

“Drink lots of water, keep myself warm, chicken broth, chicken broth, chicken broth,” you interrupted him. “I know what to do Bruce, I’m a mother who spent the last week taking care of her sick kids,” you told him, slightly annoyed.

“Except that now I don’t want you to do anything. I’m the one taking care of you darling,” Bruce softly said, not affected by your mood. “I’m gonna go start a pot of chicken broth. Boys, help your mother get comfortable and stack some pillows behind her,” he ordered around your sons as he slipped out of your bedroom, medical bag in hand.

You stayed silent and unmoving for a few seconds, waiting for the creak of the second stair from the top (that you refused to get fixed) under Bruce’s weight, to spring into action. “Dick, I need you to go to Alfred’s wing and ask him to make some chicken broth,” you quickly whispered, making your now thirteen year old pause in his action of retrieving some pillows for you. “I love your dad, but that man can not cook. At all,” you explained. “So I need you to go wash yourself quickly, change your clothes, run to Alfred’s wing and ask him to make some chicken broth that you will bring to me incognito. Capiche?”

Dick nodded his head, taking your request as seriously as a Robin mission.

“Oh and while you’re over there, play a little with your sister, make sure she hasn’t forgotten who you are,” you tried to joke although your heart twisted a little. You really hated flu season and you hated being separated from your daughter even more.

“Don’t worry Mom, I was already planning to,” Dick told you, the corner of his blue eyes narrowing as he smiled behind his mask. “We’ll even facetime you so you can talk to her,” he added as he opened the door.

Your eyes filled with tears, you hadn’t even thought of doing that in the first place. “Thank you bubs,” you smiled tearily at him before he left the room.

“Mama, do you want me to put some of the sticky cream on your chest?” Jason asked you when he judged the stack of pillows behind you was good enough.

“The VapoRub?” You clarified and your son nodded his head. “Yeah, it’ll help clear my airways. Do you know where it is?”

Jason shook his head ‘no’ so you instructed him which drawer in the bathroom he needed to rummage through to find the little jar and he left your room with determination to complete his own mission.

Now that you were alone, you laid down a little lower under the duvet, leaning your head back on the mountain of pillows behind you as you let out an exhausted sigh. You just hoped to get through this cold as fast as possible.

To your surprise, Bruce walking back in your shared bedroom interrupted your little moment.

“Oh darling, don’t cry. What is it?” He asked you in a coo as he came to sit next to you on the edge of the mattress. 

“I’m not crying,” you quickly denied even though you knew your eyes were filled with unshed tears.

“But you were about to,” he countered and you couldn’t argue with that. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be making chicken broth?” You avoided his question with one of your own.

“Saw Dick in fresh new clothes walking in the direction of Alfred’s wing,” he explained, “and you and I both know cooking is not my forte,” he finished with a light joke.

“It’s the thought that matters, honey,” you placed your hand over his that rested on your bed, rubbing your thumb over his knuckles.

“Yeah but now I’m feeling pretty useless,” Bruce sighed out, staring at your hands.

“Well, you can make yourself useful by checking in on Jason who was supposed to be back with the jar of VapoRub by now,” you said.

“That’s because you keep one billion things in those drawers,” he chuckled and you hit his shoulder with a soft punch.

“Mieux vaut prévenir que guérir,” you argued, repeating what he told you earlier.

Bruce shook his head from left to right. “Alright, I’ll go check on our little bird,” he said and stood up. “Anything else you want me to bring?” He asked you as he neared the door.

“A cup of the Cold 911 tea blend please and thank you,” you answered while reaching for a tissue to blow your nose with.

“A warm cup of tea for my sick wife, coming right up,” he confirmed and disappeared in the hallway, leaving the door slightly ajar.

“When you say it like that, it sounds like I’m terminally ill!” You retorted loud enough for him to hear you, judging by Bruce’s laugh that echoed along the wood panelled walls of the second floor.

You ended up being sick for no more than three days, much to your enjoyment and relief, and spent the next two weeks glued to your daughter Alice, refusing to let her go after spending that much time away from her. Alfred loved to joke about your boys’ love being the secret remedy to your speedy recovery, and he wasn’t entirely wrong when he said that, but Bruce staying at home for those three days to take care of you, even taking a break from his Batman patrols to be by your side at night, was the mystery ingredient to cure your common cold.

[fish-crow-star-snowman]

LaDS Zayne Imagine

Zayne x reader/mc

angst, fluff, pregnancy and labor

You had gone into labor before you knew it. Everything was planned and carefully organized for the big day that your little one would arrive.

No one is ever really READY though. Your excitement and nervousness was getting the best of you. While Zayne whom was often on the other side of that spectrum, calm and collected as ever, was quite the nervous wreck himself.

He'd been at work all day, not too busy. Regardless, he hated leaving you at home. Prayed in hopes that he would conveniently be home by the time you went in labor. His heart dropped receiving a call from the obstetrician gynecology department of the hospital.

"Dr.Zayne, your wife is in labor."

Throughout the months of the pregnancy, there were several talks with your obgyn about this being possibly high-risk. Every possible scenario surged through Zayne's head. During the whole experience, you often were met with doctor Zayne rather than what you needed the most, your partner.

The second the call hung up, he was quick to run to your side. He'd already given notice to his colleagues prior to your arrival just in case. He was almost always prepared. Almost.

His eyes gleamed upon seeing your already exhausted but seemingly relieved look. While he's obviously glad to see you're okay, his attention turns to the doctor, another colleague.

"How is she doing, Dr.Turner?"

"Oh Dr.Zayne, it's been a while! How have you been holding up?"

Silence sweeps the room for what felt like an eternity. Zayne clearly was not in the mood for a reunion. The doctor opting to answer his question instead.

"She is one centimeter dilated. No imposing risks so far. It's been smooth sailing. However she's not progressing nearly as fast as we would like.

"How long has she been here?"

"3 hours, sir."

"Why wasn't I called earlier.."

His tone deepens, irritation seeping from his obviously overworked body. The doctor stayed quiet, knowing the words 'too busy' wouldn't have been a good enough answer.

"My love, I tried calling you first but you didn't pick up. I remembered you had a 6 hour surgery this morning. I chose to call an ambulance instead. I'm sorry."

Guilt stung his chest. Of all hours of the day, why. He walked to your side and took your hands in his, pressing your fingertips to his lips and whispered.

"You always come first. No matter what."

His words were meaningful and for a moment you had the man you had been longing to have for months. It was short-lived however.

Like the doctor predicted, it was an unusually long process. You didn't dilate your second centimeter until 6 hours after your partner's arrival at your room. It's been about 30 hours of nonstop cycles of contractions. Unbeknownst to him, Zayne hasn't been making things easier.

Both of you were completely worn out, haven't ate or slept. Zayne's surgeon mode was still on and you were about to combust. Talks with the doctors about your condition like you weren't in the room, like you were just another one of his patients. Looking over your chart and giving demands to the nurses as if he were still working.

You knew he was trying his best to keep his composure for you. Making sure you were in the best health at all times and he was doing an amazing job. It didn't change the fact it was making you feel a little alone in this. What you needed was his hands on yours, telling you that you were going to be okay. That you can do this. A kiss to your forehead every now and again for reassurance maybe?

Nine centimeters. Finally. You were close to the end and soon you'd be holding the proof of yours and Zayne's love. At least it's what it should have been but you were at your breaking point. Zayne had his back towards you still keeping up conversations with nurses.

"Zayne!"

He tensed hearing your strained shout. He turned to look at you with that oh so familiar concerned gaze. Everything was quiet once again. All that was heard was the sound of the monitors beeping. It was your turn to feel guilty.

You closed your eyes briefly and sucked in a deep breath before holding out your hands for him to take. Understanding your gesture, he walks to your bedside crouching slightly to your eye level.

You fought hard to keep the tears from spilling out of your water line. You spoke in the softest tone possible, in hopes to forget how you just yelled at him.

"You are an amazing doctor and I couldn't ask for a better one these past few months." You paused for a moment, letting a tear shed your cheek and huffing another breath. "But I would like to have my husband for this.. please.."

His eyes widened at the implication of your words and letting out a soft gasp of realization.

He stands up finally relieving himself of his white coat he had been wearing since yesterday and removed his glasses to set on your bedside table. It showed how disheveled he was underneath. Hair was a mess, tie crooked from his constant fidgeting and tugging, and two buttons at the top of his shirt undone.

Zayne motions you to scoot down your bed a little, sitting behind you to cradle you with his strong legs on both sides of your body. His fingers traced the back of your arms before resting them on your shoulder and giving them a tight squeeze. Small kisses made their way from your shoulder to your neck.

Your body reacted immediately, letting loose the tension you didn't know you even had.

"I'm sorry." Zayne's voice a little shaky but gentle and clear nonetheless. "I'm sorry I've left you alone in this. It was never my intention. I love you so much." He repeats those same two words over and over.

While you can feel your gown dampen from his own tears, you can't help but smile. This. This is what you needed to relax. Before you could open your mouth to respond, the obgyn breaks the moment.

"Alright, ten centimeters dilated. Are you ready to start pushing?"

Zayne drops his hands to your side, signaling for you to take them into your own as support. Placing more kisses to the top of your head, he whispers reassurances. 'You've got this' 'You can do it' 'You're so strong'.

You have a tight grip on his wrist threatening to break his arm, but he didn't seem to care. If he could take all your pain, he would. Dilation was a tiring process, everything after seemed to flow rather quickly. The head, then shoulders, and finally legs.

Within seconds of the doctors clearing your baby's nasal passage, you and Zayne hear that oh so beautiful sound you had been waiting for. Before moving on any further, the baby was placed on your now naked chest. You admired every inch of your baby, in awe. Thick black hair sat on top of their small head. Eyes glowing hues of orange and green.

You have a Zayne mini me. Speaking of which, distracted by your own emotions, you forgot to see how your husband was hanging on. And it definitely wasn't like you expected, he wasn't saying anything but he didn't have to. His expression said enough. Your baby already had him wrapped around their finger.

