#i love them i have missed them my babies......... | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

julymusings · 3 days ago

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you're good to me, baby

with the roar of the fire my heart rose to its feet, like the ashes of ash i saw rise in the heat. settle soft and as pure as snow, i fell in love with the fire long ago.

or; because the red hood bleeding onto your living room carpet is exactly what you need right now [3.6k]

Jason Todd x fem!reader; based on this lovely ask; ngl this turned into a personal vent jason doesn't show up until 1k words in LMAO; warning there’s blood (duh) and reader is type A and suggested to have heavy anxiety; pre-established relationship where reader doesn’t know his identity + muzzle red hood bc HOT

Compartmentalize. Create baskets in your mind. Analyze the situation, and drop the corresponding emotion in the appropriate basket.

One: You had a fight with your best friend. She called you selfish because you weren’t enthusiastic about her new relationship. She just can’t seem to understand that no matter how happy you want to be for her, it’s painful to see everyone find safety in another person when you can’t. Every attempt at romance is squashed by something or the other that you keep doing wrong. I thought you were hot, your latest dating attempt had said when you ran into him and asked why he never texted back. But you’re kind of a lot. Not something I have the space for right now, you know?

Two: There’s an important presentation today, one that could determine the fate of your position in the company. Your coworker, the one who’s convinced you stole his promotion (he just flirted with the higher-ups while you actually completed the requirements), refuses to let you forget how much is at stake. All it takes is one misstep, one stutter, one hesitation, and he will take it as an excuse to demand your demotion— or worse, termination. You’ve been preparing for this presentation for three weeks. If after all that effort it’s still not good enough, maybe you should be fired.

The emotions here? Frustration. Anger. Exhaustion. Jealousy. Just to name a few. But there’s no time to dwell on anxieties right now, so you shove those thoughts aside. Drop them in their compartments and move on because, after all, if you can strip them down to their bones and find where they stem, you can yank those anxieties from the ground before they have the chance to root. And then there’s no need for unnecessary heartache, right?

(Who cares if the baskets are overflowing, crumpled fragments spilling over the sides like garbage in a landfill? Who cares if the room of your mind is so packed that you’re pressed against the wall and breathing becomes painful.)

The digital clock beside your bed reads 6:12. The numbers blink in and out of the window, their red dots and dashes taunting your heavy eyelids. You still have forty-eight minutes of peace before it will scare you awake. Its beeping will ring so loud and angry that the adrenaline from the startle will power you through your morning routine, and your beating heart won’t dare still to entertain wishes of just five more minutes. 6:13 now. You have forty-seven more minutes of peace, minutes which should be spent sleeping, giving your poor brain a break from itself. But you can’t. Every time you close your eyes and begin to sink below the level of consciousness, your heart pumps a house-special cocktail of cortisol that laces through your bloodstream and convinces you that if you fall asleep you will miss your presentation and you will get fired. The off-grid escape plan formulating in your head switches from hypothetical to tentative when your neighbors, apparently awoken to lust as well as tired by it, start going at it again. You want nothing more than to bang on their door and scream obscenities until they hate each other enough to never touch again, but you resign yourself to consciousness, giving up on the dream of what would now be forty-four more minutes of sleep.

It’s Friday morning; only one more day to get through before the sweet release of the weekend finds you. (The whole weekend will be spent contemplating the start of a project, feeling like two days is not nearly long enough to complete anything, and dreading Monday until it finds you with nothing done and the same, endless cycle awaiting.)

After completing your morning routine 44 minutes early, you use the spare time to go through your presentation once more, just for good luck, wrapping up the third run-through just in time to hear your alarm to leave for work.

The presentation goes decent, at least well enough to quell any doubts about your ability to do your job. Your coworker ate his words for sure, and you might have enjoyed the look on his face had you not mentally checked out as soon as you finished your closing remarks. Rush hour traffic has the ice cream tub you bought at the convenience store dripping condensation all over the passenger’s seat and your hips hurt from being in the same sitting position for most of the day, but you remind yourself that peace is only a few miles out. Stopped at yet another red light, your grip tightens on the steering wheel. Breathe in. Breathe out. The line of cars starts to move forward.

When you get home, your frustration is close to boiling over. You kick off your shoes right at the door, your keys and bag following close behind.

Far be it from you to break down on the floor in the middle of the room, the plan begins to formulate. There’s a box of tissues on your desk– that can go on the nightstand, along with two of the chilled water bottles you keep in the fridge for after you work out. And you’ll need something for the tissues, right? The small wastebasket from the bathroom should be fine. You drag it over to the side of your bed, sitting in your usual spot to make sure you placed it at a reachable distance. You won’t want to get out of bed to wash your face after this, so a washcloth should go next to the tissues. And an extra one, just to be safe.

You keep a set of comfortable clothes ready, the nicest, softest pajamas you own that you only wear after an everything shower. This shower, however, is a quick one, not much more than a few minutes under scalding water to comfort you, if nothing else. The light pink pajamas are a high-quality cotton and you feel like you’re in the clouds when you slip into them. Remaining is the ice cream, which you set out on the counter right before your shower so it would thaw just enough to be soft but not melted, With everything in your room ready, you go to retrieve the ice cream but stop with a startle when you round the corner.

“Jesus,” you mumble.

He’s just sitting there, doing nothing except bleeding out on your cream-colored carpet. He’s spread out on the couch like he owns the place, head leaned back against the wall as he lets his injured arm hang over the armrest and drip blood and dirt onto your cream-colored rug. The liquid seeps into the expensive wool, staining it with reddish-brown hues and the scent of iron, and he doesn’t even notice.

“Hey.” The Red Hood lifts his head when he sees you.

On any other day, you’d be quick to action, hauling him up off the couch and sprinting for the first aid kit under the bathroom sink. Today, your arms are too heavy and your gaze remains rooted on the widening splotch of red against white. Your throat feels dry. “You’re getting blood on the carpet.”

He peers over the armrest. “Oh, shit,” he curses, lifting his arm to hover it over his lap. He sounds robotic through his muzzle mask. His hood, pulled down to reveal his thick black hair curling at the ends from humidity and sweat, rests on his back.

I don’t have time for this, is what you want to say. You want to scream it in his face and kick him out for having the audacity to think he can come and go as he pleases, that you’re nothing more than a drive-through emergency room who will drop everything if he gets so much as a paper cut. But you can’t say any of this, and you do want him to come to you whenever he needs help. God knows he won’t go anywhere else.

Holding back your heavy sigh, you wordlessly walk to the bathroom. He takes that as an invitation to follow.

It’s clinical. Rehearsed. Neither of you speak. It’s a partnered dance long since committed to muscle memory, steps you can take in your sleep. He knows to seat himself on the step stool you got just for him, for nights like these. He knows where to find the first aid kit and which supplies to hand you first. You know the exact steps to follow. Check the palms for abrasions. Antiseptic to the lacerations. Concussion exam.

Maybe he can sense the air of tension surrounding you, because he doesn’t say as much as he usually does (though, granted, it’s still not much). It’s a reflection of your dynamic several months earlier when this arrangement began, back before you’d managed to chip away at the surface of his rough exterior. You notice the way his fingers curl against his thighs when you, somewhat carelessly, wipe the dirt from his skin with more pressure than necessary and the way his eyebrows tilt inward when you work slower than usual. You notice, but you ignore it.

We both know you have at least a dozen people who could do this for you. The words echo in your mind. Don’t act like I owe you this. If anything, you owe me a new carpet. These are things you wish you could say, but never will. Being realistic, you’ll probably never be able to say things like this. You’ll be subjected to all the shitty coworkers and unsympathetic friends and exploitative vigilantes of the world for the rest of your life.

This isn’t his fault, you remind yourself, but still, your lips turn down and your jaw feels tight with the effort to keep your face still, to not burst into tears right on the spot. In the second it takes for you to calm yourself, your hands pause. He notices. He says nothing.

It’s not until you’re finished with cleaning the blood from his arm wound and giving him a wad of gauze to hold against it that he tests the waters and asks, “Is it too bad?”

He sounds automated, but over the last few months, you’ve learned a thing or two about reading even these robotic actions. There's a certain quietness to the beginning of his sentence like he’s debating if he should say it or not.

“It’s fine,” you say, shortly.

“Sorry about your rug,” he says. He tugs at the strap of his muzzle with one finger, rubbing at the skin underneath the leather. “I can get the stain out.”

You retrieve the needle and thread from the kit and don’t respond. You don’t even look at him.

After a moment’s hesitation, he continues. “It’s easy. You just need salt and—”

“Okay.”

He goes quiet.

You don’t mean to be so tetchy, but you don’t have the energy for anything more. Every little thing has you feeling on the edge of shattering. It’s too much. It’s all too much.

It’s when you’re kneeled at his side, staring into the gaping wound on his bicep and trying to thread the needle, fingers trembling from the chill of the tiled floor with nothing but a layer of thin cotton to keep you warm, that it happens. He shifts on the stool, a mere twitch in an attempt to get comfortable, but it brushes his bloody arm against yours. Flecks of fresh red on the light pink fabric. First your carpet, now your pajamas. Your favorite, special, extra soft matching cotton pajama set, a rare splurge after your promotion that stood out among old t-shirts and sweat shorts. Ruined. Again, he doesn’t seem to notice.

“Did I say something?” Hood asks. He waits for your response, but when none comes, he adds, “I’m sorry if I did.” He speaks so quietly you may not have been able to separate his words from the whirring filter of his mask, if not for the chilling silence of the bathroom floor. The insulating brick walls of your old apartment building are something you’re usually grateful for, but tonight you find yourself wishing for the city’s commotion to seep through the walls. Something, anything to buffer his proximity to you.

You hear his inhale as he prepares to say something else.

“Can you just let me work?” You snap before he has the chance to speak again. It’s loud, louder than you’d ever dream of speaking to him, and he flinches. Your eyes shut in apology, but only for a moment before you get back to it. He looks away. His feet point towards the door.

He wants to leave, you can tell, and you don’t blame him. You just messed everything up. But you started this, so now you have to finish it.

You sit in silence for the several minutes it takes for you to clean his wound and stop the bleeding.

He’s not looking at you, gaze transfixed ahead of him on a chip in the paint. At least, you assume. It’s difficult to guess what’s going on behind the milky white covering over his eyes. His subtle body language can be read if you pay close enough attention, you’ve learned, but that’s not something you care to do right now.

(Maybe you noticed in the back of your mind that he’s not exhibiting any body language since you snapped at him, but the compartment in your head for guilt is already overflowing, so maybe you didn’t notice it, you tell yourself.)

You stare at your sleeve, at the patches of blood blooming like ink blots. The red and pink hues blend together behind your blurring vision. You sniffle.

“Are you—” Hood starts. Because now he’s looking at you.

“Excuse me,” you say, pushing yourself off the ground and stumbling out of the room without so much as a glance back at him. You stagger into your room, needle and thread still in hand, and push the door closed. The lights are off, and the darkness is calming, quieting your buzzing thoughts. You close your eyes and lean against the door. Breathe in. Breathe out. You continue this exercise, breathing in through your nose and out through your mouth to soothe your sympathetic nervous system, the same way a therapist instructed that one time you went. You wipe away the moisture that has collected in your eyes, roll out your stiff neck, dry your sweaty palms over your thighs. You toss the needle and thread aside, because they are definitely not sterile anymore, and take a few more breaths before opening the door and going back to the bathroom.

You avoid his face, following the lines of grimy grout between the tiles before resuming to your spot at his side. His inspecting eyes burn on the side of your face. You wipe down the forceps with a sterilizing wipe and rip open the plastic packaging for a new needle, holding it up to the wound, but your hand refuses to steady.

Another deep breath. Then another.

Hood sighs. It’s almost chastising. “I think I should go.”

“What?” You’re just surprised enough to be torn away from your thoughts and look him in the eye (mask) for the first time all night.

“You can’t do this,” he says, gruffly. “I don’t know what’s going on, but I’ll let you figure it out.”

You scoff. “Yes, I can. I’m fine.”

Before he can argue, you grab him by the wrist to hold him in place just as he starts moving to get up. He winces, but you keep your grip tight on him. You can feel his scrutiny through the cold, expressionless barrier of his disguise, practically track his pupils as they search your face.

You both pretend he couldn’t break from your hold in an instant if he wanted to.

“You’re shaking,” Hood says. His voice is much softer now.

You follow the turn of his head to your hand where it hovers the needle right over his skin. You are shaking. Trembling, in fact.

“No, I’m not.” It comes out as an empty whisper.

You focus all your strength on steadying yourself, but the harder you try to stabilize, the harder you tremor. Your other hand releases his wrist to clamp over your dominant hand and force it to stay in place. It guides the needle closer to the skin, but now your vision is blurring. You blink rapidly, but it’s not enough. The tears start falling. You look away from him, but a warm hand settles over yours. You don’t dare look at him, unable to bear showing him your shameful face, wet and blushing and screwed up in misery. You turn your face into your sleeve. Clamp your eyes shut tight, thinking maybe if you keep them closed, this darkness will swallow you up and he won’t be here anymore.

But the warmth of his skin on yours is the first feeling of softness, of relief you’ve felt in months, and then it’s gone. Your shoulders are shaking, quaking with the effort to keep your sobs quiet.

One finger ever so gently hooks around your chin, pulling it back up to face him. You keep your eyes closed, not wanting to see him see you like this, but the tears are still streaming. He brushes them away. Whether that makes it better or worse, you can’t be sure, because you cry even harder, snatching your face away from his grasp to muffle your sobs into the back of your hand. You don’t realize he’s pushed himself off his stool to sit cross-legged on the floor until you feel his hand circling your arm and pulling you closer. The tools in your hand clatter on the floor as your palms come up to press against his chest, fighting against him with half-hearted protests murmured through your cries. But even with only one good arm he’s too strong for you, and you’re pulled into him.

He’s so gentle with you, rubbing your back and resting his chin atop your head while you cry and cry and cry into his shirt. Several minutes pass like this, with your face buried in his chest and his good arm holding you tightly against him while the other dangles lamely at his side, throbbing with an intensity he’s trying to ignore.

When your sobs die down, and you’re sure you’re all cried out, you linger against him. He smells like smoke and gasoline, and his shirt is soft and warm from his body heat seeping through. His hand continues to stroke up and down the length of your back, even after you’ve quieted. The edge of his mask digs into your scalp where his chin sits, but it feels worth it. Your hands, still pressed to his chest, slide higher, completely of their own volition, out of a newfound desire to wrap your arms around his neck. You don’t hear it, but you can feel his sharp draw of breath, his chest rising quickly under your touch. Your hands lose their nerve at his clavicle as you hold your breath for fear of the smallest movement drawing attention to your forwardness. You wait for him to rebuff you, to lean away from your touch, or grab your wrists and pry them off. He doesn’t.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. His chest finally falls.

Eyes opening, your thumb swipes over the edge of the red bat symbol just below his collarbone.

His movements pause, lightly gripping the fabric of your shirt for just a moment, before releasing it. “It’s alright,” he tells you.

You pull back from his chest to look at him, the way his cold and unfeeling expression stares back at you. You wonder from time to time what’s under the mask, but tonight the desire is overwhelming; you ache with the want to know what he looks like. The color of his eyes. What his mouth looks like when he winces over a deep cut or chuckles at one of your anecdotes. You wonder if his lips are soft or chapped. If he’d like it if you dragged your thumb across the bottom one.

The metallic odor spreading through the room brings you back to the present, and you hope the flush from your tears hides your cheeks’ growing heat when you realize where your mind had wandered.

“Oh, fuck, your arm.” You speak in a watery voice, wiping at your face as the urgency returns to your senses. Though you try to move away, his firm hand on your back pulls you back in.

“Don’t worry about it, okay?” He says, resuming his caresses up and down your back. “I can take care of it.”

“Then why do you even need me?” You sniffle with a small smile.

He stays silent. But when you search his face, waiting for an answer, his hand moves to your side, palm sliding a fraction of an inch closer to your waist and fingers tensing, you can almost see through the mechanical muzzle to the way his lips shape the words. At least, he wishes you could.

