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pasteidolons · 21 days

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pincushion - jww

pairing: tailor!jeon wonwoo x bookbinder!reader genre: 1960's, romance, angst, fluff, smut (MDNI 18+) warnings: swearing, alcohol, smut (p in v, unprotected sex, oral sex), no use of y/n, afab reader, an overabundance of 60's references oops word count: 19.9k summary: when a newly appointed tailor stops into your shop one autumn morning, you're unaware the impact he would have on your life for better or for worse.

1963, Autumn. The small knife in hand cuts through the thin leather with relative ease, stopping at the point you’d marked with a small piece of chalk, you switch to cut the other end of the material. You eye the coffee sitting on the opposite end of your work bench, watching the steam rise from the cup that you’d barely taken a drink from. It’s only nine in the morning and you hadn’t slept well the night before, had there not been any orders to fill you would have slept in a while longer.

With the leather finally cut into its allotted pieces you go to move to the bound paper you were trying to cover before you hear someone walk in. The chimes above the door at the front of your shop sound off with a soft resonance, the same sound that had echoed the room for years. Footsteps tread carefully into the center of your shop, you can’t eye the stranger from your closed off workshop unless you open the heavy wooden door.

A quiet “Hello?” rings out, they sound apprehensive and unfamiliar to you. There’s a tinged worry that treads on the lone word, leaving you all the more perplexed as you set down the leather and the semicircular knife onto your workshop table and head out into the main gallery of your shop.

“Can I help you?” Question falling from your lips as soon as you begin to push open the oak door, finding a taller man looking down at one of the fabric laden books on one of the display tables.

“Oh,” his attention turns to you from the book, to the doorway you’d entered from and then back to you. The horn-rimmed glasses adorning his face slipping down the bridge of his nose. “I’m here to pick up an order for Seungcheol Choi.” His slender hand moves from its once stagnant position to push the glasses back up before moving to his right-side front pocket, “I can show you the receipt if you need it—”

“There’s no need,” you shake your head and raise your hand. Seungcheol had been a longtime customer of your family’s shop, you assume it’s mostly because of a mutual acquaintance with the Hong clan, but you would never be the one to edge into that conversation unprovoked. “I’ll go and grab your order,” a short smile and you’re turning on your heels and striding into your storeroom/workshop once more.

When you walk back out a few moments later, the books wrapped in brown paper to protect their covers, the stranger is once again looking down at the assortment of books atop your display tables.

“So,” you begin as you hold out the bound books to him, “are you new? I don’t think Seungcheol has sent you before.”

He takes the books gingerly, his gaze returning to the soft leather-bound journal after he gives you a short nod in thanks. As if it took him a moment to process the question he blinks and turns back to you, “Sorry— My name’s Wonwoo Jeon. I started working for Seungcheol last week.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” you nod, trying to register the face with the name as comprehensively as you could. “Tell him to give me a ring when he needs his next order, I know he goes through those fairly quickly.”

“I will,” Wonwoo smiles, “Before I go do you think I could buy this?” His head nods down to the maroon colored leather-bound journal he’d been eyeing earlier, “It’s absolutely gorgeous.”

A small smile gracing your lips, “Of course, it’s unlined though. Is that alright?”

“It’s perfect, thank you,” he says as you pick up the book as his hands were already burdened with his boss’ order. “How much do I owe you?”

“No charge,” you shake your head, fingers tightening along the spine. It’s smooth but the ridges of the leather run coarse under your touch, “Think of it as a congratulatory gift for getting a job under Choi. I know he has a reputation for being a bit of a—”

“Hard-ass?” Wonwoo muses, eyes widening as he realizes how he’s just insulted his boss. “And really, I can pay for that, I’m sure it must’ve taken you a while to make it.”

“I’m not sure if that’s the exact term I was looking for, but it does fit,” you laugh, raising the book up. “Don’t worry about it, do you want me to wrap it?”

“If you could,” he offers a smile as you move to the roll of brown paper atop the register table.

It only takes a minute for you to cover it, you’d done hundreds, if not thousands, of wrappings for novels and books. Once you finish tying the twine bow atop the journal, you gently stack it on the books Wonwoo holds.

“I hope to see you here again, Mr. Jeon. That is, if Seungcheol doesn’t scare you off.”

“He’s like a weird mix of my dad and what I’d expect Hardy Amies to be,” you weren’t sure exactly who Amies is or what Wonwoo’s father was like, but you did know Seungcheol. Oddities and all. “And don’t worry, I have a stronger resolve than most,” he shoots you a wink before spinning on his heels and heading towards the door. He calls out, “Thanks again for the book!” before shoving the door open with his hip and losing himself in the crowd of the street outside.

1963, Winter There was nothing quite like the holiday season in New York. Shops elevated the grandeur of their storefronts to catch the eye of window shoppers. Your own shop had seen an influx of patrons, as was typically the case around this time of year. But the demands were great, your hands had the slew of papercuts and hastily put on bandages to show it. Not that you minded it all too much, it was great revenue and it had paid for the camel hair coat you donned this evening.

The city was abuzz with life and festivities along almost every street, and while the excitement from Hanukkah and Christmas had died down over the last few weeks, most now looked towards the reining in of a New Year as December thirty first arrived.

“We’re going to be late,” Vernon’s arm slides under yours, the crux of his arm locking into yours as his pace quickens along the dimly lit street. The sound of his derbies clicking against the pavement reverberating around the nearly empty row of houses.

“It’s ten and we’re going to a New Year’s Eve party, I doubt we’ll be late, Vernon.” You let out a scoff, fumbling with your bag for a moment, not sure what you were searching for in the first place. The streetlamp’s orange glow does not aid you in deciphering the numbers etched into the doorways of the homes.

“Says the person who took five years to pick out a jacket, I’m surprised we got out of your apartment before my hair turned gray— Wait a minute,” his fingers of his free hand trailing up to the dyed platinum locks on his head as he turns back to shoot you a glare, “It did.”

“You’re such a drama queen,” eyes rolling, you nudge him with your shoulder “It’s not my fault your stylist bleached you instead of dyeing you.”

“I feel like an idiot, they can’t even see me to fix it for another week.” He groans as the pair of you make your way to a brownstone tucked away neatly into one of the city’s streets. It would be innocuous from the others aligning the strip had you not been able to hear the gentle buzz of chatter and the occasional laugh drift out from the screened door.

“Did Hong invite the whole block?” Vernon murmurs as he lets go of your arm so that he can jump up the short handful of stairs to the front door two by two.

“It would explain how dead the rest of the street seems,” Musing, you follow him, more carefully as you’d always seemed prone to falling up stairs. The voices grow in volume and now you can even hear the scratchy sound of some music floating from the door. There’s no one at the door to greet you when you walk in, just an array of faces that you seem to recognize while others are brand new acquaintances, Vernon and you drop off your coats in a nearby closet and shuffle your way inside in search for the nearest drink station.

“I’d say his house is beautiful, but I can barely see anything. How does he know this many people?” Vernon questions as he slides out of the way of someone’s elbow almost hitting him in the stomach. “All I want is to get slightly drunk tonight but I bet the alcohol’s already gone.”

“It’s the Hong household you know that’s not going to happen,” a snicker leaves you before you feel a gentle tapping on your shoulder. Stopping in your tracks you’re fully ready to meet Joshua Hong’s smirk and subsequent banter, but it takes you a minute to realize that it wasn’t your childhood friend that had garnered your attention at all; instead, it’s a somewhat less familiar face.

“Fancy seeing you here.” Wonwoo’s cheeks are slightly flushed with a smile, the contents of his champagne glass half-empty as he poses the question, “Can I get you a drink?”

“Oh, sure.” You return his smile, nodding your head as he begins to walk off, only stopped by someone calling out to him.

“I didn’t know Pincushion would be here,” Vernon’s voice draws nearer behind you, it seems like he realized you weren’t trailing after him anymore. You feel his hand land on your shoulder as he continues to talk to Wonwoo, “How are you?”

“I’m good, thanks.” He taps his shoe on the floor, only stepping forward a little bit to let someone pass by behind him.

“Pincushion?” You question, looking from Vernon to Wonwoo with a quizzical look on your brow.

“That thing he wears around his wrist every time he comes in?” Vernon shrugs, “I couldn’t remember his name the first time I saw him, but I could remember that. Hence: Pincushion.”

“Is that what it’s called?” You recall the ball of velvety looking green fabric you’d seen on Wonwoo’s wrist the last handful of times he’d come to pick up the tailor shop’s orders.

“Yeah my grandma used to have one and I stole the needles from it to use as swords for my toys when I was a kid,” his shoulders shrug as he looks past Wonwoo and spots something beyond him. “I see one of those guys with a tray of drinks, I’ll get back to you in a bit.” And with that he’s off, sliding around you and Wonwoo to brush his way through the crowd in a frantic sprint to grab himself a glass.

“Does he know that there’s an open bar in the other room?” Wonwoo asks aloud as he watches your friend disappear into the crowd.

“Not yet but give him twenty minutes and I’m sure he’ll be all over it.” Vernon wasn’t one to drink heavily often, it was more of a holiday thing where he only did it if he knew he wasn’t going into work for the next few days. Needless to say, Christmas and New Years are binge drinking galore for him.

“So, book binding? How’d you get into that line of work?” You’d been so concentrated on looking for your friend’s brightly colored hair that you almost didn’t hear Wonwoo when he asked.

“Family business, dad’s too sick to come in.” Your eyes flickering over to him, a small shrug of your shoulders.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” his brow contorts into worry for a moment, as if he’d offended you somehow.

“Don’t be, if anything I think he’s playing it up a bit just so mom has to be around more often,” You smile, it was really only minor back issues but the doctor had prescribed bed rest and your father had been milking it for months now.

“Smart man,” a short laugh into his drink before he takes a sip from his glass. “So, how do you know Joshua?”

“Old family friend, plus he’s as rich as all get out so it’s nice to see what it’s like.” You note, looking up to the chandelier overhead. If it were anything but Tiffany you’d be surprised. “What about you?”

“You didn’t hear this from me but Seungcheol might be secretly dating one of his sisters and she invited the whole shop just as an excuse to see him.” The two of you lock eyes, a playful smirk on his lips dancing in the warm glow of the room. “I’m not complaining.”

“I don’t doubt it,” chuckling for a moment, you then look up as if you’ve realized something. “I should probably go and greet the host; can you imagine how rude of a guest I’d be if I didn’t?”

A ceding nod as he steps away from you, gesturing with his glass towards a side room off the main hall, “I think I saw him in there a few minutes ago.”

“Thanks, Wonwoo,” you move to pass him, heading towards the doorway before you stop for a moment, your head tilting in question, “Want to meet back up later?”

“I’d love that,” a gentle thud in your chest as you nod at him, beginning to move again and question the feeling that had plagued you enough to ask him that.

You don’t find Joshua in that room, or the next, or even upstairs in his own bedroom. You do, however, find him on the second-floor fire escape, the butts of several cigarettes at his feet and a glass of whiskey in his hand. It’s cold, had you known this would be where you’d speak you would’ve brought your coat with you.

“Joshua Hong,” You begin, crouching down to duck through the open window, catching him as he’s begun to lean against the brick exterior of his home, “Hiding away from your party again?”

“The guest of the hour,” A grin as you walk towards him, “How are you? I haven’t seen you at all in the past few months.”

“I’m good, good… It’s been so hectic with the seasonal shopping and all, who knew journals were a hot commodity for gift-giving?” You sigh, elbows resting against the cold fence of the escape. The time between now and the last you’d seen him had been great, but it had always been far and few in between when it came to his jet setting tendencies.

“Sounds hellish for sure,” Musing, he takes a sip from his glass, the scent of whisky hitting your nose as it nears. His other hand rests atop the rusted metal of the fire escape, impatiently tapping as he looks out into the backyard of his home.

“And what about you, Mr. Start-Up? Tear down any more conglomerates recently?” You query, noticing that he was on one of his inward treks again. Something must’ve come up with his family.

A snicker, as he offers out his glass to you, noticing that your hands were painfully empty, “No, but we’re working on a pretty big acquisition right now. It’s all mind games and if I didn’t make a shitload of money I’d be out of this business.”

“Lucky you though, you’re able to retire at thirty-five if you really wanted to,” musing as you swirl around the contents of the glass, the ice inside clinking around.

He laughs, the cold air mixing with his breath in plumes of white that spiral into the nighttime. You push yourself from the wall, bringing the glass to your lips and downing the rest of the contents as quickly as you can, “This isn’t the time to be hard on yourself, Joshua. I think the countdown’s about to start,” a look at the small wrist watch on your wrist, the time indicating that you had about five minutes until the new year began.

“Shit,” the word elongated exasperatedly as he leans over to catch a glance at the clock face, “Let’s get back out there.”

The two of you amble inside, your cheeks cold with the winter air and hands a little stiff from holding the glass for too long. You set it down on one of the various demilunes scattered around the hall as you make your way back into Joshua’s living room. He’s lost along the way, pulled into a group of businessmen to talk or fawning girls to cajole with, you’re not sure which at this point. All you’re trying to do is find someone you know.

You can try to push through the crowds to find Joshua, but at this point it’d be like trying to part the Red Sea with your own two hands and it was infeasible to say the least. Or you could head to one of the drink stations around the house in hopes to find Vernon, but he was as elusive as a snake and it’d be a miracle if you could find him before the clock struck midnight.

“Sixty!” A choir of voices ring out from a nearby room, you think you can hear Joshua’s voice rising above them all, but it might also be your ears playing tricks on you.

“Are they really counting down the entire minute?” The voice next to you startled you so much that you jumped, turned, and saw Jeon Wonwoo looking off in the direction of the countdown. His brow furrowing in confusion, “I at least thought it’d be the last ten seconds or something.”

“Jesus Wonwoo,” hand over your heart as you try and catch your breath, “You almost scared me to death.”

A laugh, “Sorry about that, I’m a little light on my feet.”

It also didn’t help that you could barely hear with the throng of people surrounding you. The gaiety electrifies the room, as it does the entire world when on the eve of a brand-new start.

“Did you want me to help you find one of your friends? I’m sure they couldn’t have gone too far,” his height somewhat advantageous to him as he scans the crowd, not seeing you shake your head as the countdown reaches thirty.

“I think I’m fine just staying with you,” you don’t notice the way he tenses ever so slightly at your words, a more rouge tint to his cheeks as he looks back to you with a sheepish smile.

“Are you sure?” Eyes widening as your gazes’ lock and you feel the familiar warmth creeping up the back of your neck.

“If that’s okay with you?” You question, the countdown hitting fifteen.

“That’s great— fine, it’s— yeah,” he trips and stumbles over his words, trying to find solid ground somewhere on the confab plain. It’s at that moment the countdown comes to ten, and the pair of you join in for the last seconds of 1963.

Five, four, three, two —

“Happy New Year!”

The clock had struck midnight and he was the closest one to you, you can’t remember if it was you or him that pulled the other closer to share a kiss. The kiss was chaste, but it resounded around your ribcage like the booming of the fireworks being shot off a distant skyscraper. A smile on your lips as you mouth back your own, “Happy New Year!” Despite it being innocent in nature, you know with the way the feeling buzzes on your lips you yearn for something more.

1964, Early Spring. The two of you’d spent time together since that evening, outside of that transactional relationship formed in the commerce of you selling your journals and him picking them up for Seungcheol whenever he could. It was outside of that realm, more personal as the days, weeks and months had transgressed.

By some miraculous circumstance, and no less of your incessant mentioning, you and Wonwoo had been seeing each other on a regular basis

“Seungcheol?” The door of the tailor shop opens with nothing short of a struggle. The heavy oak pressing back against your foot as you pry it open, your hands too full to push it.

“Need some help?” A voice behind you, startling you so much that you almost drop the large stack of books in your hand. You look over your shoulder to see Wonwoo standing behind you, his head tilted as if to question how you’d made it this far on your own.

“Thanks,” allowing him to brush past you, he steps into the shop and holds the door open wider as you enter. “Where is everyone?” Noticing that the usual handful of other tailors didn’t seem to be aimlessly roaming the store waiting for a customer to arrive.

“Busy,” He notes, motioning for you to hand him the plethora of journals. Obliging willingly, you hand them off and stretch your arms, surely the strain from the hardbacks would pull your finger muscles. “There’s been an emergency tailoring session, some big shot’s in town and needs alterations done for some party they’re throwing tomorrow night.”

“Explains why no one came to pick up the order today,” you muse, “Shouldn’t you be helping with that?”

“I will be in about an hour,” he sighs as if he’s already imagining the work that he’ll need to put in this evening. “But someone had to watch over the shop today.”

“Do you want company while you wait?”

You’re not sure how you’d gotten roped into staying with Wonwoo until well after the sun had set and the last customer had come in for the day. The lights of the shop are off, save for the small lamp that sits above Wonwoo’s workstation. He sits at his little desk in the back corner of the shop as he sews and hems away. His eyes scan the notes the patron had given when they’d dropped off the clothes, you had to squint to try and read the messy scrawl etched onto the parchment. You sit some desks away, flipping through some editorial detailing the up and coming designers of the fashion world but nothing was particularly catching your eye.

“Three alterations in one night, Seungcheol’s really trying to work us to the bone,” Wonwoo sighs exasperatedly, his hands falling atop his desk, a needle held between his right index and thumb while his other hand holds the garment he’d been attending to.

“Doesn’t it take a week to do something for just one piece?” You ask, not too versed on the schematics of it all, just acutely aware of when your father had needed suits adjusted as he aged.

“Normally,” he glances over to you, a hazy impatience settling behind his brow as he thinks to the two other pieces he was set to mend. “But it’s nine-thirty now and the guy wants them done by noon tomorrow,” Wonwoo almost barks out a laugh at the absurdity of it all, “I didn’t even get the roughest pieces, Mingyu’ll be up all night and finish five minutes beforehand if he’s lucky.”

“What are they making him do?” Magazine set aside as you stand to stretch, your legs numb with the fuzziness of pinched nerves.

“Some simple inseam stuff like I’m doing, but also taking in a few jacket sleeves and fixing shoulder divots,” He says as if you know what he’s talking about, upon seeing the puzzled expression that paints itself on your face he explains a little more, “It’s nearly impossible to do with the amount of time we’ve been given.”

“Why’d Seungcheol accept this job then?” Pins and needles poking through your skin as you walk over to him to take a look at what he was working on.

“Because the client’s paying us a fortune,” setting the needle down he pulls a pin from the cushion around his wrist to situate it into an odd angle in the fabric in front of him, “I might actually be able to take you on a real date if I finish this in time.”

“I’ve kind of liked the ice cream socials,” you shrug your shoulders, as he turns to look at you, “And all of the gritty little dives, it’s more memorable that way. Plus, it makes me a cheap date.”

A small ‘tch’ leaving him as he turns back to his work, “You deserve more than that.”

“As long as you’re there I’ll be fine,” you lean down to press a kiss on his cheek, “Now I’ll stop distracting you, I’ll make dinner or lunch or something because I know you’ll be dead on your feet tomorrow.”

“Try and get to bed early,” he says as you go to grab your things from where you’d left them up front, “I know you like to overwork yourself too.”

1964, Summer When you’d been invited to Wonwoo’s small apartment, you’d expected a small dinner and then maybe you’d go and watch television or explore the city afterwards. What you hadn’t expected was to see dark plumes of smoke emitting from under the doorway. You don’t knock, instead you barge into the apartment to find Wonwoo unlatching his windows and opening them to let the smoke escape, the source of the plumes coming from his small kitchen.

“What happened?” You call out as he turns to you, your hand rising to your face as if it could vanquish the putrid smell.

“I cooked,” the last window opens with a struggle, Wonwoo’s arms ache with how much force he had to exert when opening it. He shuffles over to you, seeing that you’d walked into the kitchen to find the source of it all.

“You… cooked….” A charred, black entity sits in a pan that Wonwoo had presumably pulled from the oven minutes prior. “Wonwoo what is that?”

“A loaf!” An almost excited tone cutting through your confusion as you turn and tilt your head at him.

“A… loaf of?”

“Meat!” At least he’s trying to sound cheerful, but that was his disposition most of the time. His hand guides your gaze over to a handwritten recipe atop the counter, he must’ve gotten it from some program. “I followed Julia Child’s recipe.”

“I’m not trying to be mean but that looks like a brick.” Gaze flickering back to the meat-brick.

“Yeah,” a sigh as he picks up a nearby spatula, grazing it atop the burnt meat, it scrapes atop it rather than giving way at all, “It’s about as hard as one too.”

The utter exasperation breaking through in his voice cause enough for you to laugh, the absurdity of it all pricking tears into the corners of your eyes. “We can try and salvage it,” you offer once you calm yourself down enough, the occasional chuckle flitting like a bird around your ribcage.

“Let’s just go to Le Pavilion or something, there’s also a new movie out too, we can try and catch it if we eat fast enough.”

And you do. For some reason Wonwoo orders the most expensive dish on the menu and doesn’t even like it, offering it to you instead with an abysmal pout that almost has you reeling in the small interior of the restaurant. The atmosphere is warm and jovial, met by the sinking sun as the two of you exit the venue, hands interlocked with a faint tightness as if you never wanted to be without him in your grasp again. Wonwoo and you then walk to a theater some blocks away, hands still held and a bubbling silence between you.

The film that Wonwoo had mentioned earlier had been Mary Poppins, some Disney film starring Julie Andrews and Dick Van Dyke; you’re sure you’d heard Andrews somewhere before, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it.

“I didn’t realize they could combine live action and cartoons like that,” Wonwoo’s voice full of childlike wonder as the pair of you exit the cinema. The smell of popcorn wafts out of the theater’s doors and the bright bulbs of the marquee overhead creates a strange glow contrasted to the nighttime sky.

“I didn’t either,” you note as a few kids brush past you and begin to race down the street, their voices carrying off into the night. It brings a small smile to your lips as you watch them gallivant around, not a care in the world as they continue to chase one another.

“Do you want me to walk with you back to your place?” Wonwoo offers, extending his hand out to you. You don’t answer aloud, instead just take his hand into yours and begin to walk the steadily emptying streets.

“Have you always lived in the city, Wonwoo?” It takes a moment for you to speak again, instead of just admiring the way that the lights glint off of passing windows and the rumblings of the cars that pass to your left drown out in the other amblings of the city.

“No, my family actually lives up north a little way away.” He hums to himself as he thinks, “I thought I’d always be stuck up there too, but I got the offer from Seungcheol and moved here as fast as I could. Although I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss it at times.”

“I see,” you mutter, not knowing the feeling of leaving your home. It was a foreign concept to say the least, for almost the entirety of your life you’d known you were going to take over your father’s shop one day, and you’d been complacent in the matter. You’d had your hobbies that you dabbled in, but this was a nostalgic comfort that would and had transitioned into your livelihood that would take you nowhere other than the little shop you call your own. “Would you want to move back?”

“Maybe when I’m older, sure. But I want to see the world first,” he nods his head, a twitch in his hand as he holds yours, “there’s so much I haven’t done or seen.”

It was a reckless ambition, but Wonwoo lived in that fantasy of the unknown, he had for all of his life. That was what he knew and all he abided by. You’d be fooling yourself if you didn’t worry for him at times, but he’d made it so far and you were curious to see where he was going. There was a creative longing, a desire to make, within him that no one else you’d come across had.

“I love you.” The words aren’t romantic when they fall from your mouth, when they’re swept up in the humidity of the summer air and ring around both his and your ears. This was more of a reckoning, a realization of the culmination of your growing feelings towards him since you’d met him almost a year ago now. A weight you hadn’t realized was there lifting from your chest, a songbird free from a gilded cage.

Wonwoo pauses, his feet stopping on the concrete as you continue to walk, only pulled back when you meet resistance. So, you stop yourself, turning back to look at him, a little ‘o’ on his lips and a confused look gracing his features. Had you said it too early? Or did he not reciprocate your feelings?

“You beat me to it,” a small pout emerges onto his lower lip, “I love you too.”

1964, Autumn “I can’t imagine those are comfortable.” You’re sure the clacking of your shoes could be heard miles away, with the obnoxious way they hit the sidewalk. They were pinching your toes too, and you might as well have put a band-aid on the backs of your heels because they were definitely going to be blistered tomorrow morning.