His hand came to rest upon yours that was cradling the back of the baby's head. "Thank you for this new chapter in life you've given me, my jasmine."

"Congratulations Mr and Mrs. Li, it's a—"

——————————————

a/n: I never intended this to be a fic, it was just meant to be an idea for a better fic writer. one who writes more. It just rolled this way. however if anyone wants to use this, please do. Just give me a little credit ❤️

[giannaln4]

I Missed You

lando norris x fem reader

summary: You missed seeing Lando being happy after a race, and you couldn't wait to tell him how proud you were.  (1.4k words)

warnings: fluff, stablished relationship, a bit of mclaren slander

a/n when i tell you i loved this idea SO SO much. i’m not too sure i’m happy with how this turned out but i really hope you guys enjoy it 🩷 i apologise for posting this just before the race but it was a bit hard to get started for some reason 😭 anyway pls let me know what you think!!

check out the original request here!

↺ back to navigation — send me a request!

The weekend in Monza was one you were hoping to forget. The tension in the air reflected not only in the team but also in the comments people were making about it, having even sports commentators and content creators question McLaren’s entire strategy to keep their fighting position in the WCC and also have a shot at the WDC. 

Lando’s demeanour immediately after getting off the car was something you would never forget, though, even if you tried. It was pretty obvious for everyone, even if he tried his hardest to never say something bad about his team and his teammate. That team was his home anyway. He had been with McLaren even before his F1 career started, and even after weekends like this one, he would never doubt he wanted to achieve great things with them.

That is probably what made it harder for him. This year they were competing not only for points and podiums but for something bigger, and after knowing what he is capable of, ending up in that position absolutely crushed him, and you hated to see him debating with himself. 

Once the weekend was finally over and you were leaving Italy, you wanted to make him feel better, telling him how great he was and how proud you were. You even shot some comments at McLaren for everything that went down, but he didn’t want to hear it; he barely wanted to talk about it, so you just dropped it. You understood him anyway, so you had to leave everything behind and just be supportive of your boyfriend.

You were hoping this weekend would be different, better, everyone was, and there was a lot of talking in the team that they would make the right decisions to keep fighting now that they had the chance. This, of course, would only mean something until they actually proved it during the race. 

Lando was in a better mood coming into this weekend; he trusted his team and he was confident they were backing him up. That was until the qualifying came. A yellow flag being pulled out by mistake during Q1 caused him to lose the opportunity to even put up a fight, and he ended up being P17. It wasn’t even his fault, but you knew he was beating himself up for that result. 

“Lando,” you called him right after he came back to the garage to watch the rest of the qualifying. He looked at you with a disappointed smile. “It’s not your fault, baby.”

“I know.” He pulled you into a hug, not wanting you to worry about him too much. “There’s nothing I could have done. We just have to wait and see what we can do tomorrow.”

“I’m sure you’ll do amazing,” you replied into his chest, rubbing small circles in his back to let him know you were there for him, no matter what. 

“We’ll see. The car felt okay, but it’s hard to overtake on this track. It’s quite a long straight.” He let out a nervous giggle as he pulled away; he didn’t sound as confident as you were hoping, but you knew he was right. “Some of it is just going to have to cross our fingers.”

There was no point in fighting him when he got like that, so you just nodded. “I’ll be crossing everything I have then.”

He went off with the rest of his team as you stayed back to watch the rest of the cars complete the qualifying. The air was starting to get tense again, and even though you knew everyone was nervous with Lando’s result, you weren’t sure if it was just your own feelings talking. But like Lando said, you were going to have to wait and see what the team could come up with, you were just hoping they would do the right thing.

Race day was finally here, and with Lewis starting from the pit lane due to a new power unit and Pierre being excluded due to fuel flow rate, Lando had been promoted to P15. Sure, it would have been better if Lando had the chance to fight for his starting position, but at least that was something. 

You could see he was still not completely confident in how the race would go, but you trusted enough for the both of you. 

Watching the race from the garage was something that always made you incredibly nervous, but especially in this position. But Lando managed to get to P12 by lap 2, and everyone was incredibly excited by his overtakes. 

As the race went on and he felt more confident with the car, he started to climb his way up to the top 10, trusting the team’s decisions with the strategy they were sticking to, and you were so glad everything was falling in place. 

The rest of the race still made you bite your nails at how nervous you were, but the bliss in the entire garage when he overtook someone was indescribable. He was driving the race of his life, and even the radios he exchanged with the team radiated that. As always, the last few laps were nervewracking, but the fact that he made it all the way to P6 and was even helping Oscar with his own race left everyone with a good taste. Not a complete terrible weekend after all. 

During the last lap, however, an unfortunate crash between Carlos and Checo pushed him to P4, meaning he gained 11 positions during the race; not that you ever doubted him, but seeing him end up there with the fastest lap after an absolute mess of the qualifying made you excited to see him. After confiming everyone was okay, you took the liberty to celebrate your boyfriend’s race.

Lando got out of the car and went to greet his team, cheers and smiles all over the place. Everyone was praising him for the incredible work he made, and his smile didn’t go away for a second the entire time. 

You knew you would still have to wait to congratulate him; he still had to do media before coming back to his room, where you were waiting for him, but seeing him so happy in the monitors made you grow impatient. 

It felt like it had been a while since you saw him so happy after a race.

After what felt like forever, you heard him come back to the garage. You stoop up from the small couch and opened the door, where you were greeded by your boyfriend. 

“Hey, you.” You said, closing the door behind him.

“Hi,” he replied, smile so big you could see his dimples.

“That was amazing, Lando. I knew you would do amazing, but I can’t even describe how proud I am.” 

He smiled even more at your words. He closed the distance between you when he took a few steps, wrapping you in his arms and kissing you deeply. You could even feel him smiling then, and that filled your heart.

“Thank you; it was a good day,” he said when he pulled away, looking down at you with loving eyes. “I think everything worked out.” You just nodded as you admired him.

“I missed you,” you whispered as you brushed a few curls that fell on his forehead.

“What do you mean? We’ve been together the last three weeks. You saw me just before the race." To say he was confused was an understatement, and you could see it in his face.

“I mean you, this. I missed seeing you so happy and smiley. Looks good on you.”

Lando was a bit embarrassed by your confession; he thought he did a better job at hiding how much the results affected him, at least to you. It was never his intention to be so down when he was with you, but man, was he endeared by your words. “I needed this,” was all he said, and you know he was right. And it wasn’t only him; you knew the team needed this as well.

“I know, and I know you hate to hear it, but I told you.”

He let out a laugh, not a nervous one this time. “Yes, you did,” he hugged you again, much tighter as he buried his face on the crook of your neck. “Thank you for being here and supporting me, even during my bad times.” He spoke with so much sincerity. 

“I wouldn’t change it for the world.”

[dreamescapeswriting]

Cry Baby ~ JJK

WORD COUNT: 2.1k

GENRE: established relationships, cry baby reader, angst to comfort, jungkook being soft for her, apologising, begging jungkook,

⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - September 2024

⤜MASTERLIST

The apartment felt as though it was stifling tonight, the air thick with frustration and you could barely feel like you could breathe as you stood there. You were standing by the kitchen counter, arms crossed tightly over your chest, watching as Jungkook paced back and forth across the living room. The two of you had started spatting with one another and it started as something small—a forgotten phone call.

He said he’d call, and he didn’t. But somehow, it had spiralled out of control, and now you’re both standing on opposite sides of the room, trying to make sense of the mess between you.

It wasn't like you were the couple to argue with each other all the time but this was something important to you. A simple phone call to let you know he was still alive after he went out on a dangerous fucking mission with his friends.

“It’s not just about the phone call, Jungkook!” you say, your voice shaking despite your best efforts to stay calm. Jungkook didn't scare you, hell, his bodyguards didn't scare you. But he worried you when he went out and never said anything, or came home late covered in blood.

“It’s about you not being here… even when you are here. I feel like I’m alone all the time. You’re always busy with work, or with the guys, or something else, and I just… I just miss you.” Your voice cracked a little as you admitted it out loud for the first time. You didn't want to come across as clingy or anything but you needed your feelings to be heard on this.

Jungkook stopped pacing, turning to look at you as he looked you up and down. There’s a flicker of frustration in his eyes, his jaw clenched as he struggles to find the right words.

“I’m doing the best I can, Y/N! I can’t just drop everything whenever you feel lonely, or need a cuddle.” The words cut through you like a hot knife through butter and it hurt but you try to hold yourself together. You didn't want to cry in front of him and give him another reason to be pissed off at you,

“I’m not asking you to drop everything. I’m asking you to see me. To make me feel like I matter to you.” Your eyes are stinging now, and you hate it. You hate that you’re on the verge of crying again because you know what’s coming. You cried a lot...A lot, a lot but you couldn't help it. You'd always been a big crier and you'd grown up being told never to hold them back.

“Why do you always have to cry about everything?” he says, his voice sharp, frustration clear in his tone.

“You’re such a crybaby, Y/N.” The words hit you like a slap to the face. You freeze, blinking back the tears that you desperately don’t want to let fall, but it’s too late. Your vision blurs as they spill over, and you quickly wipe them away, trying to keep your dignity intact. You could feel your throat forming that all too familiar lump inside of it before you whimpered a little and wiped your face.

You don’t say anything. You can’t, if you did you knew the tears would never stop so you took in a deep breath and shook your head, as if trying to shake the tears out of your system. Your chest felt tight, and all you wanted to do was get out of there. Before Jungkook can say anything more, you turn on your heel and head for the door,

“Y/N, wait—” you hear him call after you, but you don’t stop. You can’t. You keep walking, slamming the door behind you as you walk away from him. Your heart pounded inside of your chest as you walked away from Jungkook, ignoring the guard who banged on your car window to let him inside. There was no way you were going to let one of his men join you and report back to him on your every move.