You know why.

this was lots of fun to write and thank u for your patience ik i said i was gonna "knock this out in a day" 2 weeks ago😬😬 also we're gonna pretend they aren't just letting his open wound marinate for half an hour when it should be getting stitched up bc it's fiction ok? everyone say thank you mostly-imagines for proofreading this😚

but anyway happy new year!! it's been barely 2 months but starting this account made my year so much better🫶🫶🫶and ty for 500 followers that's crazy🫣🫢

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wileys-russo · 12 hours ago

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Not sure if you’re taking requests but I’m a sad and anxious American who could use a bit of happiness rn. Thank you in advance but also no worries if this doesn’t spark anything.

Just a little fluffy something with Leah or Alessia at home, “there’s no way these are vegan” after surprising them with homemade brownies

special brownies II l.williamson, a.russo

"less you can't eat brownies, we have a match tomorrow." leah reminded sternly as you carded your fingers through the moody strikers hair, her head resting in your lap as she groaned loudly at your other girlfriends words.

"yeah leah a match i have to play on my period! at least let me eat some sort of warm chocolate if i can't curl into a ball and die." alessia mumbled miserably, rolling over and pushing her face into your hoodie covered stomach.

"don't!" you mouthed at the older girl who scoffed and was clearly ready to say something that absolutely would not help the situation. "i'll make you brownies for after the game tomorrow baby, i promise." you assured alessia, rubbing her back gently as she huffed, clearly not happy but somewhat accepting of the offer.

"with ice cream?" "with ice cream." "that vanilla bean ice cream in the blue container?" "yes lessi, i will make sure to buy that exact ice cream just for you."

"you're going to bake brownies from scratch?" leah snickered, lifting your shared girlfriends legs and settling herself onto the sofa, alessia digging her heels into leahs thigh mumbling about a foot massage, making the defender roll her eyes but oblige none the less.

"yes i am. are you going to try and tell me i can't? little miss 'childrens menu'." you narrowed your eyes skeptically, feeling alessia chuckle lightly before leah squeezed her foot too hard and her head popped up to shoot her a glare.

"well babe i think we all remember the last time you tried to bake. i, at least, can admit that i am not a good cook. which is why i'm dating one and a half of them!" leah grinned, quickly assuring the grumpy striker that she was the one and you were the half.

"half!" you protested, a little pinch to your thigh meaning you resumed scratching alessia's back where you'd paused momentarily, glaring daggers at the other girl a few cushions down.

"you do your best baby, and your best is good. but maybe you could just buy some brownies? that little cafe leah loves does them with the chocolate chips, we can grab a coffee and then heat them up later after the game." alessia mumbled into your chest, patting your thigh in an attempt to show support.

"do you both really think i'm that incapable of making brownies?" you asked in disbelief, the silence in response practically deafening. "wow! well the truth comes out." you scoffed in offense, both blondes heads snapping toward you as you attempted to wiggle out from alessias grip.

"no come on love don't be like that! baking just isn't for everyone. same as football isn't for everyone or maths isn't for everyone, its fine!" alessia held on tightly, tugging you back down and shuffling her body to lay on you more as you crossed your arms.

"everyone has their own special skill set baby girl, yours just doesn't include baking. more like...burning? hey i bet if we were ever stranded on a desert island you'd be able to get a fire going!" leah was clearly trying to be on the same supportive track as your other girlfriend but failing miserably as even alessia cringed at the attempt.

"no baby she didn't mean that don't-" but this time you managed to pull yourself free and roll out from beneath alessia, shooting up to your feet and taking turns glaring at the two blondes still laid up on the sofa.

"tomorrow i will not be coming to your game. i am going to spend the afternoon here baking and you will both come home to the best fucking brownies you've ever tasted-no actually the best vegan brownies you've ever tasted because i am that confident that i can do it. even without dairy!" you announced, stomping off to go sulk by yourself and look up some recipes.

"wait but babe you're still going to get regular ice cream right? not vegan ice cream? right? babe!"

you'd been so confident, you really had, which had made the fall from grace and back into reality a difficult one.

the reality that your girlfriends doubts weren't so far fetched and you might not actually be capable of baking, all the more prickly an acceptance to swallow.

which is what had lead to this disgustingly sneaky switch, the evidence of your previous three attempts scattered strategically around the kitchen for your lovers to see, and the evidence of the store bought brownies you'd rushed out to buy instead well hidden at the very bottom of the trash bins.

you'd just taken them out of the microwave to warm them up, very carefully stacking them up on a plate when you heard alessia's car in the driveway, leah playing passenger princess today.

they'd done their best this morning to grovel and sweet talk and try their very hardest to change your mind about coming to the game but you were stubborn by nature and once it was made up there wasn't much to be done to change it.

so they'd trudged off to the match like kicked puppies and you'd spent your afternoon burning chocolate and yelling at the oven trying to shift the blame before inevitably accepting your fate.

however you'd made such a fuss and a point both last night and this morning about your abilities that you may have accepted your fate, but you had no intent on letting your girlfriends do the same, the art of deception hopefully saving you the further embarrassment of eating your words with an audience.

"you did it!" alessias eyes lit up as she entered the kitchen first, hair damp and scraped up into a bun. "congratulations on the hat trick baby." you smiled, pecking her lips a few times before her loving gaze dropped down to the sweet treats on the counter.

"i think she plays better on her period." leah mused as she wandered in, the younger blonde shooting her a dirty look in response as leah kissed her cheek apologetically and wrapped you in a hug.

"you're so much prettier when you don't talk." you teased, squeezing her face in your hand with a wink as leah pulled a face and blew a raspberry on your cheek.

"less!" you laughed, turning around a few seconds later and already finding the striker with a mouthful of brownie, crumbs down the front of her hoodie and a blissed out look on her face.

"what? i was promised these!" she defended still with a mouthful of food making you wince and push her lightly. "yes you were babe and you more than earned them." you chuckled, leah reaching around you to take one for herself.

"babe there's no way these are vegan!" the milton keynes local scoffed after a mere sniff causing your eyes to roll as she took a cautious bite. "are too." you gestured your arms around to the plethora of substitutes piled around the kitchen as leah hummed skeptically.

"just tell her she did a good job, shut up, and stuff your face with chocolate leah." alessia defended, hugging you from behind as you smiled gratefully and kissed her jaw, pushing away from her as she shoved the other half of the baked good into her mouth and sent crumbs showering down on you.

"well i need a quick shower but ice creams in the freezer-" you kissed alessia's cheek since her lips were preoccupied making out with a brownie.

"-whipped creams in the fridge." you pecked leahs lips knowingly. "oi!" the defender grabbed at you as your hand collected with her ass with a wink, escaping to the bathroom for a shower and leaving them to their brownies.

which may have been a mistake.

when you returned it was to a welcomingly quiet living room, both of your blondes laid on the lounge watching a film, which judging by the bored look on leahs face and the concentrated one on alessia's, the film had been the strikers choice.

offering them both a cup of tea which was met with a resoundingly quick yes from each you disapeared to the kitchen, not hearing leah get up to follow you much to alessia's grumpy protests at being left alone.

"you know babe i noticed something very interesting about your brownies." leah hummed causing you to jump a little not having thought anyone was with you, flicking the kettle on to boil and raising an eyebrow at her questioningly.

"well you know i love a good jigsaw, yeah?" leah questioned, grabbing the plate of brownies which was remarkably untouched given alessia's desire to inhale the lot of them just moments before you ducked off for a shower.

"but with a jigsaw, all the pieces...have to match up." leah nodded down as your eyes dropped, leah having lined up the brownies which sure enough weren't even close to matching up together the way they would if you'd baked them in the tray you'd claimed to.

"well thats because-" "oh no no my girl, i wasn't asking." leah interrupted with a shake of her head and a finger pressed to your lips. "i know you didn't bake those, and they sure as shit aren't vegan." leah smirked knowingly, pulling your body closer into hers as she leaned down, lips ghosting your own as right as you tried to kiss her she pulled away, smirk growing wider as her hands slipped up your hoodie.

"the only question i want the answer to is, how are you going to make it up to us for lying baby?"

#alessia russo x reader #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson #alessia russo #alessia russo imagine #leah williamson imagine #woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso community #woso #woso imagine #woso blurbs

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jinx-blackout-84 · 2 days ago

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One day things will be different, maybe even better, and you'll hear another old song and feel a nostalgia so thick it makes you dizzy, and your entire world will turn the color of late nights with your friends and all the loves you used to hold close to your chest like baby birds and you've now let go. Moving forward will find you more of those, and sometimes missing someone so much you get bone nausea is how you love them, sometimes it's not simple, good and bad, sometimes the color of your childhood walls will dance behind your eyes and your old perfume from middle school will break your skull open into shattered stained glass and everything, for a moment, is being a kid again. Sometimes sitting at the swingset alone doesn't hurt anymore, sometimes you miss how the wind weaved around you and how you swam in the thunderstorm heavy air, and you'll be sitting in your living room, surrounded by new friends and new love and an entirely different life, and all you want for a moment is to be back in the tree you used to climb to cry, or the corner of your bathroom where you sobbed over getting older. There are parts of you that you have to hold close to you at midnight because nobody else can, and until I can fall in love with my past, it will always, always hold back my now. Make yourself a cup of tea and bask in your shitty apartment because there will be a day where the creaks in the floor sound like old friends. Human life cannot be classified as positive or negative, not when there is so much love to be had, even in times you could never imagine you would be fond of.

btw you will miss this in 5 or 10 years. memory will smooth these circumstances down like a river stone, and you will find yourself longing for a shade of light or a moment of this particular innocence. you don't know about what happens next, and one day that will be the most alluring thing of all. don't leave it all for nostalgia. have a nice night now, whatever night it happens to be.

#Anyways yeah op #Very cool way of saying that #Very Very cool #“You will find yourself longing for a shade of light” shattered me

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justaaveragereader · 2 days ago

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Pay Attention

Pairing: Yunho x Reader + Mingi

Word Count: 1.6K

Warnings: Spit Roasting, Choking, Cuckholding, Mingi Watches Reader Get Fucked, Spit, Raw Sex (Wrap It Upppp People!), Slapping, Name Calling (Pretty Girl, Cute Thing), Deep Throating, Yunhos Dirty Talk/Praise Almost Sounds Like It’s Degrading, Praise, Manhandling, Rough Sex, If I Missed Anything…Lemme Know👀👀!

A/N: I swear the brain rot I have bc of that photo of Yunho and Mingi should be criminal! Can you imagine being on both the giving and receiving end of them lmaoooIWantThemBadlylmaoooo. Good news, I’m trying to get back into the swing of writing, I haven’t felt much motivation bc I’ve had so much shit going on but slowlyyyy it’s coming back to me, and things are starting to slow down in my life which means more time for writing! Tbh sometimes it’s easier to do quick little fics like this, but I LOVE writing a good 5k+ fic😔! I got some WIPs in store and I can’t wait to share them! So onto the fic we go!

Masterlist

All Ageless, Blank, and Bot Looking Blogs Will Be Blocked.

Roughly grabbing his collar Yunho pulls Mingi closer. Halting his hips that are pushed flush against the plump flesh that is your ass. A loud whimper leaves your mouth that is currently filled with Yunhos cock. The vibration around his member makes Yunho hunch forward a bit more, cock sliding further down your already stuffed throat.

“You aren’t thrusting hard enough.” Yunho grits out, fist full of Mingis collar. His black leather jacket long gone on the floor, his turtleneck is practically glued to his skin from the sweat due to the hot small room they are in. Yunhos warm breath fans out across Mingis face, reddened cheeks, black slacks around his muscular thighs. His head cocks back letting out a loud whine. Gripping harder, Yunho jerks Mingi back slightly making his head roll forward.

Mouth pooling with saliva that drops and hits the couch cushions underneath your body, skirt hiked up past your hips, panties sticking out of Yunhos pocket. Your nose brushing against his soft skin, inhaling his scent, and drinking the precum that slides down your throat as you wait for him to finish instructing Mingi.

“You gotta fuck her hard, good girls like her don’t get satisfaction unless you drill it into their skulls.” He says while letting go of Mingis collar slightly shoving him back. Hand traveling down the side of your face, swiping a firm thumb against your bottom lip that has a thick string of saliva spilling from it. The same thumb that lowers and clutches your aching chin. Your eyes flutter up to meet his, dark eyes soaking in your form. From this angle he looked like a God, shirt off but he kept his black jacket on, black hair tousled from how long they had been at this.

“Isn’t that right baby?” He says through a whisper, his lips twitch at the end of his sentence. He swore this was supposed to be a lesson for you, yet this felt like a lesson for you both. His hand comes up to grab your head, his large hand engulfing the top of it, before slamming you down even further on his length. Saliva hitting his toned bare thighs, the sudden movements has you choking slightly, cunt clenching on Mingis pulsing cock. With a stutter of his hips, he grips your hips, letting out a loud whine.

“I c-can’t Yun-Yunho.” Mingi whines out, tears filling his water line. His toes clenching, eyes squeezing shut trying his best not to explode into your warm, wet cunt. Trying not to bust was a job all in itself. Hunching himself over your body, cock digging even further down your throat, choking on inch after inch. You try your best to breathe through your nose, the soft hair on his groin begins to comfort your nose, inhaling his scent with each second that goes by.

“Go sit down.” Yunho says, voice thick with demand. His eyes cut at Mingi who is hell bent on trying his best not to disappoint the man in front of him, his best friend. Pulling out of your wet cunt with a wet squelch he lets out a breath of relief, his reddened cock bobbing at the cool air hitting it. Plopping himself down across from you and Yunho, his long limbs hang tiredly all over the chair. Pulling out of your mouth, he steps back, making his back to your backside. With each wet cough you hack, your eyes water with the feeling of fresh air filling your lungs.

“Eyes on us.” Yunho says, shifting your body slightly, hands running over your soft skin, thumb tracing the deep curve of your back. His eyes darted up to Mingi, whose pants are still wrapped around his thighs, cock practically begging for relief. Those soft traces Yunho was giving you are now dead, his hands roughly grab your skin, grabbing handfuls of whatever he can grab before tapping his cock against your wet entrance. Cunt practically screaming for relief, with one smooth slide he enters your pussy, the difference in his girth knocks the wind out of you, your head falling face first into the cushions til you feel a hand wrap around your throat, tugging you up, backside firm against his chest. Your eyes immediately fill with tears, the new position change has you seeing stars. As long as you’ve been with Mingi, never have you felt a feeling like this in your lower belly. His hand that is gripping on your throat helps hold your head up. Right in your line of vision is Mingi, who looks just as helpless as you. Drawing his hips back, the tip of his cock barely at the entrance of your cunt, he slams up into you, your body lurching forward.

His cock leaves a bulge in your lower belly with each strike up of his hips, your mouth falls open, no noises leave your throat. You can't help but shut your eyes, soaking in the pleasure Yunho is giving you, Mingi is a soft lover, you are normally the one giving pleasure, not that he doesn’t return the favor but Yunho he's a hard lover, a firm one. The drastic difference between the two was like a splash of water on your face. You don’t expect it yet when it was over the cool feeling was refreshing.

“Look at him.” Yunho says, voice layered with many emotions. Dominance is the one that outweighs each one. The slight growl that hangs on the edge of each word he makes sure to punctuate as he’s deep in your cunt. Your juices soak him, his thighs, the fabric of his pants hugging his skin. You are enjoying the way he’s manhandling you, the way Mingi helplessly watches you get rag dolled around by his best friend. His eyes grow darker with each gasp you let out, head firmly against his chest as he’s slamming into you, the wet sopping noise in the small room leaves very little to the imagination as to what is going on inside. His hand tightens on your throat as you begin to babble out his name in tiny, desperate whimpers. Your hand coming up to clutch his own. You need anything to anchor you as you begin to feel that heat boiling in your lower stomach. With each deep slam of his hips, your body hiking up against his moist chest, he smiles at Mingi who is gawking at the sight in front of him.

“This is how you fuck a pretty girl, Mingi. Got a cute one and don’t even know how to fuck her correctly.” He says through a smile, eating up the sight in front of him. Your fucked out face, Mingis wide eyes and twitching cock, the wet sound of slapping skin. This was his personal heaven. The hand that was wrapped around your throat moves up to squish your cheeks, body flushed with heat, drool dripping from your swollen lips.

“Go on baby, tell Mingi this is how you wanna be fucked.” Yunho whispers loudly in your ear. A loud whine leaves your throat, eyes fluttering with the way his voice dances in your ear. Cunt clenching onto his member that’s pistoning in and out of you. With a obnoxiously loud gulp you attempt to tell Mingi just how you wanna be fucked.