“They most certainly aren’t, but they are cute.” You note, standing on your toes so you can click the red slippers together three times at the heel. “

Wonwoo stands at the bottom of the stairs that lead up to your apartment, offering out his hand for you to grasp when you carefully make your way down the steps. As opposed to the cool air that had begun to settle into the city, his hand offers warmth against your bare skin as his fingers intertwined with yours.

“Which way is Vernon's?” He questions, looking over your costume for the evening.

“He lives over in Flatiron, kind of near the shop so it won’t be too far of a walk.” You notice him looking at the checkered dress and bright shoes. “Was Dorthey not a good idea, Mr. Holmes?” Noting his outfit of choice, the pipe held in his free hand, the detective cap as well as the cape to match.

“I think you look cute,” Looking away from you and towards the street you’d begun to walk down.

Vernon’s apartment was small, it being so led to more intimate parties than one would find at Joshua Hong’s home, in a way you appreciated it a little more. Bigger parties with unfamiliar faces made you feel as if you had to act less like yourself and more robotic in your interactions.

“I’ll let you in if you promise not to chuck my house to Oz,” Vernon asks as he jokingly cracks open his front door as the two of you stand in front of it, “And Pincushion here doesn’t try and solve a murder or two.”

“Hmm I guess that’s doable, right?” You play along, turning to Wonwoo to confirm.

“It might take some restraint but I’m sure I can manage.” Hand under his chin as if he’s deep in thought.

“I’ll take what I can get,” Vernon sighs and swings the door open, “Drinks in the kitchen, I think Chan’s trying to do a comedy-musical routine in the living room. I’d steer clear because he’s trying out ‘audience participation’ tonight.”

“Thanks for the heads up,” You laugh as you walk inside, the warmth of the room exacerbated by the sheer number of people crammed into the tiny space. “I actually kind of want to check out Chan’s thing,” You mention to Wonwoo after you find a space where the two of you can stand unimpeded.

“I don’t know if I can stomach that quite yet, want me to grab you a drink in the meantime?” Wonwoo asks, looking towards the kitchen and the few people filtering in and out of it.

“That’d be great,” a smile and then Wonwoo’s off to struggle his way through the packed room.

Lip bitten, you try to look through the crowd, but the drawls of laughter tell you almost exactly where Chan’s giving his tri-annual standup show. It’s shoulder to shoulder and you can barely hear him over the other going-ons of the party but from what you can ascertain it’s pretty funny.

“Happy Halloween!” A hand on your side as they call out, you turn, and it takes you a moment to recognize the face under the Gomez Addams’ mustache and wig.

“Joshua!” A smile as you move to hug him for a moment, pulling away with your hands resting on his forearms, “I thought you were overseas?”

“I was supposed to be, a nasty storm delayed us by a few days over in Spain so I’m not leaving until Wednesday.” He says, looking over your outfit. “Didn’t you wear this like two Halloweens ago?”

“What no one knows won’t hurt them,” a playful nudge on his shoulder, “And if I were to remember, this wig looks very Elvis of you.”

“You might be able to remember correctly,” The black strands of hair that were pulled back are still reminiscent of the shape they once held. “Hey, I was wondering if I could talk to you alone?” Joshua smiles, a nervous tinge to his voice as he continues, “It’s a little loud in here and I can’t really hear.”

“Oh, yeah,” brow furrowing at the attitude shift, “But first I should tell— Wonwoo!” The confused expression on Joshua’s face is somewhat laughable as you wave your boyfriend over, spotting him exiting the kitchen with two drinks in hand.

“There you are,” Wonwoo says as he walks over, placing a kiss on your cheek as he hands you a glass. You’re not too sure what the contents are, but it’s warm and smells spiced and oddly autumnal. “Hey Joshua,” he greets with a small nod of his head as you take a small sip from your glass.

“Hey Wonwoo,” a return of the nod, “I should probably let the two of you go, I just remembered I have some calls I need to make.”

“What did you want to talk about?” You ask as Joshua begins to turn on his heels. It freezes him, he looks back to you before offering you a warm smile once again.

“It’s nothing important, I’ll catch up with you some other time, yeah?”

The party goes one without much note after, the most affable thing being that routine that Chan had been preparing. At one point you and Wonwoo had slipped out citing an acute tiredness as an excuse to just walk the city some more. By this time of night, the kids that had gone out in search of candy were slowly waning, now only the belligerently drunk wandered the streets in search of the home they probably lived in.

“You have to admit that the joke about Red Skelton was pretty funny though,” insisting that Chan wasn’t the worst comedian you had ever seen. Sure, his act could be cleaned up a little but there was definitely potential.

“What was it— I know a guy who bought a $99 color TV set. Now every Tuesday night he watches Green Skelton?” Chuckling as he recalls the joke, Wonwoo shakes his head “That was pretty good.”

“That’s the one, he’s no Jerry Lewis but he’s trying his best,” you laugh as you arrive at the entrance of your apartment, “Did you want to come in?”

“I’d love to,” he says, and your heart skips several beats, “but I’ve got a client coming in early tomorrow.” And then your heart drops, “I’ll come by tomorrow after I’m done?”

“Alright,” you nod and you say your good nights, he places a kiss on your cheek before turning on his heels and walking into the darkness of night.

You fumble with your hands, trying to unlatch the small picnic basket that had acted as your purse for the evening, in search of your keys.

“Actually, do you have room for one more?” You’d been too distracted trying to get your keys that you hadn’t heard or seen Wonwoo come back to your stoop.

“I thought you said you had work tomorrow,” a wayward glance to him.

“I do, but it’s dark and I’m kind of afraid to walk home alone, I mean what if a ghost or vampire gets me? I’m too pretty to die right now,” he states, rocking back and forth on his heels as he waits for you to invite him in.

“A big baby, more like it,” you scoff, once again turning to look at your door and stating, “If you are coming inside, can you lend me my own spare? I think I dropped my keys at Vernon’s.”

“Yeah I think I’ve got it on my ring,” he rummages around his pockets for a moment until you hear the familiar jingle of his keys. There are only four that adorn the metal hoop; his apartment’s, his mailbox’s, Seungcheol’s shop, and the most recent addition: yours.

“Roommate not home?” He questions as the two of you make your way inside, kicking off your shoes as you beeline to your kitchen.

“At some B. Altman holiday extravaganza with her beau,” pulling two glasses from a cabinet and grabbing a nearby bottle from the small section of your kitchen dedicated to alcohol, “Nightcap?”

“A small one,” Wonwoo nods as you come into the room, he’s standing over your record player, turning it on and beginning to play whatever was on the platter. You set the glasses down onto the coffee table and pry the cork out of the bottle, pouring two small glasses as he falls into the sofa beside you.

“I hope Delamain’ll do?” You set down the bottle and pass a glass to Wonwoo, only settling down on the couch once your own glass is in hand.

“It’s perfectly fine,” he sips at his glass, setting it down on the settee as he muses some more, “What record is this?”

“Ella Fitzgerald, mom gave it to me for my birthday last year, it’s one of her favorites.” Sipping from your own glass steadily turns into you just downing the liquid in one go. The glass hits the end table with a clink when you set it down, Wonwoo’s free hand resting on your thigh as he listens to the music wafting through the air.

“It’s lovely,” he sighs out as you rest your head on his shoulder, the scent of his Pour Monsieur cologne invading your senses as you settle. The meticulous grazing of his fingers over your thigh causes you to sigh, wanting to sink further into him.

“Can you kiss me?” The words fall breathlessly from your lips, as his fingers trace the hem of your dress. And he does, turning his head to crash against you with such voraciousness that your teeth click against each other before he steadies and falls into motion with you. The pair of you stay like that for a moment, before you feel his hand slip under your leg, urging you to sit atop him.

You straddle his waist, feeling a hardness beginning to strain against his trousers as you grind down onto his lap. He lets out a moan, probably the sweetest thing you’d ever heard, his eyelids fluttering as you do it again. A smirk graces your lips, your hands trailing from his chest to the button on the front of his pants, the fabric coarse under your touch as you move to unfasten it. Before you could, you feel a pair of warm hands atop yours, you looked up to see a wide-eyed Wonwoo.

“I didn’t think I’d be doing this today, so my underwear isn’t exactly mood appropriate—” He says all too quickly for you to comprehend fully, “Just don’t judge me too hard.”

“They can’t be— Is that Mickey Mouse?” You catch the name on the waistband of his underwear, hesitating on releasing any more of the animated character for your eyes to see.

“And I think you’ve just killed the mood,” he groans, his head falling onto the back pillow as his hands fall atop the couch cushions.

“No, I didn’t,” you lean down for a kiss, rolling your hips over him, feeling that he was almost fully erect. His hands fly back to your sides, guiding you along as he lifts his pelvis to meet yours. “I think they’re cute but maybe leave them home next time.”

“Next time?” He mused, looking up at you through clouded eyes, a joking tinge added to his voice “What makes you think there’s going to be a next time?”

“Call it foresight,” shoulders shrugging as you look down at him, your head tilted ever so slightly “and you don’t seem like the hit it and quit it type, baby.” He’d slept over at your apartment before, maybe you’d had a few drunken makeout sessions but nothing ever this sobering, this far. In hindsight maybe you should’ve been nervous, let the butterflies in your stomach take over and calm you down. You’re not sure why you’d taken such a confident route with him, it just seems like he needed it.

“Baby,” the word fell out as a whisper as you saw the faint pinkness of his cheeks in the glow that emanates from the lamp to his right, “Can you spare me any further embarrassment and just take them off already?”

“It doesn’t feel like you’ve got anything to be embarrassed about,” your hand brushing his away from the front of his pants, you sit up on your knees, “Mind kicking them off for me?”

He readily began to comply as you tried to maneuver without inhibiting him, you noticed him watching you, a hunger in his gaze that sent shivers down your spine. His hands still for a moment and his head twists to look towards the kitchen where the entryway is.

“Fuck— is someone else here?” He asks and you listen to the familiar sound of your front door unlocking; it doesn’t open but you can hear loud footfalls and an even louder voice talking outside of the door.

“Sooyoung?” You call out after you were sure the voices had stopped, walking to the kitchen when you hear your roommate's keys hitting the kitchen counter “I thought you were staying at your boyfriend’s?”

“The asshole broke up with me because he wanted to be Holly Golightly. Him! He might have astoundingly good looks for it but I think I’m a little prettier, don’t you think?” The door of the fridge slamming shut, a rustle around the utensil drawer as she looks for a spoon. She did look stunning as the Hepburn character; you have to admit. “They’re re-airing that episode of Perry Mason if you want to watch it.”

“Wonwoo’s actually over so I think I’m just going to call it a night,” You say, leaning against the doorframe, watching her begin to dig into a tub of ice cream. “I’ll be sure to rant about your ex with you tomorrow.”

“You’d really do that?” A sigh as she shoves the spook into her mouth, “I’ll try not to wake you guys up when I get up for work tomorrow.”

“Thanks, Sooyoung,” a smile before you slip away and head back into the living room. “Alright Woo, it’s time for bed.”

“Alright,” Wonwoo pushes himself off of the couch, buttoning his pants and shouting out a ‘Goodnight Sooyoung!’ before ducking into your room. With his long strides he walks to your bed and subsequently falls into it as you turn to close the door behind the two of you.

“Don’t you want to change, Dr. Holmes?” You note his still costumed self as you look at his sprawling figure on the bed, “I think I’ve got your bed clothes from the last time you were here… Not sure if I cleaned them though.”

He huffs, “Forget it, I’m going to sleep.” He crawls to his side, blanketing himself with your duvet as you go into your bathroom to remove your makeup and change.

You can hear him softly snoring as you exit the restroom, your face still a little damp and the scent of your cleanser tingling your nose. Sooyoung’s turned off the music in the living room, the garbled sounds of the small black and white tv quietly floating in under your door. It takes a moment, but you climb into bed next to Wonwoo, pulling the duvet up to your chin before you shut your eyes and fall into a dreamless slumber.

It isn’t sunny out when you wake up, you don’t want to look at your clock for fear that your alarm was about to go off and you’d miss the opportunity to sleep in a few minutes more. An arm draped over you, even in sleep Wonwoo was a cuddler. Normally you weren’t opposed unless it was the summertime and it was unbearably hot outside.

“You know,” you hear him mumble tiredly, as if he senses that you’ve woken up too, “I always thought your apartment would be much more… bookier.” With the way his voice rasps with fatigue you’re not sure if he’s fully awake or half asleep.

“What were you expecting? Books wall to wall?” eyes still closed as you pull your duvet closer to you, feeling his arm tense around your waist.

“Kind of, something akin to a fairytale library,” his breath hot on your back, the hairs on the back of your neck raising at the sensation. “Like uhm— some Grimm story… Oh,” voice perking, “Can we go for that Halloween next year? You didn’t even tell me what you were going as until I saw you tonight.”

“You want to have a couple’s costume?”

“Yeah,” breathing slowly as if he’s falling back asleep again,”Maybe Lucy and Ricardo, that’d be fun.”

The next time you wake up, the sun’s blaring into your eyes with an intensity you had never asked for.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit,” Wonwoo’s mumbling and shuffling around your room, sunlight was pouring in from your windows and he looked heavenly even in his manic state.

“What’s wrong?” Stifling a yawn behind your hand as you watch him frantically feel his pockets.

“It’s nine-thirty, We— I overslept,” another string of curses escaping him as he looks around your room, “Do you have a phone I can use?”

“It’s on the dresser.” You point lazily to the red rotary.

You hear the dial tone ring a few times before someone on the other end picks up, “Mingyu can you put my client on the line?” A pause, “Yes I know I’m late.” Another pause before Wonwoo speaks again, “Hello Mr. Smith? Yes, this is Wonwoo Jeon. I'm running a little late for our appointment, I had bit of an emergency and— Huh? Oh, yes, of course. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“Are you in trouble?”

“Only minorly,” he frowns, “You wouldn’t happen to have a suit perfectly tailored for me to wear, would you?”

“Can’t say that I do, why don’t you just go in what you’re wearing?”

“I am not going dressed up as Sherlock Holmes for this client. I have some pride, you know.”

“You’re literally wearing Mickey Mouse underwear,” you snort, “it doesn’t look that bad anyway, just don’t wear the hat and lose the pipe. Maybe the cloak too but it’s kind of sexy.”

“Don’t try to tempt me,” he groans, buttoning and zipping his pants, “I’m late enough as is.”

“I’d offer you an iron if Sooyoung hadn’t broken mine, that shirt looks super wrinkly now that I see it in the sunlight,” you note, he still looked nice though. He would probably look nice in anything he wore.

“Ugh, really?” Hands running over the wrinkled fabric he sighs to himself, “I’d say I’ve looked worse, but I normally have myself together.”

“Good luck. I, for one, am going back to sleep.” You sigh and fall back into your blankets, not wanting to leave the sanctuary of warmth quite yet.

“Now who’s the baby?” He scoffs and you hear him tread to the side of the bed, a kiss planted on your forehead as you crinkle your nose up at him. “I’ll call you later today?”

“I’ll talk to you then.”

1964, Late Autumn. The rain began only a few minutes into your trek to the cafe, your umbrella weeping with the droplets as they roll off its surface as you trudge down the street. There’s a rumble in the distance but you’re not sure if it’s the local train station or thunder somewhere off beyond the city. Your other hand in your pocket, running your finger along the ridges of your shop’s key. While you know you’d locked it, you can’t help but have the underlying fear that you’d left the door wide open so that anyone could just walk in. Although you’re not quite sure what they’d take, a few blank notebooks don’t seem like it’d do too well in any sort of underground market.

By the time you pull yourself from your thoughts, you’re standing in front of a small cafe that feels more like a second home to you than your own apartment did at this point. The door swings open, you stand in the entranceway so that you can close your umbrella and leave it in the small stand upfront before you head fully inside. It smells like autumn, or at least the coffee’d variant of it. Pumpkin, nutmeg, and a few other scents you can’t quite pinpoint wafting through the air as you walk up to the counter to place your order. You pick out a few pastries as well and ask that they’re brought out when your coffee is ready. A hand to remove the paper-wrapped book under your arm so you can reach for your wallet, realizing then that the water had soaked into the leather. The wrapping paper now a little damp from where it’d brushed against your coat, you pick it back up as well as grab the receipt from the barista before scouring the cafe for what you’d come here to do in the first place.

Wonwoo’s dozing off when you find him in the back corner of the coffee shop. His jacket slung on the chair beside him, a scarf thrown haphazardly atop it as he leans with his head tilting backwards, pretty much dead to the world. Had the two of you not been frequent customers you’re sure that he would’ve been kicked out by now. But there he was, black turtleneck, tailored pants, and the cartoon bandages he loves so much wrapped tightly around his fingertips.

He doesn’t wake up when you accidentally scrape your chair on the ground when you pull it back to sit across from him nor does he wake when you drop the paper-bound book atop the table with a loud thud. Wonwoo does, however, wake when you brush your hand gently atop his, nearly falling out of his chair as his eyes open wider than you’d ever seen someone’s do.

“That wasn’t funny,” he frowns as you snicker, glancing over to the counter trying to act as if he’s regained his composure, “did you already order?”

“For me? Yes,” you place your bag in the chair adjacent to you, shrug off your raincoat and hang it on the back of your chair. “For you, what is it that you get? Flat white, two sugars, low fat milk?”

“That’s it,” he hums, leaning his head back once more. It must’ve been another sleepless night for him.

“You should be thankful I’ve got an exceptional memory,” you frown as he can’t see you, he overworks himself too much and if you ever try to bring it up he brushes it off with a wave and an excuse of ‘I’m just doing what I love’.

“You know,” he begins, leaning his head back up, opening his eyes to look at you. There was something shining behind them that you’d only seen on a handful of occasions; he has an idea and he’s not sure that you’ll like it, “I was wondering if you’d model a dress for me? Not for a fashion show or anything. I just think it’d look good on you.”

His gaze breaks from yours to look at the aisle behind you, you turn and see the barista coming with your drinks and assortment of baked goods. After a few repetitious ‘thank you’s she leaves and the pair of you are left alone once more.

“Are you flirting with me?” An eyebrow piqued as you looked at him. He’d asked you to do some of the strangest things before, going from the mundane ‘I think we need to get annual tickets to the opera just in case I forget your birthday and it’ll be a birthday present’ to ‘I swear to god if we don’t rescue this cat right now I’m never calling you again’. But it was two am and a sorely inebriated Wonwoo had thought that a raccoon was a cat as it rummaged through the garbage. That had also been the night where he’d serenaded you with his own rendition of Blossom Dearies ‘Dance Only With Me’ and Sinatra’s ‘I’m a Fool to Want You’; he’d broken down crying at the latter and you’d forced him to go to bed early. He only went on the condition that you’d hug him as he slept. It was certainly an interesting way to spend your first date together.

“Do you want me to be? I’d say it’s fairly doable,” He winks as he drinks from his mug, blowing on its contents beforehand to cool the brew.

A laugh, the brown paper under your fingertips wrinkling as you strain your fingers and push it towards him. It slides across the wood with relative ease, your finger partially tearing the paper where it had been dampened by the rain.

“I brought you your book.”

“Unlined and all?” He asks as he sets down his cup, shifting himself forward to get a better look.

“Unlined, flexible binding, the works.”

“You’re a lifesaver,” he sighs, taking the still wrapped book into his grasp.

“I know,” you smile, watching as his fingers toy with the twine that kept it together.

“Hello? Paging Ms. Bookbinder, you there?” Wonwoo’s hand waves in front of your face, suddenly you’re back in reality and trying to remember the conversation. You didn’t realize you’d zoned out that hard.

“Yes Mr. Reichelt?” You question, looking down as his finger’s unlace the twine you’d wrapped around the paper packaging.

“Don’t call me that I am much cooler than Franz Reichelt, and less dead, for that matter.”

“Can you say that after you drink your coffee?” You poke jokingly while he eyes his mug with a wary glance.

“Anyway, were you even listening to me?” He leans towards you, elbows resting on the tabletop and a slight curvature to his smile that looked far too playful for the current moment. It stilled your heart for a second before you shake your head at him.

“Not really, no.” You confess, sipping from your cup, “What is it?”

“I was asking if you would let me make a dress for you. I’ve had this idea in my mind for weeks and I finally got this mulberry silk imported from Lyon and it’s too good not to use immediately.”

“I don’t even need a dress like that, Wonwoo.” You frown, picking at one of the pastries in front of you, pinching off a piece before stuffing it into your mouth. “I’m not exactly the type that goes to parties where I’d need a silk dress.” You think that the last party you’d attended you’d worn a sweater and a dress from your roommate’s closet, nothing remotely close to what he was proposing.

“You don’t even know what it looks like,” he pouts, “All I need are your measurements, you won’t even have to see the thing if you don’t want to.”

A sigh, “Fine. When do you want me to drop by?”

“Does Tuesday around ten work for you?”

“I should be able to get Vernon to look over the shop while I’m gone.”

1964, Winter. The ringing of your shop’s bells draws you to the front room, your hands wrought with binding glue, you try to rub them on the apron you wear to rid yourself of the sensation. Before you can ask what the customer needs you stop in your tracks, head tilting to the side, “Isn’t it your day off?”

“It is,” Wonwoo’s voice is cheery as he walks in further, looking at the array of newly bound books sitting out on display.

“What are you doing here?”

“Am I not allowed to want to see you?” You fluster at the words, hard to hide the small smile that forms on your lips.

“I mean, you can, it’s just that I’m working.” You motion to the store, to the few customers browsing the items.

“You’ve spent however many nights watching me hem skirts and taper jackets; I think it’s time I return the favor.” A nod of his head as he pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose, “What can I do to help?”

“What the hell’s Pincushion doing here?” Before you’re able to open your mouth, Vernon comes out of the back room with a stack of books in his grasp, “I thought you’d be holed up in your shop by now.”

“It’s my day off.”

“And you’re spending it… here…” The thud of books landing on a nearby table as the skepticism in Vernon’s voice rises.

“Yep.”

“He must really like you,” Vernon scoffs, going to grab a different selection of books off of another shelf. He turns to you and asks, “Can you grab me the leather samples from the back? I think Maisel’s coming in today and you know how he gets.”

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” You shake your head and head to the back room to search for the swatches.

While he waits, Wonwoo notices a small web lingering in the intersection of two walls, the sunlight glinting off its strands having been what alerted him to his presence in the first place. At first, he thinks to sweep it away with a broom he knows is hidden somewhere in your storeroom. You weren’t the biggest fan of bugs or arachnids; he was surprised you hadn’t rid your shop of it by now. But he can’t find it within himself to brush the web asunder. It had worked hard to build and craft its home; he knew firsthand how difficult creating something from nothing was.

“Her name is Jorōgumo.” Vernon had walked up behind Wonwoo with little announcement. The younger jumps, turning his head to look at the other. “I offered to kill her… him…? For her but she said it was eating the bugs and to let it be.”

Wonwoo eyes the fat-bodied spider, “Why is it named that?”

“It’s a fairytale from Japan, there’s a spider that looks like a woman. It entices men to follow her and then eats them while they’re distracted,” Vernon explains, the sound of the storeroom opening behind him.

“Are you bullying Arachne again?” You frown, handing the swatches to Vernon and looking up to the small web in the corner.

“I am not bullying Jorōgumo.”

“If I’m keeping a spider in my shop, I am not naming it after a monster.”

“And a heretic is better?” Vernon scoffs, tapping Wonwoo on the shoulder, “What do you think, Pincushion?”

“I’m just wondering why both the myths have to be women,” he shrugs his shoulders and looks to you, “Do you think you’d be free this evening so I can take your measurements? I finally have some free time to start working on that dress.”

“I think so,” a nod as you look at Vernon, “Mind looking after the shop for a bit?”

1965, Early Spring “Didn’t you already measure me?” Wonwoo’s hands hold a rolling measuring tape as he holds it up to your forearm as you ask.

“Yeah, but I want to make sure this is perfect.” Tape lowered; he writes down the number into one of the journals he’d brought with him to your apartment. Trailing away from that your eyes look to the bouquet he brought when he’d come over.

“What’s the deal?” Brow furrowing at the pink, red and white blooms, “You never give me flowers.”

“It’s a special occasion,” Beaming, he’s as bright as the sun. A jilted visage against the cool tones of your apartment’s interior. He looks up to you with a vividness in his eyes, “Your boyfriend’s going to Paris.”