The tears fall freely now, and you don’t even bother wiping them away. You just drove -away from the apartment, away from the hurt, away from Jungkook.

It had been hours since you left, and you’d found yourself at one of your favourite spots by the riverbank, sitting on a cold bench with your arms wrapped around yourself. It had been far too long since you'd had the chance to do something like this, always stopping yourself because of Jungkook claiming it was "dangerous" or you had a target on you now that you were dating him. But right now? You didn't care. The cold air and the calming aura were all you needed to make you feel better.

The night air is cool, and you shiver slightly, but you welcome the chill once you let relax your entire body and dry the tears from your cheeks.

You'd been ignoring all of Jungkook’s calls, eventually turning your phone off and leaving it in the car. You just… you needed space. You needed time to process what he said—what he called you.

A crybaby.

The word had been echoing in your mind, over and over again on the drive. You know you’re emotional, but that’s part of who you are, you thought Jungkook loved you for who you were. You had always felt things deeply, and it’s always been hard for you to hide that. And now, the person you love most in the world threw it back in your face like it was something to be ashamed of.

You were so lost in thought you hadn't even heard his car parking up before he approached you until he was standing in front of you, kneeling down on the grass to look up at you. His face is shadowed in the dim light, but you can still see the worry in his eyes.

“Y/N,” he says softly, his voice almost a whisper. You glance at him briefly before looking away, not ready to face him yet. Your heart feels too heavy, too raw. You could already feel the tears burning again and your throat starting to lump up. He shifts closer to you, his voice cracking slightly as he speaks again.

“Please… look at me,” he begged, his voice cracking as he spoke. He'd spent the last few hours trying to find you, refusing to let you go.

Reluctantly, you meet his gaze. His expression is full of regret, and the sight of him looking so broken tugs at something inside you, but you shove it down. Not yet. You’re not ready to let him off the hook that easily.

“Why are you here, Jungkook?” you whispered, your voice sounding more detached than you felt. You weren't about to let him get away with what he did, you wanted him to feel like shit, so he could feel how you felt right now.

“Shouldn’t you be busy with your schedule? Or with the guys? You made it pretty clear that my feelings are just… too much for you.” You snapped a little harsher than you had wanted. The guilt on his face spread and he reached out for your hand, but you pulled it back from him. The mere act had him flinching at the rejection, it wasn't like you to reject any of his touches. For a moment, you almost feel bad, but then you remember the sting of his words, and the walls around your heart harden again.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N,” he says, his voice thick with emotion, dropping down onto the wet grass not caring about if his suit got ruined.

“I didn’t mean what I said earlier. I was frustrated, and overwhelmed, and I took it out on you. But that doesn’t make it okay. I know I hurt you… and I’m so, so sorry.” He stared at you, waiting for you to say something, anything but you didn't. You sit in silence, staring out at the water as it flows steadily in front of you. Part of you wants to forgive him right away, to ease the ache in your chest. But the other part of you—the part that’s still hurting—holds back. You’re afraid that if you let him in too soon, it’ll happen again. And next time, it might hurt even more.

"Say something...A-Anything, baby, scream at me, yell at me...hit me, anything, please." He begged as he looked at you.

“I hate when you do that,” you say softly, your voice barely audible over the sound of the water.

“I hate when you make me feel like I’m too much. Like my feelings are a burden to you.” You finally whisper as you look over at him. His eyes were already on you. Jungkook’s breath hitches, and you can see the tears gathering in his eyes. He looks so vulnerable in this moment, and it almost breaks you but you don't let it. You weren't going to let this go so easily.

“You’re not a burden, Y/N. Never,” he says, his voice trembling. It wasn't like Jungkook to show this kind of vulnerability with anybody, you were the only person he allowed himself to break down in front of. Ever.

“I swear, you’re the most important person in my life. I just… sometimes I get so caught up in everything else that I forget to show you how much you mean to me. But you do mean everything to me. I’m nothing without you.” His words hang in the air between you, and for the first time tonight, you see just how much he’s hurting, too. He’s not perfect, neither are you.

“I’m not ready to just… forget what happened,” you admit quietly, looking down at your hands. Swallowing the lump that was forming in your throat,

“You really hurt me, Jungkook.”

“I know,” he says softly, inching closer his shoulders touching yours now but you didn't move away, you let him be close.

“And I don’t expect you to just forget. But I promise you, I’ll do better. I’ll be better for you. I’ll make it up to you every day if I have to. Just… please don’t shut me out. Let me take you home, let me make this better.” He pleaded with you, his hand itching to touch you but he kept himself at bay.

You finally look up at him, searching his face for any sign of insincerity, but all you see is the man you fell in love with. The one who would do anything to make things right.

The man who hadn't stopped begging you for a date, showing up every single day to your workplace until you finally agreed to a date. The same man that on your anniversary books out your favourite hotel so the two of you can be alone. So you can wander around lost in a hotel for hours - sometimes days - at a time. The man who had stopped at nothing to make you smile when you'd broken your arm last year in a ski accident.

And despite the hurt you felt, despite the anger, you believed him.

“Do you really mean that?” you ask, your voice softer than it had been earlier.

“Every single fucking word, princess,” he whispers, reaching for your hand again. This time, you let him take it, and the warmth of his touch soothes the dull ache in your chest. His thumb gently strokes your knuckles, and you feel a tiny flicker of hope start to grow inside you.

You let out a shaky breath, nodding slowly.

“Okay,” you say quietly.

“But you better mean it, Jeon Jungkook, or I'm not coming back next time.” You warn him. He lets out a soft laugh, even as his eyes glisten with tears. He leans forward, pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles, his breath warm against your skin.

“I do,” he promises, his voice full of love and sincerity. “I swear...Let me drive you home," He stands up, reaching out for your hand once again and helping you up to your feet.

"What about my car-" You stopped as you turned around to see it was already missing from where you had parked it, turning back to Jungkook you saw him smiling at you sheepishly.

"You were that sure I'd forgive you?" You didn't know whether to be mad or not at him for this but he shook his head,

"I was taking away your choice, either I drove you or we walked together," He smirks before you kiss him softly, his smirk slowly turning to a smile as he pulls you into a tight embrace.

@chiisaiblog@sw33tnight@kaitieskidmore97@laylasbunbunny@tinyoonsblog@whitefoxgirl@katnisspeetaprim@acciocriativity@choisoorin@heyjiminnie@btsiguess-kpop@halesandy@gothic4under4lord@soulphoenix1618@aerastus@jin-from-the-block@lenfilms@elizaschuyler18@piratequeen-impact @Namgiswifey@delulu18@xyahrinx@katsukis1wife@anthropologymajorkpopmultistan@blairscott@4-chan-inpadella@swga-ficrecs@niktwazny303@armystay89@myyouthdonut@xakx@kittymaryam-thebrowniefairy@kpopmenace143@loveforred@b1nn1e-1s-cut3@elissasimp @royallyjjk @parkjennykim @piercedddriver

[verstappen-cult]

JEALOUS BOYS | F1 GRID

★ — LANDO NORRIS (4)

lando wants to scream and tell you to shut up, but he will never do that, never. it doesn’t matter how much he wants you to stop talking about the guy you’re currently seeing and how amazing he is. he knows he lost his chance because he wasn’t brave enough to confess his feelings when you told him how you felt. he didn’t tell you that he didn’t feel the same but he didn’t tell you he shared your feelings either, so it’s normal that you’d move on. but it’s getting to the point where he thinks you’re doing it on purpose. lando always answers with ‘yes, no, uhu, mmh’ when you talk about the guy, so it’s impossible you don’t know he doesn’t care.

★ — CHARLES LECLERC (16)

if looks could kill, your friend would be buried ten meters underground. you’d told him there is nothing to be worried about and he trusts you, god he trusts you so much. but he doesn’t trust your friend, not even one bit. you’re quick to notice his annoyance, excusing yourself with your friend and taking his hand to go to a more secluded corner where you ask him what’s going on. and charles can’t lie to you, his mouth moving before his brain can catch up: “i don’t like the way he looked at you” but you can’t get angry, not when he looks so hurt and insecure.

★ — OSCAR PIASTRI (81)

when oscar feels jealous, he doesn’t say anything. he waits until you’re home, alone and comfortable to bring up the topic. he tries to deflect and say that everything is okay when you can clearly see that is not. you’re very understanding which gives him the courage to say everything, and you are grateful for it. you hug tightly whispering in his ear how much you love him, that he’s the one for you. oscar is happy to have such a healthy relationship where he can be vulnerable and don’t feel judged.

★ — MAX VERSTAPPEN (33/1)

max wants to punch the guy, he really wants to make him suffer. why does he has to touch your arm to speak to you? does he not know about personal space? he wants to walk to the bar and drag you out of there, but he has no claim over you. you’re not dating, you’re not even hooking up or something; you’re friends, just friends. and max has never hated a word so much before. you eventually walk back to him with the drinks you went to collect in the first place before that asshole got your attention. and if by the end of the night max confesses his love for you because he’s a little bit drunk, you don’t need to tell anyone else about it. or anything about the many kisses you shared.

★ — ALEX ALBON (23)

alex jokes about being jealous but you know there is truth behind his words. and he doesn’t really know he is jealous until you point it out. “i don’t know what is happening to me but they annoy me so much.” and you laugh, not to make fun but because you’ve never seen someone look so cute while jealous. alex ends up forgetting all about his jealousy the moment he feels your lips. then, he can only think about you.

★ — DANIEL RICCIARDO (3)

daniel just ignores you when he’s jealous which, you know, hurts. you don’t push him, you wait and wait until he feels better and seeks for you. he says sorry but he felt insecure and doesn’t like to feel that way. you’re allowed to have friends but not friends that act as if he doesn’t exists and he just doesn’t want to share. he looks like a little kid who didn’t get what he wanted on christmas day. you stay angry at him just for a little longer.