“I-I wanna b-be fu-fuc-.” His hand tightens on your face, your cheeks squishing tighter together cutting your sentence short. Lips puckering together, with a stream of drool dripping down onto your chest.

“Fuck..” Mingi whispers out, clearly turned on by seeing his girl be rag dolled around by a man who wasn’t him.

“She’s a cute thing.” Yunho says through a chuckle, slowing down his thrusting to go slow and deep. The feeling of his cock bullying its way into your lower belly has you almost doubling over in the sudden feeling. Your body is attempting to hunch forward if it wasn’t for his strong grip on you.

“Ah, Ah, Ah, where do you think you're going?” Yunho whispers into your ear, licking the shell of it before nipping at the lobe. Pausing his thrusts he moves you to the side, so Mingi had a side view of just how he’s fucking you. Chest flushed against the soft cushions, your sweaty face pushed against the soft fabric. With a firm hand Yunho places his hand between your shoulder blades keeping you firmly in place.

“Does she run from your cock to Mingi? Or are you being extra special for me today baby?” he questions through a whisper, hand getting more firm by the second. You can feel his cock pulsing in your walls, you are just mere steps away from an orgasm.

“When you got a pretty thing like her.” Yunho says while grabbing your right ass cheek firmly, spreading them apart to spit on your stuffed pussy. That action alone has you so close to coming undone on him. With a loud whimper Mingis eyes glue to where Yunho’s cock meets your cunt, pussy just dripping with arousal.

“You have to remind her of her place.” Yunho says while firmly planting his foot on the couch, with one foot remaining on the floor.

“Because if you don’t, how will pretty girls like her ever be rewarded?” Yunho says in a low tone, a tone you’ve never heard, as his grip never wavers from your shoulder blades you make eye contact with Mingi whose cock is twitching at the sight in front of him.

“Eyes on me Mingi. I’m about to teach you how to fuck your girlfriend.”

DO NOT REPOST.

#ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez smut #ateez imagines #jeong yunho smut #song mingi smut #jeong yunho x reader #song mingi x reader #yunho x reader #mingi x reader #dom!yunho smut #dom! ateez smut #ateez scenarios #ateez hard thoughts #ateez x you

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wwooyology · 23 hours ago

Text

Birthday Blues | S.JY

「pairing」 : bf!jake x fem!reader 「word count」 : 2.2k

「synopsis」 : your birthday was supposed to be a happy day. go have brunch with your friends before coming home and spending the rest of the evening with your loving boyfriend. however, the people you thought were your friends made you feel like complete and utter shit. upon your early arrival, jake knew something was wrong, and he was going to do his best to cheer you up and bring a smile back to your face.

「genre」 : smut, slight angst, fluff, comfort

「warnings」 : MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!!, cussing, kissing, unprotected sex, clit play, fingering, crying, petnames (pretty baby, baby, babygirl, sweetheart, my love...), teasing, soft dom!jake x sub!reader, jake is just a overall sweetheart, biting/marking, soft sex, pantie ripping, oral (f. receiving), creampie, slight breast play, tooth-rotting fluff at the end, lmk if I missed anything!!

「notes」 : this is a request from this anon here, and I decided to just finish this fic and post it for everyone as my final farewell to the enhablr community (at least the writing part of it) after this I probably won't ever write another full fic for any of the members 😞 but even if this isn't the best I hope you all enjoy this full-length jake fic, especially you nonnie!! mwah 🫶

You had willed yourself to not cry, not wanting to waste any tears on people who didn't deserve them. Though you couldn't help the tightening feeling in your chest as you stepped closer and closer to your apartment door.

It was your birthday. You were supposed to be out celebrating with your friends. You even went as far as getting all dolled up, wearing the new sundress that Jake had bought for you. Just to be completely and utterly humiliated by the people who were supposed to be your friends.

Sniffling, you dug your keys out of your purse before unlocking the door. Pushing the door open, you were met with the soft sound of music playing in the kitchen, telling you that Jake was home. Sighing, you shut the door behind you and slip out of your shoes. You didn't have the energy to put on a fake face, not that it'll work with Jake anyway.

Hearing the door close, Jake stood straight, looking over his shoulder; you weren't supposed to be home for another hour or so. Dusting his hands off on his jeans, he turned and made his way towards the entrance hall, a silly smile playing on his lips. However, as soon as he caught sight of your distraught expression, his smile dropped.

“Baby, what's wrong?” His tone was dripping with concern as he made his way to you, taking your arm in his hand.

Swallowing thickly, you looked up at him, tears brimming on your waterline. “I don't wanna talk about it. I'm just gonna go change.” You spoke in a low tone, scared that you'd cry if you spoke any higher.

Jake, however, didn't let go, keeping you rooted in your spot.

“We don't have to talk about it, but don't change, you look beautiful.” He pouted, the sight making your heart squeeze, and he knew damn well that you'd give in to him.

You sigh, “Okay. What were you doing in the kitchen?”

A bright smile then spreads on the male's lips, and he grabs your hand, pulling you into the other room. As soon as you walked through the threshold, your eyes went wide.

The room smelled like vanilla, the lights were dim, and there was a small birthday cake at the center of the dining table.

Jake pulled you over to the table so you could see. Your heart flips in your chest as you look over the decorations.

“Jakey, baby, you didn't have to do all of this.” You go to turn and look at him, but he stops you when his arms snake around your waist, pulling you into his chest.

He hums, planting soft kisses on your exposed neck, “You deserve it, baby, all of it.”

You sigh, head falling to the side to give him more access to your skin. His hands started to roam your body, his left coming up to cup your breast, squeezing softly.

“Jake.” You breathe out, your body starts to grow warm, and his kisses start turning into hot, open-mouthed kisses.

“Shh baby, let me take care of you. I'll make you feel better, I promise.” He whispered against your skin as his right hand moved down to the hem of your dress.

You completely melted in his hold, letting him do as he pleases, your hands gripping his shirt from behind you.

His plump lips glided over your skin, biting down every so often to hear the soft whines that would fall from your lips. His right hand slips under your dress, finding your clothes core.

“My pretty baby is having such a bad day.” His hand cups your heat, eliciting a breathy moan from your parted lips, “But it's okay, Jakey is gonna make her feel real good.”

He presses against your clit loving the way your body starts to tremble from such a small action. Pulling your panties to the side, he runs his fingers through your folds, feeling how wet you had gotten from just a few kisses. As much as he wanted to tease you for it he went with his better judgment and kept his mouth shut.

“You're soaked, baby,” Jake's voice dropped an octave as he found your clit once more, pressing slow circles on the bundle.

“Jake.” You whine, clearly wanting him to go faster, but he doesn't. Instead, he pulls his hand away.

You opened your mouth to say something but were silenced when he turned your body around, grabbing the backs of your thighs and propping you up on the dining table.

A gasp fell from your lips but was quickly swallowed by Jake's. His hands tugged at your dress until it was a pool on the ground.

“God, you're so fucking beautiful.” He groans as he takes in the new skin shown to him, tracing every inch of your body as if he hasn't seen it countless times before.

Despite that fact, you still found yourself growing shy under his watchful gaze; heat crept up your neck before painting your cheeks a cherry red.

“Lay back for me, baby.” He pecked your lips once more, laying your body flat on the table.

“Jake.” You breathed out when his lips latched into your nipple and flicked the bud with his tongue while his free hand trailed down to your panties, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake.

Your hips bucked into his palm as he pressed down on your clit once more, a sweet moan falling from your lips. Your fingers move from the nape of his neck to thread them through his deep brown stands, pulling softly.

“J-Jake.” You huffed out, eyes rolling slightly when he prodded at your entrance. “Jakey, please.” Tears started to well up in your eyes before falling.

Jake coos softly, peppering your face with kisses as he slips his fingers into your warm heat. Your eyes rolled back as his skillful fingers easily found your sweet stop, pressing right against it.

“There's no need to beg, baby, I'll give you what you want.” He mused, pressing his lips against yours, stealing the air from your lungs, and his fingers picked up their pace, stars dancing across your vision. All of the tension and sadness from earlier slowly dispelled with every stroke of his fingers.

Soft moans fell from your parted lips as he continued his leisurely pace, his mouth preoccupied with your chest. Deep red marks littered your skin as his lips trailed down the valley of your breast, down your navel, before finally coming face-to-face with your weeping cunt. Without so much as a second thought, he buried his face between your thighs, inhaling your scent as his nose bumped against your aching clit. A shocked gasp tore through your throat, your hand flying down to his head as he licked a stripe up your pussy, starting from where his fingers were still working into you before stopping to wrap his lips around your clit, sucking gently.

The softness of his movements was sending your mind reeling. He was always so eager to get you to cum. Even more so if it was on his tongue. However, seeing him now, all he cared about was your pleasure and helping you relax.

His eyes caught yours from your tense tummy, love, and adoration gleaming in his warm chocolate orbs. The love and tenderness that was seeping from him brought tears to your eyes. Noticing the glassy look in your eyes, he removed his mouth from your clit and crawled back over your body.

“What’s wrong, baby?” His voice was soft as he pulled his fingers out, leaving you empty. The feeling caused you to whine softly, but you swallowed it down as Jake leaned down. He captured your lips in a gentle kiss, relishing in your taste, your eyes fluttering shut as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“I need you, Jakey. So bad.” You murmured against his lips when he started to pull away, and Jake could feel his pants grow even tighter at the desperation in your tone. His fingers danced across your skin as he looked down at you, slotting his body fully against yours.

“Hmm, how do you need me babygirl?” His tone was nothing short of teasing as he continued to pepper kisses all over your face, down to your chest.

Your fingers curled into the material of his shirt, tugging roughly when he nipped at your collarbone. “I need you in me, Jake. To fuck me, please!” You cried out, the tears that had built up on your waterline finally spilling over.

“Such a dirty girl,” He cooed, lips detaching from your skin to take in your messy appearance, Mascara was already running under your eyes from all the crying you’d done, and your once glossed lips had the pink tint smeared all over your chin. It wouldn’t be a surprise if Jake had some on his chin as well. “But I did promise to take care of my needy baby.”

He wasted no time in discarding his clothes and quite literally tearing the thin fabric of your underwear away from your body. After there were no barriers left between the both of you, Jake moved forward, pressing your thighs further apart. Jake pulled small whimpers from your swollen lips as he teased your clit with his tip, relishing in the way that your body trembled in his hold.

“J-Jake.” You looked up at him with a pleading gaze, “You said I wouldn’t have to beg,” The pout that formed on your lips had his cock twitching in his hand, a small groan falling from his lips.

“I did, didn’t I?” He chuckled, trailing his tip down to your slit but not quite pushing in yet, “Okay, I’ll give my needy girl what she wants. All she needs is Jakey's cock to make her feel better, hmm?” Then, with a final hum, he pushed into your tight hole, and your back arched from the sudden intrusion.

“Fuck! Yes, just need Jakey’s cock!” You cried out in pure ecstasy as he slowly rutted his hips into yours, watching your body twitch with his bottom lip caught between his teeth.

Before too long, his slow pace grew steadily until he had your legs dangling over his shoulders as he bullied his thick cock into your twitching cunt. The room filled with the sounds of skin slapping and a mixture of your broken moans and Jake’s low whimpers as he neared his release.

“Fuck baby, I’m so close.” His voice was borderlining a whine, his fingers tightening around the plush of your thighs, nails leaving crescent shapes behind. “I need you to cum for me, sweetheart, please.” The pleading tone in his voice had your pussy tightening around his length, the coil in your stomach tightening crazily.

“Jakey!” You cried as when the rough pad of his thumb met with your aching clit, rubbing tight circles over the small bundle of nerves. Tears blurred your vision when you finally felt that coil snap, your release gushing all over Jake’s length.

The intensity of your orgasm sends Jake over the edge, his face burying itself in the crook of your neck as he damn near folds your body in half. He released hot spurts of his thick cum inside of your fluttering walls. His warm breath fanny the sweaty skin of your neck, making you shiver.

Neither of you said a word as you both came back down from your highs, bodies still entangled on the dining table. Jake was the first to speak, his lips ghosting over your jaw as he lowered your quivering legs so they could relax.

“How was that present? The best yet, if I do say so myself.” He gave you a lopsided smile as he pulled out of your spent cunt before helping you sit up. Heat flushed your face as you smacked his chest.

“You’re something else, Jake.” You shook your head, but a wide grin still spread across your lips, and Jake looked at you with an endearing gaze. His intense eyes caused you to suddenly feel shy, cheeks turning a rosy red, “Why are you staring at me like that?”

“That’s the first time I’ve seen you smile since you got home.” He mentioned that you felt a guilt start to settle in the pit of your stomach. However, Jake was quick to grab your attention once more, “Forget about them, my love; if they’re making you feel like shit, then they don’t deserve to be your friends.”

Tears involuntarily filled your eyes as you looked up at him. Your bottom lips quivered as you fought back the urge to cry once more. Jake hushed you as he wrapped his arms around your smaller frame, whispering sweet nothings in your ear.

Your arms wrapped around his midsection as you soaked in his warmth, a few stray tears sliding down your cheeks. If there was one thing in the world that you were most grateful for, it would be your boyfriend. He always, always went above and beyond to make sure you were happy and cared for.

Smiling softly, you nuzzled into his chest. This was where you belonged because even if no one else would have your back, Jake would without fail. It was truly a blessing to have met him, and you’d be damned if you were ever going to let go.

He was home.

@wwooyology | Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or repost any of my work

𝖉𝖎𝖘𝖈𝖑𝖆𝖎𝖒𝖊𝖗 : ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ɴᴏ ᴡᴀʏ ᴀ ᴛʀᴜᴇ ʀᴇᴘʀᴇꜱᴇɴᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴘᴜʀᴇʟʏ ꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴛᴀᴋᴇɴ ꜱᴇʀɪᴏᴜꜱʟʏ.

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no-144444 · 16 hours ago

Note

Hihihiii could I request something sweet with Oscar, where the reader is the daughter of Andrea Stella and also an engineering intern for McLaren?

guilty- o.piastri

summary: oscar gets a bit worried about you when you start overworking yourself

pairing: oscar piastri x fem! stella! reader

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“You need to stop working yourself so hard,” Oscar sighed as he pressed a soft kiss to the back of your neck. It had been your one day off, and you’d spent it working, again.

“I’m fine,” you yawned. “I just have to get the car perfect.”

“You’re the reason the car was so good last year, baby, the car is perfect,” he smoothed a hand down your back as he sat beside you. “You need to take a break. How about we go for a date night?”

You bit your lip. “My dad-”

Oscar groaned. Andrea Stella. Your father. He had been… vocal about his expectations and while that was usually a good thing, it had recently sent you into a spiral. You worked all the time, barely coming to bed at night. Oscar had to physically drag you away. “Please baby, I feel like I haven’t seen you.”

The guilt grew in your stomach. You had been neglecting Oscar recently. It’s not like you meant to, it just… happened. You’d gotten used to the silence of an empty apartment over the course of the season and to combat it, you’d work. But Oscar was back now. He was back from Australia, and he was back to you, and you weren’t even taking advantage of the fact that you had your boyfriend to yourself for an entire month before he had to go back to training. You smiled. “I’d like that.”

And off you two went.

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ

He’d decided that a film would be the best course of action, mostly for the fact that you couldn’t check your phone in the darkness of the movie theatre. You two sat hand in hand, enjoying whatever random film Oscar had picked, sharing some popcorn as the minutes ticked by. Honestly, you loved the cinema. You adored just shutting your brain off for 2 hours and just getting to hold Oscar’s hand as you followed along a story. He loved it too. He loved watching you relax.

When you guys came out of the screen, he decided it was high time you two went out and got some food (considering you hadn’t eaten all day), so he pre ordered your favourite food from your favourite restaurant and picked it up on your way home. You two ate in the comfortable silence you’d enjoyed all night, and then started getting ready for bed.

You stood in the bathroom washing your face, as Oscar came up behind you and wrapped his arms around you.

“Love you,” he mumbled into your neck.

You smiled. “Love you too.”

“I’m glad we got to spend some time together today,” he whispered.

“Me too. I miss you so much Osc,” you sighed, turning around and wrapping your arms around his neck.

“You have to take better care of yourself,” he whispered. “I’m worried about you.”