“What do you mean Paris?” A hitch in your voice as you ask, a strange and warped confusion overcoming you.

“Seungcheol got me an apprenticeship with one of his friends, he’s going to be in town in a few weeks to talk about it with me and I want to show off the dress there.” He’s speaking at a mile a minute, a clear excitement as he beams.

“Don’t fall for some mysterious Parisian woman while you’re there,” You poke, still unsure about how you even feel about this.

“I doubt I’ll have time to even wander the city. With all of the workshops and sessions we’ll have. It’s going to be the opportunity of a life— ow—” he says as you gently hit his shoulder. “I won’t fall for some other girl, I promise,” He laughs and continues to take your measurements.

1965, Late Spring “Did you have a good time tonight?” The lock clicking into place as he asks, your footsteps falling on the floor as you make your way to his workbench in the center of what would’ve been his living room had he not made it into a makeshift workshop.

You note the tools, the fabrics and array of swatches that litter his home, the pincushion he wears on his wrist as he works settled onto the tabletop. It’s as if the apartment is a representation of him, messy in ambition but persevering through the struggles as he tries to find the limelight of his own. A smile forming as he walks over to you.

“I had a wonderful time, thank you for inviting me.”

It had been a small gathering at the tailor shop, a small dinner with Seungcheol, Wonwoo, Seungcheol’s friend and Wonwoo’s future mentor Jeonghan, and yourself. The entirety of the night you’d felt a knot forming in your stomach, the anxiety of Wonwoo’s future endeavors weighing heavily on your shoulders. You want to be happy for him but the closer it gets to Wonwoo’s departure for Paris leaves you feeling more and more despair at the event of it all.

“Thank you for coming,” Wonwoo’s hands find your sides as you lean your backside against the rough wooden edge of the table. “You made it all the more bearable,” smiling softly in the dim lighting of the apartment, he leans forward and places a soft kiss on your lips. The wine from earlier lingers on his breath, you’re sure it does the same to yours, the darkness of the red already making you warm and your body feeling weightless, almost as if you were floating in a pool of water.

You part, staring into each other’s eyes, a silent conversation before he’s leaning in again to find your lips. His kiss seems as if it seeks to steal the breath from your lungs. To devour you entirely until all you can think of is his closeness, the softness of his lips atop yours, of just him. The woolen fabric of his overcoat is rough under your fingertips as you move your hands from the workshop table to his shoulders, gently pulling at the cloth to urge him to discard the garment. His hands leave your sides momentarily as he shrugs the jacket off, the fabric falling and pooling on the floor at his feet. A metallic clang echoing around the space as he leans forward to lock his lips with yours.

“Wonwoo,” you breathe, soft pants escaping the both of you as you turn your head from him, your eyes trailing to the sewing scissors that had clattered onto the floor. Another rustling of fabric and you realize he’s discarded his suit jacket as well.

“Let it be,” a hand under your chin, guiding you back to the comfort of his lips. He presses himself into your touch, the way your fingers dance along the smooth cotton of his starched shirt, fiddle with the buttons and run your fingertips atop the small engravings adorning them.

“Are we really going to do this in your workspace?” You look up to his darkened gaze, your voice caught in your throat as his own fingers move to toy with the neckline of your dress. Gentle, electric touches that have you reeling.

“Does that bother you?” His lips leave yours once more as he places soft, yearning kisses to your cheek, trailing down your jaw and then to your neck. He raises a hand to pull away the neckline of the dress to allow him better access to the apogee of nerves nestled at the point where your shoulder and neck meet. Teeth biting ever so gently that you would have mistaken it as a light graze had you not felt the sharp pinch. It pulls an almost whining sound from your vocal cords, causing your head to tilt to allow him more space to roam.

Lips curling into a smile as he pulls away, his hand sliding from the table to your arm, then raising and gently pulling at your hair, “You didn’t answer me.”

“God, fuck, no it doesn’t bother me,” you trap his lips in yours, tilting your head up so the orange glow of the street lamps outside shine into your eyes before you shut them, finding yourself lost in the entity of your lover. The slowest ministrations of your hips trying to roll against his, to seek out friction and closeness and the yearning of him to once again be a part of you, “Wonwoo.” Your tone is darker, needier, wanting as he presses his clothed self flush against you.

A huff of air escaping you as he once again pulls his lips away from you, and then the gentle rolling of his hips against yours ceases as well. Eyes opening to find him looking over you, not scrutinizing, it seems as if he was rather admiring the picture that sat before him.

Head tilting, the presence of desire absent for a moment as he muses, “I think it looks amazing.” He hums as he lowers himself to his knees, somehow the softness of his voice makes you want to comply with every word uttered, “Can you sit on the table for me?”

Hands brushing against tulle and satin and a plethora of other fabrics you could care less about at this moment in time as you find your hold on the table as you move to sit atop its surface, your heeled shoes clattering to the floor as you do so. Wonwoo’s fingers caress your calves as he leans himself closer to your core, his warm breath making your mind conjure some of the most unspeakable thoughts.

“I’ll have to let the designer know he did an amazing job,” you smile, involuntarily shivering as he slides his hands upwards, the hem of your dress inching towards your stomach the further he ascends.

His face merely inches from your core now, your hips squirming at the proximity. “I think he’d be appreciative of the feedback,” Wonwoo smiles, his face now obscured from vision due to the collection of fabric, you have half a mind to tear it off of you, not that you ever realistically would. It’s far too precious.

The rip of fabric, the coolness of the air hitting your now exposed sex, you whine in protest as he begins to slide the now torn fabric of your underwear away from you.

“I’ll get you some more,” his right hand hovers over you, he uses his middle finger to swipe up the length of your slit, causing you to draw in a sharp breath.

“Are you a lingerie atelier now— Fuck,” you begin to joke before he begins to tease your clit with the tip of his finger. He moves his middle finger slowly, languidly as he draws deep breaths and stifled moans from your lips.

After a moment, your own hand moves to your breast, trying to fondle the flesh through several layers of fabric. He changes his approach, moving lover to tease your entrance before he slips his finger inside of you and with a moan you roll your hips to try and meet him halfway.

It’s not until he eases in another finger and begins to slowly draw them in and out of you as well as latch his lips to your clit that your vocalizations rise in volume. The digits curl inside of you, his tongue swirls around the sensitive bundle of nerves and your head finds itself lost in the euphoria of the moment, your hand falling away from your breast to find itself running through Wonwoo’s locks. He hums against you as your fingers tighten their hold, nearly sending you over the edge.

“Are you close?” You look at him, lips coated with the sheen of you, a tinge to his voice that straddles between curiosity and a carnal question.

Hand moving from his hair to his cheek you can only nod, trying to roll your hips to the increasing speed of his fingers inside of you. His eyes watching you as you do finally reach your climax, chortled breaths escaping you as well as a slew of incoherent words and his name. Wonwoo can feel the way your walls spasm around his fingers and sighs to himself as he pulls them from you, wishing that it had been more than just his digits that had made you cum.

You sit up, a little dazed and a lot more aroused than you were when you’d first stepped into the apartment. Wonwoo rises to greet you, your lips clash together and you can taste yourself on his tongue as you vie for dominance.

“Switch with me?” You ask, parting for air, voice whispering as your hands move to once again toy with the hem of his collared shirt.

And he does, backing away from you enough so you can land your feet on the floor and trade places with him. Your turn to take control for a moment, you feel the hardness of his cock through his pants as you tentatively palm it, trying to elicit some sort of sound from him.

“Come on, Woo, I know you’ve got it in you,” you tease, running your hand up and down the etching of his member, slowly and meticulously trying to draw him out of his shell.

“Have what—” he cuts himself off as you run your fingers over his cockhead, a low groan as if he hadn’t wanted you to hear it.

“Have that,” you lean forward, pressing a kiss to his cheek. The taste of salt greeting you, the sheen of sweat on his face glittering in the lights dimly illuminating his apartment. You fall to your knees, sending shivers down your spine as the cool air that balloons the skirt of your dress as your knees hit the floor with a dull thud. Hands sliding up his thighs, you move to his belt to hastily unfasten it.

It falls away, as do his pants and underwear, you were going to mention the lack of cartoon characters adorning it, but you were too preoccupied taking him into your mouth to comment.

Tongue running over the slit on his head, it draws the sweetest sounds from him, saccharine-like honey that drips from his moans and rings around your ears. His hand running through his hair, his other gripping the table as he tries to stop himself from bucking into your mouth as you take him further.

Your knees ache from the rough floor, the pain not deterrent enough for you to forget about the wetness between your legs. Fidgeting as your head bobs up and down on his length, you don’t think he takes notice. Yet Wonwoo was more perceptive than he let on at times, considering his hand now rests upon your hollowing cheek.

“Get up,” Wonwoo urges, his voice hoarse as he tries to gently nudge you away from his cock. “I want to cum inside of you.” When you do let him leave your mouth, a thin line of spittle trailing from his head to your lips you hear him sigh out again. It was so easy to get a reaction out of him, he almost feels like putty in the palm of your hand.

The indents from the wood settle into the flesh of your thighs as he helps you stand and lightly pushes you back onto the table. His belt clattering onto the floor as he fully kicks off his pants, his shoes, and briefs.

You wonder at this point if you should take off the dress, but as your hand begins to reach for the zipper, he stops you, “No, keep it on.”

He kisses you again, taking his hands to gently pry your legs open so he can align himself with your core. Lips parting, you feel his cock brush up against your entrance before he pushes himself into you, his hands moving to trail up the sides of your legs. Slowly, feeling every inch enveloping him as his fingers tighten their hold on the skin of your hips.

“Fuck,” he moans, fully sheathing himself inside of you. His brown eyes meeting yours, tongue darting out to wetten his lips, “Do you need a minute?”

When you shake your head no you fully expect him to start rutting into you with reckless abandon as he did most nights you stayed together. But he doesn’t, instead he starts to roll his hips into you, not trying to fuck the life out of you, rather trying to gauge how and what made you feel good.

“Woo,” you mutter with half-lidded eyes, hands trailing up his arms and to his shoulders, your nails digging into the now exposed skin. It was sure to leave marks, but only small crescent moons that would fade away come morning.

It’s whispered ‘I love you’s’ that fall from his lips as your forearms wrap around his neck to pull you up and draw him in closer, a thrumming in your chest each time he says it. And you repeat it back to the best of your ability, to find a constancy in him that hadn’t ever made itself presentable to you in a lover or significant other before.

For a moment you’re able to lose yourself in him, to forget that he’d be leaving you soon and your heart along with it. You’re enveloped in the presence of him and you wouldn’t have it any other way, you wouldn’t let it be any other way.

Wonwoo’s thrusts become more sporadic as he reaches his end, one of his hands leaving your side and moving to your clit to try and bring you over with him one more time. You’re sensitive and strung out on him, legs tensing as they try to close, stopping around his waist as you press your forehead to his shoulder.

He cums with little warning, other than his hand moving from your clit and back to your side as he stills himself within you. The sweat collected on both of your bows intermingles when he presses his forehead against yours. His breathing slows as he regains his composer, kissing you as he slides himself out of you. When he pulls away to slide on his briefs you land your feet on the ground with shaky legs, holding the edge to balance yourself.

Wonwoo turns back to you and almost has to stifle a short laugh, your face contorting to the feel of his essence leaving you, it’s strange but not overtly bad. Just not something you’re fully accustomed to.

“Let’s wash up, hm?” Hand taking yours, he leads you to his small bedroom, only stopping midway so he can help you out of your clothes. He unzips the dress, the cool air of his apartment fully encasing you as he pulls the fabric off your shoulders. You feel his lips press a soft kiss onto the nape of your neck and he catches the scent of the perfume you’d applied earlier in the evening. The dress falls, pooling at your feet and you step from its depths and onto the hardwood floor. Before you’re able to reach for the dress, Wonwoo’s swept it up, already moving to hang it in his closet.

The two of you shower together, reminiscing on a handful of occasions with him that you’d fully devoted to memory but also of the future as well. Wonwoo was excited to leave, every mention of it fractalizing your heart just a little bit more, not that you’d let him know, you just put on a smile and tell him how happy you are for him.

You borrow a shirt from him to wear to bed, exiting the bathroom while he brushes his teeth and combs his hair. While he does, you wander his room, looking at the shelves that adorn the space. Most books atop them are about tailoring or sewing, things that wouldn’t typically draw your attention. You then spot a few that are familiar, the bindings nostalgic under your fingertips as you trace them, no names or words that address their titles.

“I never realized I made you so many,” You muse, looking at Wonwoo who’s just exited the bathroom.

“I have been your loyal customer for a while now, you know.” He notes, falling into his bed and collecting the blankets, he pats the mattress beside him to beckon you closer.

You fall back into the bed beside him after you saunter over, encased in the blankets for a moment by the duvet he tosses atop you before you look at him, “I don’t want you to go.” It’s a simple statement that carries all too much weight for those six words alone, they lie heavily in your chest, saying them aloud does nothing to stop that.

“I know, I know,” There’s a hurt in his voice as he knows just how difficult it’ll be to part from you. “We’ve still got almost two months left before I go though, let’s try to make the most of it, okay?”

1965, Summer It had only been a month since Wonwoo landed in Paris. His French is awful, and he only knows how to call things pretty, cute or something lewder thanks to the teachings of his fellow apprentices. There are bags under his eyes from another sleepless night, a cigarette hanging from his lips (a terrible habit he’s picked up as of late), and the mute sounds of some song playing out of the bar he’d just crawled out of. It’s probably Bridget Bardot but he can’t tell from his position, not that he can understand anyway, he’s barely been able to comprehend his own thoughts.

His fingers ache, only nude bandages that are a little too pink wrapped around them because he can’t find the cartoon ones that you’d given him tucked away in his things. His eyes feel strained, tired, and pulsing from overanalyzing stitching and searching cloth for tears, pulls or other impurities. Montmartre was beautiful, not that he was able to see it often as he was constantly working. And if he wasn’t working, he was probably trying to catch up on lost rest.

This was his dream, a part of it though, the other half had you somewhere tucked away in the echelons of his fantasy life. Although he was doing what he wanted, what he loved, there was something about you being in absentia that had him feeling empty. He’d written countless letters but only signed and sent a handful, worried of saying too much and worried of saying too little. To you and his father, his father that had sent him on this path at a young age. ‘Make something of yourself,’ he’d said when Wonwoo was seven, ‘you’re too ambitious not to.’

If he could laugh at him now, he would. But his father was an ocean away, retreated somewhere in the depths of Wonwoo’s childhood that he’d rather leave behind.

Yet on the other hand, he’d written you what felt like every day and struggled with each composition. Wonwoo had never missed someone’s voice as much as yours, the gentle feel of your hand intertwined with his or even the sounds of your footsteps trailing through your shop. He’s supposed to be happy, why isn’t he happy?

The cigarette burns, the acrid smoke filtering into his mouth as he inhales, a plume of what’s left leaving him when he huffs out, the cigarette dropped onto the ground, smoldering away. Hand flitting through his knotted locks, the dampness of sweat clinging to the pads of his fingertips as he brushes over his brow.

Most people had dropped everything to work under Jeonghan, a certified maestro of their craft. And Wonwoo had dropped everything, not begrudgingly at first, but as the dog days of the beginning of summer and the end of spring drew near there was a rising anxiety within his chest. If you had asked him not to leave as he was standing at the terminal’s gates, he probably wouldn’t have gone at all.

He’s been giving up more and more lately; sleep, adequate meals, a solitary living space. Wonwoo’s worried when this serpent of work will seek out to devour you away too. It’s not that he wants to let you go, but if he’s to make something of himself he might have to, as cruel and malicious it may seem. In that you waiting for him was burdensome, not to him but to yourself. While he’s off gallivanting in an ancient city you’re in your shop, was he just supposed to expect you to idly sit by and wait for him? He’s not sadistic enough to tether you down to the unknown.

1965, Late Autumn. You’d come home that morning with a new record tucked under your arm, the words ‘Rubber Soul’ peeking over the paper sheath that the store had given you as you set it down on your countertop after discarding your shoes and jacket by the door. You hum to yourself, shedding your bag, reaching for the new record, and bringing it over to your player, Sooyoung’s worn copy of one of Billie Holiday’s albums resting on the platter. With gentle hands you remove it from the spindle, tucking it away in its cover before releasing Rubber Soul from its own and setting it onto the player. System turned on, you place the needle on the record and adjust the volume so the first few riffs of ‘Drive My Car’ begin playing through the speakers.

Nodding your head to the rhythm, you set down the cover and make your way to the kitchen, noticing the small pile of postcards and letters you’d received from Wonwoo over the last few months. He’d been so busy he hadn’t really had the time to call or write a lot for that matter. But it wasn’t like calling was free, especially an international connection. With each new card that he sent to you, there seemed to be less that he wrote of and more empty space adorning it.

“Hey,” You hear Sooyoung say as she exits her room, her purse in hand as she heads to the hall tree to grab a coat, “I’ve gotta head in, someone completely ruined the display for the winter collection.”

“I thought you were in charge of that?” A tilt of your head as she passes by. Sooyoung’s one of the floor managers of the flagship B. Altman some blocks away, and that left her unnecessarily stressed by the minute details of the store.

“I am, but I let one of the new girls try and set it up,” a frown as she opens the door, “That’s what I get for trying to take on a protegee. I’ll be back around dinnertime, okay?”

“I’ll see you then,” waving her off with a hand as the door slams shut, the sound of your friend’s key locking the door before the apartment falls into silence once more, the only sound coming from the next song on the vinyl.

Stifling a yawn with your hand you head to the living room, plopping down onto the sofa as you reach for a magazine atop the table. It was one of your roommate’s detailing a plethora of fashion information, this seemed something like Wonwoo could take to more so than yourself. Before you’re able to get lost in the pit of missing him again the phone on the table next to the sofa begins to ring.

“Hello?” Magazine tossed aside, you reach for the phone, pulling it to your ear as you lay reclined on the couch. Fully expecting a family member or one of Sooyoung’s friends over the line you sound a little more crass than normal.

“Whoa,” a familiar, achingly distant voice calls out, “Did I do something wrong?”

“Wonwoo?” Eyes widening, your grip on the phone tightening before your brow furrows and you sit up, “Where are you?”

“I’m actually in a phone booth outside of Jeonghan’s shop right now,” A short laugh, there’s something quiet about it, “I feel like I’m in some sort of film.”

“It sure sounds like you are,” distancing yourself from the line for a moment as the connection pops and crackles. Ear returning to the phone you feel your heart swell as you lean against your wall, “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too,” He sounds apprehensive, as if there’s something ruminating behind his lips, but he was too afraid to say it. “I’m sorry for not calling sooner, it’s just been extremely busy here.”

Twirling the phone cord absentmindedly with your finger you shake your head, not that he could see you, “It’s alright.” The disquiet in his voice puts you on edge, “What’s wrong?”

“I’ve been thinking,” He’s holding his breath, and you don’t realize that you are too.

“Of?”

“Ending this. Us.” There’s a pause, a bated breath, and a clearing of his throat before he begins to speak again. It sounds robotic, rehearsed, even. “I don’t want to leave you waiting for me when I don’t even know when I’ll be back.”

“If you don’t think I’d wait for you you’re ridiculous,” A confused tone to your voice, you blink several times as if that were the cure-all to comprehend what he was suggesting. “Is there someone else?”

“God, no, of course not. It’s just—” A break in the facade for a moment before it turns static again, “You deserve constancy. I don’t want you waiting around for me when you could be happier somewhere else with someone else who’s actually there for you.”

“Are you serious?” With the thought of him being an ocean away you could barely go as kicking and screaming as you wanted to, but you can’t. It’s hard to collect your thoughts with so many jumbling around your head.

“I’ll get Seungcheol or someone to stop by and get my things,” voice muffled, there was a small banging coming from the other end, as if someone’s hitting the outside of the phone booth that Wonwoo is situated in.

“No,” you frown, a heavy feeling settling into your stomach. “I’ll drop the dress and your things off at the shop.”

“Keep the dress, it was a gift,” his voice insists, sounding defeated and tired.

“I don’t want it, I want you, Wonwoo.”

He would rather watch the stars flicker and die from their sepulchered facades in the expanse above, watch the oceans shrivel and continents shrink, than be the source of your privation. It’s as if he can hear your heart break over the line. It isn’t loud, it isn’t ear shattering— it’s a hairline fracture that webs out and settles into every fiber of your being. He knows it because it’s the same thing he’s afflicted upon himself.

“I’m sorry, I love you but there’s no feasible way that I can—” he pauses, and you hear a voice tinned by the crackling line. It’s French, sounds angry and causes Wonwoo to speak into the phone once more, “I— I have to go. I’ll call you back later so we can talk about this, okay?”

“Okay,” the word is lifeless as it leaves your mouth, you hang up and pull the phone away from your ear as if you could still hear his voice after you’d killed the call.

You are a bag of bones, skin, and whatever else deigned itself rotted enough to crawl its way inside of you and flourish. Amber leaves looking more titian as you leave your apartment, a muted tone as you walk the streets and to your shop. The lights inside aren’t as bright as they once were, sounds far too muffled by the blood rushing to your ears as Vernon asks you what’s wrong.

1966, Winter “Try this one,” The bartender standing in front of you sets down another glass. He’d been talking to you on and off the whole night trying to get your opinions on different drinks he’d been concocting to try and get put on the menu.

“What is it?” Amber liquid swirled around what looked like a dried slice of orange. The whiff of something floral and reminiscent of anise hits your nose, causing your face to scrunch. “That’s not straight absinthe and cognac, is it?”

“Cognac Tesseron, Peychaud’s Bitters, simple syrup, and just the smallest taste of absinthe,” Carefully crafted and delicately handled you pick up the glass and observe it some more. “I’m thinking about calling it the Forget Me Not, but we’ll see what management thinks of that name.” Voice tinged with that oddly specific Brooklyn accent he turns to his other clientele, leaving you with the newest cocktail. Lips carefully pressed to the glass you drink, mulling over the flavors as you do so. After thinking about it you set the glass down, lips pursed together, it wasn’t a bad taste you just wished there were more acidic notes to it.

Alone. You sit alone in the dimly lit bar that denoted itself as La Fête. Why, you aren’t sure, but the cacophony of spirits mixed into the glass between your fingers is the only thing that has made you feel well the entire evening. Some comedian stands on the stage a few meters away, giving off a routine that isn’t hitting as well as it should be. There’s muffled laughs and chortles from the audience in front of him, yet you’ve barely heard a word he’s said.

“Mind if I join you?” A voice rings out to your right; you’re unable to see who it is until they take a seat next to you.

“Mr. Hong,” Eyebrows raised as Joshua turns to face you, “What brings you here?” You hadn’t seen him in a month or so, not after that had happened.

“Vernon told me I could probably find you here, and Sooyoung also told me about trying to cheer you up since the gifts she got you weren’t working,” A smirk playfully bouncing on his lips. “You look awful.” Hands folding atop each other as he adjusts himself in the seat.

“What makes you say that?” Scoffing as you bring your glass to your lips, taking a sip of your drink before setting it back down.

“Vernon did say you were going through something heavy.” His tone lowers, becoming more sympathetic and less lighthearted than it’d been a moment before.

The gentle ambiance of the bar around you, as well as the slew of alcohol in your drink, mellows your inhibitions and voice. It was the calmest you’d felt the entire night. “I just needed a break from all of this,” hand motioning towards your head.

“I can understand that” Pausing for a moment he opens a nearby menu, perusing the selections. “I just came from a conference in D.C., aren’t you going to ask why?”

“Hmm, why?” You pose, head tilting as you turn to look at him.

“We’re acquiring some major stock in Marriott,” He says with a playful lilt, “Forcing a bunch of bigwigs to give up their assets is an adrenaline rush I won’t get anywhere else but there.”

“Sounds… fun?”

“In reality it’s just a bunch of stuffy old men with their own hands up their asses,” he hums, “Although I guess I have to get used to it; I’ll be one of those men someday.”

“Joshua Hong you will never be like any of those men,” sigh losing itself in your glass as you bring it back to your lips.

“I appreciate the sentiment,” as he closes his menu, he calls the bartender over, ordering some drink that sounds all too extravagant for your taste.

The pair of you sit in silence for a few moments, your glass now set atop the marble bar as your eyes wander around the warm, eclectic interior. “Are you merging them with that Canadian group? I can’t remember their name.” Snapping your fingers together as you try and recall. You look back to Joshua, who was beginning to take a drink of another one of the bartender’s creations.