★ — MICK SCHUMACHER (47)

it’s no secret that you’ve been dancing around each other for some time now, neither of you willing to take the first step and admit your feelings. that is until he sees you laughing with some stranger at a party. he’s a little tipsy and doesn’t mind being a bit rude when approaching you both, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. "what was so funny? why were you two laughing?" the guy gets lost no long after that, which makes him feel very proud until you’re screaming at him and he doesn’t know what to do but kiss you to shut you up. finally.

© VERSTAPPEN-CULT ⎯ do not repost, translate, plagiarise or claim any of my works as your own.

[twirlyleafs]

”Start of the season-drama”

Max Verstappen x reader

TW: angst, assumed cheating

~~~~

“I wish you could come with me.” You looked over at your boyfriend next to you by the kitchen counter. He didn’t meet your gaze, face contoured in concentration as he formed the ground beef into patties.

“I know baby.” You agreed, reaching for a bowl to put the cut cucumber in. Max grabbed it for you.

“Are you sure you can’t come with? Bahrain is nice.” He softly bumped his arm against yours, offering a playful smile. You chuckled, shaking your head.

“I would love to, you know that. But I have my thesis to write.”

“You can do that on the road.” He tried, but you both knew the answer. This conversation had been on repeat for the last few months and every time it ended with Max, somewhat disappointed, agreeing that it would be best if you stayed home. You weren’t surprised he tried one last time tonight.

“Even if I could Maxie, I still have to work and I can’t do that from Bahrain.” Even before he spoke up you knew what his next argument would be and if anything got under your skin, it was this.

“You don’t need to work though. You have me.” The way he said it so casually, like he always did, had your stomach twisting. You hated that he saw it like that, and no matter how many times you talked about it Max didn’t seem to understand your point of view. You clenched your jaw, physically biting your tongue not to say anything back. Instead you concentrated back on the work on the cutting board, brows slightly furrowed. Things were quiet for a few moments, Max being busy with the meat in the frying pan, and you had almost blocked him out completely, deep in your own thoughts, when you felt two strong arms wrap around your waist. Your back was softly pulled flush against his chest and a second later he nudged the side of your head with his nose.

“I’m sorry.” He mumbled, pressing a few kisses against your cheek and down your shoulder. “Of course you have things to do here, I get that. I’m just going to miss you, that’s all.” You couldn’t help but smile, the frown melting of your face in a second. How could you ever stay annoyed at him when he was this cuddly and cute? You placed the knife down, turning around in his rather tight grip to face him. Max looked down at you, tilting his head slightly as to ask if he was forgiven. You just reached up to grab his cheeks, bringing his face down to yours for a kiss. You felt him smile against your lips.

“I’m going to miss you too.” You said when the two of you finally pulled apart. “But it’s just two weeks, right?”

“Hmm.” Max nodded, fingers pressing into the skin just above your hips. “Then I’ll come straight back home and I won’t leave your side for at least a few days.” You laughed at that, snaking your arms around his torso and leaning your head against his chest. Max pulled you even closer, a deep breath leaving his lips. You were going to miss him, but two weeks went fast and you told yourself that he’d be back, preferably with two wins under his belt, before you knew it.

~

The first race had been amazing. You had watched from home with some of your friends, absolutely ecstatic and somewhat tipsy as your boyfriend passed the finish line in first place what felt like hours ahead of the rest. When he called you after the win you had literally screamed into the phone how proud you were of him and hearing him laugh loudly on the other end had you smiling the whole night.

That was four days ago. You had been busy, work was more chaotic than normal and your limited freetime was spent in the library working on your thesis. Unfortunately, this also meant that you had missed a few of Maxs phone calls and when you’d called him back he had been busy instead. You texted a lot, but it had been a few days since you last heard his voice and you were starting to miss it.

Getting back late from the library, not at all happy with the work you had done, all you wanted to do was to call Max and have him tell you about his day. You knew he had been at the annual banquet in Jeddah last night, which he hated, and you were excited to hear all the gossip. You sunk down in the couch, making yourself comfortable as you searched up the results of the first practice round. You always wanted to know how things were going for Max before you spoke to him, partly to show him that you cared and partly because you wanted to know what mood he might be in. You smiled to yourself, pleased, when you saw him at the top of the rankings. Absentminded you begun to scroll down among the tweets, rolling your eyes at the people hating on Max and grinning proudly at all the people joking about how this season would just be win after win after win for him. Suddenly you stopped, a tweet written all in caps catching your eye.

MAX VERSTAPPEN LOOKING DAPPER WITH MYSTERIOUS BLONDE! DID HE LEAVE HIS GIRLFRIEND AT HOME?

You raised your eyebrows, not being able to stop yourself from clicking on the photos. Surely it was going to be something dumb, you were used to the rumors surrounding your boyfriend and you had simply learned to just tune them out. Scrolling through the pictures now, however, you could feel your stomach drop. It was blurry, but it was clearly Max. The photos were taken from far away but you saw him, dressed handsomely in a suit and bowtie, with his arms tightly wrapped around a tall blonde. Her back was turned against the camera so you couldn’t make out her face, but you didn’t recognize the body at all. The two of them seemed to be alone, standing outside what looked like the building where the banquet was held. In one picture Max was shown grabbing her cheeks, staring down at her. You squinted, as if that would help you distinguish his expression, but you couldn’t quite tell what was happening. You couldn’t deny that it sure looked like he was about to kiss her. Quickly locking your phone you dropped it in your lap, staring down at the black screen with wide eyes. That wasn’t just some rumor, something someone had claimed to see or made up. Those were real photos, photos of Max being way too close for comfort with someone who clearly wasn’t you. You knew you should calm down, take a step back until you could talk to him and let him explain. Surely there was an explanation that didn’t involve him actually cheating on you? Right? Before you had time to spiral further your phone lit up again, the picture of Max sleeping, drooling, in a cab you had as his contact photo illuminating your screen. Acting on reflex you picked it up, sliding your finger across the screen.

“Hello?”

“Baby!” He seemed surprised that you answered but quickly regained himself. “Am I disturbing you? Are you at home?”

“I just got home.” You answered, frowning at the shortness of your own tone. You weren’t sure how to approach him, you weren’t even sure what to say. Were you mad? Sad?

“Good. Feels like we’ve just missed each other the past few days.” Max shuffled around on the other end and you assumed he was laying in bed. With a content sigh he spoke again and you could hear the smile on his face. “How are you my love?”

“I’m good.” You mumbled, clicking on the speaker icon and placing your phone down in your lap.

“How’s the thesis coming along? I assume you just came from the library?”

“Hmm, yeah I did. It’s fine.” Max obviously picked something up in your voice because he was quiet for a few seconds before speaking up again.

“I hope you’re not spreading yourself too thin baby, you have to take a break sometimes.” His voice was full of concern and you don’t know if it was that or the pictures still haunting you but suddenly all you wanted was to be next to him. “Have you eaten today?”

“Actually,” you began, deciding what to say as the words were coming out of your mouth. “I was thinking about maybe coming to you? I think I can make it to the race if I leave tomorrow and-“ you stopped as you heard Max laugh on the other end, stomach twisting at the sound you usually loved. That was not the reaction you wanted.

“You know I miss you but that’s crazy baby.” He chuckled. You could feel the pressure take form behind your eyes. “You have things to do and I’ll be home in less than a week.”

“Yeah but I want to see you now. I thought you’d want that too.” You hated that his reaction, a very reasonable reaction at that, left you feeling so hurt.

“Of course I want to see you, but you shouldn’t come all the way here when we both know-“

“I shouldn’t?” His choice of words felt like a punch in the stomach and you frowned down at the phone. Max took a second too long to respond so you spoke again. “Why shouldn’t I? You don’t want me there?”

“What’s all this coming from?” The smile was far gone from his voice and now he just sounded bewildered. “You’re the one who opted to stay home because you had work to do.”

“Yeah well that was before I knew you’d cozy up with some other girl if I’m not there.”

You pressed your eyes shut, cringing at your own words the second they left your lips. You did not mean to put that out there like that. The line went quiet for a moment before Max broke the silence, voice as confused as it gets.

“What?”

You wanted to cry. “Nothing.”

“No, what did you say?”

“Nothing Max. Don’t worry about it.” You snapped, hating yourself more every time you opened your mouth. You really needed this conversation to be over, preferably before you started to cry. “I’m actually really tired, I think I’m-“

“No no no, you don’t just get to throw something like that at me and then hang up. What did you mean by that?”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry.” You were rambling. “Just forget it. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” You heard Max say your name before you hung up, heart feeling like it was beating out of your chest.

[intoxicated-chan]

Only You, Darling

✿ฺ Paring ➳❥ Miguel O’Hara x F!Reader

✿ฺ Summary ➳❥ Miguel begins to worry about his unborn child, considering his spider DNA and history of losing people, he worries if things are only meant for the worst.

✿ฺ (A/n) ➳❥ Inspired by “Dark Red” by Steve Lacy. When I tell you about the grip Miguel has on me! I love this man.

✿ฺ Word Count ➳❥ 982

✿ฺ Content Warnings ➳❥ Female reader, pregnancy, light angst, established relationship, mentions of cheating, mentions of intercourse, swearing, little paranoia, very fluffy…

You stared at the positive test. You remained still before looking back at the other five positive tests. Your breathing became ragged as you knew Miguel would be home in a few hours.

You still had some time left, hide the evidence and find a way to explain it to Miguel. He thought that it was almost impossible to get you pregnant, which is why you hoped it wouldn’t make him think of the worst. You wouldn’t blame him if he did.

You begin cleaning up the torn boxes and used tests, throwing them in the small garbage bin without a second thought. You shouldn’t be worried about this now, you should be worried if Miguel was going to make it home on time or late, again.

But all the silence scared you to death as there was no way to calm you. Nothing would stop you from pacing around the living room. What felt like minutes were hours, and when your head snapped in the direction of a thud coming from your shared room. You cursed to yourself, knowing only one person to take the window instead of the front door.