You nodded. “I know I should, I just get so… nervous. I don’t want to disappoint my dad, or you, or-”

“You couldn’t disappoint me if you tried,” he placed a hand on your cheek. “If the car isn’t where I want it to be, it just isn’t where I want it to be. That’s fine. That’s just how it is sometimes. Never in a million years would I ever be disappointed in you.”

You felt yourself tear up. You knew all of this, of course, but hearing him say it out loud, hearing him tell you it, felt amazing. You were always so nervous to show him or your dad your designs, even when you knew they’d make the car faster, you were always just scared of disappointing them. “Thank you,” you whispered, resting your head on his chest. “That means a lot.”

He smiled. “Let’s get you to bed, yeah?”

You nodded and followed him as he led you into your shared bedroom.

“I love you,” he whispered before turning out his light and wrapping you up in his arms.

“I love you too.”

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

mclaren masterlist

navigation for my blog :)

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choccy-milky · 1 day ago

Note

I dont know why I had this vision of clora riding a scooter, like a cute light blue one with italy vibes, like a vespa, and sebastian panicking behind her LMAO

I SEE THE VISION AS WELL...idk how shes on a vespa tho since they werent invented yet so lets just assume theres time-turner shenanigans going on LMAO

but also anon this request was so funny to me because the SAME day you sent me it, i also got this one on twitter:

TRULY THE DUALITY OF MAN IS AT PLAY HERE!!! LMAOO debauchery vs wholesomeness...and it made me laugh so much

(and for anyone curious yes i WILL also be honouring the other request......eventually👀)

@jstfndmthngs splitting your ask into 2 again bc its a CHONKER but I LOVED READING IT🥹🥹 "how much they love each other to the abnormal level that i envy" LMAOO THATS FANFICTION FOR YOU, BABY!!😍 also YESS interacting with my readers in the comments was my fav parts of writing a lot of the time, and im SOOO grateful to the ppl who commented bc without them the story would have turned out DRASTICALLY DIFFERENT. like, i know there are some people who write the entirety of their fanfic and then upload it in chunks, but if i had done that/written my story in a vacuum and hadnt incorporated any of my readers ideas/suggestions it would have been SOOOO much worse honestly LMAO. like, not even necessarily putting their requests or ideas in my fic, but even sometimes just reading a comment that would say something like "i cant wait to see how clora/seb reacts to..." would make me think...oh. i was never planning on even showing their reaction to that. but now that they say that, good point, i definitely need to include that LOL. so yeah even just little stuff like that was SUPER important to my writing process and my story and helped me keep in mind what people wanted to see/things i may have missed or glossed over if i'd been writing by myself, but i also just loved getting comments in general bc i loved reading them and they were so motivating🥹 BUT THANK U SO MUCH IM GLAD U LIKED MY STORY/SEB & CLORA SO MUCH, AND TY FOR SHARING ALL YOUR THOUGHTS WITH ME!!🥹💖💖 im lowkey the same way... i cant read any other fics rn bc im still too attached to seb/clora BAHAHA so i still need to give it some time before i delve into other HL fics (i even downloaded a program that will let me replace names so that i can replace the mc's name with clora's LMFAOOOO THATS HOW MENTALLY ILL I AM ABOUT THEM!!😭😭DONT COME FOR ME🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️🚓)

omg...i already love unlocking kinks in people but for it to be specifically seb x clora is even more of an honour BAHAHA omg i love that....but i get it too. clora is submissive and breedable af😍LMAOO (im sorry💀that wasnt me just now that was seb blame him)

@acrenna MERRY LATE CHRISTMAS AND ALSO LATE HAPPY NEW YEAR!!! this is so sweet THANK YOU SO MUCH😭😭im happy my story was able to get you out of your reading slump!! (and hopefully will continue to, with my oneshot im slowly but surely working on😩) BUT THANK YOU AGAIN I APPRECIATE YOU SM🥹🥹💖

@misskkfritz you actually arent the first to say this and i also saw a pinterest comment on my art say this........FELLAS DO I NEED TO WATCH GILMORE GIRLS NOW🤔🤔🤔

#ask #i always wanted a vespa because of zoey 101 DOES ANYONE REMEMBER THOSE THINGS THEY RODE i was so jealous LMFAO #also i think all fanfic writers should be able to give themselves amnesia at least once so we can read our fics and enjoy them as a reader #bc they are literally MADE for us and have all the stuff we like in them #EVERYBODY GETS ONE(1)#vote me in as president. as your first canadian president this will be my first decree. we'll figure it out

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okwonyo · 11 hours ago

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PEARLS&DIAMONDS ✶ RICHBOYS ( 日语 )

𝖠𝖫𝖳 ㅤ𓈒 𝗍𝗋𝗒𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝗂𝗆𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗀𝗂𝗋𝗅 𝗐𝗁𝗈 𝖺𝗅𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝗒 𝗀𝗈𝗍 𝗂𝗍 𝖺𝗅𝗅.

【 BANK 】 3OOO ─── enhypen x fem!rea ♥︎ fluff non idol au ⸝⸝ skinship flirting reader is a meanie 「 … 」 req’ ！

じや please support this guys TT it was so challenging to write ! i never wrote so much for a reaction >< enjoy 🎀

rbs ⟡ comments please + daily

LEE HEESEUNG 又は ─── THE MILLION DOLLAR BABY

“hey, princess!” you hear as you walk in the streets. the voice is loud and reaches you white well, given the fact that it is almost midnight. it is not like you were at a party, no— you were, contrary to popular belief. working

you don’t stop your parade, you would rather die. “c’mon, baby,” he says again, his car following you while you walk, “don’t act like you didn’t see me!”

still not stopping, you turn your head towards him. “you know, it can be qualified as harassment,” he dramatically gasps. you huff, “what do you want, heeseung.”

the man grins, “you told me you didn’t have a car last night,” he tells you. it is true, you told him that. you still don’t know how it correlates with the current situation. “so i bought one for you.”

you stop in your track when his last words reach your brain. the car mirrors your mouvement.

it is clean and spacious. the burgandy shines under the moonlight. the aston martin logo on the front is simple yet could leave anyone breathless.

“a vintage 007,” you hum as he comes stand next to you. you cross your arms under your chest, meeting his eyes, “good choice.”

“you know what car it is?” he groans, and you roll your eyes while you hit his chest. he smiles and bites his lip before adding, “you keep getting more perfect, baby.”

you smile at the compliment but you don’t thank him. you admit it is a beautiful car, beyond it even. and the fact that he bought it for you is lovely.

however, you leave again. heeseung follows you immediately, “where are you going?” he calls behind you.

“home,” you can feel it stop walking when you tell him that, you imagine the shock on his face then the rising confusion. he quickly reaches you after a while— grabbing your arm to turn you around when you are already where you wanted to be.

“princess,” he murmurs, holding both of your upper arms gently.“you know i won’t let you walk home alone.” he drags his eyes on your form, staring at your thighs revealed by your dress, “let me take you home.”

you smile at his words, “nice offer,” you remark. “i told you i didn’t have a car,” you continue, slowly getting out of his grip. your eyes slide from his to the big car next to the both of you, “because, i got a chauffeur.”

his mouth falls open. a man in a neat suit gets out of the car and opens the door for you. heeseung stays still, even after you get in and the door shuts. he watches the widow roll down to show your beautiful face. god, you are perfect.

“and my dad already has a vintage 007,” you smile before sending him a flying kiss.

𝖬𝖮𝖭𝖤𝖸𝖬𝖮𝖭𝖤𝖸𝖬𝖮𝖭𝖤𝖸

PARK JAY 又は ─── THE CEO’S SON

turning your head to you room’s door, you smile at your maid as she enters you space. she holds a bouquet of flowers in her hand. “for you, miss.” she announces as she hands it to you.

you can’t help the fond sound that leaves your mouth when you admire the adorable flowers, “thank you so much!” you tell her and she laughs. “what is this for?”

the lady shakes her head, all soft and nice, like always, “no, no, it isn’t from me,” she admits and you whisper a soft ‘oh’ before examining the flowers—you don’t know if you are hallucinating them—and finding a card in them. “it’s from you friend,” she continues while you read. it’s written in beautiful calligraphy, from—“park jongseong.”

you sigh, of course it comes from him.

as soon as his name is mentioned, your phone starts to ring on your night table. your maid sends you an apologetic yet amused glance before giving your phone to you— you playfully roll your eyes at her before answering the call.

“saffron crocus,” you smile without being able to control your face. “i knew no one in their right mind would give the annoying kid they should take care of those.”

the woman still in the room wants to protest but you wink at her, a sign to tell her that you are joking.

“and you haven’t seen your backyard yet,” jay laughs from the other side. you get up from your chair and goes to your balcony, you nice maid opens it for you before you can even ask her.

the sight is beautiful, a thousand, or more, of roses everywhere. put in beautiful bouquets held by hundred different people. this plus the bunch of luxurious flowers he gave you—three thousand each— leave you speechless. not because of the price, but because of the effort.

your smile gets wider, but you can’t let him know it. although he can hear it through the phone as you whisper, “how much do i own you?” you question the man in lieu of thanking him.

“nothing,” he immediately argued. “nothing but your precious time, sweets.” your stomach does a flip. “how about a date tomorrow?”

you hum, looking at the flowers you hold in your free arm before looking at the roses under your balcony. “i’ll consider,” you declare and you can practically see his victorious grin. “maybe try gold of kinabalu next.”

“anything you want, sweets,” and you hang up.

SIM JAKE 又は ─── THE SPOILED ROTTEN FLIRT

the sound of your name echoes all the way to you while you walk towards the stairs. “there is a visitor for you!” the housekeeper exclaims. you frown, wondering who would even visit you here.

nonetheless, you change your usual trajectory to go to the door, when you arrive, you see your housekeeper standing in front of someone you cannot recognize just yet.

“who is it? i don’t know anyone—” the so called visitor is revealed before you get the chance to finish your sentence. the end of it dies in your throat as soon as your eyes meet, you halt in your movements.

“you haven’t replied to my calls,” jake accuses instead of a proper greeting. “and i’ve been craving your attention.”

you go to him, “so what? you decided to come all the way to greece? just to bother me?”

the brunette shrugs, looking down at you and your pink robe. you study him back, him and his posture— hands in his pockets, well dressed, straight back.

the situation seems to amuse him, he bites his lower lip as he always does before leaning towards you and swearing, “i missed you,”

you ignore the rising heat in your body and grimace before turning around and leaving. you speed to the stair and he insists loudly behind you, “you sent all the gifts i gave you back, what was i supposed to do?”

you are not nice enough to give him an answer, and you know he is going to follow you whether you say anything back or not.

“i literally came from korea just because i wanted to see you,” he whines as he follows you close, climbing the stairs like he is obligated to. “you can’t act like im not here.”

you don’t stop or turn around or even give him a quick glance. “nobody asked you to do that,” you huff, almost at the end of the almost-impossible-to-finish stairs.

“i didn’t ask for your flowers, nor your designer bags nor your luxury pieces of clothes nor your jewelries,” you list, almost arriving at your rooms door and you turn around abruptly. he halts immediately and your are so close that he blushes a little. “i don’t need any of these, i can buy my own.”

“darling, trust me, i know,” he responds with a smile. “i just wanted to spoil you a little bit.”

you put an hand on your door’s handle, “right, i’m sure there are plenty of girls that you want that would love to be spoiled.”

jake’s jaw goes slack— but not in a way that is utterly shocked by the accusation but shocked of you showing something. jealousy. you mentally slaps yourself, closing your eyes.

he leans against the wall next to him, “don’t be like that,” he grins, voice low and soft. “i only want you, you know it.”

there is a silence that sets itself between the two of you. if you could, you would wipe his growing smirk of his face. but you can’t.

you get inside your room and he follows you. you kick him out one minute after.

PARK SUNGHOON 又は ─── THE IT BOY

“this event is boring,” whispered the man as soon as he sits down. his lips dangerously close to your neck, you fight the urge to roll your eyes. “leave with me tonight.”

you turn your head to his direction slightly. his smirk is evident from your peripheral vision, “and why would i do that?”

he doesn’t respond right away and during the time he looks for an answer, your eyes wander on the view in front of you.

it is a beautiful event, you admit. the decorations are elegant and shiny, everyone is dressed in luxury dresses and suits, they dance and they eat.

however, you do admit that you went to funnier ones— you don’t know anyone and the part you were hosting is over. well, there is always sunghoon.

“this event is boring,” he repeats. he is right, you don’t tell him that though. but you do sigh. “and, if you leave with me, i’ll take you to my house.”

you admit that he is quite bold. his relaxed demeanor and the way he says this sort of things so naturally always leaves you speechless for a few seconds.

you face him completely, your lips close to each other, so much that you breathe the same air. he pulls back immediately— he might be bold but he is still a loser.

you smile, totally making fun of him. then you ask, “to do what?”

“i—i don’t know?” he stutters when you come closer. he holds his breath as you keep leaning closer, “have some fun?”

you snort, going back to your original position, completely looking at anything but him, “be a gentleman.” you mock offence, “take me to dinner first.”

he mouths falls open, his eyes grow astronomically wide, “i—i don’t mean it like tha—” he stops as soon as your laugh escapes from your mouth. escapes. because you really meant to keep it for yourself.

he chuckles after a while being starstruck, as if he saw a star for the first time,“you only laugh at me and never with me,” he says and you shrug. “what about, i take you shopping?” it tickles you interest, he knows it. “and i pay everything you want—” he interrupts you when he sees you getting ready to protest. “i know you can buy anything you want. but let me do something for you, my love.”

you can’t lie, you fill pure bliss at the mention of shopping alone and maybe because of the petname he used on you.

you love spending money and the idea of making this arrogant, handsome, cocky spoiled rotten guy bankrupt makes you happy.

“okay,” you finally accept, he gets up immediately and offers his hand to you. you take it.

“after you, my love.”

KIM SUNOO 又は ─── THE CHARMING MILLIONAIRE

“why is no one there?” sunoo’s hand brushes your lower back whereupon you abruptly stop.

the man doesn’t tell you anything in return. only staring at the scenery in front of him. even as you stare at him, he stays quiet— a faint smile creeping on his face. the lights shine in his eyes and they are so beautiful.

everything is so beautiful, him and what he is staring at. you decide to admire it too.

you stand in front of your favorite restaurant, completely empty although it is early in the evening. the jazz music rings in your ears, a beyond angelic melody that you will be unable to forget.

there are a dozen candles on almost every table— except the one in the center of the room. you guess it is where you are both supposed to sit.

you go back to shooting daggers at his side profile. your grip gets tighter on your purse, your pulse gets quicker, you want to kiss him so bad. “please,” you start. “don’t tell me you bought that restaurant for me.”

he finally looks at you. the beaming smile suddenly showing on his face makes your entire spine shiver, “i didn’t, i knew you wouldn’t appreciate it,” he voice harmonized with the music in the back.

for the first time in a while, you don’t say anything back, you are left speechless. he observes you for a while, not speaking. as he always does.

he lifts his head to show the direction of the table in the middle, “let’s go, shall we?” he commands gently. without thinking, you do as you have been told. “good girl,” he adds.

you wander around the place, still a bit in a daze. you are unable to not contemplate the perfectly decorated room. too adoring of everything in the space, you don’t notice sunoo walking faster than you and arriving at the table before you.

he pulls the chair for you to sit, “m’lady,” he teases, watching you sit down politely. he has never seen you so shy. you smile at him as a thanks, pulling his heart strings.

he sits in front of you soon after, “you can order anything you want, the chefs and waiters are all there to serve you.”

YANG JUNGWON 又は ─── THE PROSPEROUS LOVER

your heart jolts after the sound of a tap gets heard from the outside. you look at the clock in front of your bed before looking at your balcony and whatever—or whoever—is outside.

it ticks two and a half at night. you frown, turning your head to see a man staring right back at you and doing a little wave.

the balcony’s automatic light reflects on his blonde hair, shines on his soft skin and he looks as pretty as a prince.

you tilt your head to the side, sighing to show your exasperation— he only smiles brighter at that.

he taps on the window again, and again, even while you walk to him, even while you unlock the glass doors.