The glass now moved away, and he frowns into the back of his hand; you wonder if it’s due to the alcohol. Head shaking in the negative he answers, “I actually left that partnership a year or so ago, decided I didn’t want any of ‘Daddy’s Help’ and tried my own hand at it.” Leaning back, he adjusts the lapels of his suit jacket, “And I’ve been doing a pretty good job if I do say so myself.” His confidence is a manic beast at times, but it never fails to make you roll your eyes. “What about you? Gonna commercialize your shop anytime soon?”

“As if,” You snort and look towards the darkened windows of the venue, “I’m perfectly fine in my shop,” Elbow resting on the counter, you lay your cheek atop your hand as your hair falls around your face, looking up at Joshua as your cheeks warm with embarrassment, “It’s all I can manage.”

Joshua laughs, it’s hearty and you feel your pulse rise along with the heat in your cheeks, “Don’t sell yourself short.” Shoulder shrugging, he returns to his drink while you sit up, rubbing your cheek.

“We’ll see when I get there,” smirk showing itself again as his fingers trace circles on the light marble of the bar. “Oh, weird, crazy question really,” His hand moves to his jacket, fumbling around one of the inside pockets for a moment as he searches for something.

“Want to go to a wedding with me?” A piece of elegantly cut cardstock tossed down onto the bar, you don’t recognize the names scrawled onto the front of it in some pretentious calligraphy.

“Aren’t you dating that girl?” Fingers pulling the card closer, trying to recall the name, “Yoona or something? Why don’t you take her?”

Joshua almost chokes on his water as you speak, hitting his hand against his chest to get some air. “God no,” He coughed, setting his water glass down. “Yoona’s just a family friend, more like my big sister than anything else. If anything, my sister will get married before me.”

You nod your head in understanding, “Ah, is she still dating Seungcheol?”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t trust them to tell me if it was raining outside or not,” he muses. Suddenly his demeanor turns mischievous, you’re not sure how to properly describe it as he leans in towards you, the smirk back with a vengeance. “But why were you interested in who I’m dating? Are you curious?”

It takes most of your willpower to lean back away from him and roll your eyes as you scoff out, “As if.” He only increasingly gets closer before you put a hand on his shoulder and playfully push him back.

“And what about you?” Does he seem nervous? You hear a genuine interest in his voice, but you aren’t sure if you’re exaggerating it due to the miasma of spirits clouding your senses. “Has any prince charming come up and swept you off your feet yet?”

“Does it look like it?” Eyebrow raised, you motion to yourself, “Vernon told you why I’m here, didn’t he?” Frown settling onto your lips you finish your drink, setting it down back onto the bar with an audible clink.

“He may have mentioned it in passing,” Joshua mutters, finger rubbing along the rim of his glass.

“I haven’t spoken to him in weeks, months even and he has the audacity to send in an order?” You try your best to sound indignant, but the truth was that it’d felt like a stab to your heart to see the hastily signed ‘Wonwoo Jeon’ adorning the invoice. Your heart had almost stopped then, you’d thought that you and he were, at that point, separate entities once more. “He made it blatantly clear he wants nothing to do with me anymore, he can go woo as many Parisians as he’d like, I’m over it.” Not yet, you aren’t. But maybe repeating it enough will make it a reality.

“You know what I think?” Joshua asks, finishing the rest of his drink as you look at your empty glass.

“I’m not drunk enough?”

“I think you’re plenty gone. But I don’t think you’ve ever let anything destroy you this much, or if you have, I’m a terrible friend for not realizing it. And with that being said, I will personally take up the reins to try and get you out of this slump,”

“Any other thoughts, O wise and wonderful mood maker?”

“Yeah, this comedian’s garbage. I’ll take you to a Lenny Bruce set one day and you’ll laugh your ass off.”

“I appreciate it,” a snicker leaves you. “Anyway,” your eyes move to your watch, checking the time, “I should probably head back to my place, it’s getting late and I’ve got an early morning tomorrow.” You rummage around your bag for a crumpled mess of bills that you toss onto the counter in front of you.

You stand and begin moving towards the exit when Joshua speaks up, “Want me to walk with you?”

“If you want to,” pausing, you turn back to him and offer a smirk of your own, “it’s not too far away.” The two of you walk in silence through the winding interior of the bar as you make your way to the front entrance, you see through the large wooden doors that it is pitch black outside, thankfully the streetlights adorning the sidewalks keep things fairly visible. When the doors open and the two of you step outside you can’t help but let out a “Shit, it got cold.”

“Here,” Joshua shrugs off his already unbuttoned suit jacket and hands it to you, you can see the thin dress shirt he’s wearing, and you wonder how he’s not shivering himself. “Did you leave your jacket inside?” He asks as you drape the soft fabric over your shoulders.

“At the shop,” Standing outside, your toes on the edge of the sidewalk, your head cranes, trying to remember which way you’d walked here. “It’s…” you look at the signs at the end of the street, “that way,” hand motioning towards your abode once you recognize the names. “It’s about a fifteen-minute walk, I can always call a cab or something, so you don’t have to worry about it.”

“It’s alright,” His shoulders shrug as the two of you begin walking, “It’ll help the alcohol get out of your system.” Had he seen you stumbling on your feet on your way out? If he did, he doesn’t say as the two of you walk the uneven streets, pushing through masses of tourists and civilians parading around the city. It’s not long until the crowds wear thin, leaving you, Joshua, and the occasional pedestrian roaming the streets. “I’ve always loved this city,” Joshua muses as the two of you stroll through one of the many parks dotting the town.

Nodding, “It’s lively for sure.” Your hands move to close his jacket tighter around your bare shoulders, “I don’t think I could imagine leaving it.”

“Maybe for a summer home though?” Joshua laughs, moving his hands to his pockets. “I remember how you’d stay inside whenever it snowed or went below thirty when we were kids.”

Biting the inside of your cheek, “I wouldn’t say it’s that much of a problem anymore, I’m just a big fan of the sun in all its glory, not when it’s obscured behind a wall of cl—” Perhaps you would’ve finished that sentence had the heel of your, admittedly too high-heeled shoe not gotten caught between one of the junctures of the sidewalk, causing you to fall forward. You feel a pair of hands on you, one wrapped around your waist and one on your shoulder, as the ground rapidly rises to meet you.

Eyes closed you hear, “Are you alright?” as you’re hoisted back up onto your feet, never feeling the impact of the ground.

“I’m fine.” Once his hands had left you, you raise your hands to your cheeks, feeling the rushing blood warm your palms, “I guess I’m a little tipsier than I thought.”

Joshua looks at you for a moment, and then down to your feet, “I think you broke a heel.” Finger raised; you follow it downwards to look at the heel almost completely detached from the sole. “Here,” voice quickening as if to distract you from it, he takes your arm and puts it over his shoulder so you can lean some of your weight onto him, “wouldn’t want you to fall over again.” After offering him a quick smile and a small ‘thanks’ of gratitude you begin to walk again.

After a minute or so of walking, the pair of you take a turn onto one of the main drags of the city, the cool air soaking into you. “Do you mind if we stop for a second?” You ask, thinking you may have twisted your ankle when you tripped.

“Of course,” the two of you make your way to a bench along the sidewalk, you sit while Joshua stands next to you. It’s a moment of quiet before he speaks up again, “Are you feeling alright?”

You can only shake your head in the negative, for fear that you may explode should you open your mouth.

“What’s wrong?” He questions, sitting down next to you, his hand falling atop yours in an act of subtle comfort.

Everything. Your throat becomes dry as you lean forward and embrace him, unable to vocalize the horrid deluge of hopelessness and heartbreak washing over you.

You had seen the shop where Wonwoo was apprenticing when you’d gone into Seungcheol’s one morning, it had been featured in some editorial that he subscribed to. Seeing that it was a beautiful boutique and was quite revered among local and international audiences hadn’t dampened the blow at all. Wonwoo hadn’t been lying when he said it was the opportunity of a lifetime.

It still hurts. You’d been selfish in trying to make things work, too absorbed in it you hadn’t felt him slipping away until it was too late. Vernon had sat you down one day and told you to shape up. Wonwoo wasn’t coming back and the sooner you realized it the sooner you’d get over him. You don’t remember how long you cried into his shoulder for. For the eidolon of him was beginning to fade now, the lingering remnants of it still striking you to the core whenever you catch a glimpse of it.

“I just want to go home,” you try your best to sound strong, hating that the veneer you usually kept was able to slip so easily. Pulling away from the other you move to stand, kicking off your shoes and moving to hold them before you begin to walk.

“Aren’t your feet going to get cold? It’s nearly the middle of winter,” Joshua calls out after you as he catches up, unsure of how to go about comforting you.

“I’ll be fine,” your toes cold on the concrete, “It’s only a few blocks away.”

It’s silence once more as the pair of you two amble to your apartment, the windows dark when you approach, Sooyoung must be out again. A sigh leaving you, alone again.

“Thanks for walking with me, Shua.” You stop, turning to your accompaniment and smiling softly at him.

“Shua?” His brow raises at that, “Are you sure you’re not still drunk? I don’t think you’ve called me that since we were twelve.”

“Yeah, I know. But I mean it, thank you.” Your other friends had tried to console you but Joshua’s attempt had been the most successful so far that had gotten you to even budge ever so slightly from the slump you’d found yourself in.

1967, Summer. The sparkler hisses as Joshua hands it to you, the bright end flickering with every centimeter the flame engulfs. A smile on your lips as you look at him, an equally bemused smile gracing his face as he steps away and begins handing out sparklers to a few other guests. After the host finishes handing out the sticks a large chorus of ‘Happy Birthday’ begins to ring out, directed at Jihoon Lee.

You didn’t really know the guy, but Joshua said he was hosting a birthday bash at a lake house up in the Catskills this weekend and it was a good excuse to get away from the city for a bit. It was a work friend of his, not sure from which endeavor but you aren’t complaining. Work at the shop had been far too busy to manage with just Vernon and you, you’d been looking at several applicants, but you had a difficult time sifting through the resumes. This was a much needed, and much deserved, break away from it all.

Before the sparkler has a chance to burn down to your fingertips you blow it out and set it onto one of the porcelain plates atop the table in front of you. A small crowd had gathered to sing and with the rapidly setting sun it was difficult to see familiar faces among the crowd.

“Looking for someone?” A pair of hands placed on your hips as the question sounds out, the familiarity of it making you smile a little brighter.

“Just you,” You turn, looking at Joshua.

“Oh?” He questions, leaning in for a brief kiss before pulling away, “You’ve got that look on your face.”

“What look?”

“The one that means you’re thinking of something,” A sparkle in his eye, the light from the nearby dock casting a green glow onto the lawn.

“Just work things,” you admit, “Even if I’m miles away from the shop it’s still on my mind.”

“Work��s a sickness, isn’t it?” He mutters, “Well, they’ve already started to cut the cake, want to head in and grab a slice?”

“Sure,” you say as his hands leave your sides, taking one of your hands in his and heading through the lawn and into the brightly lit interior of the home.

“Seungcheol said he’d be arriving a little later, my sister’s ready to blow a gasket but, when isn’t she?” Joshua laughs as you make your way to a nearby table, grabbing a plate with a precut slice of cake on it before turning back to him.

“Is this from the same bakery who made my cake last year?” You ask with nearly a mouthful of cake.

“I told you I made that cake,” he says jokingly, grabbing his own slice, “And if it were, would you say yea or nay for them making the wedding cake?”

“Yea. Definitely, this is by far the best buttercream I’ve ever had,” you nod, “Although I do need a drink.”

“Amaretto sour?” Questioning as he sets down his plate, ready to go off and mix your drink himself.

“You know I can’t,” a frown settling on your lips as you take another bite, “Just water.”

“I’ll be back in a sec,” Joshua says and heads to the bar in the next room over.

You move out of the way of the other partygoers looking for food and make your way to a window that looks out at the road in front of the house. As you watch, you see the bright headlights of a car pulling into the drive, trying to careen past the other vehicles lined up there. It must be Seungcheol.

It’d been a while since you’d last seen him, having to mail his orders to him now that you’d moved shop locations. So, you head to the front door, anxious to see an old friend. The door opens with a swing of grandeur, Seungcheol Choi stepping inside with a clear look of panic on his face.

Seungcheol spots you as he enters, rushing over to you, “She’s not angry, is she?”

“Your wife?” You question, putting a finger under your chin in thought, “She’s only told half of the people here how upset she is, so I think you still have time to save yourself.”

“I’d better get in there then,” he sighs, almost brushing past you before he stops, “I should also tell you that—”

You don’t hear what he says, though. Because you hadn’t realized that there was someone standing behind him until they step through the dark entranceway and into the bright lights of the foyer. For a moment it feels like time has stopped, the plate in your hand straining from the pressure your fingers now exert on it as you lock eyes with someone you hadn’t ever expected to see again.

It’s you who breaks away first, mumbling about needing to find Joshua while it feels as if your heart seizes upon itself in your chest. Before you’re able to rejoin the party, you feel a hand gently grasp your arm, “Can we talk?” The question is quiet, almost lost in the atmosphere of the celebration as Wonwoo asks.

A strangled gulp as you nod, setting the plate down on a small mail-table before you brush past him exit out of the front door. He follows you wordlessly, from the gravel path that wraps around the house and to the backyard that overlooks the lake. You keep walking, wading through grass that comes up to your knees until you’re standing on the wooden dock, the gentle sloshing of water hitting the posts giving you something else to focus on.

Face green in the glow of the dock light overhead, it beams around the soft fog rising from the water as you hope it would swallow you up instead of you having this conversation with Wonwoo.

“You never returned my calls,” he says, standing several feet away. His tone isn’t accusatory, it sounds hurt.

“I kept forgetting.” Liar. Nails digging into your palms as your hands clench with an anxiety that hadn’t riddled you for two years. “And you only called four times.”

“Five.”

“Four.” Resolution in your voice as you try and stand as firmly as you can. The shoes you’re wearing are pinching your heels and you want nothing more than to kick them off into the water. You turn to look at him, trying to stay calm. “Would you have picked up even if I did call back?” A tangle in your stomach as you recall having Sooyoung answer the phone for the next handful of weeks after the two of you had parted, each time he’d called Sooyoung would say you weren’t home.

He hesitates, at least his body does, the words, “Of course I would have,” escaping him before he could prepare himself with a more eloquent response.

“You seem to be doing well,” It’s silent until you break it, noting the suit he was wearing was from a higher end retailer.

“So, do you,” a break in his voice as he notices the crack in your demeanor, “I didn’t see you at Seungcheol’s wedding, I thought he would have invited you.”

“My mother got sick, so I missed it,” you recall having to forgo the event last year. Did that mean Wonwoo had been back that soon?

“You still have the dress.” There had been a melancholy deep set into your bones that had lasted for what seemed like lifetimes, now resurfacing more and more the longer you look at him. You’d forgotten about what you were wearing, the same dress that the tailor had labored unknown hours over and that had been the figurative wedge between you and him. Maybe this was some deity’s cruel sense of irony. “I still think it’s one of the best I’ve ever made,”

“It’s a little tighter now but it’s still one of my favorites,” you can’t lie. Be it from the laborious love that was sewn into every stitch or the bygone memories associated with it, it was and still is one of the best pieces you own.

“I really was an idiot for letting you go, wasn’t I?” Hands shoved into pockets, he’s not sure what to do with himself.

“You did what you had to.” Brow hardening, a remembrance of the last time you’d spoken.

“Don’t say it like that,” a soft plea, he’d never meant to hurt you.

“Then how should I say it?” Bitterness you thought forgotten riddles every word you pose.

“You know I tried to visit your shop when I first came back,” Deterrent of the conversation, he looks across the water to the distant shore. “But it was empty, some guy passing by had said you packed up months earlier and just left.”

“There was a water main break, ruined most of our inventory and we had to rebuild from scratch in a new place.” You still remember the dread you’d felt that morning, walking in to find everything in shambles.

“With Joshua’s help?”

“Joshua helped.”

“Congratulations on your engagement, by the way,” eyes flickering to the ring on your finger, the light of the dock glinting off the main stone. “He’s a lucky man.”

Wonwoo sounds bitter, you can understand why but you can’t understand one thing. “Why did you come? I’m sure that Seungcheol said that I was going to be here.”

“I don’t know.” The answer is simple, but there’s a heaviness to it that you can feel. “I’m supposed to be flying out to Milan tomorrow. I guess I just wanted to see you again.”

“Did you expect me to fall into your arms, Wonwoo? To take you back?” Lip bitten, you’re sure you were going to draw blood if you kept at it any longer.

“Maybe I did when I came back last year, when I’d tried to see you.” He frowns, “I think now I want to make sure you’re happy.”

Happy. It feels as if that word dances off of the water behind you, across the sound and into the forest. Were you? The encroaching despair that had taken aim and marked you when Wonwoo had left was gone, a memory overwritten by the years that had followed, by the people who had followed. The shedding of yourself that came when he left took a while but without a doubt you can truly say this is the most complacent you’ve ever been.

The door to the lake house opens some ways behind Wonwoo, the lights from inside spreading across the lawn in an obscene spotlight on the two of you. A silhouette stands in the doorway, it’s easy to tell who the figure is as he leans against the door frame. You smile as you look at the outline of Joshua, heart swelling as it once had for the other man in front of you.

“Yeah, Wonwoo, I’m happy.”

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muniimyg · 25 days

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⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ bbydaddy!jk (14) ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ *nsfw*

series m.list // taglist request closed

note: car sex; riding, doggy, hair pulling, ass slapping, spitting, choking, fingering, and blowjob. dirty talk; daddy kink, bitch/cockslut, etc... the vibes yk?

🏷️ permanent taglist: @joonsjuice @pamzn @defzcl @maryy1300 @whoa-jo @taetaecatboy @jksusawife @un06 @firesighgirl @rrosiitas @butterymin @parkinglot-nights @musicjournalsjdb @kissyfacekoo @jkslvsnella @vampcharxter @bloopkook @somehowukook @bbystarcandykoo

opening the door, your eyes light up at the sight of your visitor.

"eomma, you're early! come in, come in! didn’t jungkook pick you up? where is he?”

jungkook's mom laughs, pulling you in a hug. she sways you back and forth and pats your back.

“he’s parking the car, sweetie.”

when she pulls away, she greets zion. excited, zion cheers at the sight of his grandma. he bounces on your hips, leaning forward for you to pass him to her.. jungkook's mom takes him.

ushering her inside, you bend over and place slippers for her. she steps into them as you bombard her with more questions. "how are you? i thought abeoji was babysitting with you tonight? where is he? and… oh my goodness! is this the blouse i got you?”

"yes, it is! you’re right… the colour suits my completion well.” she does a little twirl, showcasing her outfit.

“so cute! very demure!”

snickering, she answers the rest of your questions. “oh, you know your abeoji… he's coming! he went to play golf... of course..." pausing, she looks around your home and sighs. "did you clean again? you don't have to do that, remember? i don't mind helping when i come over! you're so busy, it's not good to overwork. if i check your fridge, will the side dishes i made for you be empty or still full? because i brought more—"

"eomma..."

"it's just side dishes!" she glances to the side, cueing in jungkook to enter in with three bags filled of food. “… maybe 3-5 main dishes too…”

you gasp. "that's too much!"

"yah!" she hisses. pointing at you and jungkook, she makes her claims. “you need to eat more and this one eats 3 times more than you... i would know. i fed him every day and lost so much money—"

"love you too, eomma." jungkook mutters, placing the bags on the kitchen island.

you roll your eyes as he immediately comes over to you, slipping his arms around your waist and greeting you with a kiss on the cheek. then, he makes a kissy face at zion. zion sticks his tongue out at him. jungkook laughs.

"hi," jungkook says softly, tilting his face to see you.

"hi," you reply with the same gentleness, mimicking his headtilt. “you left early this morning… where’d you go?”

“car appointment.”

“oil change?” you ask. jungkook opens his mouth to answer but is interrupted by your son’s excitement.

"hi everyone!" zion squeals, wanting to feel included. “halmeoni, do you see that? mama and dada are married. they love each other!"

jungkook's mom laughs while your eyes widen. feeling your embarrassment, jungkook clears his throat. the air feels awfully thin.

"have you eaten, honey? we can eat a bit here and then bring some dishes for the party." jungkook suggests.

you nod. "i fed zion but haven't eaten myself."

"you need to eat," he frowns. "don't just feed our son. eat too."

"i will," you smile. "eomma, did you make my favourite?"

she gives you an offended look.

"yah, ___... how old do you think i am? i'm not at the age where i forget just anything... of course i made your favourite! i made 3 tubs worth of it! i also added perilla leaves."

you break away from jungkook and hug his mom. you squeeze her tight, causing zion to squirm. "you're the best! i want to be born as your daughter in my next life."

she giggles at your affection. with a teasing tone, she not-so-whispers into your ear; "marry my son soon, okay? so you can be my daughter in this life."

pulling away, you pout at her.

"if i marry your son will you stop nagging me to eat more?"

"marry him first and find out."

completely shocked by her playfulness, jungkook bursts out laughing. before you can respond, he grabs your hand and drags you to the kitchen area. sitting you down at a countertop chair, he places a plate in front of you and begins to unpack the food. his mom moves to the livingroom and sets zion down with his blocks. together, they begin to play and sing.

by the time you pay attention to jungkook, you realize he already fixed you a plate.

"this is too much food."

"shut up," he chuckles, reaching over to tuck your hair behind your ears. "just eat."

rolling your eyes, you pick up your chopsticks and reach for the perilla leaves. struggling to peel them apart, jungkook picks up a pair of chopsticks and helps you peel them. when you get a piece, you thank him and begin to eat.

"the guys are excited to see you again."

in between chews, you snicker at him. "i can't believe they're throwing a good riddance party for yoongi."

jungkook blows air out of his cheeks and sighs. "i can. i literally had to keep one eye open at night because of that guy."

"cos i think he's hot?"

"cos he also thinks you're hot. which... he's not wrong."

"jealous?"

"always."

"how come it's cute on you but scary when it's me?" you pout. "you always complain about that... it can't be true, right? isn't it hot when i'm jealous?"

jungkook shakes his head. "fuck no. i fear for my life. truly."

"liar," you snort.

"i let pia go. i'm looking for a male assistant... i have interviews lined up for next week," jungkook admits. "and it wasn't fully because of you... she was chill and all but definitely spent too much time flirting with jaehyun. distracted him from working, always came in a little late, and still would get my coffee wrong."

"jaehyun's cute!" you admire. “did he ask her out?"

"jealous?"

"always."

"not funny," he warns you. "i'm already enemies with nam joon and you joking about yoongi keeps me on my toes.”

furrowing your eyebrows at him, you tease; "stay on your toes then.”

jungkook makes a face at you before taking his chopsticks and shoving another perilla leaf in your mouth.

"eat up," he hisses. "you're gonna need the energy for all the making up to me you’ll have to do later if you keep pissing me off."

after dinner, you quickly get ready and head out with jungkook. kissing zion goodbye, you also let jungkook's mom know you left a gift bag of skincare in zion's room for her. she tells you you're too much and you tell her it's nothing. then, she's pushing you out the door and telling you guys not to come home.

walking to the car, you notice jungkook takes out a different set of keys. then, a different car beeps and you turn your head to it. jungkook walks forward and then opens the car door for you.

"w-what's this?" you ask, eyes glowing. "was this your car appointment? did you seriously buy a new audi? is this the q7? shit... honey, your model isn't even old—"

"just get in."

you glare at him. "rude."

"please."

“better.”

exchanging nose scrunches, you get in the car. sitting down, he bends inside and buckles your seatbelt. as he pulls out, he sneaks a kiss on your lips. you laugh at his quickness.

moments later, he joins you inside. settling into the drivers seat, he starts the engine. he buckles his seatbelt and begins to drive. suddenly, music begins to play. moments later, he joins you inside. settling into the driver's seat, he starts the engine. he buckles his seatbelt and begins to drive. suddenly, music begins to play.

…

i, i hear the whispers in your eyes...

i'll make you wanna think twice.

you'll find that you were never not mine—

you're mine.

i can feel it comin', hummin' in the way you move...

push the reset button, we're becoming something new—

say you got somebody, i'll say, "i got someone too"

—even if it's handcuffed, i'm leaving here with you...

you turn your head at jungkook and glare at him.