“(Y/n)!” You heard him call out.

You choke on your words for a few seconds before finally being able to speak, “...I’m in the living room!”

You could practically hear him let out a sigh of relief as you heard his footsteps from your room and to the living room, seeing him still in his costume, “I thought you went out for a run again.”

“Well, I do know how much you hate them.”

“Because you take them during the night, I’ve told you how dangerous it is.” He comes to you, placing a quick kiss on your lips before pulling back, “I’m going to get washed up.” He walks to the bathroom but stops and looks over his shoulder, “Care to join me?”

“Well I-”

“That’s fine.” Miguel tells you, “But I could use someone to wash my back.”

“Miguel-”

And he sped to the bathroom, tired but… Shit! You never took out the trash!

“Miguel!” You call out again but no answer. You were too late, he’s already in the bathroom. You still had time, all you needed to was not freeze in place and open the damn door! But you can’t. You didn’t have the right to keep this information from Miguel, he deserves to know.

While you left him in the bathroom, you sat on your shared bed, waiting for him…

It’s been a half-hour. No sound of the shower turning on or anything from the bathroom. But your heart drops, hearing the door open and Miguel comes to the room, test in hand as his eyes tell his whole expression.

“I-”

“I know you didn’t cheat on me.” He whispers, setting the test on the dresser, “But how long have you known for?”

“Just this morning, a few hours after you left for work.” You answer.

“Just this morning?”

“Just this morning.” You repeat, looking into his eyes.

Miguel takes a deep breath, “Okay, okay.” But then he grabs a duffle bag from your closet and sets it on the bed, he pulls open your drawer and starts filing the bag up, “You can’t stay here.” He answers before you say anything.

“Listen to me, Miguel.”

“It’s not safe for you here.”

“Miguel-”

“I’m a danger and you know it.”

“Miguel!” You grab his wrist, “Stop. You know damn well I trust you with my life. You may think that’s the worst thing I ever said but I mean it. I know you have the strength to protect me, I love you Miguel and I promised to stand by you no matter what happens. So please, don’t push me away.”

“It’s not that I’m a danger to you, I don’t deserve you.”

“You deserve everything, Miguel. And I’m hoping that you will let me give it all to you.” Feeling his arms wrap around you, holding you tightly as if it was his last day.

The next couple of weeks were filled with doctor visits and holded up at home. It’s not like you didn’t stay home before, it’s just Miguel wanted to be sure you were in a safe location and that it would be your shared home.

“Did you take-?”

“My prenatals?” You finish his question, placing a kiss on his forehead, “Yes I did.” You kissed him again, “You don’t gotta worry about me, Miguel. With the doctor visits and the pills, I’m doing just fine.”

“I know.” Miguel sat on the couch while you sat on his lap, you felt his hands come to your stomach, “Does the doctor know when you would start showing?”

“In a couple more weeks but it’s different for everyone.” You tell him, feeling him nuzzle into your neck. You feel his hands rub your stomach, “Are you okay, Miguel?”

He hums, nodding into your shoulder, “It’s just… What if I’m a horrible father?”

“Don’t you dare say that!” You get up, turn your body to face him and sit back down, “I know you’ll be a wonderful father, Miguel. No matter what anyone says. And I know that this child will love you.”

He looks at you and slowly, a smile forms, “This is what I’m talking about.” He lays his head on your chest.

“What do you mean?” You ask. Then you look at his ears, the tip of them being red, “Miguel?”

“I think we should have more kids.”

Your hands come to his hair, “You don’t have to ask me twice.”

He suddenly grabs your shoulders tightly and he snaps his head up, “Seriously?!”

You burst out laughing, “Of course!” You speak in between laughter, “I want nothing more than to start a family with you.” You calm down.

“What did I ever do to deserve you?”

“You’ll always have me.”

© 2033 Intoxicated-Chan, I do not allow my work to be copied, translated, modified, adapted, or put on any other platform without permission.

[hungermakesmonsters]

The Red Ribbon

Chapter One

Plot Summary : By day you’re Billy Russo’s clumsy PA, but by night you’re a host at New York City’s most exclusive gentlemen's club. At The Red Ribbon everyone is anonymous and masks conceal the identities of patrons and hosts alike. But your two lives are about to collide and Billy Russo is about to see a whole new side of you without even realising it..

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R 

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] Smutty behaviour. All chapters will deal with smutty themes and include mentions/suggestions of sex work/work at a gentlemen's club (don't like, don't read). Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story. 

Word Count : 6k

A/N : This is a little something I've been toying with for a while. It's only going to be a short thing (3 parts) over the next few weeks. There's no upload schedule but it'll probably be posting on Fridays anyway 😅 Also I've been ill all week so that's my excuse for typos

Master List

Chapter One

“Remind me why I hired you?”

His voice was a cold snap that caused your cheeks to burn with embarrassment. Even on his birthday, your boss was an asshole.

Your hands trembled as you tried to restack the files that you’d clumsily manage to drop all over his office floor. The contents of the files had spilled out and you already knew that it was going to take you hours to make sure the correct paperwork ended up back where it was supposed to be.

“It wasn’t a rhetorical question,” he added a moment later. “Why did I hire you?”

“Because your other assistants keep quitting,” you muttered under your breath.

It was humiliating, scrabbling around on his office floor, the carpet scrapping your bare knees as you tried to pick everything up as quickly as possible.

“What was that?” He asked.

It was reasonable to guess that he hadn’t heard you - you were certain he would have been a lot angrier if he’d heard you. Still, you hated yourself for letting it slip out. As much as you hated the way your boss treated you, the pay was good. Too good to quit.

“I said I’m sorry Mr Russo,” you answered softly, managing to grab the last of the files and get back to your feet. “I’ll get these sorted and have them on your desk first thing in the morning.”

“I hope you’re planning on staying late.”

“What?” The word spilled from your lips before you had the chance to stop it.

“Do you have somewhere else to be? Something more important than fixing your fuck up and doing the job I pay you to do?” Mr Russo asked.

As a matter of fact, you did have somewhere else to be and something that was more important than fixing the potential Anvil candidate files that you’d managed to dump all over his office floor, but you couldn’t tell him that.  

There was only one person who knew how you spent your nights, and it certainly wasn’t your boss. No, if Billy Russo knew where you went after your days at Anvil, he’d see to it that he had your resignation in his hand by the end of the day. And you were sure the same could be said of your night job.

“No, Mr Russo,” you answered, dropping your gaze to the floor, “I don’t have anywhere more important to be.”

“Good answer,” he said as he grabbed his suit jacket from the back of his chair and pulled it on. He moved towards his office door, stepping past you as if you were just another piece of furniture, a spare chair in the way. “And don’t even think about leaving that unfinished. I’ll be in at 5am so you’re not going to have the opportunity to sneak in early tomorrow to finish up.”

He didn’t even wait for a half-hearted ‘yes, Mr Russo’ before leaving for the day.

You glanced at your watch, doing the maths in your head; you should have been finishing in ten minutes time, at five o’clock, which would have given you three hours to get home, eat, and then get across town to work your night job.

The Red Ribbon was New York's most exclusive gentlemen's club - though to call it a gentlemen’s club was somewhat outdated as, these days, it catered to the needs and desires of wealthy clientele regardless of gender identity and sexual orientation. But, it had been considered a gentlemen’s club since the 1950s, and the verbiage was surprisingly hard to shake. 

The club offered something that few similar establishments did; total anonymity for both guests and workers. There were no cameras in The Red Ribbon, no phones or recording devices were allowed. And everyone wore masks. The only way to tell the staff from the clientele were the red ribbons worn about their necks.

You’d been working at The Red Ribbon for the last six months. At the start you’d tended bar, not wanting to get too hands-on with the customers - not because you had any strong feelings or moral objections about those that did, but mostly because you didn’t think you’d be any good at it. You’d never been the sort to consider yourself graceful, much less sexy, but you could make a mean espresso martini and you were great with pointless smalltalk. 

The money was good, but it wasn’t good enough, not when you had debts and financial obligations. 

At The Red Ribbon, the hosts made the most money, each getting assigned to one of the private rooms and being tasked with taking care of the customers' needs for the whole night. It was ultimately up to the host what taking care of the customer entailed though boundaries were firmly established before the host set foot in the private room. Every host had their own limits, some were happy to touch and be touched, some took it further still, and others preferred a hands-off approach.

If there was one thing The Red Ribbon was known for beyond the total anonymity it offered, it was the level of security. Everyone who set foot through the doors knew better than to cause trouble or push the boundaries of any member of staff.

You’d made the switch from bartender to host slowly, filling in whenever someone was out sick or when you needed a little extra money. You were slow to warm to it but, to your surprise, you found that you actually enjoyed it. Though you stayed firmly in the no touching or being touched camp, the tips you made in one night were still more than you made over a whole week tending bar.

But, when that money still wasn’t enough to cover your debts, you took a day job.

And that was how you’d ended up spending an evening hunched over a desk at Anvil, trying desperately to match paperwork with the correct file for a boss who’d made it pretty clear that he didn't like you and thought you were too inept for your job.

By the time you were done, you barely had the chance to make it home and shower and, instead of eating a proper meal, you ate a Snickers bar on the subway.

The Red Ribbon had a special entrance for staff that used old prohibition tunnels and a hidden elevator to get you into the building and up to the top floor. 

New York was stunning from fifty floors up and, some nights, you’d find yourself in the locker room just staring out at the skyline as you changed into your uniform. But tonight you didn’t have the luxury of time.

You stood in front of the schedule, checking which room you were in and which mask you’d be wearing. While bar staff and servers all wore the same elegant black and red masks  to obscure their faces, hosts wore individual masks that corresponded with the room they’d be working. Tonight you were in the rabbit room, so you plucked the ornate rabbit mask from its hook on the wall.

Of all the masks, the rabbit had always been your favourite because of the detailing on the ears and the way it just sat right on your face.