“hi, doll,” he greets you, his dimples showing off perfectly. “did you miss me?” the cold air hits your bare skin, getting under your satin pajamas. shivering, you take his wrist in your hand and pull him in. “woah, eager are we?”

you ignore his stupid comment, focusing on closing the doors. still, the cold doesn’t leave your skin. you hug yourself gently, eyes sliding from the top of his head to his feet, “how did you even get in?”

“rose let me in,” of course. it wouldn’t be anyone else but one of your own maids doing that to you. “she said you would be delighted to see me.”

you put your hands on your hips. looking up at your ceiling, you mentally ask for help from higher beings. you don’t know if you can get through this, not this late.

when you look down again, jungwon is still standing, a face illuminated by a genuinely content and amused smile.

you blush, “what do you want?”

“i had something for you,” he tells you as he looks for something in his jacket pocket. when he gets his hand out, a beautiful box appears in his hand. “there.”

you narrow your eyes, hesitantly walking to him. your fingers brush his whereupon you take the box from him, your skin tingles.

after opening it, you get blinded by the stunning pearl necklace in there.

you remember this specific necklace vividly, you told him it was cute, that you might buy it sometime. you didn’t expect him to buy it for you. you didn’t need him to.

you bite your inner cheek, “i can buy my own jewelry,” you tell him. but there is no real bite in your words. “i have boxes full of it.”

“trust me i know,” he grins. “i just wanted to, because i—” he seems in a inner conflict of what he is about to say. you shallow, your mouth goes dry and you hold your breath. “i like you.”

NISHIMURA RIKI 又は ─── THE YOUNG RICH MAN

you meet him at your usual spot.

it is an exploit, really. sneaking out after a family dinner, away from your family and all the people in your house—when god knows how protective they are— is incredible. and you deserve an award for that.

sadly, you can’t stay for long tonight. you left your phone at home and know that it is only a matter of a few minutes before they start to come knock at your door to ask if you are okay or not.

you see riki from a short distance, he doesn’t see you yet and you can tell he is nervous from the way he looks at the big box in his hands.

“hey,” you try to get his attention and succeed. a smile appears on his face, gentle and soft. you mirror it— and send him a little wave.

he clears his throat, the moonlight reflects in his eyes, “hey,” he responds, voice husky.

you nod, your smile is still wide and joyful. but, you get straight to the point. you point at the box in his hands with your chin, “what is that?”

“oh—” he exclaims as if he forgot it was even there. he gaze fall on the box. it’s a cardboard box, in a soft brown. you can read ‘ami’ on it. he offers it to you, “it’s for you.”

it’s your turn now, to say “oh,” but in a softer and more pleased than not tone. you take it.

“i wanted to apologize for being late last time,” he fidgets with the rings of his fingers now that he is not holding anything. his eyes don't quite avoid yours but still won’t look at them for too long. “i know our meetings stress you out.”

too busy being sweet on his nervousness, you observe his cheeks getting redder as he talks instead of thanking him properly. it must stress him out because he doesn’t stop:

“bu—but! you are not obligated to wear it—” he is always so darling. “i mean— you can wear it if you’d like but i don’t want to force you to do—”

you take a deep breath while he stumbles over his words, punching air through your nose. you decide to end is cute misery, “thank you,” you get on your tiptoes to kiss his pink cheek. he blacks out. “i have to go now.”

to be honest, you would have found this gesture cocky and arrogant if it wasn’t riki. but maybe you are a little bit biased.

𓈒ㅤㅤ𓈒 taglist open

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ja3yun · 10 hours ago

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On the Roof || S.JY

stranger!jake x fem!reader warnings: smut (mdni), unprotected sex, oral (f.rec), cream pie, fingering, marking and biting, sex with a stranger, weirdly fluffy, petnames (princess, baby), mentions of bad relationships with parents, alcohol, comforting, do not have sex with strangers you meet on a roof, not proofread, anything else lmk! w.c: 9.7k synopsis: when you stumble across a boy on your apartment rooftop, you can't help but invite him to stay. a/n: hi! it's me. this is my first work back and honestly, it's not great but i just needed to get back in the swing of things so please be kind. I missed you guys a lot and the time away was exactly what i needed. thank you all for understanding, and i love you unconditionally!

The winter air tickles your senses as you push open the large, unfairly heavy door to your complex’s rooftop. It might be bitter, but it’s welcomed - your body creating unnecessary heat from both the walk up the three flights of stairs and the discomfort of your day.

Your shift was hard, too hard. Considering it’s a brand new year, you had stupidly thought that people would be a lot nicer to public service workers, yet you were proven wrong. With countless patients’ loved ones screaming down the phone to you, doctors barking demands at you because they see you as lesser than them, and not to mention the one man who decided that spitting in your face was a rational reaction to you politely telling him that he can’t see his grandmother who was in the middle of an operation.

Safe to say, you’ve had better shifts as a hospital receptionist.

But there was always one place you could count on to take a deep breath and reset. The rooftop. It’s quiet, overlooks the city, and helps you put into perspective that murder is not the answer to your life problems. But sometimes, God, you wish it was��

Gravel crunches beneath your feet as you make your way to the chairs you so perfectly placed underneath the solar-charged fairy lights, which hang half-arsed off the unused 1990 aerials. It’s not really how you would like to decorate the place, if you had it your way, you would have it looking reminiscent of the rooftop from Wish You, the same one you committed to memory as Lee Sang kissed In Soo for the first time. But since you’re not even supposed to have access to this part of the building, you’ll count the pathetic attempt at creating sanctuary as a win.

The lights guide you to your seat when you see a figure hunched over, one hand holding a beer and the other holding his head. This is not what you were expecting to see. No one comes up here, not past 10pm anyway. There is one neighbour who occupies the premises when he needs a smoke without his wife knowing, but he works the night shift. So this person is new.

“Um,” you begin, clearing your throat ever so softly to alert them of your presence without giving them an acute heart attack. “Hi?”

Their head jolts up from their hand, eyes wide and face shocked. Clearly, they didn’t expect to have company tonight either.

You focus on the figure in front of you – a boy, no older than yourself – scrutinising his features with a careful eye. As a woman, being vigilant around unfamiliar men has become second nature, an unfortunately ingrained habit of self-preservation you have mastered since before you can remember. So, your mind ticks through the usual checklist: is there a need to run? Are your shoulders getting that deep tingle that crawls up to your jaw? Is your gut making you want to vomit? None of those alarm bells ring. Instead, you’re met with something else entirely - uncertainty, maybe even sympathy.

The boy seems…fine, at least on the surface. No initial gut-wrenching unease claws at your insides. Emboldened by the absence of any red flags, you take another ginger step closer, studying him in detail.

His large, tired brown eyes peer out from behind thick-rimmed glasses, the weight of exhaustion evident. The glasses sit securely on his pretty thick nose. His lips, naturally full and a muted pink, are set in a neutral line, though the light could be softening their actual colour - it’s hard to tell beneath the hood’s shadow. Greasy, near-black hair clings to his forehead, unkempt but thick.

His outfit doesn’t fare much better to be honest; a mishmash of layers that hints at desperation more than deliberation. Faded grey jeans hang loose and crinkled, clearly worn more than once without a wash. Over a white t-shirt sits a black hoodie, topped off with a jacket far too big for him, the kind of size that suggests it doesn’t belong to him at all. The entire image strikes you in a way that leaves concern pricking all over your chest.

Steeling yourself, you step closer again, your voice soft but firm. “Are you okay?” The question is sincere, meant to come across as a kind gesture - like when you let a cat sniff around your hand before you just go in for the pet. Your eyes meet his, offering as much warmth as you can muster. There’s something about the way he sits, cold and crumpled, that pulls at your humanity.

At first, his expression flickers, betraying something fragile beneath the surface. But it doesn’t last. In an instant, his jaw sets, and his shoulders square in a defensive shift. His cheeks hollow as his tongue presses against them, words unspoken but clearly brewing. The moment hangs in the air, heavy and awkward.

It’s as if your simple question has poked at a bruise, tender and raw. You’ve touched something buried, and for reasons you can’t yet work out, his reaction irks you. Of all things to take issue with, why this? What on earth had he expected - for you not to ask a very valid question? Perhaps it’s the day you’ve had that’s caused the unnecessary offence on your behalf.

He averts his gaze, the connection between you severed. Instead, he tips back the beer bottle in his hand, his focus shifting to the cityscape below. The quiet glug of liquid slipping down his throat is the only response you get, and it grates against the care you offered.

A flicker of irritation sparks within you. Perhaps it’s the brush-off, or maybe it’s the contradiction in his actions. He’s sitting here in your space, looking like the embodiment of a cry for help, yet recoils at the smallest act of kindness. Still, you don’t back down. Instead, you shift your weight and tilt your head, keeping your tone neutral but unwavering.

“Fine, If you don’t want to talk, that’s sound,” you say, folding your arms against the cold. “But sitting out here, looking like the world’s chewed you up and spat you out…people are going to ask questions like ‘are you okay’ or ‘what’s the matter’. Just saying.” You huff out and follow his gaze to the city. People are having a much better day than you out there, and envy jabs at you.

For a moment, you think he’ll continue ignoring you; his shoulders remain tense, his grip on the bottle firm. But then he sighs, the sound long and weary, like air escaping a deflating balloon, one being pinched and controlled. When he finally speaks, his voice is rough, a surprising Australian accent whistling through the wind.

“I’m fine,” he mutters, though the words lack conviction. His eyes remain fixed on the horizon, steadfastly avoiding yours.

“You’re a terrible liar,” you counter, letting a small, dry smile tug at your lips. “And you’re also not allowed up here.”

A tense silence follows, broken only by the chug of a train in the far distance. It’s not exactly comfortable, but neither is it unbearable. You find yourself wondering who he is and what’s brought him to this specific rooftop.

“You can’t get up here unless you’re a tenant,” you blurt out, trying to get any morsel of information from him. You figure the quicker you find out what he’s doing here, the quicker you can find a solution for him to leave and then have your safe space back to yourself. You might have sympathy for him, clearly having a hard time of life, but so are you - and your comfort outweighs a total stranger who can’t even bother to look your way.

“Okay,” he says bored, sipping his beer again.

“That’s your invitation to either tell me that you moved in recently, or, your queue to leave because you’re trespassing.”

“Invitation declined.”

He is so rude, you think to yourself, though you wonder whether you should just call him out for it and at least gain some reaction for him.

Instead, you park yourself in the seat next to him, huffing as you drop down. “Well I’m not leaving until you do,” you state matter-of-factly, attempting to not let his presence ruin your mood even further. You suppose, if he sits and shuts up, you can at least pretend he isn’t here invading your space.

Though technically, you’re invading his, but you get the idea.

The boy side-eyes you, a small, angry smirk etching onto his cold rosey face. “Yeah? Well, you’re gonna be here for a long fucking time.” He spits his words out, frustration laced within each syllable, though you can tell it’s not directed towards you. The boy is so far in his own head that you begin to realise that any discontentment he might have has less to do with you and your presence, and more to do with the reason he’s hibernating on your rooftop.

So, you sit back, and leave him be. To be honest, you’ve dealt with far worse and crabbier people today, in comparison, this boy is like rainbows and kittens.

Closing your eyes, you let the white noise of the night take over you, infiltrating all your tension and disdain towards the day, and settling you into a comfortable silence. The fairy lights above add a serene atmosphere that you crave after work, the faint lights providing some fake warmth. They were not easy to get up there, but a few falls and tangles later, you realised that all the scrapes and twirls were worth it.

The hooded boy beside you peaks over, finally taking you in as more than an inconvenience. He notices how you breathe in deep, exhaling with a sigh of relief and a cloud of warmth that combats the freezing air.

It doesn’t take him a minute to realise that you’ve had a bad day too, and a pang of guilt hits him. He’s being unfair to you when you probably just want to relax under the night sky and here he is taking up space.

He takes up too much space.

Reaching down at his feet, he picks up a bottle of beer from his case, the clinking not even disturbing your quest for serenity. He pokes your thigh with the bottom of the bottle, gaining your attention. When your eyes meet once again, there’s a sorrowful look on his face, the alcohol a form of apology for being an arsehole. It’s an apology you’ll gladly accept.

“You look like you could use it,” he murmurs, offering a tight smile as he waits for you to take the brown glass bottle.

You wrap your hand around the base and lift it up in thanks. “I could use ten sambucas and a pint of tequila to wash them down,” you snort out a sarcastic chuckle, beginning to unscrew the cap. You need to thank whatever genius decided that bottle openers were too much hassle and gave people a much easier and more practical way to open a bottle of beer. You hope they’re having a good night.

The boy lets out a laugh, short but genuine, raising his own bottle to his lips. “That bad, huh?” he asks, voice muffled slightly by the glass.

“It gets like that,” you shrug, taking a long pull from the bottle, barely savouring the taste, routing around for the effects of calmness that it will bring rather than its pallet. “Comes with working in a hospital.”

He raises an eyebrow, curiosity momentarily overriding his gloom “Nurse?”

“Receptionist.” You correct him, hissing out as you absorb the alcohol. Beer is not your favourite taste, a Sex on the Beach is much more appealing, but you would down a tank of gasoline if it meant you could get rid of this stress.

He sucks in an empathetic breath, whistling low as he leans back against the seat. “Yeah, you need a gun, not alcohol.”

The comment catches you off guard, and for the first time in what feels like weeks, you laugh - really laugh. It bursts out of you, raw and unrestrained, carrying away the weight of the day. Life isn’t inherently awful, but it’s lonely sometimes. Working back shift in the hospital makes it hard to keep friends or any semblance of a social life. The most interaction you get that isn’t disgruntled patients or angry phone calls is on twitter with your online friends, but even then, it’s a rise-and-repeat conversation cycle of ‘for real’ and ‘same’ replies to posts you make about Jang Kyungho when no one is looking.

Not exactly the deep human connection that people need.

So this, being able to laugh and have a bit of understanding for even a second, is comforting. It almost makes you feel bad for cursing the boy out in your head.

Smiling, you extend a hand to him, “Y/N.”

He hesitates for a fraction of a second before taking it. “Jaeyun,” he replies, offering you a smile in return. It’s faint but sincere, a crack in the armour he’s wearing so tightly.

As he grips your hand in his, you feel the ice-coldness on his skin, a clear indicator that he has been up here for quite some time. Or at least out in the open air. It only makes you more intrigued - and with him being a little slither more open with you, you decide to take the nugget and run with it.

So you talk, and talk, and talk. It feels like forever but it’s actually only two hours. Not a lot is said, but you learn some things about him; hobbies, interests, friends, his favourite TV shows and Films. All surface-level stuff, yet it feels like you’re speaking to an old friend. He learns about you too - the same stuff, with added anecdotes about working in a hospital.

But there is one thing that you are dying to know.

“So,” you begin, twisting your patio chair to face him fully, the legs scraping along the asphalt of the roof. “You can guess I’m here after a bad shift…why are you here?” Your face is expectant, waiting for an answer while you drink your beer.

But Jaeyun’s face is overcome with a flash of rage, partly due to your question, but more the fact that your question made him think about the reason he is here. Though, as quickly as his face shows agitation, it dissipates just as fast. Instead, he opts for an obtuse response. “Just wanted to enjoy the view. That’s all.”

“Couldn’t do that from your own building, no?” you tease lightly, humour softening the prodding tone. But your persistence nudges too close to something real. “Oh... did your girlfriend kick you out?” The words tumble out before you can stop them, too sharp and intrusive.

Unfortunately, it’s a habit of yours to be so nosey that it comes off inconsiderate or produces ill-timed questions. In this instance, it’s both.

His grip tightens on the neck of the bottle. The knuckles whiten, the tension visible. For a moment, he studies the label, reading the same ingredients over and over as if they hold the secret to life's greatest mystery - what happened on that fishing trip in Gavin and Stacey.

“My parents did. Yeah.” His confession is sharp, devoid of emotion

Your stomach drops. “Oh...” It’s all you manage, guilt prickling at the edges of your thoughts. You’re so stupid for poking Y/N! You inwardly scold yourself. Obviously, this issue is so much bigger than you can process. Still, your mouth will continue to flap around.

“Yep.” He pops the p with bitter precision, his tone teetering on the edge of sarcasm. “Apparently, I need to ‘get my act together.’” He says with accompanying quotation marks from his fingers.

“As in?”

“As in I need to be their perfect little boy and follow in my brother’s footsteps - be a lawyer.” The words fall flat, heavy with resentment.