"seriously?"

"whoops?" he acts dumb. "is it a crime to listen to taylor swift?"

you fight the urge to roll your eyes and give him attitude. “no.. the song itself just seems perfectly timed..." you accuse him. he shrugs and takes the hit. "you tryna tell me something?"

"yeah," he says, stopping at a red light.

"really? what is it?"

"this car is yours."

you blink.

"what?"

"what do you mean what? honey, you wanna pay for zion's daycare? fine. i pay for this car. your car." jungkook states with no room for argument.

in disbelief, you open your mouth to say something. anything! truly, this is absurd! daycare bills are nothing compared to a new car—

"you've been driving the same car since before law school. no, it's not broken. no, it's not old... but it's also not what you deserve. you don't want my help paying for zion's daycare bills? fine. so be it. i don't want your help paying for this car."

"jungkook—"

"just say thank you," he pleads, placing his hand on your thigh. the light turns green, and he drives. "i showed it to your dad already. he approved it and even went on a test drive. my mom rode in it today when i picked her up. everyone knows about the car but for you so do me a favour and don't embarrass me by not accepting it."

"it's too much—"

"you're the mother of my child and love of my life," he huffs. "i'll never be able to repay you for that."

you sink into your seat. truly, this is too much. it's not like you needed a new car either! but wow... he's just... too good to you.

"jungkook..."

fully prepared for your reaction, jungkook is quick to make a suggestion. "awh, if you're really thankful... just suck my dick or something—"

"jungkook!"

he chuckles and squeezes your thigh. "come on, mama. it's been a hot minute... haven't fucked in a few weeks. i love sleeping next to you and zion but it would be nice to wake up with my cock in your mouth."

"do you wanna?" you sit up, mood bright and ready. "pull over."

he laughs and wiggles his finger at you.

"we haven't even sat in this car for 20 minutes and you already wanna fuck in the back seats? thankful much?" jungkook blurts.

you huff. "i don't even know how to say thank you. it doesn't feel like it's enough... but thank you, jungkook... for everything."

jungkook shrugs, as if buying you a whole ass new audi isn't a big deal. bringing your hand to his lips, he kisses them.

"you love me," he reminds you. "that's enough."

as expected, the boys try to steal you from jungkook the minute you arrive.

"it's been too long!" jimin cries, poking your sides.

taehyung joins in and aims for your underarm. "who gives a fuck if you're a lawyer. big whoop! we have plans on suing you for never showing up to our events."

you laugh and hide behind jungkook.

"yah! it's hard doing it all," you flip your hair at them. "you try being a mom, a lawyer, and—oh my god! yoongi?"

like a scene from a movie, your friends part for him. yoongi laughs as you rush into his arms and hug him.

"isn't this your good riddance party?" you ask, shocked that he's here.

yoongi sighs. "she dumped me."

"you're joking..." you gasp, clueless and a little angry. "w-what happened?"

yoongi lets you go and greets jungkook with a hug as well. jungkook pats his back and then pulls away. like glue, jungkook shifts and sticks to you. you lean against him and guide his arms to wrap around you.

"to be honest.. we were having issues before i flew there. she freaked out and didn't even bother showing up at the airport. i booked a return flight and gave up fighting for her... it's been—what?” yoongi pauses and gathers his thoughts. “a week? i don't know. i just wish she told me where her head was at before i packed up my shit and quit my job." yoongi laughs, trying to lighten the mood. "this is technically still a good riddance party... good riddance to her."

you pout at him, hating the position he's in. it's so shitty. who treats someone like that? you don't know much about his girlfriend—ex-girlfriend—but everything you did know about her was all good... but life is like that, isn't it? people let you down and turn into something completely different.

it's times like these when you're thankful to have jungkook. the dating pool these days is a nightmare.

"you quit your job? i thought they allowed you to do remote?" jungkook asks, eyebrows knit together.

"they considered it... but didn't go through with it. it's fine... i've been wanting to change things up anyway," yoongi insists. "aside from that... i moved in with jin and told the people subletting my condo that they could stay for 6 months."

jungkook sighs. "well... if you need a job asap, i'm looking for an assistant. it's yours if you want it. i won't even boss you around that much—"

"don't you already have one?"

you raise a brow. "the pretty one?"

yoongi's eyes shake.

"oh," yoongi connects. "i get it. yeah, sure. thanks jungkook. i'll take it for now and get searching for a new job soon. i can start next week.”

"there's no rush," jungkook ensures yoongi. "take the job and keep it for as long as you need."

yoongi nods and thanks jungkook. you share a look with yoongi and sigh.

"are you okay?" you ask yoongi. suddenly, you feel jungkook kiss your shoulder. jungkook then excuses himself to give you and yoongi time to talk. you didn't realize until now that everyone dispersed to their own conversations. jin, jimin, and hoseok were in the kitchen while taehyung and jungkook began to play games on the ps5.

moving closer to you, yoongi shrugs.

"am i supposed to be? i wanted to marry her."

for some reason, yoongi's words strike you. it was one thing to see the pain in his eyes and feel it in the way his words came out of his mouth; it was another to remember jungkook.

you wonder what he said to the guys when you broke up with him.

... that's enough to need a shot or two.

“are you okay?”

you nod. “yeah. took a vacation leave from work for a week to reset… asked for less intense cases and been trying harder in balancing the work-life stuff. it’s been better—“

“no, like.. are you okay?” he repeats. “like… you’re not throwing up anymore, right? and your mood swings? post partum still a bitch?”

“i’ve been doing okay,” you tell him. “i have a session soon… i’ll probably get reassessed and talk about things.”

yoongi smiles. “things like… you and jungkook?”

“yeah.”

he clears his throat.

"you know… it’s really nice to see you two together again," yoongi admits. "if there's one good thing that came out of all of this shit it's seeing you guys happier."

you blink at him.

"no," you stop him. "you can't be going through this huge heartbreak and turn this into a lesson for me. come on, yoongi! nothing's changed," you lie. "we're still broken up."

yoongi groans at your answer. "are lawyers always defensive or is that just a personality trait of yours?"

"both," you play along. "but seriously... we're still broken up. i guess things are... unfolding and going well... but—"

"it's not your fault, you know?" yoongi interrupts you. "he doesn't blame you for any of it either. no one does. so take your time and avoid it all you want—but he's gonna get you back."

your gaze softens, touched by his words. for the first time in a while, you let your guard down.

"you think so?"

"i know so."

by 11pm, more people arrived and took over the living room.

yoongi is re-explaining his situation to a crowd of friends. jimin and taehyung have started a karaoke competition, while jin and hoseok ran around filling everyone's cups with more alcohol. jungkook spent some time catching up with friends, while you gossip with the girlies.

then, your eyes meet jungkook's.

across the room, he bites his bottom lip and nods towards jin's bedroom. you know that signal too well.

excusing yourself from the conversation, you and jungkook slip your way through the party. fingertips brushing, jungkook's heart races when you lace your fingers with his and guide him inside jin's bedroom.

as he shuts the door behind you, your lips crash into his the moment he turns. kissing you back, he cups your cheeks with the palm of his hand.

"forgot you have an exhibition kink," you murmur against his lips. he bites your bottom lip and groans.

"i do not."

"yeah?" you challenge. "remember when you fingered me during your company's christmas dinner?"

"you wore stockings," he cries. "wanted to rip them. duh."

"that literally makes no sense—“

"who fucking cares? you let me finger you. you were into it too." he growls.

“never said i wasn’t.”

jungkook sneers, “holy fuck, can we please go home? i'm have no more social energy and only want to be with you."

you pull away and fix his hair. you watch the way his eyes soften as he looks into yours.

"leaving a party at 11pm is kinda lame though.. we're not that old." you chide. though, you wouldn't mind going home either. "... should we though? should we leave?"

jungkook nods, kissing you again. "can we have sex?"

you laugh against the kiss and pull away. pinching his cheeks, you drag your thumb across his bottom lip.

"yeah, we can have sex. wanna see how much space my car has?" you flirt.

earning a smile from jungkook, he tilts his head at you.

"your car?"

"my car," you repeat with a prideful tone. "it's pretty cool... newest model. my baby daddy bought it for me. it's an audi though, so it gives fuckboy vibes."

jungkook chuckles. "oh? is your baby daddy a fuckboy? yikes... is he at least hot?"

"kinda."

"kinda? wow. if you hate him, just say so."

"hate him?" you gasp. "i love him... gonna marry him one day."

he doesn't know what it is.

maybe it's the 5 shots you downed.

maybe it's simply the truth.

one thing's for sure; jungkook's heart has never skipped a beat that fast before.

sneaking out of the party was easy.

receiving the texts and calls was not. everyone was blowing up your and jungkook's phone, annoyed and disappointed you two left without saying goodbye (even though doing so would completely backfire). truth be told, you two didn't say goodbye because it you two would have been taken hostage. it would've been impossible to escape.

besides, you two prefer it like this.

just you two.

jungkook parked outside his place. the led lights are on in the car and the music is turned down. it's just enough to fill the space, but the true music to his ears are your moans.

in the backseat, jungkook sits with his legs planted on the floor. his pants pool around his ankles while his shirt is thrown to the front seat. his dick is out and your dress is scrunched up to your stomach. you're on top of him, grinding against his thick cock. the top part of your dress is pushed down to your stomach too, leaving jungkook in disbelief. he's so lucky to be this close to you. this view... is mesmerizing.

your breasts bounce so pretty at him. he can't help but dig his face in between them. you giggle, feeling how ticklish his features are against your breasts.

"t-that tickles!" you squirm, grabbing a fist full of his hair and pulling him away. "kiss me or something."

he chuckles but does as you request. stretching his neck, he kisses you slowly and surely. he takes his time, exploring your mouth and sucking on your tongue. you can't help but let out a whimpering moan as he kisses you so good; you're taken by surprise when he slips his cock inside you.

"m-mhmm," you moan. "so good. love your fat cock so much."

jungkook smirks. "dirty talk? really?"

"why not?"

"you're that level of horny?"

"what level is this?"

you hold on to his biceps and bounce hard. your eyebrows furrow and your lips part ever so slightly at the sudden burn in between your legs. it feels so good to fuck him like this. the sound of your ass slapping against his thighs makes this so much more lewd. you continue to bounce as jungkook throws his head back from the pleasure. quickening your tempo, you feel his dick rise even more inside you.

"h-holy shit," you cry, holding onto his biceps even tighter. trying your best to stabilize yourself, you wrap yourself around him. then, you do the only logical thing: whine for help. "jungkook, fuck me… please!”

jungkook wastes no time. he places both his hands on your ass, helping you hold your position. he then leans back and gets into it.

oh, he gets fucking into it.

jungkook begins to drill his hard cock into you. you feel your hole stretch from the friction. you also feel yourself dripping against him. the sound of your liquids smacking against skin arouses you even more. jungkook fucks you, completely disregarding what you can and can't take. he fucks you like it's a lesson.

as you whimper and give out on the position, you put your weight down and sit on him. he slowly and gently continues to thrust inside you. you rest your forehead against his shoulder blade and let out a tired laugh.

"doggy?" you pitch, out of breath.

jungkook lets out an airy laugh but agrees.

sweaty, sticky, and messy; you two switch positions. jungkook shifts towards the corner, allowing you to angle your body diagonally. you lean against the passenger seat, holding it for stability. jungkook kneels, sliding himself back inside you. his hands are on your waist as he begins to thrust in and out.

jungkook has always admired you ass. god truly took his time creating you. it's honestly his favourite feature about you... aside from your boobs, eyes, lips, legs, waist.... okay. fine. he loves it all.

he loves all of you.

you love all of him too... from his tattoos to the way his facial expression changes with every slight touch... it's too good.

not to mention his dick hits all the spots. you feel him play with your pussy, sneaking a hand underneath and in between your folds. you moan at the sensation and feel yourself begin to pound more and more inside of you. out of nowhere, he pinches your clit and you yelp.

suddenly, he grabs your hair and pulls it. the tug sends your head to go back. you bite your lip from the rush.

"you like that, mama? you like having your hair pulled and me fucking you like a little bitch?" jungkook hisses. "such a fucking freak... wanting to fuck in this car? i bought it for you to ride in, not ride me in."

you cry, "needed your cock so bad, daddy."

"you're daddy's little bitch, aren't you?" he slaps your ass. "say it, baby. say you're my bitch."

he slaps your ass again.

you hiss at the tingle but also can't help but wish for more. maybe he heard you because he slaps you for the third time before thrusting himself deeper.

god, he's so big.

like seriously... he's so fucking big! you swear you can feel him in your guts.

"i'm your little bitch," you sob. "f-fuck, daddy... you're so big. always so big for me. biggest fucking cock in the world, o-oh my god. it's for me, right? only for me?"

jungkook moans in response.

"is my pussy tight enough for this massive fucking cock? am i taking you in well? like a good girl? i'm good, right? you like the way i bounced on your hard cock? feel it in my guts... g-god, you feel so fucking good! i'm losing m-my goddamn mind, daddy... you make me f-feel so good... d-daddy, do i make you feel good?"

jungkook stays silent, trying to process your words.

with a whiney tone, you call for him; "daddy?"

"shut up."

he gulps, gripping your hair tighter. tugging it more, he moves closer to your face. swirling his saliva in his mouth, he spits on your face.

"what do you say?"

"thank you, daddy!" you lick your lips, getting a bit of his spit. jungkook lets go of your hair and cups your jaw with his hand. he squishes your lips together and kisses them. you kiss him back and pull away. giggling, he licks your lips and asks you to open up. doing so, he spits into your mouth.

you swallow.

he grins.

"daddy's little bitch is such a good girl... fuck, ___. you take me in so good. good job, honey. so proud of you."

then, his hand moves from your jaw to your neck. you shut your eyes, feeling the way his thrusts speed up but lower in intensity. losing yourself to the feeling of pleasure, jungkook adds pressure to his hold on your neck. you feel your throat tighten as he continues to fuck you.

he's never choked you. you've asked him once or twice, but he refused because he didn't wanna be rough on you like that. guess tonight is different... tonight, he fucks you rough and sloppy.

yet, the second you let out a small cough, jungkook lets go of your neck entirely. he immediately leans over and kisses it. you softly laugh at his kisses and hum;

“i’m okay, honey. it felt good."

“you sure? love you.”

“mhm… love you too—“

without warning, he pulls out and takes a seat. he grabs you buy the hips and gets you to sit in between his legs. he parts yours and places his fingers inside you.

you moan, throwing your head back. jungkook kisses the top of your head as he plays with your precious pussy. he fingers you for a good 5 minutes, your legs shake and your chest feels like it’s going to explode because of how fast your heart is racing. then suddenly—

"a-ahh, f-fuck!"

you cum.

the minute you do so, jungkook slaps your pussy and brings his fingers to his mouth. he sucks on them, tasting you.

you pant and attempt to catch your breath as much as you can. the new car smell is completely gone by now. the car smells of sweat and sex... iconic of you two, honestly.

after a few moments of silence and self-composing, you squish yourself between the seats and jungkook's legs. you take his half-erected dick and shove it inside your mouth.

his cock is huge.

(oversaid? yes. downplaying? absolutely not!)

it fills up your entire mouth and you struggle to get to the base. jungkook helps you, pushing your head deeper. as you gag, he holds you still.

"that's fucking right, honey. choke on my fucking cock like the cockslut you are... m-mhmm, y-yeah," he moans, throwing his head back. he lets go of you, letting you to suck him dry.

you bob your head, dragging your tongue around his length. it's veiny and so angry. the tip practically pulsates at you. you spit on it and rub your thumb across it. jungkook hisses at the touch and you kiss it to make him feel some type of way.

“this what you wanted, right? my cock in your fucking mouth this like this? god, if you could see yourself so full of me… fucking beautiful, baby. the prettiest woman in this entire world has my fat cock in her mouth.” jungkook praises you, doing his best to fight the urge of rolling his lips and fucking your face.

thankfully, he succeeds and lets you do your thing. sucking his dick, jungkook doesn't last too long. his breathing turns heavy and he begins to squirm in his seat. pulling his cock out of your mouth, you jerk him off against your face. jungkook watches as you leave your tongue out.

at the sight, he cums and spills himself all over your face.

his cum splatters and you lick his tip. jungkook laughs and pulls his dick out of your mouth. he tilts your chin and meets your lips with his.

he kisses you, losing his breath even more.

but it didn't matter.

you're his air.

when the morning comes, you wake up to the smell of coffee.

jungkook crawls back into bed with you. he tangles his body with yours. you let out a sleepy laugh when he reaches under your shirt and feels for your boobs. holding him close, he murmurs against your skin;

"want some coffee?"

"sure," you say. "i miss coffee."

#bts smut #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook smau #jungkook fanfic #jungkook exes to lovers #jungkook dilf #bts daddy au #bts fanfic

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gabgabwrites · 3 months

Text

DEUCE | Art Donaldson & Patrick Zweig

summary ⇝ Art has been so stressed about his match coming up against his ex best friend and denies it completely, you’ve begged and begged him to relax before he agrees, until someone interrupts.

warnings ⇝ language, unestablished? relationship, kissing, smut! 3sum, softdom!art, mean!patrick, oral (M & F), masturbation (M), handjob, cum eating, spitting, rough sex, unprotected sex, riding, spanking, minor ass play, groping, scratching, semi-public sex, slight voyeurism, not much aftercare, mdni.

read part 2 here

note: this one is a little 𝒻𝓇ℯ𝒶𝓀𝓎 also is shorter than most of my fanfics, more porn than plot

Tomorrow Art would be playing against Patrick Zweig, his old time best friend and part time rival. Art told you he didn't worry for his match, but you saw the way his shoulders sagged with exhaustion and the bags under his eyes grew darker. You told him to take a sleeping pill when he slept but he said he was getting enough hours of sleep, you had to act like you didn't feel him constantly moving around at night, tossing and turning.

"Art, I really think you should relax today. I can book you an appointment with a masseuse to help your muscles, or, y'know, you could sleep," You chewed on your bottom lip after telling him this, Art sighed, stopping his upper body exercises in the small gym.

"It's fine, honey. I'm fine. I feel totally relaxed," He gave you a tight lipped smile before he picked up the orange resistance band and began to pull at it. You watched his eyes glaze over in focus before sighing yourself, pushing off the wall and leaving the room.

You knew better than to press further. Art was stubborn and determined, traits that made him both a fantastic athlete and a frustrating partner at times. You loved him dearly, but his single-minded dedication to his sport often left little room for self-care. As you walked away, you couldn't help but worry about the toll this match against Patrick was taking on him.

The evening passed slowly. You busied yourself with mundane tasks, trying to keep your mind off Art's impending match. The air in your shared apartment felt thick with unspoken concerns. Art, still in his workout gear, moved from one exercise to another, the rhythmic sounds of his routine creating a steady background noise. You watched him from the kitchen, your heart aching for the man who pushed himself so hard.

When dinner time rolled around, you called out to him, "Art, dinner's ready." He nodded, wiping sweat from his brow before making his way to the table. You had prepared his favorite meal, hoping it would bring some comfort.

"Thanks, sweetheart," he said, sitting down and picking at his food. You could tell his mind was elsewhere, probably on tomorrow's match and the strategies he needed to employ.

"You're really worried about this, aren't you?" you asked softly, trying to meet his eyes.

Art sighed, finally setting his fork down. "It's not that I'm worried, exactly. It's just... Patrick and I, we go way back. This isn't just another match. There's a lot of history there."

You reached across the table, taking his hand in yours. "I know. But you can't keep pushing yourself like this. You're going to burn out."

"I know you're right," he admitted, squeezing your hand. "But I can't help it. I need to be at my best."

"I understand," you said gently. "But you need to take care of yourself too. How about we go for a walk after dinner? Get some fresh air, clear your mind?"

Art considered it for a moment before nodding. "Yeah, that sounds nice."

After dinner, the two of you strolled through the nearby park, the cool evening air a welcome change from the stuffy apartment. The rhythmic crunch of gravel underfoot was soothing, and for a while, neither of you spoke. It was enough to just be together.

Eventually, Art broke the silence. "You know, sometimes I wonder if I made the right choice, pursuing this career so intensely."

You looked at him, surprised. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, it's all-consuming. I love it, don't get me wrong, but sometimes I feel like I'm missing out on other things. Important things."

You stopped walking, turning to face him. "Art, you have a passion and a talent that's incredible. But it's okay to have doubts. It's okay to want more than just your career."

He looked down, his expression thoughtful. "I just don't want to let anyone down. Not my team, not my fans... not you."

"You could never let me down," you said firmly. "I love you for who you are, not for what you achieve. And I'm here for you, no matter what."

Art pulled you into a tight hug, resting his chin on top of your head. "Thank you. I needed to hear that."

The walk seemed to have done some good, and by the time you returned home, Art appeared more relaxed. He took a long shower while you prepared some chamomile tea, hoping it would help him sleep better. When he emerged, you handed him a cup, and he accepted it gratefully.

"Let's try to get some good rest tonight, okay?" you suggested, leading him to the bedroom. He nodded, sipping his tea thoughtfully.

As you both settled into bed, you reached over and turned off the bedside lamp. The room was plunged into darkness, the only sounds the faint hum of the city outside and Art's steady breathing.

"I love you," he whispered, his voice barely audible in the quiet room.

"I love you too," you replied, snuggling closer to him. "We'll get through this, together."

That night, Art's restlessness seemed to ease. He still shifted occasionally, but there was a sense of calm that hadn't been there before. You stayed close, your presence a steady anchor in the turbulent sea of his thoughts.

The next morning, you woke to find Art already up, dressed in his gear and looking more focused than he had in days. There was a determined glint in his eye that made you believe he was ready for the match.

"Feeling better?" you asked, stretching and sitting up.

"Yeah," he said, a small smile playing on his lips. "I think I am."

"Good. I'll be cheering for you," You said, giving him an encouraging kiss. You grabbed his racket and headed for his car. Once there, you packed all his equipment in the back. He drove the car this time, to the stadium. You two had gotten there earlier, for many reasons like him relaxing before the match and for him to get last minute practice.

He told you he was going to the sauna for an hour or so, you told him you'd wait outside, on the small bench as you decided to flip through a magazine. As Art headed towards the sauna, you found a small bench outside and settled down with a magazine. The warm, humid air from the sauna seeped out, creating a comfortable ambiance despite the anticipation buzzing in your mind.

Flipping through the magazine, you tried to distract yourself with celebrity gossip and fashion trends, but your thoughts kept drifting back to Art and the upcoming match. You couldn't shake the worry that gnawed at your insides, no matter how hard you tried to focus on the glossy pages in front of you.

Minutes turned into what felt like hours as you anxiously waited. You checked your watch every few minutes, unable to shake off the nervous energy that pulsed through you. Finally, just as you were starting to wonder if you should check on him, the sauna door creaked open, and Art emerged, white towel around his waist, his muscles shiny with sweat and his blonde hair darker and sticking to his forehead.

He called your name, his voice a low, gravelly murmur that sent a shiver down your spine. You looked up from the magazine, your eyes meeting his intense gaze. "Yes?" you asked, your voice coming out softer than intended, laced with a hint of curiosity and a touch of anticipation.

He licked his top lip, his gaze scanning the room briefly before locking onto yours. "I realised I really do need to relax," he admitted with a sigh, pondering how to phrase his next request. "Come here, please?" His voice was soft yet tinged with a hint of longing, inviting you closer with a subtle urgency that stirred something deep within you.

You swallowed, placing the magazine neatly next to the pile of his disregarded clothes on the bench, before standing up and slowly walking towards him. "Yes?" His forefinger found the neckline of your shirt and hooked inside, before abruptly pulling you in making you yelp out in surprise. "Art?!"

"Shh-h-h, someone could hear you," He waited for you to stand up straight, after nearly being curb stomped by the sauna bench and turning to face him. His voice dropped to speak softer. "Help me relax?"

"Art, I-I don't—," The words got caught in your throat when you felt him pick up your hand and gently kiss your fingertips, lips moving to graze over each knuckle before they were on your wrist. "Anyone could walk in."

"They won't," he murmured against your skin, his lips lightly grazing the soft flesh of your forearm. "Please?" His plea was soft and earnest, his voice laced with vulnerability. You let out a gentle sigh, feeling the warmth of his breath against your skin, before tenderly moving your hand from his lips to cup his jaw.