You always got such a rush from pulling a mask on and heading out into the club. Under any other circumstance the thought of walking around in a revealing black bodysuit would have been embarrassing, but once you had your mask on, you felt almost powerful, like a superhero with a secret identity. With the mask, you weren’t you, you were whatever part you were playing and tonight you were Bunny, and Bunny could be whoever you wanted her to be.

The last part of your uniform was the red ribbon that you tied around your neck, the very thing that distinguished staff from customers, and gave the club its name.

You gave yourself one last look in the floor to ceiling mirror, making sure that you looked ready to handle whatever the night had to throw at you, before finally stepping out into the main area of the club.

Once you passed the threshold, everything about you changed; you held your head high and walked through the club like you owned the place. Here you weren’t the quiet little PA who had to keep her mouth shut in case her boss decided to fire her. Here you called the shots.

The spring in your step became even more noticeable as you climbed the stairs and headed onto the walkway that led to the private rooms, each situated above the dancefloor with views of the whole club. 

“Hey, lil Bunny,” an all too familiar face said.

You grinned from ear to ear at the sight of Rocky, one of the club's security guards, a man, who in any other circumstances would terrify you.  He was a huge behemoth of a man, truly deserving of the title Built Like a Brick Shit-House. To the patrons, he was the one they didn’t want to get on the bad side of, but to you and the rest of the staff, he was safety incarnate.

“Hey, Rocky,” you said, bumping fists with him as you came to a stop in front of him.

He’d taken something of a shine to you on your first night at The Red Ribbon - he later told you it was because you reminded him of his sister who’d died only a few years before. Since then he’d always kept a close eye on you.

After bumping fists, you kept your arm outstretched so he could fit your security bracelet for the night; a very ornate looking panic button that you could use discreetly if you needed Rocky to deal with a problem customer. 

“You let me know if you need anything,” he said softly but seriously.

And, with that, you were on your way again, slipping into the rabbit room with a few minutes to spare before your guest arrived. You did a quick sweep of the room, making sure everything was tidy before turning on the music and checking the bar and, finally, you lowered the lights.

Less than five minutes later, a group of men were shown into the room, each wearing plain black masks that covered the top half of their faces, and each dressed to the club's high standards. Though, just from looking at them you could tell that some were more comfortable in suits than others.

“Welcome to The Red Ribbon, I’m Bunny and I’ll be your host for the evening and I’ll be running the bar for you, so make yourselves comfortable and I’ll get you your first round,” you announced and, with a flourish of your hand, you waved them towards the sofas.

You took drink orders and made a point of saying a little personal hello to each of them, knowing that it’d help win you tips by the end of the night.

As far as groups went, they seemed decent enough, not exactly what you’d call reserved by any stretch, but they seemed to be happy to talk amongst themselves while you tended bar, not expecting anything more of you.

After about half an hour, one of them broke away from the group and headed towards the bar. You couldn’t help but watch him, taking in the perfect way that his suit fit his tall, slender frame. 

He took a seat on one of the stools at the bar and flashed you the sort of smile that you were sure had panties dropping all across the five boroughs on a regular basis.

“What can I get you?” You asked.

“Another scotch would be great.”

“Sure thing.”

You were acutely aware of the way his eyes followed your every movement as you  grabbed a bottle and fresh glass with ice. Your skin felt like it was tingling under his gaze - he wasn’t leering, it felt more like he was appreciating. 

“Haven’t seen you here before,” he said.

For a second you wondered if it was a line - it certainly sounded like a line - but there was something in the way he was looking at you, something that made you think he was actually being serious.

“What makes you say that?” You asked in your playful voice, deciding to indulge him.

“I’d remember seeing you.”

He wasn’t shy about drinking in the sight of you. At any other time you might have felt disgusted, but it was part of the job and you probably would have been more offended if he  wasn’t checking you out.

“Hmm, and what exactly is it you think you’d remember?” You retorted playfully.

He grinned at that, a laugh rumbling in his chest. And his eyes - fuck, his dark eyes almost seemed to twinkle.

“I’m not sure it’d be considered polite if I was to get... anatomical,” he joked.

“It’s my ass, isn’t it?” You offered offhandedly, breaking any tension or sense of shame.

His grin grew wider, though there was a hint of surprise on his face too, like he hadn’t quite expected you to be so forward.

“Now that you mention it, you do have a very nice ass,” he agreed, “in fact that whole thigh-ass area is perfection.”

You could feel warmth spreading across your cheeks and down your neck, and you were glad of the low lights and the mask on your face. While you were used to comments on your body and what men wanted to do with you while working, there was something different about this. This felt like flirting. Honest to god flirting. And it had been a long time since anyone had tried to flirt with you.

Out in the real world, his comment would have turned you into a shy mess, but behind the bunny mask... well, let’s just say that Bunny wanted to play.

“Oh, a thigh man as well?” 

“I’m a man of refined tastes,” he shrugged.

His grin had you wishing you could see the rest of his face. You were already trying to picture what he might look like behind the mask but you were certain that your imagination was not doing it justice.

“And what else does that taste extend to?” You asked, leaning across the bar a little more as you slid his drink towards him.

His fingers briefly covered yours - rougher than you’d expected - before you slowly pulled your hand away. For a split second, you felt your breath catch, and there was a flicker of something on his face that made you think he’d felt it too, that moment of electricity when you’d touched.

“Are we still talking anatomically? Because I’d be lying if I said I haven’t been thinking about your tits for the last five minutes.”

Again, it wasn’t the sort of comment you’d put up with in any other situation but, then and there, in a place where you held all the power, you liked hearing it. The fact that he’d been allowed into The Red Ribbon meant that he was someone, that he was rich and powerful, so for poor, boring you to be the object of his desires gave a thrill like no other.

You let slip another laugh, propping yourself against the bar with a hand beneath your chin, eyes fixed on Mr Tall, Dark and Playful.

“Only the last five minutes?” You said, almost sounding distraught.

“Oh, you’re trouble, Bunny,” he remarked, leaning towards you as he lifted his drink and took a slow sip.

“I get the feeling that you like trouble.”

“You have no idea...”

It would have been a lie to say that the temptation to carry on the flirtatious conversation wasn’t increasing with every passing second; it was fun, you were actually enjoying it rather than just being subjected to it. But he wasn’t the only person in the room who wanted your attention and you had a job to do. 

“Looks like your friends want some attention too,” you said, nodding your head towards the group of men still sitting at the table. One of them was waving you over, obviously in desperate need of another drink.

“Animals, the lot of them,” he said, almost fondly. “I should have known they had selfish reasons for bringing me here on my birthday.”

“It’s your birthday?” You asked and received a nod in response, before shaking your head and muttering; “another Sagittarius...”

“Another?” 

You looked at him, almost embarrassed that you’d let it slip out and that you’d blurred the line between your real life and Bunny.

“Just a guy I know,” you shrugged.

“He break your heart or something? Need me and the guys to pay him a visit?” He offered playfully.

Another laugh escaped you and you couldn’t help but think about how strange it felt to be able to genuinely laugh with one of the customers. After months of perfecting your customer service laugh, you’d never expected to find yourself actually laughing at some off-handed comment. Especially when the comment was about a stranger going to beat the shit out of your boss for being mean to you.

“No, it’s okay. I can handle myself.”

“I’ll bet you can, Bunny.”

“Well,” you said, definitively, changing the subject and taking your thoughts away from your terrible day-boss, “happy birthday. I think you deserve something fancy to drink.”

He grinned as you turned away to fish a bottle of champagne from the wine fridge and grab enough glasses for him and his friends.

“This place is really somethin’ else,” a second voice said. “I know you said the girls were pretty but... holy shit.”

Tall, Dark and Playful gave a laugh.

“Prettiest girls in New York are all right here,” he said, clapping his friend on the back.

“Careful boys, my ears are burning,” you joked as you turned back to them.

“It's a beautiful woman's fate to be the subject of conversation wherever she goes,” he said.

“Didn't expect to hear anyone quoting Dorian Gray tonight,” you answered back, amused.

He looked almost surprised by the comment, his jaw dropped slightly and his eyes grew a little wider.

“You’ve read Dorian Gray?” He asked. “You like to read?”

“Does that surprise you?” You asked, your mask hiding the way your eyebrow rose. “Do you not think girls like me can read the classics?”

“No, it’s not that, it’s -” he glanced at his friend beside him, then to the group sitting at the table. You couldn’t hear what they were saying but from some of the hand gestures being made, you could guess that it was something filthy, “- it’s just that I'm not used to being around people who can actually read.”

He got a rough punch in the arm from the guy beside him for that, and you started to laugh again. 

They continued to talk while you popped the champagne and started to fill glasses for the whole party. You placed one in front of the birthday boy, and one in front of his friend, before loading up a tray and taking the rest to the party at the table.

“Champagne to toast the birthday boy,” you said with a cheeky smile, earning a round of cheers from the men.

When you returned to the bar, Tall and Dark’s friend passed you, heading back to the group, leaving the birthday boy all alone.

“Not gonna drink with your friends?” You asked.

It was hard not to feel curious - it was part of the job, the masks, the hidden identities, there were always so many unanswered questions.

“I’ve never been one for birthdays,” he answered with a shrug, but still shot you a smile before lifting his champagne flute to his lips.

“Hmm so the mysterious, handsome stranger has a tragic backstory,” you said playfully.

“I don’t know if I’d call it tragic,” he said, his shoulder ticking upwards uncomfortably.

“Should I ask?”

Probably not, you thought. But some part of you wanted to know, wanted to prod and poke until you had him all figured out.

“My mother abandoned me a few hours after I was born,” he stated flatly.

Oh.

Shit.

You didn’t expect him to laugh when he looked at you again, his head shaking. “Don’t look so shocked, it was a long time ago and I’ve come a long way since then.”