Nodding along, the pieces form enough for you to make your own solid conclusions. “And I guess you don’t want that?”

“Fuck no.” Jaeyun scoffs out a bitter laugh. “I’m more likely to need a lawyer than be one.”

“Ohhh a bad boy huh?” you wiggle your brows, trying to interject some semblance of humour into the moment while sussing him out, to lighten his load even just a smidge. You can’t begin to imagine what his parents said or did to him once he rejected their concept of a perfect life, and you don’t really want him to dwell on it right now either.

He laughs despite himself, a quiet sound that momentarily lightens his expression. “Maybe.” It’s a noncommittal answer, but he seems content to let you spin your own version of events.

Honestly, he is not bad in any shape or form. But when he says he would need a lawyer rather than being one, he means that that career is so absurd that even a goody too shoes like him is more likely to get in trouble before he stands in a suit.

He just wants to live his life without this great expectation, without people demanding he ‘do better’ when he knows he is doing just fine; he’s in a great University, studying music and production, and has a decent part-time job at the record store, which isn’t loads of money, but enough for him to pay his mum and dad digs and still have a life outside their constraints. He’s doing fine, or so he believes.

But fine isn’t enough for his parents. Their love towards their own son is tied to the weight of their expectations, ones he can’t - or won’t - carry.

“So they just…kicked you out?” you ask carefully, noting the sorrow in his features as he turns the events of the past few months in his head. Sympathy creeps back into your chest, any lingering annoyance dissipating along with the last sips of your beer.

“Yeah,” he confirms, sighing and shrugging. “It’s fine.”

“Are you staying with friends or…” You don’t finish the question because you’re scared of the answer; the dishevelled clothes and hair are enough to semi-confirm.

Jaeyun looks up, his gaze catching the glimmer of the fairy lights, their soft glow reflected in his dark irises. “I was, until a few days ago. You can only couch-hop for so long before people start to feel like you’re intruding.”

He holds no malice towards his friends, no bitterness in his tone, and honestly, his best friend Sunghoon said he could stay for as long as it took him to save up for an apartment of his own. But he doesn’t want to take advantage of his kindness, the boy already doing more for him than most would have. Even Jay, his other friend, offered to loan him the money for the first month's rent on a flat uptown.

But Jaeyun’s pride wouldn’t allow him to take advantage of their kindness. He would manage on his own, no matter how hard it got.

Seeing the pity in your eyes, he waves his hand to brush off your concern. “It’s fine, I’ve scraped up enough money to get rent now. I just need to find a place,” he smiles softly, appreciative of your sympathy even if he doesn’t want it. “I’ll be fine. I’m going looking tomorrow.”

There’s a sense of relief that his words bring you. Although his predicament isn’t ideal right now, it looks like it could be on the turnaround, and for that, you’re thankful.

“If it’s only for one night, do you want my couch?” The offer spills out before you can stop it, surprising even yourself.

Jaeyun laughs heartedly, eyebrows knitting in disbelief and amusement. “You’re fucking stupid.”

“Huh?!” you exclaim in shock. It’s not really the response you were expecting. A yes? Sure. A no? Absolutely. But an insult to punctuate your act of kindness was a curveball.

Sitting up straight, he places his beer on the ground, an amused smile softening his features. “I’m a random man you’ve known for a couple of hours. I could do anything to you in your own home, and you don’t seem the slightest bit worried about that.”

Okay, maybe he has a massive point. You don’t know him and he could literally attack you at any moment. And considering earlier you had to assess him before approaching, it shows that you do have the common sense not to let him stay with you.

But he poses no threat, none whatsoever. He’s just a boy in a fucked up situation, and your kind heart can’t see him freeze; god knows how many nights he’s been out. He’s already reminiscent of Jack Dawson turning into a block of iced body parts.

“Well, you won’t right?” You throw the question back to him. “I mean, to be honest, I’ve let men in my bed for a lot less than a tiny conversation and a beer.”

As soon as the words tumble out of your mouth, your cheeks flush to match his cold ones, neck tingling in embarrassment. You’ve just confessed that your standards are abysmally low - you’ve slept with men who didn’t even have the decency to buy you a drink nevermind learn your name.

Jaeyun stifles a laugh, rubbing at his eye. “For your pride, I’ll pretend you didn’t say that.” The smile on his face is so beautiful that you’re caught off guard a little. Now you wish he was one of the men you let roll around on top of you for a compliment and a ride home.

His expression shifts, returning to a more serious note, though the smile lingers. “Seriously, Y/N. Thank you for the offer, but I only have” - he glances at his watch - “six hours before sunrise anyway.”

“Seriously, it’s no trouble-”

“I’m serious too,” he interrupts gently, slouching back into his seat. “You should go in. It’s cold, and after the day you’ve had, you need sleep.”

“I-”

“Y/N.” His tone is firm but not unkind. “I’m fine. Go. I’ll see you around, yeah?”

His refusal stings in a strange way, the rejection of your kindness more personal than it should feel. But you know better than to argue with someone so resolute. It never ends well. So, with a resigned nod, you down the last of your beer and stand.

“Okay,” you reply, setting the empty bottle aside. “I’m in 4A if you change your mind. I can grab some blankets? Pillows?”

Jaeyun places a hand over his heart, a soft smile gracing his lips. “Thank you, Y/N. Truly. But I promise I’ll survive.”

And so, you leave him there, your heart tugging at you to insist, to argue, to make him take shelter in your tiny flat. But your feet keep moving, respecting his wishes.

As you reach the door, you glance back one last time, the words caught in your throat. You just hope he’ll be okay.

_____

The rain lashes, jolting you awake. It’s not the pretty white noise rain that you enjoy, it sounds like hundreds of tiny little pebbles being pelted at your window. Strange. It was forecast as clear skies until at least Tuesday.

You blink groggily, groaning at the interruption. You can’t have been asleep for more than two hours - if that. Begrudged, you turn your back to the outside, shielding yourself from the rain that cannot attack you. Yet, an unsettling feeling stews in the bottom of your stomach, the kind that makes your heart beat faster and your mouth gain moisture.

It’s not uncommon for you to have random spouts of anxiety, all your life you’ve suffered from it, but this isn’t your typical ‘my brain is going to bring up that one time I peed myself in primary 2 and had to be sent home’ anxiety. This is something more.

Fuck.

Jaeyun.

The thought hits you like a bolt of lightning and your body moves before your mind can catch up. You fling off your pastel pink duvet, slide your feet into your beloved fuzzy slippers, and throw on a housecoat to cover your half-naked form. If you had the right mindset and not half asleep and half in panic, you would have grabbed a rain jacket and some trainers instead.

Thought, without thinking about your own state, the chilly air cuts at your skin as you make your way to the roof. The rain, now mixed with hail, pelts down hard, each sting enhancing your concern. Your eyes roam around near the seated area, one of your hands shielding your eyes from the brutal hailstones, each one nipping your hand in anger.

"Jaeyun?" you shout, your voice cutting through the storm, only to be drowned out by the constant rain. You get closer to the seats and see nothing. Panic overwhelms you, hot and stifling. "Are you still here?"

As you spin around, your eyes finally land on him. He’s slumped up against the rooftop enclosure which acts as a headboard to an uncomfortable concrete bed. His jacket and hoodie are doing as much to protect him as a candyfloss blanket, each soaked through and clinging to his skin. How can he sleep like this? It makes you wonder if he lied about just how long he had stopped couch-crashing and living out in the open.

Quickly, you drop to your knees beside him, ignoring the puddle that entrenchs your legs, and place your hand on his shoulder as you shake him awake. “Jaeyun?” you bellow, loud enough for him to startle awake and instantly put a guard up.

“Huh?” he mumbles, voice thick with confusion.

“Come on, I’m not leaving you up here,” you inform. This time, it isn’t a question but a demand. You have too much compassion to willingly leave him up here any longer.

Jaeyun’s eyes squint through his water-splattered glasses as he takes in your figure. “Y/N? What the fuck are you doing? You’re soaked,” he states the obvious, yet oblivious to his own state. “Go back inside.”

“Not without you,” you fire back. “Grab your things.”

“But-”

“Either that or I stay up here with you,” you cut him off, voice firm though only kindness shines through.

You can see the conflict in his face, his concern for your drenched state outweighing his stubbornness. He sighs, defeated, and finally nods. “Fine.”

If there is one thing Jaeyun hates to be is a burden, but it seems no matter what happens, he will inconvenience you in some way - might as well choose the drier option.

Standing upright, you extend a hand, offering him some help up, but he refuses. Instead, he grabs the duffle beside him and clumsily gets up, following you down and into your apartment.

As soon as he walks into the warmth, his bones leap with excitement and his shoulders relax in contentment. You flick on the lights which allows him a better view of your personal space. And it is exactly how he imagined it.

Your walls are covered in art and photos of you and your friends, lyric posters from bands he has never even heard of, and a shrine to TO1 in the corner. It’s cosy, lived in, and he feels a massive pang of envy.

“You can use my shower,” you say while subconsciously tidying up, removing the cups and wine glasses that have piled on the coffee table. “Luckily for you, I like wearing guy’s clothes on my period so I’ll see what I can find to fit you.”

“Seriously, Y/N. I’ll just, dry off with a towel or something, No Stress.” He doesn’t like the fuss but he can’t deny he doesn’t feel a little fuzzy as you make space for him.

Scoffing, you turn around with a perplexed look on your face. “A towel? Jaeyun, you’re soaked to the bone. You need a shower and then you can have a towel, okay?”

A grateful grin adorns the boy’s face as he takes his shoes off. “Okay. Thank you, Y/N. Seriously.” Jaeyun nods, clutching his damp duffle as he trudges towards the bathroom.

You point out the way, adding a quick, “Towels are on the rack, and there’s shampoo, soap, and more in there. Just use whatever you need, okay?”

With another muttered thank you, he waddles to your bathroom, suddenly enthralled with how the night has panned out. It’s been a while since he had a decent shower, and the ones in the Uni’s lockeroom are made more for a quick wash down than a deep cleanse.

As he disappears into the bathroom, you let out a sigh, glancing around your apartment. It isn’t a mess by your standards, but you suddenly feel self-conscious about the clutter. Usually, when people are up, it’s those who are either only making their way to your bedroom or those who do not care and have known you long enough to understand that you like a bit of mess.

A messy home is a home loved.

The sound of running water echoes from the bathroom, and you take the moment to rummage through your wardrobe. You pull out a pair of joggies and an oversized hoodie that has seen you coming every cycle for the past three years. You can’t get much more comfort than these. They’ll be a bit loose on his slim frame, but they’re warm and dry.

Speaking of which, you glance down at your own rain-soaked state, grimacing. The slippers squelch faintly with each step, and the damp housecoat clings unpleasantly to your skin. Without hesitation, you pull out a baggy t-shirt and some old pyjama shorts, slipping into them after quickly drying off your hair with a towel that’s close by. It’s not inherently clean, but it serves its purpose, so that’s good for now.

Satisfied, you place the clothes Jaeyun will borrow on the sofa before heading to the kitchen. The kettle hums to life as the storm outside continues its symphony, the hail getting more dangerous and cutthroat. A hot cup of tea feels like just the thing to chase away the chill, after all, there’s little problems in life that a good cuppa can’t fix.

Just as you reach for the tea bags, the creak of the bathroom door pulls your attention.

Jaeyun steps out, his damp hair falling messily over his forehead, droplets of water glistening on his skin. A towel sits promiscuously low on his hips, and despite yourself, your gaze trails downward. The delicate silver chain around his neck catches the light, the cross pendant resting at eye level with his pretty brown nipples. Your eyes wander further, taking in the faint definition of his toned abs, the subtle dip hinting at a v-line. And his cock is outlined perfectly to give you an idea of his size and width but you can tell it still doesn’t do him justice.

You realise with a jolt that your mouth is slightly open, and the train of your thoughts is taking a decidedly inappropriate detour. Heat rushes to your cheeks as your mind conjures up scenarios you’d never admit aloud. A pang of guilt follows swiftly - this boy has been through hell, and he’s come to you for solace, not to be gawked at.

“Sorry,” Jaeyun says, breaking the spell. His voice is soft, a mix of embarrassment and strange pride, as he catches your lingering stare. “I’ll get dressed. I just…didn’t know where the clothes were.”

“Oh!” You clear your throat and nod toward the sofa, purposefully keeping your gaze above his shoulders. “Yep, just there. Help yourself. I think they’ll fit.”

As he moves to retrieve the clothes, you busy yourself with literally anything else - studying the ceiling, adjusting the kettle, anything to avoid the moment and stop trying to catch glimpses of his cock.

You don’t hear the rustling of clothes though, instead, you just hear yourself breathing, which piques your interest. Why isn’t he changing?

Subtly, your eyes glance over to him and then you see it, the look on his face as he stares at the clothes. You’ve had that look before too, the one that comes with the mixed feelings of disbelief, shame, sadness, hope, and every other conflicting emotion that arises when you’re down and out.

“Thanks,” he whispers, “For all of this.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” you reply, taking a few small steps forward. But Jaeyun shakes his head, his eyes fixed on the floor.

“No, really,” he insists. “I…I don’t think I’ve met someone as kind as you in a long time.” His voice breaks on the last word, and he quickly looks away, ashamed of the vulnerability slipping through.

He has his friends, they are kind and generous much like yourself, but being kicked out of his own family has also shown him the darkest parts of humanity, the ones that he doesn’t let others know that he’s experienced. Truthfully, he’s just a scared boy who needs his family.

The admission punches through your chest, leaving no room for hesitation. You glide over to him as your arms wrap gently around his shoulders.

If a cuppa can fix most things, a hug can fix them all.

At first, he stiffens, unsure how to respond, but then he relaxes, his head lowering slightly against you.

“It’s okay,” you murmur softly. “You’re going to be okay. Maybe not right now, but soon.”

Jaeyun’s arms tentatively come up to return the embrace, and for a moment, the storm outside fades into irrelevance. His eyes close and for a change, he believes that it will be fine. This moment isn’t going to last forever, once the morning blooms, he’ll be out of your life and trying to get back on his feet, but he’s thankful for the reassurance and hope right now.

Pulling back slightly, his arms still lingering around you. His eyes, uncertain and yearning, flicker between your face and your lips. Then, without a second thought, he leans in and presses his lips to yours - a fleeting, hesitant kiss that seems to catch even him off guard.

His lips retract from yours as he draws back, his face flushed with embarrassment and horror. “Sorry,” he mumbles, his voice barely above a whisper. Why the fuck would he kiss you without consent when you’ve been so kind towards him? He thinks. His hand twitches at his side, as though unsure whether to retreat or reach out again. “I didn’t mean to-”

“Would it make you feel better?” you interrupt gently, your voice soft but steady.

His brows furrow, confusion flickering across his features. “What?”

“Would it make you feel better?” you repeat, tilting your head slightly. There’s no judgment in your tone, no hesitation. “To kiss me?”

“Really, no, it’s okay-”

This time, you close the distance, your lips capturing his before he can finish the sentence. It’s slow, deliberate, a kiss that tells him you’re here for him despite still being strangers. His initial surprise melts into something deeper, something warmer, as he responds cautiously at first, then with more certainty.

It actually is making him feel better, the human connection, it’s nature's balm.

So he follows your lead, his arms tightening around your waist, holding you impossibly close as his hands splay over your back, covering most of the surface. The way his plump lips move against yours is magnetic, sucking and pulling you into his world. You’ve been kissed more times than you can count - shamelessly to say - but his mouth feels a little different; a little less icky than the others and a lot more like they’re meant to be on yours.

With that feeling charging your bloodstream, your hands fly up to his damp hair, craving to have him on each of your senses. You can’t get enough of him, his taste of beer from the numerous bottles he downed on the roof, the touch of his silky locks that are in need of a haircut, his scent of your strawberry milk body wash mixing in with his own musk, how he sounds when he growls into your mouth, showcasing that he’s just as desperate as you are for this.

You need him…

Swiftly, your hands trail from his head, down his neck, your nails lightly scratching down his collarbones until you reach the veins just above where you were unabashedly looking not 10 minutes ago.

Jaeyun pushes your ass against the sofa, bucking up into you, hips deliciously working to place your hand on his cock. God, it feels beautiful, even with the fluffy barrier.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he moans deeply into your mouth, passing the need from himself into you. Your hand grips his covered shaft as you palm him teasingly. “Don’t do this if you don’t want to.”