"Only because it's getting hot in here," You smirked, Art's eyes shone at your words before his fingers moved to help you peel away your shirt that was becoming damp with moisture. He waited until you were fully undressed, clothes a disregardment, scattered around on the bamboo floor, before kissing you.

Your body was still somewhat dry while Art's was slippery against yours, dewy with sweat. His one hand cradled the back of your neck as you pushed your tongue between his lips, happily obliging to feel you against him. He let out a groan, signalling he wanted more, he needed more. Using little control, he grabbed your shoulders and pushed down on them, forcing you to sit on the bench.

Your lips broke apart before Art smashed them together again. Your fingers went to the white, fluffy towel and began to pull at it, falling apart to reveal his cock, hard and pulsing. "You really are needy?" You murmured, Art whimpered to ensure your questions.

You pressed a hand against his pec, letting it slither down and collect little moisture before your fingers found the tufts of hair below his belly button, following the trail until you reached his cock, wrapping your fingers around the base and slowly pumping your fist.

Art let a gasp, swallowing his moan at your actions. "Sit down, Art," You told him, he basically threw himself down, now kissing you shoulder to shoulder, your hand wrapped around his cock while his left hand squeezed at your thigh and his right curling at his side. "This helping?"

"Yeah, mmm, yes," He groaned, slowly but surely failing to kiss back as you squeezed his cock harder, making his mind go fuzzy. "Please don't stop."

His head fell back, lips parting as he panted and moaned, the crown of his head resting on the wall. Your lips took action down the column of his throat, tongue lapping up at his sweat. You sucked a path down to his shoulder, before allowing your teeth to graze the skin there.

"Art, I want to ride you," You said softly. Art was quick to shift his hips, snapping out a trance so you could slide onto his lap.

His fingers flew to your arousal, massaging at your aching clit to get your hole to relax. "That feels good."

Your fingers pumped his cock still, only at a slower pace. It twitched and throbbed, especially when the pads of his fingers moved and found your hole, feeling you drip onto his fingers. His eyebrows drew together in focus, fingertips breaching your pussy, sinking into it.

You ignored the initial pain of the stretch, humping your hips to sink onto him further. His fingers worked faster to relax your hole before they pulled out, too eager to have you around his length. He grabbed his cock and nudged the pink tip at your entrance, feeling your hands stabilise yourself on his shoulders, and drop onto him, both letting out a moan.

You bent your legs, for leverage, hips bucking into his to get friction while his hands grasped your hips. "You feel so good around me," He gasped. You nodded at his words, lips finding solace on his skin again to kiss his flesh.

It was pure bliss between the two of you, in the warm, sweaty room. Moans and wet sounds bouncing off the walls.

The door suddenly ripped open, a gush of cold air fanned your back. Your head whipped around to see what it was, or rather, who it was; Patrick Zweig, standing in all his naked glory.

Your hips didn't stop their movements, even though Art stiffened at the intrusion. A wicked grin cracked on Patrick's face at the sigh. "Huh. World renowned tennis star getting fucked like a whore in the men's sauna before a big game," Patrick whistled. "Who would've guessed?"

"G-Get out, Zweig," Art said, words stuttering from pleasure.

"No, no. I don't think so. I think I'll just sit here and enjoy the show," You watched him sink down onto the opposite side of the room, brown eyes looking from your face that never left his view, to where you and Art were connected at the hips. He couldn't help the stiffening feeling between his legs, not caring for his cock to slowly harden, and out in the open.

Perhaps you should've stopped and ran out in shame. Perhaps Art should have begged you to stop instead on having his fingers dig deeper into your hips, his own bucking up into yours. Perhaps you should've looked away when you saw Patrick take his own cock in hand and fist it, matching the same pace you fucked Art.

Perhaps it was all the reason you came too quickly, mouth falling open as moans tumbled from your lips, getting Art's thighs coated in your cum. You felt him curl up, his own high nearing. He slammed you down on his cock, before filling you up.

"Aw man," Patrick chuckled, though it was slow and rugged with lust. "The show’s over and I barely started jerking off." He sighed, throwing his hand up, no longer touching himself.

You turned to tuck your head between Art's neck. Panting from your labour. "What do we do?" You whispered to him.

"Wait until he leaves."

He did not. In fact, you heard the floorboards creak with Patrick's weight, until you felt a presence behind you. "Hey, Art," Patrick spoke. "You gonna move over so I can try her?"

Your heart dropped, at first in surprise before your mind mulled over scenarios. Art's eyes shot up and glared at Patrick, who just stood there and smirked. "Excuse me?"

"C'mon, man. It's not like it's the first time we shared her," Patrick had to bring up the one night you three shared in college, the one you never spoke about again. You didn't hate that night, in fact you used to think about it often, but Patrick grew to become a major prick thereafter, forcing you to forget about it.

Art stayed silent, until he sighed. Using his hands, he moved you to look at him. "You can tell him no."

You took in a breath, chewing on your bottom lip. You stared into Art's eyes, looking, searching for any sort of plead, or hesitation, but got none. Did he want to share you? Would he be willing to? "I don't mind," You whispered. "But if you don't want to, then we don't."

Art pried his eyes away from you to stare at Patrick, a multitude of emotions, ones that didn't look all too pleasant. "Only this once."

Patrick let out a grumble through his chest, happy you two agreed. Perhaps it would change the way on court. "You got it, hermano," Patrick slipped a hand on your shoulder, pulling you off Art's lap to stand, back pressing against his chest.

His one arm was wrapped around your shoulders while the other was snaking it's way down, tips of his fingers brushing along your tummy in the ticklish area that had it convulse, until they pressed into your pussy, collecting the residue from both you and Art. When he was satisfied with what was gathered on his fingers, he brought them to his lips and let out a groan at the taste of both of you.

"It tastes so good. You should try," He don't give you time to protest before reaching down to collect more cum before shoving his fingers in your mouth, having you choke and sputter until your tongue licked away at the salty liquids. "God, if that's the way you suck my fingers then I can't wait until I feel you suck my cock."

His fingers left your lips, hand moving down to grope your left breast, squeezing at the flesh.

"Tell me something, Art. How rough do you fuck her—ooh no wait, how rough does she fuck herself on you?" Patrick asked, eyes flirting to Art who just glared at the brunette, knuckles paling as he gripped the bench. Patrick smirked at the silence he got, from both ends.

He roughly grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at him, he clicked his tongue in fake pity.

"Poor thing, not treated right?"

"I'm treated just fine," You told him. "Thanks."

"Hm, we'll see." Patrick basically threw you forward, hands seizing your wrists behind your back, having you at a near 90 degree angle, face close to Art's. Patrick used his foot to nudge open your legs. You felt the tip of his cock brush your folds, before he abruptly shoved his entire length inside you, he wasn't as long as Art, but he was more girthy.

Your face screwed in pain, giving you no time to adjust before his hips snapped against yours, fucking into you at light speed. "O-Oh, fuck," You whined, head falling forward from pleasure.

"That's what I thought. Needed someone to fuck you right," Patrick chuckled, taking one hand and slapping your ass, making you howl in pain. Patrick's brown eyes found Art's, who was still glaring at him, yet he had a blush on his cheeks. Patrick smirked. "Take notes."

"If you only fucked her to be an asshole, then you can stop." Art growled, anger sizzling in his chest.

"Nope, just doing it correctly." Patrick nearly fell forwards when he saw a sliver of movements on Art's end. His tongue swiping to wet his bottom lip as he gave Art a shit eating grin. "You bastard. You getting off to watching your old best friend fuck your girl? Dirty, dirty boy."

Gasps and moans clashed in your throat, getting the strength in your neck to look up where Art was, indeed, fisting his cock. Your mouth salivating at the sight. "L-Let me help," You stammered out, letting your lips fall open. Art gently grabbed your head and positioned it lower, sighing when he felt your tongue lap out and lick his tip.

It was so contrasting, the way Patrick was manhandling you, tip nudging that one sweet spot deep within you while his fingers slapped, scratched and groped your ass and Art's gentle caresses on your hair. It was like heaven and hell, all in a sauna, perhaps you were limbo.

"You're squeezing me so tight, baby. I'm so close, gonna let me cum deep in your pussy?" Patrick moaned. Words slurred from drunken pleasure.

"Patrick—." Art warned, a damn near growl escaping his chest.

"Nuh uh, man. I can't pull out now."

"Patrick—."

"Fuck!" Patrick moaned, his movements sloppy as he spilled his seed inside you. Panting as he caught his breath.

He was quick to pull out before dropping to his knees. He grabbed your ass cheeks and spread them apart before he dove his face inside, tongue rolling against your clit.

His own cum spilling from you and onto his nose and top lip. That man ate you out like a starved man.

Art's hips jerked before he was cumming in your mouth, fingers tightening slightly in your hair as your name fell from his lips.

"Gonna cum," You moaned, words coming out unclear as your mouth was still full of Art's cum. You couldn't get the energy to swallow, it slowly dribbled out your mouth, along with your drool and back onto Art's cock, Art couldn't lie and say it wasn't one of the hottest things he's seen, not even phased that you didn't swallow.

Patrick grabbed your hips and pushed you further down onto him, mouth open as you came on his tongue, hips rolling on his face. He swallowed most of it. He stood up, with some of your cum in his mouth and his own spit. His hands still kept your ass spread, pursing his lips, he allowed for the concoction to dribble onto your neglected asshole.

He didn't do anything to penetrate it, only using his forefinger to spread the liquids from your asshole to your pussy, leaving you wet and sticky all over.

Patrick stood back, allowing for you to hobble towards Art and sit down on the bench next to him. "Let's make a bet. If I win, I get to fuck her again."

"Get the fuck out of here," Art spat, grabbing a towel to help clean you. Patrick just chuckled before grabbing his own towel, wrapping it around his hips before pushing the door open and leaving.

Art turned to you, his voice softer.

"Hey, you alright?"

"Yeah," You smiled meekly. "Just promise me this, you'll win."

Anyways, this was inspired by the beautiful sweaty sauna scene:

#gabgabwrites #my works ✎#x reader #art donaldson x female reader #challengers art donaldson #art donaldson x fem reader #art donaldson x you #art donaldson smut #art donaldson #art donaldson x reader #patrick zweig x reader #patrick zweig #patrick zweig x you #patrick zweig x art donaldson #Patrick zweig x reader x art donaldson

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mattyriddlesbitch · 4 months

Text

Headcanons of the boys while you're pregnant bc my hormones are crazy and want me to get pregnant again so I'm doing this instead.

My period hit an hour after writing this so that explains it.

Draco Malfoy

Stressed omg. Like he wants everything to be perfect

Will hire help when he's away at work just so you don't have to do anything. Cleaning? Maid. Cooking? Personal chef. Even a chauffeur

I, for some reason, feel like he'd handle your mood swings the best. Always so calm, no matter if you're crying, yelling, or stressed.

1000% helping with the nesting period. You're ready to set up the nursery, he's with you, picking out things and setting it up. Will also hire someone to do a cute mural on one wall.

Lowkey will cry by himself when you're sleeping about how happy he is that he's having a baby with you. Like will sneak off to the nursery, sit in the rocking/gliding chair with the ultrasound and smile as tears fall.

Will buy all the types of ultrasounds at one of those places that does it. Normal, 3d, video, getting a recording of the heartbeat(even putting it in a bear). Anything and everything.

Tom Riddle

I'm gonna be honest, I don't think he'd be the best. Like at least not emotionally.

I do feel like he'd get 10x more protective though.

Won't let you leave the house without him. What if something happened to you?

Will help you with everything physically. Like will help with building things for the nursery and doing anything tedious so you don't strain yourself.

Will make sure you don't eat any junk food. Always on top of your prenatals. Making sure you're eating 3 square meals a day and will make sure none of it is food you will puke, making sure if you do puke from the food, you never eat it again.

But when it comes to your mood swings, I don't see him being any more gentle with you than normal. Will probably just remind you it's pregnancy hormones and that everything's okay, but that's about it.

Mattheo Riddle

Doesn't know what to do. Panicked at every new thing happening to you.

Will go to every appointment and ask a million questions every time to the doctor.

Does find your pregnancy cravings amusing and will try them with you, even the gross combos. Will also try to get them for you, no matter the time of day.

Almost like Tom in the protective part, like not letting you leave without him or someone else.

Tries so hard with your mood swings. He doesn't understand how to calm you down. He understands it's pregnancy hormones, but doesn't understand how you're crying over a dog video and doesn't know how to calm you down.

Will not let you do anything for the nursery other than pick out items. Will bring a comfy chair in the room or set up the rocking/gliding chair first so you can sit in it and tell him how you want everything, where you want everything placed, all that.

Blaise Zabini

The best. Omg. He's already so sweet, and this will just turn him into the sweetest boy ever.

Already buying matching outfits for all of you the day you tell him you're pregnant. Also buys you the cutest maternity clothes, you're almost disappointed when they don't fit anymore after the baby.

Loves indulging in your cravings. Even if it means getting up at 2am to go get ice cream because you want this specific ice cream, not what we have in the freezer.

Will talk to the bump at night so baby will recognize his voice. Also loves feeling the kicks. Also buying a doppler so you two can hear the heartbeat whenever you'd like.

Didn't understand the nesting period at first, like why are you cleaning and stressed about getting everything ready? We still have two months. Once he learns, he is off his ass and helping with everything.

Also like Tom with the meals and prenatals, but doesn't mind junk food. Just tries to get you to eat healthier food first, but baby's in charge here, he knows if baby doesn't want it, you're not eating it and would rather have you eat cheetos and candy than nothing.

Lorenzo Berkshire

Cries when you tell him you're pregnant, partly from happiness, partly from 'holy shit we're gonna be parents'. Cries when he sees the ultrasound too.

So doting. Asking every 5 minutes if you need anything, water, a snack, a massage, cuddles?

Handles your mood swings pretty well. He just wants to find out what the problem is. How can he fix it? Hugs? Cuddles? Kisses? You wanna go get some treats or snacks or food?

Obsessed with your bump. Paying for the top top top maternity photographer so he has high quality pics forever. Buying cute maternity clothes that show off your bump.

Will let you help with small things for the nursery, like putting up decorations on the shelves and wall and rug just so you can feel like you helped without doing anything too tedious.

Will get you a pregnancy pillow but gets so jealous of it when he realizes it's pretty much impossible to cuddle you with it. 'Am I not comfortable enough?' Glares at the pillow when you're not looking like it's a real person.

Theodore Nott

Smiling like an idiot when you tell him. Hugging you so tight, he's nearly crushing you.

Already like your personal chef, but he's researching the best meals for pregnant women and making them for you. Lowkey almost feels insulted if you throw any of them up but has to remind himself it's not you or him, but the baby. Will whisper to your bump when your sleeping too about 'how dare they? that was excellent food?'

Speaking of, is big on talking to the baby, like he'll come home and lay or sit down with you and talk to the baby about his day. Not even directed at you and if you make a comment, he'll jokingly say smth like 'hey, I'm talking to the baby, not you.'

As soon as you get the furniture for the nursery, he's setting it up. You don't even have to ask and it's most likely done without you knowing. Like you'll walk into the nursery and all the furniture is ready to go, you just need to decorate and rearrange.

Will have a shelf dedicated to yours and his old baby stuff too, just so there's a little part of you two with the baby always.

Finds your mood swings funny and tries not to smile, but you can tell and it makes it worse. 'cara mia, why are you crying? it's just a commercial.' He'll say, but wrap his arms around you anyways to comfort you.

Taglist:

@jeannie-beannie @yourenogoodforme @mixvchelle @helendeath @evaslytherpuff

@soaked4abby @hpnsfwaddict @mayamonroem @motherfing-stargirl @brittney-121

@dracoslovergirl @littlemadamred @mattheoriddlesbitch @acornacreacure @opheliamalfoy236

@demieyesore

Let me know if you wanna be added!

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smutoperator · 9 months

Note

Cam you make jihyo and eunbi x m reader.eunbi and jihyo is reader horny mommy,jihyo want reader to make her pregnant and eunbi want it too because she was jealous.

The Breeding Clinic

Park Jihyo, Kwon Eunbi x Male Reader

Tags: breeding, creampie, titfucking, nurses, rough sex.

Word count: 5961.

Day 1

The last few hours hadn't been the best for Dr. Park Jihyo. Attracted by the alternative of a stable job beyond her already long idol career, she had decided to get a job at a medical clinic in the days she wasn't performing in Twice. However, the first few days of the job had been exhausting for her, leaving Jihyo in a state of despair. As the last patient entered the room, he found Jihyo with her head down, having enough of such a job.

"Hi, I'm here to see a doctor." You entered Jihyo's room. She wasn't much in the mood for another patient this late in the day, having even forgotten she still had someone waiting for an appointment. In spite of that, Jihyo kept it professional, putting her head up as you talked to her, asking for your name to see if that was indeed the case, and then confirming you were indeed scheduled for an appointment. "Sit down there; I'll be back soon with the procedures." Jihyo stared at you, dirty thoughts already in her mind as she looked for. Her previous patients were all insufferable dudes with little man syndrome, but you look different. She kept looking at your sexy stature and plotting what she was about to do.

Jihyo put her uniform in a position where you could clearly see her massive tits popping out before exiting her room. You took the magazines she had put in the waiting room to market her "TT Clinic", almost wondering if this wasn't a scam. The magazine had nothing regarding medical procedures, and it was filled with sexy pictures of two idols: Jihyo and Kwon Eunbi, who was apparently the other doctor in the clinic. You keep looking at the magazines and seeing the same thing before the sound of high heels coming out of Jihyo's room interrupts you.

"Come to my room." She says. You look shocked as Jihyo is wearing those sexy nurse costumes you'd usually see at a party but not at a clinic. A perfect cleavage to showcase her boobs, a red thong, and a pair of gathers connect her nurse outfit to her pantyhose. You obliged, sitting in her medical chair as Jihyo picked up her instruments, ready to examine you. "So, what issues do we have here?".

"I injured my hand; I don't even know how to tell because you'd feel so embarrassed knowing the reason", you tell her. "It's fine; you don't need to tell me; just disclose the injury. Now we're going to follow some standard procedures. Can you please take your shirt off?", Jihyo asked. "Alright", you say as you take it off. Jihyo doesn't even look at your hands, checking instead your heart rate, her breasts bumping against your chest, making you feel a little embarrassed, leading you to ask, "What kind of exam is this?"

"Just relax, baby; trust your doctor", Jihyo replies as she puts her hands under your pants, also taking them off while placing her boobs against your face. Things start taking a wild turn as she wraps her blood pressure monitor around your cock. "Looks too flaccid; let me do something to make it go up", she says, licking the tip of your wrapped cock, as you're only able to groan as her tongue keeps making some naughty circular moves around your tip.

"Ahhhhh", you let out your first loud moan as Jihyo wrapped her mouth around the tip of your shaft, making her smile as you screamed. She pumps the monitor, clenching it around your cock as she keeps sucking it. It turns out she knows how to pump someone's blood pressure up as you start to get hard and your penis veiny at each pump and licking Jihyo gives you. "How about that treatment, baby?", Jihyo asks with a big smile on her face, putting the monitor down as she just turned your cock from a flaccid instrument into a throbbing monster. "Hard as rock, would you mind if I sat down on it?", Jihyo asks.

"Sit down? I-I-I", you stutter as Jihyo starts taking her red panties off, her high heels shaking the floor as she walks in your direction, climbing on top of your body as she lines up your big cock against her tight wet entrance. For a second, you forget your injured hand and try to line it up yourself, but she quickly takes control, grabbing your pole with her left hand and sticking it inside her pussy, moaning for the first time on that exasperating day. She wastes no time, taking your full length in one go. "Ohhhh shit" you exclaim as her tight pussy wraps around your cock.

"Much tighter than that pumper, right, baby?" Jihyo brags as she starts bouncing up and down your cock, taking a pair of inclined bounces before riding you straight down. The little air coming out of her super tight vagina makes it queef, as you hold yourself not to cum after not even a minute inside her. You gave her left cheeks a spank, but Jihyo remains unfazed. "Spank me, baby", she says, as it only makes her bounce faster and go all the way up before slamming straight down your cock. Jihyo sets both feet in the chair as she moves faster every time she slams her cheeks down your hips.

You grab Jihyo's ass, but truly, she's the only one setting the pace; her sexy moans make you go even crazier. Jihyo uses your cock like a training toy, her cheeks clapping against your hips as she tests multiple bouncing motions against your dick. She puts her right leg on the floor with her left leg still holding by the edge of the chair, making your cock hit different spots in her womb. "So how do you like mommy Jihyo's treatment, baby?" she asks. "Oh, yes, it's so good", you reply as you pant at every bounce. "Faster, please" you say as you spank her ass again, and Jihyo grants your wish, riding you in a way that feels like your cock is about to snap in half. "Hold on, baby", you can't resist, and you start thursting upwards into her pussy, making Jihyo release her loudest moans yet. "Oh baby yes baby" she says in a cute voice before taking back control and slamming back down. Her tits bounce very close to your face, but Jihyo makes sure to keep them out of your range.

She then pulls out after a long ride and gives your prick a deep sucking. You can't resist her warm mouth, thrusting hard upwards and fucking it the way you wanted to plow her pussy. Jihyo then gives you a long deepthroat before she gags on your massive cock. You grab her by the hair and make her go down on you again all the way into your balls. But Jihyo is a tough fighter and starts stroking and sucking you like nothing happened. As she licks your balls, you give her tits a little pinch, making her bite your testicles in reaction. "Give me that dirty face", you answer back as you give her an even harder facefuck than the first one.

After this oral session, you get up the chair, holding Jihyo's hands and putting her on her knees against the chair, your hands going straight into her wet cunt. Then you give a pair of spankings to her ass. "Bad doctor, this is what you deserve", you tell her. Your tongue then circles around Jihyo's anus, making her squirt for the first time as you lick her butthole clean. Next, you stick a pair of fingers back in her pussy and start fucking her with them. "You like them better than my cock, don't you?", to which Jihyo only answers with louder moans. "Fuck that pussy and eat that ass", she demands, to which you answer with even more aggressive fingering and tonguing.

You can't resist your urge anymore, sliding your cock back inside her warm hole with her wet folds, inviting you into that chair. You put your fingers in her mouth to shut her up as she tastes her nectar straight from her pussy. The loose buttons of Jihyo's nurse outfit couldn't hold anymore, freeing her tits to bounce as you pounded her relentlessly. You firmly groped her melons as you keep pumping in and out of Jihyo. "Fuck that pussy hard" she says as her voice starts to crack. You started choking her as well, leading to her clenching her tight fuckhole even harder around your cock. "AHHHHHHHH. AHHHHHHH AHHHHHHHH" it was all she could scream as you kept stabbing her insides.

"Give it to me, please", the dominant Jihyo had given away to a begging one as you kept increasing the pace. "Turn around", you said as Jihyo could only give muffled noises out of her mouth, going back to suck your cock without even needing to use her hands, before caving in for another round of you pounding her messy face as tears flew out of her eyes. "Put those tits up for me to see", you demanded as Jihyo grabbed her saggy milkers as you kept destroying her throat, eventually making her gag again as you stuck your sword fully inside, with even your balls being engulfed by her needy mouth. You kept slapping your cock on Jihyo's face while her mouth heated up your testicles.

More sloppy blowjobs, deepthroats, and facefucks followed, but you had your eyes on a bigger prize. Noticing how they freely bounced as you fucked Jihyo's face, you turned your eyes to her huge honkers. "Ahhh yeah, put those tits out" you said as you finished throating her, sliding your cock between her soft milkers. Jihyo spits on the top of her tits to let you slide easier into her fun bags, moaning as you split her boobs in half with your cock. Jihyo's iconic tits are your playground now, as she moans like a whore and licks the tip of your penis every time it's within her range. Her hands on top of your shaft, her melons squeezing and gripping it, her mouth sucking it. Everything is an invitation for you to cum.

But Jihyo isn't done. "Give me that cock again", she asks, as you sit on the chair for another ride, this time in reverse. Jihyo's pink, unshaved pussy now engulfs your cock fully. Her tits bounce like pinballs, but you can't see them, leading her to tease you. She rocks her hips, grinding and circling around your shaft, all that while moaning in a manner that sounds like baby noises. You hold her waist as she fingers her pussy, the chair making loud noises as she presses your body against it harder at every bounce. You grab her tits as she stops the bounce to drink her juices straight out of your cock.