“I just -” the confidence of Bunny slipped for a moment, leaving only you; the clumsy girl with a heart that often felt far too big, “- I’m sorry, I shouldn’t’ve joked...”

“It’s fine, really. I’ve had plenty of time to get over it. Besides, the way I figure it, she did me a favour. You want soft kids, coddle them and treat them well.”

“Wouldn't know anything about that,” you said with a wry smile. “My parents definitely didn't coddle us.”

“No?”

“Nope.”

“That all I'm getting?” He asked, smiling that playful smile again.

“Getting personal defeats the point of the masks, don't you think?” You retorted, leaning to top up his drink.

“I suppose,” he answered, pausing for a beat before continuing, “I guess you could tell me anything and I'd have to take your word for it.”

“You don't strike me as the sort of man who's trusting enough to do something like that.”

It was something you could see in his eyes, the way they took you in and watched every little flicker of emotion that crossed your face.

“Then why don't we play a game?” He offered. “We each get to ask a question, and you get to call the other out if you think they’re lying. And if I catch you in a lie, you have to tell me something true.”

Your eyes narrowed a little, trying to get a measure of him. Normally you were reasonably good at reading people - though maybe a lot of that came from working various PA and secretarial positions, needing to be able to anticipate your boss’ shitty moods.

“Okay, you’re on,” you agreed, “but a few ground rules; you’re not allowed to ask about who I am or anything that might identify me.”

“Sounds fair.” He lifted his champagne and took a slow drink but his eyes never left you. “What are you most afraid of?”

That caught you off guard. It was more serious than you’d anticipated.

“You could ask me almost anything, but that’s what you want to know?” 

“You can tell a lot about a person by what they’re scared of,” he said, shrugging.

You took a second to consider your answer.

“Jellyfish.”

“Really, Bunny, you’re gonna lie right outta the gate?” 

“Okay, fine,” you said with a huff, hating that he’d caught you out already. “I guess I’m most scared of dying alone, but jellyfish are a close second.”

“You think you’re gonna die alone?” He asked.

There was something in his voice that seemed to suggest he didn’t get it, or maybe it was that he thought it would never happen. Little did he know that you - the real you - didn’t exactly have the best luck with men.

“That’s two questions. Don’t I get a turn?” You asked, deciding to dodge his question.

Tall and Dark relented and gave a wave of his hand.

“What do you hate most about New York?” 

“Hate?” He repeated.

“Everyone always loves the same things about the city, but most people hate something different,” you explained.

You watched him closely as he considered his answer, looking for anything that might tell you if he was about to lie to you.

“The subway. It stinks of piss and there’s always too many people.”

You had to give him that one for obvious reasons, though he didn’t strike you as the kind of guy who used the subway all that often.

“When was the last time you used the subway?”

“That’s two questions, Bunny,” he chided playfully.

“Fine. Your turn.”

“What did you want to be when you were a kid?”

“What? You think that this wasn’t my career goal?” You said, barely holding back a laugh as you shook your head. “I don’t know, I went through a lot of phases; I wanted to be a vet until I lost my first hamster, wanted to be a doctor until my brother broke his arm, and I wanted to be a lawyer but I have a conscience...”

The birthday boy laughed with you, smiling at you, obviously happy enough with your answer because he didn’t call you out, making it your turn again.

“What’s your favourite place in New York?” You asked.

“Right here,” he said. “Right now. With you.”

“Yikes, what a line,” you said, smirking at him despite the heat in your cheeks. “Do lines like that usually work for you?”

“Normally I don’t need lines.”

“No?”

“People - women - usually make their minds up about me pretty quickly, and it’s rarely because of anything I have to say,” he explained.

You watched as he lifted his glass and drained his drink. Without needing to be asked, you refilled his glass. There was a pang of sadness in you, for him, for what he obviously had to go through.

“You must be pretty rich then,” you said, managing to keep the playful tone.

“Oh filthy rich,” he confirmed.

“Emphasis on the filthy part.”

He smirked at that.

The longer the conversation went on, the stranger it felt; it didn’t feel like work anymore, and you almost wished that it wasn’t. But moments like this didn’t happen to you out in the real world. He probably wouldn’t even look at you twice if he saw you in the light of day.

“Anyway, I call bullshit. There must be somewhere you like better than here, even if you are enjoying my company,” you said.

“Alright,” he conceded with an almost rueful smile, “there’s a baseball field in Brooklyn. I used to go there when I was a kid to watch other kids play...”

There was more to it, even you could tell that much, but it seemed personal - far more personal than you were prepared to get with him.

“You like baseball?”

“Liked,” he said, correcting you and adding another layer of uncertainty. “And that’s two questions.”

“Sorry, I’m not used to playing games when I’m tending bar,” you said, topping up his glass again before glancing towards his friends. “And, on that note...”

Again, you felt his eyes on you as you moved around the bar and headed to his friends, checking that everyone was having a good time and taking orders for fresh drinks.

“Think you’ve made the birthday boy’s night,” one of them said.

“Yeah, normally he slips out of his birthday parties after the first hour,” another commented, and they all laughed.

And, as you made your way back towards the bar (towards him), you couldn’t help but wonder what his birthdays were usually like.

“Hope they weren’t giving you any trouble,” he said as you slipped behind the bar and put the empty glasses you’d gathered to the side so you could start getting fresh drinks.

“No, you’ve all been perfect gentlemen,” you said, smiling at him, your face obviously showing some degree of relief because he quickly commented on it.

“Are there times when guys aren’t gentlemen?” He asked.

There was something in his tone, a hint of - what? - protectiveness, or anger maybe. 

“Sometimes, but that’s what Rocky is for,” you said, nodding your head towards the door.

“The big guy?” He asked and you nodded. “Yeah, I wouldn’t fancy my chances with him.”

Filling a tray with the fresh drinks, you went back to the table and passed them around before heading back to him again, taking up the spot on the opposite side of the bar from him, leaning your elbow on the bartop.

“So,” you said, almost decidedly, “want to tell me why you’re spending your birthday night out talking to me and not with your friends?”

He seemed to hesitate, but only for a split second.

“I thought it was my turn.”

“It is,” you conceded, “if you want to keep playing, but I think you might enjoy your birthday more if you spent it with friends.”

“We could be friends.”

“Friends don’t check out each other's asses, handsome.”

“Oh, so you’ve been checking out my ass?” He said as a grin tugged at his lips.

“What can I say?” You shrugged. “Something about men in well tailored pants drives me wild.”

The birthday boy let out another laugh, and it was such a happy sound that he drew glances from his friends, all of them wondering just what it was you’d said to manage to get a response like that from him.

He grabbed his glass and got to his feet.

“This isn’t over, Bunny,” he said before heading towards his friends.

Over the rest of the night, you found yourself watching him, always coming up with a teasing or playful remark whenever you went across to get them fresh drinks (oh, you wanted a drink, I just thought you wanted to stare at my ass again and I know how much you enjoy watching me walk away).

And he watched you, too.

Your skin prickled with goosebumps under his attention and you quickly came to love the sensation. Never in all your time working at The Red Ribbon had you felt such a connection with a guest, and you probably never would again.

So, when they all finally stood to leave, you felt a pang of regret - you shouldn’t have sent him back to his friends, you should have kept him with you so you could talk more.

Each of the guys said their thanks, each dropping bills into the tip jar by the door on their way out.

One of them stopped and looked at you, a smirk on his lips. “Thanks. I dunno what you said to him but I ain’t seen him like this in a long time.”

Your heart stuttered, not sure what it was you could have done to inspire such a change in a man you didn’t even know.

You noticed him linger as the door swung shut behind the last of his friends and, at any other time, that would be cause for concern but something told you that you weren’t in danger. Not from him. 

“Something else I can help you with?” You asked, as playful as ever.

“Plenty,” he said, his smile dropping a little. “But everything I want would break the rules, and the last thing I want is to get banned when there’s a chance I might see you again.”

It was sweet how oddly accepting he was of how things were, how they had to be. It made it harder to watch him walk away knowing that you might not see him again. You’d never felt such an instant connection with a stranger before, especially not a stranger who’d seen this side of you, a stranger who knew what you did for a living and didn’t judge you for it.

Against your better judgement, you leaned forward and pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek, dangerously close to the corner of his mouth, before pulling back slightly. You lingered close, watching the way the corner of his lip ticked upwards and heard the slightest catch of his breath.

“Well, here’s hoping you can tell who I am the next time you see me,” you offered in little more than a whisper.

Slowly, cautiously, his hand lifted to your face and you felt your heart skip a beat. It was the barest of touches, so light that he might not have even touched you at all, but you felt a warmth spread across your skin nonetheless.

“I’ll know, Bunny,” he said with a certainty that sent a shiver down your spine. “I’m gonna find you again.”

“Promises, promises,” you joked, wanting to keep the mood light, knowing that the odds of seeing him again were small. And, with that thought, you found yourself leaning forward again, this time pressing your lips to his for the briefest of seconds. “Something to remember me by.”

Then you stepped back, creating space between your body and his, a silent signifier that the night was over.

“I will find you,” he said again. “I always get what I want, Bunny, one way or another.”

“Happy birthday, handsome,” you said, avoiding answering his comment.

He gave you one last look, drinking in the sight of you from head to toe, and you felt your whole body warm in response. Then he left, leaving you alone with your racing heart and the promise that you’d see him again. 

It should have worried you; the way he’d spoken to you, the way he’d been looking, and the fact that he wanted to find you again. But it didn’t. Instead of worry, all you felt was want, even if you knew that the man behind the mask might be someone completely different. Even if you knew the man behind the mask probably wouldn’t be interested in who you were when you weren’t playing Bunny.

Later that night as you laid in bed, your vibrator between your thighs and his dark eyes in your mind, you wondered what he was doing. Your eyes closed tight, picturing him standing over you, watching as you fucked yourself. He’d smile that playful smile down at you and slowly grip his cock - and, fuck, his cock was probably as perfect as the rest of him.