Honestly, he doesn’t want to say anything that will make this stop, his body pulsing with the desire to have you wrapped around him. But he also believes in consent, and while you both might be horny-induced 22-year-olds, you’re also strangers.

Shaking your head adamantly, you grip his dick harder, smiling at the whimper it draws from him. “I want this, Jaeyun.”

“I suppose, men have been in your bed for a lot less, right?” he chuckles into your mouth. And while it could come across as an insult to some - that he’s essentially throwing back your own slut-shaming dialogue from earlier - you feel no degradation or malice behind his words. You can tell he’s playful, under all the dreary circumstances. He’s a boy who has light and laughter built into his DNA.

Maybe it’s delusion, maybe it’s a soul connection, or maybe it’s the fact that you need to bounce on his cock within the next five minutes or you’ll perish that’s clouding your judgment.

Either one, you let it slide.

So, playfully, you slap his chest and break the kiss. “Keep talking and you won’t get the chance to see my bedroom.”

“That’s okay, I can fuck you here,” he replies quick-witted, suddenly hoisting you up on the back of the couch, the wood and material digging into your ass not uncomfortably.

You laugh and so does he, looking into each other’s eyes, and it all feels so right.

Bringing your hand up to his face, you push his hair off of his forehead and reveal his eyes - the light from your living room dancing in his pupils, much like how they had been on the rooftop, but this time, there is an abundance of happiness that adds to the shine.

“You’re so pretty,” you confess, that no-filter brain coming into full effect once again. Granted, a much better consequence of it.

A faint, rose blush crawls across the apples of his cheeks and the tip of his nose, a bashful grin on his mouth. “Thank you. Personally, I think you’re prettier so…”

“Guess we can be pretty together, huh?”

“Pretty good together you mean?”

Another laugh jumps out of you and you cup both his cheeks, the warmth of them comforting and worth cherishing. You peck his nose. “I should have known a pretty boy like you would be a charmer.”

He shrugs, kissing your nose back, not bothering to rebut. Instead, his hands guide your legs to wrap around him, hands finding your ass, and he lifts you up. You can’t ignore his cock now semi-hard pressing into you as he bounces you into a comfortable position.

Securing yourself, you circle your arms across his shoulders and kiss him once again, letting him lead you down your hallway, anticipation and greed passing through your breaths and tongues.

“Which one?” he pants out, squeezing your ass as he does so.

“This one on the right,” you point half-arsed, too lost in the moment to give it a full thought.

Awkwardly due to your wriggling body, Jaeyun opens the door, trying to view a path to which he can reach your bed without falling over your clutter. Shoes and more lay abandoned over your carpet, creating an obstacle, but one he refuses to lose.

Jaeyun finally reaches your queen-sized bed and gently places you down, his cock pressing into you even more.

It’s only then that he realises that along the way from your living room to your bedroom, his towel has fallen down, leaving his exposed cock rubbing against the fabric of shorts. “Jesus fucking christ.”

You look at him and see the pleasure on his face, biting his lips as his eyebrows knit together, rubbing against you again. It makes you giggle, you don’t know why, but he just brings it out of you.

The sound from your lips draws his attention back. “What?” he breathes out heavily, cock thumping with need as he humps you again.

“Maybe you should be inside of me while you thrust - kinda how this whole sex thing works,” you playfully jab, biting your lips together to stop from laughing. But he laughs for you, resting his forehead on your chest and shaking his head in amusement.

“Shut up, I’m just excited.”

“I can see that, yeah.”

It’s easy with him, you’re noticing, like you’ve somehow been in a relationship for years and you’ve just come home from a couples date with your married friends, two bottles of red wine consumed, and adoration palpable in the air. You have two dogs, maybe three if you can get your way, and you are the annoying pair that people hate to hang out with because your love for one another never dwindled, not even after all those years.

Maybe you shouldn’t be fantasising about a life with this random man you met on a roof, but that’s where your brain immediately goes each time you banter or giggle with one another.

He’s different.

Jaeyun stands up, letting you see his cock as he pumps it gently, getting it to full mass. The fact that it’s standing at 5 inches already and still growing causes an ache in your stomach. Fuck, it’s going to feel so good inside of you, your walls are already leaking out for it, staining your pyjama shorts.

His hands grip your shorts and peel them off, hurriedly throwing them on the floor, only adding to the chaos. Your legs instinctively spread and the juices from your excitement gleam in the moonlight, looking like a ripe fruit just ready to be devoured.

And devoured it will be.

Hoisting you down, Jaeyun positions you at the end of the bed until your ass is almost hanging off, kneeling down between your thighs. Not exactly how you thought the turn of events was going, but you are the furthest from mad at it.

“You look so fucking delicious, Y/N.” Jaeyun’s comment makes you feel exposed but not in a bad way, yet, you still want to hide from him. As your legs try to close, he places his large hands on your thighs, shaking his head. “No, princess, the only way you're shutting your legs right now is if you’re clamping my head between them.”

“Jaeyun…” you whine, both at the petname and his breath ghosting over your hardened clit, making it weep again - much to Jaeyun’s delight.

“I know, princess. You need it, huh?” Jaeyun whispers, kissing up your inner thigh and around the area you crave him most.

The heat in the room is electric, any cold you both felt from the rain now disappeared from your bones and replaced with scorching intensity. Your hips follow the blow of his breath in search of connection but he simply places a chaste kiss on your clit before pulling away, a smirk on his face as he sees you whimper and squeak.

“You make the prettiest noises when you’re desperate, Y/N,” he gloats, though it’s prideful and not arrogant. He means it, and that’s why he keeps teasing you softly, puckering at your folds and giving you just enough to have you humping the air and arching into him.

“I’m never letting you use my shower again,” you laugh in discontentment, your arm flying across your face as you hide in the comfort of your bicep.

Jaeyun huffs a laugh, echoing your own amusement before he speaks. “I know, I’m being so mean considering you’ve been so kind, huh? You’re just so cute when you’re like this.”

“I’m about to become a bitch if you don’t do something,” you warn lightly, peaking down to look at him under your arm.

“Well, I better get to it then right?”

And with that, his thick tongue stripes up your folds, gathering and savouring your wetness. Your back arches off the bed and pushes just enough onto him that his nose catches your clit. “Fuck!” you bellow.

The tip of his tongue searches for your nub, and once it hits the spot and your hands fly to his hair, his lips suction around it, almost making out with it.

He’s not real you think to yourself. You can’t help the jealousy that rises inside of you as your brain works overtime to imagine just how many girls he has had to go down on for him to be this good at eating you out. If there was ever such a thing as a pussy eating contest, you know he would win hands down because he’s already got you chanting his name, punctuated by profanities.

“Right there, Jaeyun…fuck…”

His pride swells and he grows more confident, tongue flicking quickly over your button as he drools over your cunt. It’s safe to say that Jaeyun loves pussy. If he could have it morning, noon, and night, and elevensies, he would without hesitation. Especially yours. The taste of your tang and sweetness is enough to put him in a frenzy, long forgetting about his aching cock and focusing solely on drinking you up.

He humps the air though, as he always does, resembling a dog in heat as he slabbers and grunts into your cunt. He nibbles at your clit and soothes it with his wet muscle, a smile plastered on his face with each movement - your noises urging him on.

He brings his middle and ring finger to your pulsating hole as it clenches around nothing, deciding to give you some more relief. As he plunges in, you scream out in joy, an open-mouthed smile on your face as coherent words get lost in your throat. You clearly don’t get eaten out as often as you deserve, and that just spurs Jaeyun on more to be the best you’ve ever had.

“So wet for me, princess. Taste so fucking good I want to be here for hours.”

And while that sounds nice in theory, you need him inside of you now. His fingers, thick and beautiful, are nice for now, but that 6-inch, throbbing cock is calling your name. So, you pull him away much to your pussy’s weeping plea for him to keep going, his mouth covered in your slick which is perhaps the most beautiful sight you have ever seen - and you’ve seen the Northern Lights on a crisp autumn morning.

His fingers never stop though, just curling inside of you slowly, beckoning your climax still. “What’s wrong?” he asks, concern weaving in his tone.

Sitting up on your elbows, you smile and pant, trying to maintain a steady voice while the tip of his fingers presses against your soft spot inside, jaw slacking each time he holds it for a little longer. “I need your cock so back, Jaeyun. I’m so serious.” The words are desperate and real, shamelessly desperate.

“You sure you don’t want to cum right now? I can do it.” It’s not like he can’t make you cum over and over again anyway.

Shaking your head, you sit up, hunching over to cup his face. “Please. I really need you to fuck me.”

A primal desire flickers past Jaeyun’s eyes and a quick nod tells you that he needs it too. His cock jumping for joy at the thought of being enveloped in your tight cunt. So, he withdraws his fingers and licks them clean, pulling on a show as his tongue weaves through his digits, wide eyes looking up at you with sheer longing. It stirs something inside of you, something that suddenly makes you want to grow a cock and have him choke on it.

But you quickly shake those thoughts, pulling him up by his hair and kissing him deeply. His tongue now tastes of you and you are so glad you love sweet juices and decided that for the past three weeks, cranberry spritz has been your favourite.

Jaeyun makes quick hands of stripping you of your t-shirt, leaving you both naked and clawing at one another.

“You got condoms?” he asks between kisses, trailing down your neck as his hands grip your hips so tightly that the skin turns white.

But you don’t want that. You want to feel him. Raw and unfiltered. Is it stupid? Of course, it is. But some would say letting him inside your home never mind inside your body is already wreckless, so, what’s another reckless abandonment on your list tonight?

“No. No condom, please,” you mumble against his hair as you kiss the top of his head, your conditioner filling your senses.

Jaeyun freezes his mouth and darts up, eyes seeking yours to make sure he heard you right. “Huh?”

“No condom. I’m on the pill,” you stroke his cheek tenderly, “Please, Jaeyun. Do this with me just once, yeah?”

For some reason, that ‘just once’ pangs in the boy’s chest and he hates the feeling more than anything. He doesn’t want this to be once, he wants this to be again, and again, and then some more. Jaeyun isn’t one to believe in fate but considering he chose your flat complex rooftop out of all the others in the city, and it decided to pour down - even though it’s been dry for the past two weeks - which led to you coming to get him and practically drag him into your home; he would say that doesn’t happen by chance.

Although, instead of getting in his head, he agrees, lust overpowering his responsibility to be safe. “I want it too, so fucking badly,” he leans down, rubbing his leaking cock on your slit, mouth moving to your ear. “I can’t wait to cum inside you, fill you up and make you suck me in.”

Does he know where this confidence came from? Perhaps it was the way you whispered into the air his name over and over again how good you felt while he ate your pretty little cunt, or maybe it's the fact that if this is your only time under him, he will damn make sure you’re thinking about him for the rest of your life.

The heels of your feet move with his ass as he gyrates his hips, allowing his cock to snag on your clit and elicit a hiss from both of you. Your lips messily leave open-mouth kisses over any skin that you can reach; his neck, cheek, lips, forehead, all of it, the feeling of his glistening skin on your lips addicting.

“Please, Jaeyun. Fuck me. Right. Now.”

Your pleading snaps him into full throttle, his hand guiding his cock to your entrance, his bell expanding and contracting as he slips inside of you. Your groans of pleasure harmonise in the winter night, both your bodies connecting fully as he bottoms out slowly, balls meeting your ass as he pushes in to the hilt.

“Holy shit,” he whispers, burying his face in your neck, and you lock him in there, fisting his hair and bucking your hips for friction. He fills you up so good you wonder why humans are born empty and not with a permanent cock up their pussy.

You never want him to leave.

“Move, Yunnie, please.” The tone of your voice doesn’t carry much conviction but portrays your desperation for him. The nickname falling off your cock-drunk tongue much to his happiness. If anyone ever calls him Yunnie again, and it overtakes the way you whimper it out, he will commit murder. Only you can call him that, call him whatever you want, call him by his name, ever again.

Obeying your wishes, he begins to pull back his hips and move them painfully slow back into you, feeling each bump of your walls and how they meld perfectly with the veins of his fat cock.

While he loves savouring the moment of you taking him in, feeling how your hole adapts to his girth and length, creating way just for him. “Faster, Yunnie. God, please.”

“Asking God to help get what you want is crazy considering it’s me you should be begging,” he chuckles, never increasing his pace.

“Shut up, please,” you whine out, grabbing his ass and trying to physically move him to speed up.

“You can ask me to shut up but not beg me to move faster?” he tuts, going even slower, “C’mon, princess. Ask me nicely.”

You want to slap him, a dry laugh coming from your throat as you fight between your pride - telling you never to do as a man says - and your need for him to start jackhammering into you.

Well, you suppose you can let your pride have a night off for a chance.

“Jaeyun, please, move faster. I’m begging you. Fuck me faster and harder.”

Those sweet yet filthy words send Jaeyun into orbit, and he grants your prayers. With his hands pushing down your hips, he begins to thrust with ferocity, the tip of his cock not punching into your cervix. It’s much more delicious than you ever could have imagined, the way he snaps into your cunt with no restraint, your pussy taking a beating in the best way possible.

This is heaven.

“Yes, Jaeyun! Yes! Don’t fucking stop, please.”

And stop he does not. In fact, he lifts your legs over his shoulders and folds you in half, the new angle somehow reaching so deep you can feel him poking your stomach. You have never felt this good in your life. A cock has never made your brain turn to mush or made your hands literally peel the skin from your partner’s back before, yet here you are, chanting incoherent words into his ear and clawing up his shoulder blades.

“Fuck, you feel so fucking good, princess. Taking my cock so well.” Jaeyun breathes into your neck, nipping at your skin and he marks you right back. His praise makes you smile, kissing all over his face in appreciation for the pleasure he is giving you right now. “Such a good girl, Y/N.”

You could cum that minute, and he feels how you clench around him, sucking him in further, making him tip his head back and move even faster. He wants you to cum together, and with how good your pussy feels, he isn’t far from it.

“You sure you want me to cum inside?” he asks again, trying to gauge whether you could have changed your mind. But you grip his hair and stare into his eyes.

“If you don’t, I’ll kick you out back into the rain.”

Jaeyun laughs. Hard. Your threat is meaningless because you clearly would never leave him out there again to drown in the winter hail, but it does get your point across. You don’t just want his cum, you need it. And luckily for you, he is happy to oblige.

So, with your consent, he works on getting you both to the edge, his right hand coming down to your clit and rubbing it in smooth circles, a juxtaposition to his harsh thrusts. And you begin to see stars, constellations, as you arch your back and wriggle under him. The coil in your tummy burns with the insatiable pull.

“I’m cumming! Yunnie, I’m cumming,” you warn, happiness filtering the air as you buck your hips and match the rhythm of his shaft penetrating you. “Cum with me. Please, baby.”

Baby

His balls tighten at the petname and groans loudly. “Call me that again.”

“Baby, cum inside me,” you repeat within a moan, forcing your eyes open to lock onto his. “Cum with me.”

And just like that, with the final clench of your walls around him, he spurts his white seed inside of you, a primal roar escaping his lips as each rope coats your canal. You cum with him, his name falling from your lips over and over again as you chant out in hymn.

“Squeeze it, princess. Take it all like you want.” He validates you without ridicule, a grin of glee etching onto his face as his body shakes with the euphoria he feels. You were right, cumming inside of you is much better than a condom.

After a while, both your hearts begin to slow down and his body collapses onto yours. His lips lazily kiss your sweaty skin on the top of your breast, your fingers threading through his now dry hair, the only wetness coming from persperation. Its intimate, despite the newness of the situation, and you can’t help but plaster a smile on your face.

It feels so right.

And you’re not the only one who believes so.

Jaeyun gathers some strength to lean on his arm, cupping your face as he strokes your cheek. “Can I be honest?”

“Of course.”

“I don’t want this to be a one-time thing.” His voice is wavering due to exhaustion, but it’s overshadowed by sincerity.

Placing your hand over his, you titter slightly, the sound making Jaeyun’s stomach knot and cock pulse inside you once again. “You mean having sex or staying in my house and abusing my shower privileges?”

“Both.” He murmurs earnestly, pinching your cheek. “I also want you to abuse my shower…when I get one.” The last part of that sentence falters slightly, his voice dipping as if suddenly comping back into his reality.