Jihyo grunts as you dunk her face against your shaft, then sucks it compulsively, getting it ready for fun. Her hands stroke it with no mercy, and her mouth throats it deep into your balls. Quickly, she's back on top, where she belongs, as you direct your cock using your injured hand straight inside her warm vagina. Jihyo spreads her legs wide open, allowing you to pump deep into her cervix. She moans as she's about to be sent to the heavens. Her pussycat squirts as your balls hit her clit. "OHHHHH FUCKK YESSS, KEEP GOING!" she yells. "OH MY GOD, DON'T STOP", she grunts as you pump her like a piston and grab both her big tits. "Ah ah ah ah ah oh shit", she says as she bites her teeth. "I love the way you fuck me", she says.

But even at the roughest moments, Jihyo never loses her composure, jumping out of your cock like nothing happened, sitting on the chair and spreading her delicious pussy out for you to eat it out, enjoying as your mouth licked her folds. "Oh yeah, baby, lick that clit" she mandated as you kept sucking her insiders while she grabbed her own tits. She puts her right foot in your neck and her right rand in your head, guiding you towards paradise, but you decided to surprise her, sticking two fingers inside. "Oh yes, fuck that pussy", she moaned. You grope her right boob and leave its nipples close for her to lick them as her pussy gets wetter. Jihyo starts shaking with both your mouth and fingers, now stimulating her pussy, her head drops down, and she gets ready to orgasm, coating your mouth with juices just as you grab her tits again.

You put Jihyo upside down in the chair, cock in her mouth, hand in her tits. As you keep mating against Jihyo's filthy mouth, you move upwards and start fingering her clit. "Don't speak, bitch", you tell her as you keep stimulating her. "Stick that tongue out", you also say as she licks your shaft inside her mouth, only letting it out for her to lick your balls. "Play with that pussy", you say as you go back to honking her tits, your cock still in her face. "Wanna do that to my pussy?", Jihyo asks just as you pull out. You grab her by the waist and put her back in the chair on her knees, letting her tits freely bounce.

The pounding continues for a few minutes until she switches positions. Jihyo lies her back against the chair and spreads her pussy wide open for one final round. "I want you to get me pregnant and make those tiddies grow", she tells you. You start pounding her in missionary, your hands grabbing her just under her boobs before you move up, using her knockers as a grip as you pump in and out of her pussy. "Fuck it, yes, harder", she says as you then grab her neck with your right hand and place your left hand on her soon-to-be pregnant belly. You then start going full speed, your hands all over Jihyo's right side, grabbing both her right leg and tit, before your left hand moves into her left tit and gropes it as you get closer to cumming. Her pussy clenches waiting for that warm load. Jihyo pants loudly, making you take your left hand out of her tits and straight into her mouth. You don't want to hear what her slutty mouth has to say, hyper-focused on destroying her tight pussy.

You eventually decide it's futile, just letting that bitch scream. You put her on a mating press, both hands on her big tits. "Ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah oh fuck yes" seems like all Jihyo can say now before she suddenly says, "I want you to fuck that pussy hard until you cum". You grip her boobs even harder, knowing you can't last for much longer. "Please, baby, cum in my pussy", she says with an angelic voice, your hands all over her chest and neck. "Fucking give me that cum. Fill that pussy up; give it to me", Jihyo keeps demanding. You manhandle her like a toy, which eventually leads to you giving in. "Ahhh ahhh ahhh" you groan as your semen flows inside her tight fuckhole.

"Oh fuck, oh shit", you scream as you quickly fill Jihyo up with such a strong load that when you pull out, you still ejaculate sperm into her creamy thighs, and cum quickly starts flowing out of her vagina. "Are you better now, baby?", Jihyo provokes. "A lot better, but my hand still hurts", you reply, ending the appointment.

Day 2

The night after wasn't the best. Jihyo had drained your energies so much that you could barely get yourself hard. Your hand still hurts, but since your medical appointment became a fucking appointment, nothing has changed. So, just like the night before you tried what led to your injury in the first place, jerk off to your endless supply of fancams. However, this time, things weren't working. After the real thing, it was difficult to get hard again. Well, except for one girl frenetically bouncing her tits at some water festival and getting herself wet.

Things got worse the following day; you woke up extremely sore, needing a long bath just to get things rolling. But things took a massive turn when you received an email: it was the bill from yesterday's appointment. The unaffordable cost made your head spin. You felt scammed, ready to go back to the clinic and have a talk with Jihyo. As you arrived, there was no Jihyo to greet you, but another short girl with big tits and a ridiculous nurse outfit. "Hi", she said. You felt almost offended. "What do you mean by hi? What is this?", You showed the medical bill to the girl.

It turns out Dr. Kwon Eunbi's plan worked just as she intended it to. Finding out what you did to Jihyo yesterday made her very jealous and horny. But she needed to find a way to bring you back. Eunbi wasted no time, sending you the medical bill as soon as she set foot in the clinic. You, of course, didn't know anything about this at all. But her goal was met with ease; she knew how mad people can go over money. "So what do you want?", Eunbi asked.

"Jihyo, where is she?", you asked. "Not her shift today; you'll have to wait until tomorrow", Eunbi replied. "What if I don't want to wait until tomorrow?", you said back. "There is no way; she's at another job today and won't come", Eunbi lied. As a matter of fact, she could call Jihyo from her apartment at any moment, but she wasn't going to share with her what she could have for herself. Meanwhile, your blood was boiling. "Fuck!" you screamed. "No way you can call that bitch until tomorrow? What kind of scam do you two run here?", you screamed really mad, but also keeping a look at Eunbi's big tits.

"Stay for today, and you'll find out", Eunbi laughed. Her outfit was even skimpier than Jihyo's, showing off her belly and with just a nurse top covering her tits. Her red panties were just like her big-tit co-worker's. Eunbi got back to her room but left the door open, remaining in your sight. As she turned back to close the curtains, you could see her bare back, her ass in undies, and even a sideboob. Eunbi then turned around and grabbed her tits, teasing you from afar.

"What the hell is this?", you asked, coming towards her room. "You two are not real doctors, just a bunch of scammers", you said. "And who are you to tell us that? I know you liked being scammed by that other big boob bitch that works here, didn't you? She told me everything", Eunbi stood her ground. You grab Eunbi by her arm, growing madder at her. "I'm gonna dennounce you both. Running a brothel disguised as a medical clinic, you two are disgusting", you said. "Surely you didn't find it disgusting when you were fucking the shit out of her baby boy", Eunbi punched back.

"Alright then. Let's find out". You picked your credit card out of your wallet and paid the so-called unafforable medical bill Eunbi had sent you. "So after this money I paid you, be honest: is this a medical clinic or a brothel?", you asked. "It's whatever you want to be, baby boy", Eunbi replied. "Now you're mine too, bitch", you told Eunbi. "Yes, I am", she confirmed, jumping on you as both of you started kissing each other.

Eunbi headed to a different room. She knew that one had been used by Jihyo yesterday, and it still smelled like sex. But she didn't want to fuck while sensing her co-worker's smell. She couldn't stop kissing you; it was really her thing. And you couldn't stop looking at her tits, ready to burst out of that top; it was really your thing. Just like Jihyo, Eunbi was quite strong, as despite her light frame, she managed to pin you against the window. She quickly started working around your pelvic area, putting her hands on your still clothed but already hard cock. "Let's see if you can fuck me better than that bitch", she said.

You answered her moves back, grabbing Eunbi's ass and giving soft kisses on her neck. It wasn't long before you started sucking her right tit, wondering how her milky melons tasted. Yesterday you were too afraid to do that to Jihyo, but today you went after Eunbi's massive milkers from the start. She kept her hands on your cock, exclaiming "Oh you're so hard" as you kept grabbing her boobs. Eunbi couldn't resist for long, dropping to the floor and licking it with your pants still on. She quickly tossed them out, grabbing them with her left hand while wearing her nurse gloves, stroking them, and sucking them right from the get-go.

"Oh my God", it was your first reaction as she finished her first sucking, staring at your massive shaft with lustful eyes. "It's so much better than the old and twinky cocks I usually suck here", she tells you before giving you the first deepthroat of the day and a few more hard and fast strokes, her tits already fully out. Eunbi then added some spit to her intense stroking as she kept diving her mouth in and out of your prick. If Jihyo moans were on the cutesy side, Eunbi's were more like the ones of a veteran pornstar.

It wasn't for long before you unleashed the rage she had made you feel. The first victim was, of course, her mouth. As Eunbi was giving you a deepthroating, you grabbed her by the hair and started fucking her face. Her sexy moans after you pulled out turned you on even further. Eunbi put her tongue out, licking the tip of your penis as you swung it close to her slutty face. Of course you took full advantage, letting her lick your whole cock from balls to tip while also slapping it against her face.

"Use me", she demanded. Hearing those words only increased your desire to fuck the shit out of that bitch as you humped your cock against her face. Yesterday you were too nice to Jihyo, but today you'd be the one taking control and turning Eunbi into your sex object. You inserted your cock back in Eunbi's throat, making her gag. She moaned every time you pulled it out, which drove you insane. You pushed Eunbi close to the bed and slammed your hips against her chin, jerking yourself off as she licked your balls like a maniac. "God you're so fucking slutty!" you exclaimed, grabbing her neck and spitting in her mouth.

You got on her knees and went straight up into fucking her tits, "aaaahhhh. aahhhh, ahhhhhh" out of breath moans coming out of her mouth. You push her tits against each other, holding your shaft with just your thumb as you kiss her. "Yes, baby, slide that cock under those fucking tits", she said, bobbing her head to take your penis head in her mouth. "Spit on it, spit on it, whore", you demanded, fucking her even harder and even using the straps of her fallen bra as a support. Eunbi put her tongue out as your cock kept meeting her needy mouth, sucking it deep as soon as you paused a bit.

"Oh God damn it," you reacted, pushing Eunbi's head against your crotch, making her engulf your sword balls deep again. Out of breath, she lied only the top of her back in the bed as you tried ripping her nurse outfit. It turns out it was easier just pulling her panties to the side and sliding inside her tight mommy pussy. "Aaaaah aaaaahh aaaaah", Eunbi moaned as your cock went between her legs. She attempted to start riding, but you were having none of it, putting her back against the bed and thrusting your hips against her hot body, making her tits bounce from the start.

You firmly groped Eunbi's tits, her moans getting louder at each thrust. You spanked her tits before grabbing her by the waist and sticking your thumb on her belly button. "OH, YOU'RE SO FUCKING DEEP INSIDE ME, DAMN IT", she screamed. Her pussy was on fire as each thurst you gave her made Eunbi twist harder and harder. Eunbi was almost falling on her knees; she wasn't expecting such a rough treatment and quickly started losing the strength she had once shown. You grabbed her by the neck, choking her like she was just a sex doll.

It wasn't long until you carried Eunbi, taking advantage of her weakness, your cock still inside her hole. She screamed as you lifted her off the ground and started carryfucking her, Eunbi's tits bouncing right at your face for you to suck. She felt truly scared; even though she had been fucked in that position multiple times, you had put her completely at your mercy. "Oh my God", she screamed as she spanked her own ass. "Yes, bitch, spank yourself like the useless whore you are", you told her. "Fuck!" Eunbi yelled as she spanked her ass again, leading to your cock briefly pulling out of her hole.

"Put that cock back in, put that shit in", you ordered, punishing her almost immediately. Just as Eunbi tried to make up for her little slip by trying to bounce on your cock, you pulled out of her and slammed her body back first against the bed, while also yanking your pants off. "Oh, baby, please give it to me", Eunbi begged, bobbing her head against your cock while upside down. You kept testing her limits, fingering her pussy while she throated your cock using none of her hands, until finally hitting the right spot in her clit that made her moan and pull it out of her mouth. But she quickly recovered and kept sucking, making you put even more pressure and work your magic inside her folds until you finally turned her into a moaning machine.

"Oh God", she said in the middle of many moans. But you didn't care. "Put that tongue in my balls", you immediately asked from her as she also jerked you off with her glove around your shaft. All your fingers except your thumb were now fucking her pussy, making Eunbi moan with your balls in her mouth. "That fucking pussy is so damn wet", you exclaimed before moving to her tits, groping them hard once more, and sitting on top of Eunbi for another round of titfucking, even better now with her tonguing your asshole.

After a while, you flipped Eunbi back, ripping her nurse outfit for good and going back to work. Her cunt was even wetter now. Eunbi was caught off guard by the speed at which you were plowing her, moaning like a submissive toy. You spat on her vagina and slapped your cock against her clit, before going back in for another extreme pounding, rattling the bed. "Oh God", Eunbi screamed again as you started fingering her while working her insides. Her legs started to tremble, giving you even more room to destroy her unchallenged as her left leg went up in the air. "You're so fucking deep, I'm gonna cum", Eunbi announced as you fingered her hard, making her legs shake even harder.

"There you go, cum for me, bitch", you said as you noticed Eunbi shaking, her legs closing, and her screaming as you kept pounding her while she reached intense orgasms. "Holy shit", you said as her insides closed around your cock, but you kept fucking her relentlessly, taking advantage of a now weaker than ever Eunbi. She kissed you, trying to cling to anything as her fuckhole kept being obliterated. She could barely speak properly, saying a bunch of words you interpreted as "keep sticking that cock deep inside me." After a while, all she could do was beg. "Please, please, please", she kept screaming.

You dropped Eunbi to the ground, letting her taste her juices straight from your cock. "Good girl", you laughed, putting a stop to it as she attempted to suck it deep by fucking her face once more. Eunbi was so weak, you managed to grab her by the nipples and pinch her back against the wall. She put her right leg on the window as you fucked her from behind, spanking her ass in the process. More grunting noises came from her mouth as you continued the pounding and spanking. "You're a fucking animal, fucking me so good", she said. Hearing it gave you further incentive to fuck her even harder, turning her ass cheeks redder at each spanking. "I'm that fucking bitch", Eunbi kept saying.

Indeed, by that point, Eunbi was your bitch, as she started shaking once more. Sensing it, you fingered her folds again, seeking for that second orgasm in just a short period of time. Eunbi lost her balance, gabbing your cock with her left hand as it landed right on her face. "Do you want it, bitch?", you asked her. "Yes, put it on my tongue", Eunbi said, almost losing her voice. She licked your tip before you stuck it deep in her throat once more, grabbing her by the neck as soon as she gagged. You lied on the bed with Eunbi on top of you. She finally got herself fully naked as you inserted your cock back into her pussy. Her big tits were looking amazing.

You gave no time for Eunbi to adjust, keeping control even with her on top, grabbing both her boobs while thursting hard inside her pussy. Both your hands went down to finger her clit as you made the bed scream. "That's for you, my tight pussy, that's for you, baby", she said, almost out of breath as you kept destroying her babyhole. "I love watching that dick split me up", Eunbi said as you spread her clit wide open, exerting extreme stimulation on her sensitive spots. You slapped her clit as she moaned louder, before rocking her hips and pounding her insanely, then gripping her boobs once more. Eunbi had barely any force to do anything, spitting on her own pussy which prompted you to call her a nasty girl. "So good; I'm a dirty fuckwhore", she said.

You put her body close to yours, kissing her while your right hand held her clit. "I'm a fucking whore, I'm a fucking whore, for you", she repeated as your mouth sucked her neck and right boob. "There you go, come on, come on, bitch", you said as Eunbi once again was coming close, shaking her legs once again. Eunbi was now completely dominated, as you grabbed her tits hard and kept plowing her, her head almost falling out of the bed. "Take me, take me, take me", she demanded as you pumped her hard. All she could do was moan. Her legs kept shaking as you fingered her once more, her body twitching as she came onto your fingers. As she released her juices, you spanked her juices and quickly moved back to her tits, stimulating her at both the top and bottom of her body.

"That's my whore, that's my whore", you exclaimed as you rocked the bed, putting your right hand in her mouth to silence her moans. Eunbi started fingering herself as you kept pounding her, finally reaching full climax and rocking her hips against your cock. You asked her to pull it out so she could taste it. Eunbi savored it as if she were a kid eating ice cream, but she wanted more, quickly jumping on top of you and lining your shaft back against her entrance. "Put it in", you demanded, hugging Eunbi as soon as she was deep inside you. Unlike Jihyo, you knew she didn't have the strength for a ride after such a rough pounding, meaning all you got was another chance to destroy her pussy unchalleged.

Of course you took it, starting very slowly and giving her ass some grabbing and spanking. Eunbi was crying at this point; her moans were now followed by tears flowing out of her eyes. "Daddy, daddy", finally hearing those words from Eunbi's mouth made you flip a switch, turning you more animalesque than ever as you switched quickly from slow thursts to another hard plowing, wrapping her body around your arms. "AH AH AH. FUCK ME FUCK ME FUCK ME", Eunbi screamed, trying to hold herself to the bed's headboard and to the wall as you sucked her tits. "DADDY!" she screamed again and started riding you, trying to show she wasn't being utterly dominated, her bounces were deep and slow, almost like she was exerting all the will inside her to execute them.

That didn't last long, as you quickly got back to your normal route, plowing Eunbi once more. You unwrapped her from your arms, letting her body stay upright, reaching now to grab her tits. Eunbi moaned some uninteligible noise, which you heard as "FUCK MY PUSSY", You obliged and kept going, pushing her ass down against your pelvis, then you You quickly take Eunbi in your hands, grabbing her waist with ease, and carry fuck her once more, more violently than ever. You then pull out of her, slapping her face as you put the bed's pillow on the floor, pushing her head towards it. An upside-down Eunbi then screams, "GET ME PREGNANT NOW.".

That was what you wanted to hear. The thought of impregnating two titcows on back-to-back days gets you extremely turned on. You put Eunbi in a piledriver position, grunting as you get back inside her. Eunbi's tits and her slutty moaning mouth upside down make you get even more maniac. "PUT THAT ASS UP, I WANT THAT CUM FLOWING STRAIGHT TO YOUR FUCKING WOMB", you yell at Eunbi as you pull out to let her adjust before going back in again, this time not even looking at her, treating her as if you were fucking your personal fleshlight. "Cum in my little fuckhole", Eunbi demands, to which you answer by spanking her ass. You start groaning, ready to burst at any moment. "OH MY GOD, YOU'RE SO DEEP", she screams. "Spread that pussy for me, bitch", you scream. As Eunbi now can only moan, she closes her eyes, getting ready for you to fill her womb with your thick load. "Give me that fucking cum", she says right as your cock pumps out that white milk straight into her womb. You pull out but have so much to give; some of it bursts right after and hits her tits.

"You drained me good, you fucking bitch", you tell her. "That's amazing", Eunbi says as she cleans your cock, satisfied that she won't have Jihyo as the only one bragging about the wonders of your cock. "Exactly what I needed", you say as you walk out of the room after two days of putting up an exhilarating breeding clinic for these two titcows. Eunbi fainted on the floor as you put your clothes back on and left. As you went back home, you deleted all your fancams from your drive, knowing you'd never be able to replicate the experiences. In your drive, only two sets survived: Jihyo in a bikini and Eunbi bouncing on that waterbomb festival. As if you ever missed them, you could take a look at those tits and remember these special times.

#jihyo smut #eunbi smut #kwon eunbi smut #twice smut #izone smut #girl group smut #female idol smut

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steddieas-shegoes · 7 months

Text

It’s been done in every which way but Eddie being in an accident of some kind that leaves him paralyzed, but his doctors believe he could walk again with intense physical therapy

He’s stubborn and absolutely hasn’t dealt with any of the trauma of the accident and takes it out on his physical therapist, Steve, who is used to patients being pretty angry about their situation

He always meets Eddie where he is though, tries to keep a smile on his face and joke when appropriate and even shares his cookies from his lunchbox with him

Eventually, Eddie starts making some progress, but instead of being happy about it, he panics and cancels all his PT appointments for the week

Steve tries calling, texting, emailing, doing everything he can to encourage him to keep going, but it all goes unanswered until Gareth, one of Eddie’s closest friends, calls him on Eddie’s phone

He’s depressed and he won’t get out of bed, he’s given up. He’s tired of being in pain and having to try to so hard just to move his damn legs a little

Steve isn’t usually this personal with clients, and tells Gareth he can’t discuss anything medical with him due to patient confidentiality, but insists he should try to drag him to the office the next day before it opens

And somehow, probably through guilt, Gareth manages to wheel a very sullen and grumpy Eddie into the side door entrance to the office at seven in the morning

Steve tells him to come back in an hour to pick him up and Eddie ignores the goodbye Gareth says to him

And Steve pretends nothing is wrong at all, goes through the usual temperature and blood pressure check, asks how he’s feeling and gets a grunt in response, asks if there’s any pain and gets an eye roll

But Eddie met his match in Steve because Steve then pushes him to the center of the workout room, where a large mat is out and a walker is set to the side

“What’s that?”

“Your walker.”

“I don’t need one seeing as I can’t fucking walk.”

“You are today.”

And Steve knows he’s pushing and he hates being pushy

But he knows what his clients are capable of, and he knows without a single doubt in his mind that Eddie is ready to use the walker for five to ten minute increments. He has the leg strength and the stubbornness, he just needs the belief in himself

“Do you want me to hurt myself worse?”

“Of course not. And if you get tired, the seat on the walker is right there. But you can walk and you will walk.”

“And if I call Gareth to come get me right now?”

“Then I don’t believe my services are of value to you anymore and I’ll wish you the best.”

It pained Steve to say it because he knew he was fucking good at what he did, maybe the best in town. His clients often had to wait for his availability to open for weeks or months at a time because of how many people were referred to him

But he said the right thing because Eddie huffed, groaned, and cursed under his breath before wheeling himself to the edge of the mat to hold onto the walker

He pulled himself up

His legs were shaking from not being used for the last few days more than the bare minimum, but his determination was clear

Steve slowly pulled the chair away as Eddie unlocked the brakes of the walker and glared at Steve as he took one step, then two

Sure, he was relying pretty heavily on the walker, maybe more than Steve would’ve liked to see, but he was moving

He made it across the mat and then locked the brakes, sat down on the pad on the walker, and gave a sarcastic grin to Steve

“Happy?”

“Are you?”

And maybe Eddie wasn’t ready to be asked that because he was suddenly sobbing, covering his face as tears flowed down his cheeks

Steve gave him a few seconds before moving to kneel in front of him, pulling his hands away

“You deserve to have your life back, Eddie. You’ve been lucky to have the chance to walk again. Let’s not waste it, okay?”

Eddie spent the rest of the session walking across the mat and taking breaks every two minutes or so

It was better than Steve even expected, but he reminded Eddie not to do too much at once

Eddie didn’t miss any more appointments with Steve, and every appointment, he seemed to be more charming and flirty, more like “the old Eddie” according to Gareth, who drove him most days

Steve never admitted it out loud, but he knew what he felt for Eddie was different from other clients. It felt more personal, and it felt like it could be more someday

When Eddie graduated to a cane, Steve’s services were officially no longer needed

And Eddie decided that he should probably take Steve out on a date

“Since I can walk and hold your hand now,” he winked.

Steve should say no, but he doesn’t

Because holding Eddie’s hand feels even more right as his boyfriend than it did as his physical therapist

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #headcanon #physical therapist Steve #idk going through my notes on things I’ll never have time to actually write #but maybe someone else does #I’m literally ignoring work so hard right now #I’m just tired!!!!#im just a girl who doesn’t wanna work anymore!!!!#cw: injury #cw: mention of accident

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moonstruckme · 2 months

Note

Hey lovely, how are you?

I’m not sure if I should be answering this through here, but here we go

I had already read that lil’ drabble and it’s perfect!!! Please don’t get me wrong, I really love it, but I was thinking of something a little different.

Maybe reader has to get a vaccine (because she was stalling to do it) and when the boys find out they were like “you need to get it, it’s for your health” and reader goes like “fine”. Well, it wasn’t fine. When reader finally realizes what’s happening she turns into this sobbing mess and it just breaks the boys hearts 💔

I know this is kinda specific, sorry. It’s what always happens to me when I go get vaccinated and I always end up crying more than I thought I would.