You longed to know what he looked like beneath the mask and beneath the expensive clothes.

You wanted to know what it felt like to be touched by him, for him to kiss you and hold you. For him to fuck you.

No matter what you imagined as you slid the vibrator in and out your body, your thoughts continued to return to one thing; his eyes. You wanted to get lost in them, wanted to make him laugh and see them sparkle. You wanted to see them darken with need as he fucked you and took what he wanted from you.

I always get what I want, he’d told you. And he wanted you.

A loud moan tore from your lips as you came, your whole body shivering with pleasure at the thought of this strange and alluring man getting what he wanted from you.

Then, with a heavy sigh, you sank back on your bed and curled up, the usual feelings of insecurity quickly filling you again.

He’d probably forget all about you; everything he’d said had probably just been to try and get something more than you’d been prepared to give. He’d probably already forgotten you...

Little did you know that, across town, Billy Russo was fisting his cock to thoughts of you without knowing it was you he was thinking of, his hand stroking up and down his length as he stood in the shower. He jerked off to thoughts of your body, your laugh, your smile. He pictured all the ways that he wanted you, his Bunny, all the things he wanted to do.

Your plump and pretty lips would look good wrapped around his cock, and your plush thighs would no doubt feel amazing wrapped around his head as he feasted on your cunt. 

He licked his lips for what must have been the hundredth time since you kissed him and was, yet again, disappointed that there was no lingering taste of you.

As he came, he knew that he had to have you. He would find you again, and he would make you his if it was the last thing he did.

A/N : I feel weird when I don't post on a Friday, so here's a new thing 😅 like I said at the start, this will just be a short, sweet thing (3 parts and done), but hopefully it'll be a lot of fun and a little bit more playful/light-hearted compared to Love, Sick Love. (And I promise no cliffhanger ending to this one 😅) If you've played TellTale's The Wolf Among Us, that's where I got the ribbon idea from (well that and that old ghost story... but no ones head is going to fall off in this, I promise).

As always, let me know if you want to be tagged. I'm not going to full commit to posting every Friday for this because I work in retail and, as you can imagine, it's hectic at the moment, but I want to try and post at least once a week since this is only going to be a short story.

Anyway, thanks for reading!

Also I can't remember if anyone else asked to be tagged in all future Billy stories, if I've missed you please shout at me.

Tag List : @lincerad @xxxsweetcarolinexxx

[mrs-bucky-barnes106]

bucky x reader

the one where you get locked out and go a-knocking on your sworn enemy's door in the middle of the night

౨ৎ

"Fuck!" You yelled, for what seemed like the millionth time that night. You should've listened to Wanda and stayed home instead of going to that stupid bar with that guy. Now, you were locked out of your house because you brilliantly left your keys in his car, and he left you when he said he was going to the bathroom.

You'd been out here for a half hour now doing everything you could to get in your house. You tried to pick the lock, break open a window with a rock, everything. You even walked around back and found a half-open window. You had never been more grateful for your forgetfulness. The only problem was that the window was on the second floor, a full twenty feet above where you stood.

It seemed your only option was to ask for help. All you needed was a ladder to climb up to that window, and everything would be just dandy. Sighing you tried to remember who in your neighborhood was actually home, and who'd let you in at- what time was it anyway?

10:45 P.M. Not bad. Nat and Steve were on vacation. Wanda wasn't here. Sam was away on work.

Shit.

The harsh realization struck you square in the chest. Bucky. The man next door. He was your only option in this dire situation. You hated to think of it, but he was your only acquaintance on this street, if you could even call him that.

You stomped over to his house, your very uncomfortably high heels getting sucked into the mud in his garden.

You made it to his door, steeling yourself to knock.

Thump. Thump. Thump. Your knuckles rapped heavily on the door.

You stood there a minute, and when he didn't appear, you turned around, ready to walk away. He was probably sleeping, there was no use knocking anyway. Maybe you could just camp outside on your porch and wait for Wanda to get back.

Before you got very far, his deep rasp stopped you in your tracks. "Doll? What the hell are you doing here?" Bucky stood at the door, in all his bleary-eyed glory.

You considered bolting to save yourself the embarrassment.

No, you scolded yourself. You had already disturbed him, so the very least you could do was not stand there like a fool and instead, tell him about your troubles. It couldn't make him hate you any more than he already did.

"Doll?"

You turned around and gave him a small wave.

"Jesus-the hell happened to you? You look awful." You missed the concern in his eyes, only seeing the way they flicked down your body. You were suddenly embarrassed of the sequined dress you had chosen for the night. Not exactly something you wanted your most-hated coworker to see you in.

"Well, thanks," you rolled your eyes. "I- you know if you're just gonna stand there and tell me how bad I look, then forget it." You started to walk away.

"I wasn't- doll, wait. Why'd ya come?" He sounded earnest, almost concerned as he reached out for your wrist and gently grabbed hold of it.

"I- I need your help with something."

"With what?"

"I need help getting inside my house," you whispered, eyes cast downward from the shame that now consumed you.

God, how pathetic was this? Not only did you do the most idiotic thing you possibly could have in your entire adult life, but you went to Bucky of all people for help.

"With what? I can't hear you, c'mon speak up," his tone was commanding, and he sounded slightly irritated. His forehead crinkled, eyebrows scrunching down till his eyes were two thin slits, the blue orbs almost completely disappearing. Great, he was making you say it again.

You lifted your head up, staring into his eyes. The worst of it was over, you had come to Barnes. You spoke clearly, trying not to cringe at how stupid your situation sounded, "I need help getting into my house. Do you have a ladder or something?"

"The hell happened to your keys?"

"D-does it matter?!" You cried, exasperated.

"I- no, no, just come in, it's freezing out here and you look half-dead. And half-naked. Jesus, doll, do you not own anything warm?" Again with the insults. If you weren't desperate you would've showed him what half-dead really looked like.

You walked in after him, and were immediately struck with the realization that you had never been inside his house. And well, it looked...nice. Nicer than you expected for an old grouch like him. Huge murals filled two of the foyer walls, and everything was in pleasant, muted autumnal colors that somehow made him seem almost human.

"So where's the ladd...," you trailed off, realizing he was no longer in sight. Just great, he had left you by yourself immediately after inviting you in.

By this point, you were freezing in your mini dress, and all you really wanted was to just wipe off all your makeup and curl up into a ball of oblivion. Unsure if you were welcome to take a seat while you waited, you stood awkwardly in his foyer, shivering slightly because, of course, he had the thermostat turned all the way down.

"Here," Bucky reappeared suddenly, handing you a soft blanket and pillow.

"W-wait I don't need a place to sleep just the-"

"Look, doll, it's now 11:00 and it's freezing out. Quite frankly, you're insane if you think I'm gonna let you go out there with a ladder to climb into your side window. So, just please shut up, go to the bathroom do whatever you need to do, put on the change of clothes I left you and just go. to. sleep."

Wait change of clothes? Wouldn't they be...his clothes? Why was he being so nice to you, and more concerningly, why did that make you feel warm inside??

"I- okay, thank you," you didn't know what else to say.

Why was he being so nice to you? Where was the Barnes that was condescending? The one that was annoyed by every little thing you did and hated your entire existence?

He led you upstairs to his bathroom where you wiped off your makeup and splashed some water on your face.

Walking out to his bedroom, you found the clothes he laid out for you. An oversized T-shirt you guessed was too small for him and gray sweatpants. They were huge, but oh so soft. They also smelled like him, woodsy with a hint of...was that sandalwood?

You put on his clothes, instantly engulfed in the fabric. You walked downstairs with the blanket and pillow in hand, finding the couch easily enough.

"What're you doing?" Bucky asked, walking into the living room with a mug.

"Going to sleep?" You frowned up at him as you started to position the pillow to your liking.

"I- Jesus, doll, there's an entire bed up there. The hell do you mean you're sleepin' on the couch?"

"It's your house, I'm not taking your bed away too!"

"You're not taking the bed away, just go lie down."

"No, I'll sleep on the couch, it's fine."

"Why are you being stubborn? I'm offering you the bed."

"And I'm declining." You crossed your arms without realizing that you were mirroring the pose he held.

He sighed heavily before asking, "Why don't we both take the bed then, will that make ya feel better?" He sounded as exasperated as you felt and before you knew it, he was ushering you upstairs, grabbing the pillow and blanket he provided you with earlier.

You entered his room and laid down on opposite sides of the bed, which was warm, and so soft. Of course, it smelled like him too. You made a mental note to ask him about his mattress later to get yourself the same one.

"So, uh, how'd you get locked out?" Bucky asked awkwardly, cringing at his attempt to break the silence.

"I left my keys in this guy's car."

"So you didn't ask him for them back?" You felt him turn his head to face you, but you remained staring at the ceiling.

"He drove away before I realized, so yeah."

"Oh, what an ass," he growled.

"Got that right," you chuckled. Then, you stopped yourself. Why did he genuinely sound upset? Was he being protective? No, that was silly. He could care less about you.

You swallowed, turning to face him, welcomed by the sight of his pretty blue eyes and the smirk that would forever adorn his lips.

"Why'd you let me stay?" You finally asked, voicing the question that lingered in your mind.

"Because you'd freeze if you slept out there," he stated plainly.

"Thought you'd enjoy it if that happened," you chortled.

"Eh well- I wouldn't be happy about it. Besides I didn't need that weighing on my conscious all night."

"Mhm," you smiled at him.

"So, what if I told you that I make great pancakes," he scooted closer.

"I would say I'd love some," you said, scooting a bit closer as well. "On one condition."

"What?" You felt his hand rest on your arm, and you let it stay there.

Before you knew it, you were blurting, "Stay here and hold me?"

"Course doll, c'mere."

You snuggled your way up to his chest and felt loving hands run up and down your arms, which then snaked their way down to your waist. He buried his head in your neck, inviting you to rest yours on his chest.

"G'night Bucky."

"G'night doll, sleep well."

You felt a feather-light kiss being pressed to your temple, not quite sure if you had dreamed it all up. In the morning, however, you were greeted with a stack of pancakes in bed...