It’s totally fine if you don’t want to do it, though! Also, sorry if some terms were wrong, english is not my first language lol

Anyways, love you and love your work!! 🫶

Thanks for explaining babe, and for requesting <3

cw: needle, also I have once again written myself into an inaccurate emt situation and am once again asking for your feigned oversight of the erroneousness. Thank you mwah!

emt!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.2k words

You’re being quiet. James keeps trying to pick up conversation, but you won’t engage for more than a few words and a terse smile before falling silent again. They’ve all picked up on it. From the driver’s seat, Remus keeps casting scrutinous glances at you in the rear view mirror. James has given up on trying to get you to talk and is just grateful you’re letting him be near you, his hand on your leg while you stare out the window.

It’s obvious you’re upset. You like being told what to do as much as the next person, and when they’d found out you’d been avoiding going to get your vaccine they’d been more than a little bossy. Though he’d been as insistent as the other two that it was important to get done, James had honestly felt a bit sorry for you; Remus had decided you were going the next morning before you could get a word in, which would have been next to impossible anyways with the tirade Sirius had embarked on.

James feels a bit sorry for you now, too, when he and Remus are trying to go along with your wishes and keep quiet and Sirius is, quite naturally, goading you.

“You don’t have to be mad at us, baby,” he says, fully turned around in the passenger seat to give you his poutiest look. “We’re all on the same team here, yeah?”

“I’m not mad,” you say to the window.

“I get that you’re not needles’ number one fan, but you know how important this is. We just want you to be healthy.”

You shift in your seat, crossing your legs so James’ hand falls away from you. It stings a little. “Can we not talk about it?”

“Sure, dove.” Remus’ eyes are on you in the rear view mirror again, his hand reaching across the console to cover Sirius’ knee warningly. “We don’t have to talk about it.”

You’re quiet the rest of the drive. James is used to being around people that are stewing (years of friendship with Remus and Sirius will accustom one to that), but it makes him fidgety to think you’re angry with him. He really wants to reach for your hand. You’re too stiff to make him confident you’ll take it.

But when you enter the curtained-off room and don’t go to hop up on the table, you don’t reject the helping hand he offers you to get up. You don’t let go.

Remus leaves to prepare your vaccine, and you don’t seem any more inclined to talk than you had been in the car. James decides to hop up on the table beside you, putting an arm around your shoulders when you seem amenable to it, and Sirius leans against the desk, thwacking a pen in a lazy rhythm. You feel tense under his arm.

James is beginning to suspect you’re not actually angry.

“You okay, angel?” he asks gently.

“Fine,” you say, clipped. It’s the same response you’d given when they’d strong-armed you into this appointment. He’s not sure if he believes you anymore.

James is suddenly glad he came. Though Remus and Sirius had to come in for their shift and will be staying after, he only tagged along because he wanted (as always) to be wherever the three of you are. Now that he has an inkling of how you’re feeling, James is glad he’ll be with you to drive you home, look after you in case you have any side effects, and generally help you relax after this is done. Right now, you seem to be winding tighter by the minute.

Remus comes back in, and James looks over to find your bottom lip trapped cruelly between your teeth. Your expression looks almost pained.

“Honey…” he murmurs.

Remus and Sirius look up in alarm as your eyes line with silver.

“Hey, baby, it’s okay.” Sirius pushes off from the desk, sitting on your other side and winding an arm around your waist. “You’re fine, this’ll only take a second.”

You give a little sob, reality setting in. James sees the surprise and anguish he’s feeling reflected on Sirius’ face as the other boy kisses above your eyebrow.

Remus’ expression is carefully calm as he approaches, holding up an antiseptic wipe like a symbol of peace. “Just breathe,” he says, voice soft and slow as he pushes up your sleeve. You watch his every move, every one of the muscles beneath James’ hand tense. “You’ve got nothing to worry about. In just a little bit we’ll be sending you home with Jamie, yeah?”

He picks up the vaccine, and you suck in a breath, pressing into James’ side to get away from it. “Wait wait wait,” you say in a rush, voice tipping up with panic as tears spill over your waterline. James' heart veritably shatters. He feels it happening in his chest, but they’ve all dealt with patients like this before. Waiting doesn’t help anything.

“You’re fine,” Sirius promises you, helping Remus to hold your arm still while James shields your vision with his hand. “Don’t look, you’re okay.”

James doesn’t watch the needle go in, but he hears your reaction, a wet inhale that catches in your throat followed by a torturous whimpering sound.

He presses a kiss to your hair, whispering a quick, “You’re good, lovie.”

Remus hums in quiet agreement. A moment later he’s setting the syringe back down on his tray, replacing the spot with a plaster. James lets his hand drop, and Sirius cheers as Remus rubs small, sympathetic circles over the spot with his thumb.

“You did it, gorgeous!” He pecks you on the cheek, mindless of its dampness. “You’re done.”

Another tiny sob breaks out of you, and Remus’ brow creases pityingly. He touches his lips gently over the plaster on your arm. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I didn’t realize quite how nervous you were.”

You sniffle. “It’s okay,” you say. Your voice comes out a bit frayed, and both James and Sirius coo in sympathy.

“My poor girl,” the former whines. He tugs you away from James’ hold, clearly fed up with not doing his fair share for your physical comfort. “I thought you were just peeved with us. I didn’t know they made you that freaked, sweetness. You did amazing.”

“You really did so well.” James thumbs under your lashes, collecting water on his thumbnail. “You were so brave.”

“Don’t patronize me,” you mumble, growing sullen again.

“We’re not, dovey, we’re not.” Remus rubs up and down on your arm placatingly. At this rate, James thinks, you won’t have any muscle pain at all. “This is more difficult for some people than others. It’s really difficult for you, and I’m proud of you for getting through it. Alright?”

He’s looking at you intently, waiting for you to confirm you understand. You go a bit shy under his gaze. “Okay,” you acquiesce softly.

“Good.” Remus kisses your forehead. “You’re all done here, so you two can head home. If you start to feel ill or odd at all say something to Jamie, alright?”

“I’ve got her,” James reassures them both, hopping down from the table. Sirius holds you still a moment longer, kissing the same spot Remus had before letting you go. You slot under James arm like you always do, like it’s where you’re meant to be. “We’ll text you pictures of all the ice cream we eat and films we watch while you’re working.”

“Fuck off,” Sirius laughs. It catches, and you chuckle softly, the sound making all three of them breathe a sigh of relief.

James squeezes you with his arm around your shoulders as he walks you out.

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jaeyunverse · 11 months

Text

kiss cam

pairing: yang jungwon x fem!reader

genres: fluff, frenemies to lovers, high school au, basketball au

wc: 3770

warnings: profanity, mentions of kidnapping

summary: you were fully prepared to spend valentine’s day alone. yang jungwon was fully prepared to blow your mind.

note: i know i’m off season but i still hope y’all enjoy <3

masterlist

It was Valentine’s Week and you were absolutely, extremely, horribly miserable.

You didn’t particularly care about the celebrations, but the feeling of loneliness first began to creep in when the student council appointed a Valentine’s Day Dance committee and made them decorate the entire school.

There were banners and streamers hanging everywhere. The culinary club was selling heart-shaped cookies and the broadcasting club was busy urging students to get their dance invites every few hours. You wished the PA system would malfunction and they would finally shut up.

Some boys even had the genius idea to capitalise Valentine’s Day and ask people out on behalf of the students who paid them for their services. They called themselves Cop-Your-Crush.

Classes were being interrupted all day long. You were witnessing a grand proposal being made multiple times a day. Just today, you had seen three girls being asked out and each proposal had been better than the one before.

Karina got asked out through a song the choir group sang for her. She quite literally burst into tears because her boyfriend, Soobin, still remembered the song they had first kissed to.

NingNing got asked out when a member of Cop-Your-Crush sweet-talked Mrs. Kim into letting him take over her presentation. He’d prepared a cute montage using the pictures provided to him by her boyfriend.

Yeji got asked out by the cheerleaders. They had prepared a special cheer for her, courtesy of Heeseung, also a member of Cop-Your-Crush, and his girlfriend, Chaewon, who was cheer captain. They were both Yeji’s best friends and had spared no expense in helping her boyfriend deliver a memorable proposal.

You thought the entire concept was corny, but it would have been nice to have someone ask you out too. You didn’t even have any expectations. Just a simple Hey, will you be my date to the Valentine’s Dance? would have sufficed.

Needless to say, you were irritated and cranky. You were debating begging your mom to let you skip school tomorrow. It was the thirteenth of February, so Valentine’s spirit was definitely going to be at an all-time high.

You slammed your locker door shut. Slumping against it, you clutched your books to your chest and sighed deeply. If only you had the courage to ask your crush to the dance. It was sort of surprising that he still didn’t have a date.

He was really attractive and really popular. You wondered why—

“Keep moving, dummy,” a voice popped from behind you, and you couldn’t help the groan that left your mouth. Deciding to not acknowledge the person further, you pushed yourself off the locker and turned to leave in the opposite direction. However, they seemed to have different plans for you. Throwing an arm around your neck, Yang Jungwon twisted you around and said, “Class is this way.”

“Piss off, Yang,” you snapped, trying to not stumble as he dragged you along.

“Are you coming to the basketball game tonight?” Jungwon inquired.

He wasn’t much taller than you, so when you glanced up at him, you found your faces only a few inches apart. “Why?”

“We’re playing Riverside High. You know there’s a bet between our schools, right? Losers have to jump in the lake at midnight.”

“Okay. Let me know if you lose and I’ll meet you there to enjoy your humiliation.”

Jungwon narrowed his eyes and flicked your forehead. You let out a sound of protest and slapped his hand away. “You think you’re so funny.”

“I think I have better things to do,” you retorted. “I’m supposed to pick up my sister after her soccer practice and drive her to her friend’s house for a sleepover.”

“That can be taken care of,” he answered immediately. “Riki will do the chauffeuring in your place.”

You snorted. “No.”

“C’mon!” Jungwon complained, moving to stand in front of you. You crossed your hands and raised an eyebrow. “I need you at the game tonight.”

“Why?”

“Because—” he hesitated— “because we always win when you’re watching from the stands. You’re our lucky charm.”

Jungwon was making absolutely no sense. The Bears of Eastwood High were one of the best. They didn’t require lucky charms to win games. Besides, you’d never benefited from the so-called fortune Jungwon claimed you possessed. He definitely had an ulterior motive for wanting you at the court tonight.

“You won the Christmas game,” you pointed out. “I wasn’t there that day. I was with my family at my childhood home.”

“Well, I thought you were at the game,” Jungwon corrected. “That’s why we won.”

You sighed and rolled your eyes. Stepping past his figure blocking your way, you said, “You need to get rid of these superstitions.”

“Please!” he begged, following after you the way a lost puppy would. “Winning tonight would give us a ticket to regionals! Can’t you let me have this?”

The desperation in his voice was so evident that you couldn’t help the crack that appeared in your resolve. You weren’t one to believe in luck, but you still carried an Omamori to stay safe.

You hadn’t exactly been the recipient of any good fortune lately, but your life had been sailing smoothly. Come to think of it, you’d probably subconsciously begun to depend on the charm.

You were a hypocrite for making fun of Jungwon’s superstitions.

“Fine,” you relented. “I’ll come. But—” you added immediately upon seeing a wide grin replace the pout on his face— “after I’m done with my chores. I’m not leaving Hyeri with Riki. He crashed his car into a trashcan last week. I was with him. My life flashed in front of my eyes.”

Jungwon looked slightly amused. “Do you think you might be able to make it before half-time?”

“Easily.”

“Nice,” he popped. The two of you had arrived at your classroom, so he ruffled your hair and bid you goodbye before making his way towards his friend group. “I owe you one.”

“Yeah, you do,” you muttered to yourself.

You finished dropping your sister earlier than expected.

Her soccer practice had run short and when you’d checked your watch after seeing her off, you’d realised that the first quarter of the game would be ending in a few minutes.

You glanced up at the screen displaying the scores as you walked into the gymnasium.

8-3. Eastwood High in the lead.

Good luck was a scam. Shaking your head, you searched for your best friend, Eunchae, in the stands. Your eyes stopped on a girl who was aggressively waving her hands in the air.

You smiled and waved back, making your way to her.

“I was worried you’d be late,” Eunchae said.

You hummed. “Hyeri finished her practactice early so I was able to get here quicker. I don’t even know why Jungwon asked me to come. We’re in the lead.”

“Better safe than sorry,” she popped. “Second quarter just started. We should pay attention.”

You turned to look at the court. While you’d been talking to her, Riverside had scored a 3-pointer. Eastwood was only 2 points ahead now.

You could hear both schools’ coaches screaming despite the loud noise of the audience. Cringing a little when Mr. Jung blatantly cursed at Jungwon and told him to get his head out of his ass, you decided Eunchae had been right about being better safe than sorry.

“Timeout!” Riverside High’s coach yelled. “Timeout!”

The whistle rang and the playing 5 went jogging over to the sidelines. Jungwon’s eye caught yours as he scanned the stands and you waved at him awkwardly. He smiled and waved back, looking rather relieved to see you.

“You guys are so cute,” Eunchae commented.

You whirled on her. “Excuse me?”

“I’m just saying!” she exclaimed, raising her hands defensively. “Jungwon and you would make a really good couple.”

“What makes you think so?”

“Other than the fact that he’s completely whipped for you?” Eunchae shrugged. “You’re into him as well. No! Don’t give me that look! I know you are. I’m not fucking blind, Y/N. You say he’s annoying but I don’t see you pushing him away. I think you love the attention he gives you.”

You crossed your arms over your chest, suddenly feeling awfully exposed. “You’re delusional.”

“Am I though?” She raised an eyebrow. “You both are together all the time. You can pretend all you want, but I know your petty and childish banter is just a cover for the horrible amount of flirting that’s hidden underneath.”

“I don’t flirt with him!”

“He flirts with you and you entertain him! You claim to dislike him but hang out with him at school everyday! An idiot could tell by looking at you how much you enjoy being around him.”

You glared at Eunchae. “I don’t appreciate being psychoanalysed.”

“You just don’t appreciate the truth.” She shrugged. “I don’t know what’s stopping you from asking him out to the dance, but I hope you come to your senses. You don’t wanna regret missing out on someone who cares so much for you.”

Thankfully, the whistle rang before you could formulate a reply. The game began again, and you focused your attention on the court.

It was Eastwood’s way and the ball was in Jungwon’s hand. He aimed high and his eyes set on Jake who was standing at the far end of the court. However, instead of throwing the ball with all his might, he only flicked his wrist.

The ball bounced between a Riverside player’s legs, and Heeseung, who was waiting a little behind him, grabbed the ball immediately. Instead of dribbling, the boy passed the ball right back to Jungwon.

Jungwon caught it without stopping and sprinted to Eastwood’s side of the court. Your jaw dropped when you saw him manoeuvre his way through Riverside’s defence so flawlessly. Even though you’d watched him play multiple times, you’d never really been able to comprehend how good he was.

He’d covered the court by himself without needing to stop or backtrack. It was as if he knew the opponent’s move even before they decided to make it.

The crowd went wild the moment Jungwon executed the layup effortlessly. The whistle for half-time blew a few moments after and Eunchae turned to you.

“That was so good!” she squealed. “He could go pro so easily!”

“He could,” you agreed. “He really is very good.”

You had to admit—watching Jungwon in his element made your heart beat at speeds you didn’t even know it was capable of reaching. You convinced yourself it was the adrenaline and the anticipation from watching the game. Your dad never sat still whenever he watched his favourite team play in the World Cup.

“It’s time for the Kiss Cam.” Eunchae nudged you with her elbow. You turned to look at the big screen hanging from the roof of the gymnasium. The camera focused on Juyeon and Chaeyeon. The couple grinned and pointed at their recording on the screen in excitement before the latter grabbed the former’s collar and pulled him into a kiss.

You felt a smile form on your face. You’d always thought the two of them were one of the cutest couples in your school.

The camera then focused on Mr. Hwang, your biology teacher, and Mrs. Jung, your calculus teacher. You hooted and joined everyone else in the stands as they encouraged the two teachers to kiss.

Whoever had decided the Kiss Cam victims was a genius. Mr. Hwang and Ms. Jung were the youngest faculty members in your school. It was a popular opinion amongst students that they looked cute together. Some even placed bets on whether it would be Mr. Hwang to make the first move or Ms. Jung.

Naturally, the two of them didn’t kiss. They just smiled in embarrassment and waved at the camera, asking it to focus on someone else instead.

You waited eagerly to see who the drone would target next. A jolt passed through your body when you saw yourself on the screen.

Eyes widening, you shook your head and tried to tell them that you were single. The camera didn’t move despite your protests, instead zooming out to include Eunchae in the frame instead.

You paused.

Looked at her.

Considered.

Raised an eyebrow.

“I’m down if you—”

“To your left, you idiot!” she exclaimed, grabbing your shoulders and whirling you around.

Yang Jungwon was standing in front of you with flowers in his hands. His hair was dripping with sweat and his cheeks were flushed. He was panting, but there was a shy smile on his face.

Your heart stopped as he got down on his knees and the entire gymnasium burst into cheers.

“Hey,” he popped.

“Hey,” you answered with much effort. Then added stupidly, “You’re on your knees.”

“No comment about the flowers?”

“Not when you’re on your knees for me in front of the entire school.”

“Oooh, I didn’t know you were so kinky.”

“I didn’t know this was why you begged me to come to the game.”

He laughed and the sound was like music to your ears. You were nervous. You were rambling. There was no way he was going to ask you to the dance. He wouldn’t be stalling so much if he was. He wouldn’t—

Oh.

He was giving you time to wrap your head around what was happening. This was clearly intended to be a well-planned surprise meant to catch you completely off-guard. He—

“Yeah, I would’ve been really bummed out if you hadn’t shown up. My efforts would have been for nothing.”

“So I’m not actually your lucky charm?”

“Of course, you are. I feel the luckiest when I’m with you.” Your chest swelled with an emotion you couldn’t identify. The gymnasium faded into the background and all you could hear was the sound of your heart thudding against your ribcage and Jungwon’s voice as he asked,

“Will you make me lucky again by accompanying me to the Valentine’s Dance?”

The game had ended twenty minutes ago.

Eastwood had won by 10 points. You’d thought the difference was pretty good but your Mr. Woo, your school’s coach, didn’t seem to share your opinion. He’d claimed that Riverside never even should have been able to get within 15 points of Eastwood.

He’d been especially tense in the second half of the third quarter when the opposition had begun scoring back to back baskets. It had all worked out in the end nonetheless, all thanks to Yang Jungwon, the MVP of the match.

You still couldn’t believe he’d asked you out and you refused to believe he’d done it in such a grand way.

He was the definition of a jock and goofed around in school all day long. He was charming, sure, but you’d never known he was capable of pulling off something this big.

You’d never even suspected he was a romantic.

Your phone dinged and you unlocked it to check who was texting you.

[eunchae]: wya?

[y/n]: parking lot!! are u here? i’m leaning against my car

[eunchae]: noo i’m home :( btw are u still waiting for him??

[y/n]: yeah he asked me to but the team hasn’t come out of the gym yet

[eunchae]: yikes i heard mr. woo was hella mad we only won by 10 points.. maybe he’s yelling at the players right now

[y/n]: i’m p sure he is LMFAO

Your fingers hovered over your phone’s screen as you waited for Eunchae to type her reply. However, before she could send it, you felt the device being grabbed from your hand.

“What the—” you started, but relaxed when you saw Jungwon standing in front of you with an amused expression on his face. “Yang.”

He quirked an eyebrow. “Someone could have easily kidnapped you, you know?”

“We live in the most boring part of the town.” You snorted. “Baek Seung threatening to chop his neighbour’s tree on local TV was the most interesting thing that happened this year.”

“That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be on your guard,” Jungwon said and moved next to you, leaning against the side of your car as well. He was wearing black sweats and a red hoodie. He smelt of cheap soap and his hair was damp, making you realise that he had probably showered. “Besides, Baek Sung actually followed through. We have a real criminal in our ranks.”

“Didn’t you literally let five sheep loose in our middle school three years ago?”

“That was just a harmless middle school graduating prank.”

“There’s no such thing as a middle school graduating prank.”

“Tell that to the current 8th graders who are planning their prank. I hear they’re going to stuff the hallway outside the principal’s office with helium balloons so she won’t be able to leave.”

You stared at him, a small smile playing on your lips. Jungwon’s eyes dropped to your mouth for a millisecond before he looked into your eyes again.

“Why did you ask me to the dance?” you asked and turned on your side to face him. It was a stupid question but you were genuinely curious.

Eunchae was right before. Jungwon flirted with you all the time and you always entertained him. You enjoyed the attention he gave you. But if this thing between you was just platonic, and if it was never going to progress into something real, you needed to know now.

You didn’t want to hope and wait for something that was never going to happen.

“Sunoo said I was an idiot for not shooting my shot with you,” he replied and turned on his side too. “He threatened to make a move on you if I didn’t get my shit together before Valentine’s Day.”

You snorted.

“Oh, also,” Jungwon added. “I really, really like you.”

You felt a tidal wave of emotions override your senses. Euphoria, nervousness, breathlessness, giddiness, uncertainty and this inexplicable urge to squeal washed over you.

Your heart went haywire inside your chest when Jungwon leaned closer to you and dipped his head so that his face was right in front of yours.

“You’re blushing,” he whispered.

You squeaked and buried your face in your hands. He grabbed your wrists and gently moved them out of the way. “Can I kiss you?”

“I think that would be a health hazard,” you croaked, looking at anywhere but him. “My heart is beating concerningly fast right now. What if I drop dead?”

“I can do CPR.”

The corner of your mouth quirked up in a small smile. Your heart beat slowed down and you began feeling at ease. You wondered if Jungwon could tell that this was the first time someone had confessed to you.

The entire concept of dating and being in a relationship was foreign to you. You doubted Jungwon had much experience in the field himself since he’d only had one girlfriend in kindergarten, but he seemed confident.

You trusted him to take over the wheel and guide you through the strange waters of love.

“Okay,” you breathed and closed your eyes. “Kiss me.”

His hands cupped your cheeks, his soft lips brushing against yours. You sucked in a breath and just stood there, not really knowing what to do.

Your hands itched to grab onto something, so you shifted closer to Jungwon and clutched the front of his hoodie in your fists.

He smiled against your mouth as you rose on your toes and tilted your head to the side.

But then you realised something and hastily broke the kiss. Jungwon stared at you in confusion, but before he could ask what was wrong, you blurted, “I like you too.”

There was a pause. He didn’t say anything for a long moment, so you clarified, “I thought I should make that clear. I mean, you confessed but I didn’t confess back even though I feel the same way and what if you thought I wasn’t into you. I am into you, by the way. I’ve been crushing on you since forever but I never knew how to say it—”

Jungwon swooped in for a second kiss and you melted in his arms. You could get used to the feeling of his lips on yours. They fit together perfectly.

“You are so cute.” He giggled after detaching his mouth from yours. Resting his forehead against yours, he continued, “Eunchae told me last week. She urged me to confess because she knew your stubbornness would never allow you to make the move.”

“What?” you exclaimed, jerking away from him. “Where’s my phone? Give me my damn phone, Yang!”

He grabbed arms before you could lunge at him and search him for your device. “Relax!”

“I’m going to kill her!”

“Why?!”

“Because—” you sputtered, struggling to get out of his grip— “because it’s embarrassing! I was pretending to not like you but you knew I was crushing on you the entire time!”

“It’s not embarrassing!” Jungwon said. “It’s normal—Y/N stop!”

You let your body fall limp in his arms. “I’m going home. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“You’re seriously not going to let Eunchae’s nosiness stop us from having our first date, are you?”

“What?” you asked and moved out of his grip.

He shrugged and shoved his hands into pockets. “It’s nothing special. I was going to ask if you wanted to go out for some food.”

“Oh,” you replied blankly. “Don’t you have a celebratory dinner with your team though?”

“I can ditch them.”

“You shouldn’t.”

“Let me correct myself: I already ditched them. I want to spend tonight and celebrate with you.”

Your heart swelled with happiness. “Really?” When was the last time someone outside of your parents prioritised you? You genuinely couldn’t remember.

“Of course. Do you wanna get some McDonald’s?”

You nodded, but before he could make his way to the passenger’s seat of your car, you said, “Just so you know, I feel the luckiest when I’m with you too.”

Yang Jungwon kissed you for the third time, and by no means was it the last, or even close to the last one you shared that day.

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