But you won’t let him dwell in it. Instead, you reach up to kiss him gently, lips expressing the reassurance you worry your words might not. And it seems to do the trick because, in an instant, he’s kissing you back with passion, taking each swipe of your tongue against his as confirmation that you want to have this again and see where it goes.

It could lead to nothing but it could lead to everything.

And he needs to find out.

#enhypen smut #enha smut #jake smut #aj writes #jake x reader #jaeyun smut #jaeyun x reader #enha x reader #enhypen x reader

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bows4tyun · 1 day ago

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UNSPOKEN - ! ⸝⸝ 최범규

۶ৎ: beomgyu didn't have the balls to tell you he wanted another baby, he just couldn't. the truth was, he missed seeing you round and pregnant all because of him. he was embarrassed to ask, so he took matters into his own hands.

𓍼 pairing! - tradhusband!beomgyu x wife!reader

𓍼 warnings! - dom!beomgyu, sub!reader, massive breeding kink, beomgyu lies and says he'll pull out, big dick beomgyu, ass smacking, nipple play, groping, punishment, beomgyu referred as sir and gyu by reader, beomgyu calls reader sweetie and baby (and good wife)

# lexi adds! - trad husband gyu is a whole different beast i think that should be a warning itself but yeah I had a lot of fun writing my future life (jk lol) feedback and reblogs are appreciated!! :3 sorry this took a while to finish !!

beomgyu was exhausted. exhausted of the stressful day at work, countless business calls and offensively impolite middle aged men who wanted to invest in the company, it was all too much.

all he wished for was to get back home to his wife and two sons and rest.

he thought of the warm greetings he would get from his family once he arrived home; his two boys running up to him and a loving kiss from his wife alongside dinner.

his drive back home was full of different thoughts. but one of them stuck in his mind for a while.

he loved his sons, that was no lie. but beomgyu thought of having a daughter. thinking of how cute and beautiful she would be, just like her mother. she would be the princess of the family. beomgyu didn't know if you were ready for another baby. your two boys were always causing trouble around the house but maybe having a little girl to look after and protect would calm them down.

beomgyu didn't have the balls to tell you he wanted another baby, he just couldn't. the truth was, he missed seeing you round and pregnant all because of him. the way your breasts would grow full of milk, oh what a beautiful sight to see. he was embarrassed to ask, so he took matters into his own hands.

beomgyu had gotten out of work at 6 pm, maybe his kids would be asleep by the time he got home and it would just be you two, the perfect opportunity to get you pregnant.

when beomgyu got home, it was the opposite of what he was expecting.

the boys ran around as they chased each other around the kitchen and living room, screaming like wild animals while you tried to quiet them down at the same that you finished cooking dinner for beomgyu.

the house was supposed to be well organized, taken care of by you, yet you were struggling to keep the boys in place.

it took them a while to realize that he had entered before they turned and shouted "daddy!" running to him with their arms wide open.

he knelt down to their level and hugged them both tightly, his gaze meeting yours in a looming look. he let them out his grip and they went back to playing loudly just as before.

beomgyu got back up and began walking toward you as you plated his food. after you placed it on the table, his voice spoke sternly, "why aren't those two in bed? it's past their bedtime."

you looked back at the clock on the oven, it was indeed past their bedtime. you had a timid look on your face as you looked into his eyes. "I wasn't paying attention to the time..."

"Did they eat already?" he said.

your voice sounded faint-hearted as the words left your mouth "No, not yet. I'll plate their food right now."

"that's what I like to hear, get to it."

⸝⸝

and just like that, everyone was sitting at the dinner table, eating. this wasn't what beomgyu had in mind. he expected to be all alone with you, have you all to himself as the kids slept peacefully in their room.

"mommy I'm tired..." the youngest spoke after finishing his portion of food, yawning quietly and you could tell his eye lids were beginning to become heavy.

"me too!" the eldest said after, his plate empty as he raised his hand.

"okay then let's get you and your brother to bed, come on you two." you said warmly as they got out of their chairs and followed behind you, you leading them to their bedroom. beomgyu watched, thinking of how good of a mother you were. he could only imagine how you'd be with a baby daughter.

after a few minutes that seemed like forever to beomgyu, you left the room, going back to the dining table as you started to pick up all the cleared plates quietly, beomgyu watching you in action.

"sweetie, you can just clean that in the morning" his voice spoke out to break the silence, his tone calm yet menacing. "you're basically asking me to punish you after all that, aren't you?"

"after what...?" you said, a bemused sound in your voice as you spoke.

He stood up from his seat, standing in front of you with a threatening glare "why weren't you responsible enough to put the boys to bed at their bedtime, hm? you should've been aware of the time."

"I'm sorry gyu-" you're cut off by beomgyu;

"it's sir to you, baby" beomgyu said in a poker-faced manner.

"I'm sorry sir..." your voice was quiet and soft-spoken while your gaze fell to your feet.

"sorry isn't going to cut it. bedroom, now."

⸝⸝

now here you were, in the dimly lit room that you shared with beomgyu, in an all fours position on the king sized bed. beomgyu watched with aberrant eyes at your naked form displayed for him. his hands ran and grazed along the curves on your body, his hand cupping your ass, rubbing against the skin.

"do you need a punishment, baby?" he lightly slapped your ass, implying the kind of punishment he had in mind.

a muffled squeak escapes past your lips, the fear starting to climb against your body, "n-no sir..." your voice was so soft spoken, barely above a whisper as you answered.

"you just love to disobey the rules, don't you baby?" he said, " I won't let that slide this time. you're supposed to be a good wife, obeying the rules I set for you. did you follow them?" he grabbed a fistful of your hair, tugging your head back lightly to make eye contact with you.

"n-no sir..." you repeated , your words leaving as a small vulnerable croak, tears swelling at the rim of your eyes.

"what's wrong, hm? is my baby crying already?" he says, cooing you in a teasing fashion, "there's no reason to be crying. do you want me to give you a reason to cry, sweetie?"

you stayed silent for a few seconds, leaving the question unanswered as you sniffled and held back tears. big mistake.

beomgyu's anger was now fueled by your disobedience and he tugged your hair harder, his voice louder and way more threatening before. "why aren't you answering me? you think you're going to run around by your own rule book? well you thought wrong. bad wives get punished."

without hesitation, you receive a hard smack on your ass, causing you to yelp.

"that's all you're going to do? yelp like a stupid baby? count."

another slap to your ass.

"o-one...!" you cry out, the tears officially spilling from the barrier that once held them back, they ran down your face just like a waterfall.

"that's more like it." he said, his words punctuated with an even harder slap against your skin, the contact beginning to paint your ass cheek a bright red hue, "you should always be obedient like this."

another cry left past your lips "two!" your arms weaken and you let your upper half fall against the bed, your ass still up in the air to beomgyu's access.

"is that all you need? do you need more?" he questioned, his taunting voice ringing in your ear.

"n-no sir! no more!" your pathetic cries reach beomgyu's lips, turning them into an unapologetic smirk as he snickered at the sight of your demoralized form.

"no more? is that what you want?" he watched as your head rubbed against the mattress in a nod and he chucked in a villainous way. "you'll get my dick as a punishment too, is that what you want?"

he watched again as you nodded, a wicked look on his face that you couldn't see. "so eager for cock, aren't you baby?"

with no question , his belt was now unbuckled and his dick was now out his pants, his bulbous tip aching to enter your hole. no matter how many times he's had you, you were always so tight, milking his dick like always.

his cock prods against your embarrassingly wet hole, the slick wetting his dick as he stroked himself behind you. "don't expect me to pleasure you, it's a punishment." his voice stern and blunt as he pushed half his tip into your hole, already getting the feeling of the warm embrace he would get once were finally in.

he couldn't wait. quickly, he slammed his hips against yours. the tightness even tighter than he had anticipated. he groaned, struggling a bit just to pull out as you whined. he yanked your head back once more, catching a glimpse of your already fucked out expression. "don't make me mad." he warned, slamming against you again.

his pace speeds up, slamming into you rhythmically as you moaned and whimpered out loud. he threw his hand over your mouth, muffling all the noises that escaped your mouth "fuck, why are you enjoying this? are you asking for another baby? well that's too bad because I'll pull out. "

he was lying, he knew he was lying. the only thing he wanted was to get you pregnant, at least just once more. maybe he'd get lucky enough to get a daughter this time. this time he'd test himself, see how long he'll last before completely bottoming out.

"n-no sir! please ah- don't pull out!" you cries were muffled yet beomgyu could hear you perfectly fine. he uncovered your mouth, still thrusting into like never before. you knew he only ever fucked you like this with the intention of getting you pregnant, it happened two time before.

"well disobedient wives don't get what they ask for, do they? shit..." he cursed under his breath, your walls clamped around him so good, he felt like he was on cloud nine. "don't be too loud, we got two kids sleeping." his groans sounded so sensual, they always did.

beomgyu felt his balls tighten, he knew he was close. he wondered how much longer it would be before he came inside of you. maybe a minute or two? maybe even less. "fuck why does your pussy have to feel so good, baby? it's not even a punishment at this point..." he was right, you were enjoying it more than you were supposed to.

instead of hating it, you were loving it. your moans just grew louder and louder, you even had to shove your face in the fluffled pillows to quiet yourself down.he

it was like a game to beomgyu. he was always trying to challenge himself to see how long he could last. but this time wasn't going to be like the past few times he lasted a good while. no, he was so close so fucking close. but he wouldn't admit that. why would he ever do that when you were being so disobedient yet wanting another baby from him?

with one smack on your ass, you were finished, cumming all over his cock as you squirmed underneath him. despite already being fucked out and so overstimulated, beomgyu kept going. you could tell he was already getting ready to cum. his breath became more jagged and heavy as he groaned louder, his grunts not failing to escape his lips with every thrust he gave.

and when you least expected it, he came inside. his warm sticky milk-like liquid spilling into you and filling you up to the brim. your eyes widened as you moaned out. he kept fucking into you, his hands on your ass as his thrusts slowed down and he was catching his breath. you turn your head and see beomgyu, his head thrown back, his adam's apple visible to the eye as it bobbed up and down with each of his pants.

"would you take getting round and pregnant again as a punishment?" beomgyu asked, his voice breathy from the activity he just endured.

"yes sir..." you nod gently, your voice soft as beomgyu kept his dick buried inside of you.

he leaned down and kissed your shoulder lovingly the opposite of the punishment you had not too long ago.

"that's my good wife, let's clean up and get to bed."

taglist! - @hyunj00 (please lmk if you want to be tagged in any of my future works!)

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yaniluvs · 18 hours ago

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lingering pats and stolen kisses 日 ── ot8 [hyung line] skz ; how is pda with your boyfriend?

𓍯 hyung-line idol!skz ʚଓ fem!reader ：（ 𝒾 ）0.7k ── ༯ HEADCANONS, tooth rotting fluff, kisses, hugs, established relationship, req. by anon . ⸝⸝𓂃 LiBRARY. /ᐠ.ꞈ.ᐟ\ྀིྀི

yani's note ˖˙ ᰋ and she makes a comeback !! i'm sorry for the sudden infamous inactive era AGAIN, the past two weeks were well.. very busy and i wasn't in the right headspace at all, but i'm better now! i was also binge reading the powerless trilogy so.. maybe expect some fics about it too? thank y'all for 430 followers <3 and thanks to anon for the request, hope you like it! comments, requests, asks, likes and reblogs are always appreciated ! comment/ask if you want to be added to my mastertag ! happy reading <3

chris ୨୧ he is definitely the type who does not give two shits. he will kiss you whenever he wishes to; at the recording studio, when 3racha and maybe even rest of his members are recording for the coming album; in breaks; during practice when you come visit him, or when you’re at his shared dorm with jeongin. this man will not hesitate once to pull you onto his lap, and pressing light, feather kisses to your lips, cheeks, nose, forehead, with soft pats on your head or middle. however it’s hard to miss how adorable he looks when crimson rises up his cheeks, ears and neck, grin widening as deep chuckles leave his mouth- followed by a glare, because seungmin probably calls you two grandparents or just him, an old man. he will get shy and flustered when his members tease him — but that won’t stop him from fulfilling his wishes, after some giggling !! he needs to have his arm around you, or fingers lacing yours or his on your thigh, at all times. a simple act that helps him ground, knowing you’re there with him. and of course, he will keep a limit to the pda, not wanting to cringe out or distract his members — or get himself carried away with you.

minho ୨୧ this man is definitely a ruthless tease. you're around him and the members, he's leaning in close, your noses touching. the next thing you know, he flicks your nose with that stupid grin on his face, sprinting away to continue practicing or whatever it was that he was doing. but the teasing ends soon, as he just can't help but be beside you all the time. have his hand on your lower back, hips (living up to the butthunter title), or even holding your hands if you're lucky. he will fold but pretend to act nonchalant when you give him a peck on the cheek- or lips.

changbin ୨୧ okay hmo. he loves loves LOVES back hugs. it doesn’t matter if he’s on the giving or receiving end. he just loves them. also forehead kisses and cuddling even if it’s brief !!!!!!!!!!!!!! he is down bad for physical affection, definitely. having you on his lap, or his arms around your waist, and caressing your skin. pecks on the lips for sure. he won’t mind the others but he will get shy but a little when the members tease him or hyunjin feigns hurt of his wife leaving him; only for you to fluster your boyfriend more after another kiss. a big baby, always wanting to be close to you. (dying rn)

hyunjin ୨୧ he is such a romantic guy. when it comes to pda, i think he's definitely very touchy. in a good way; he might be back-hugging you, resting his chin on your head or shoulder, or leaving a ghost of a kiss at the back of your neck, under your hairline. probably also likes if your fingers are intertwined too, with him kissing your knuckles. he will not leave your side, at all !!!!!!!!! you're like his personal lucky charm. maybe during a break from practice, he'll be showing you the new choreo and maybe even teaching it to you so you to try it.. but i bet the two of you will get carried away, and will either be making out very intimately or start ballroom-dancing while giggling like elementary kids. he really loves you and will show it every minute !!

mastertag ୨୧ @cosmicalily

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tfwbluu · 2 days ago

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KINKS

PAIRING — heeseung + f!reader

WARNINGS — praising/degrading, indirect mentions of exhibitionism, there’s safe words involved but its not directly mentioned

WORDCOUNT — 0.6K

NOTE — more kink talk people, u guys are Hornee. making a whole masterlist for all of enha for this so yeah. . lmk if i missed anything in the warnings !

He’s definitely a service top. Always prioritizes your pleasure over his own, because making you feel good gets him off too. The sweetest boy, he’d follow your lead but not without a bit of teasing here and there. Be a good girl, and he’ll treat you like royalty.

“Feels good, baby?” he asked, watching you writhe beneath him. “You sound so pretty… are you close? Cum f’ me.”

“Is this where you want me to touch?” he teased, rubbing your clothed pussy. “I need words, baby. Guide me, and I’ll follow every command.”

Hair pulling was his weakness. He loved the way it made you arch for him when he was pounding into you from behind, or how it gave him control when your lips were wrapped around him.

“Stop hiding, baby,” he growled, grabbing a fistful of your hair and pulling your face up. “Let me hear you.” Your choked moans spilled out, only fueling his desire.

Watching you suck his cock was a sight he couldn’t get enough of. “That’s it…” he groaned, his grip on your hair tightening as he started thrusting into your mouth, losing himself in the pleasure.

Lingerie. He loves when you’re all dolled up for him in the prettiest sets, especially after a long day. He’d worship your body, leaving marks on every inch of skin exposed. Tease him while he’s practicing—just a little peek of lace under comfy clothes—and he’d lose his mind, dragging you to the studio to fuck.

“Shit, baby. Did you have to tease me like that?” he muttered, gripping your neck as he pounded into you from behind. “Wearing slutty lingerie under baggy clothes? You planned this, didn’t you? Well, now take it.”

Cockwarming. Whether he’s gaming or producing, he loves having you cockwarm him. He’ll tease you with light thrusts, loving the way you yelp. If you get too needy and start moving, he’ll immediately abandon everything else and take you properly.

“Sit still, baby,” he murmured, holding your hips as you sank down on him. “Be good, and I’ll reward you.”

But when you couldn’t, he’d mute his mic and toss his headphones aside before fucking you properly.

“Couldn’t stay still, huh?” he growled, thrusting up into you. “Don’t want them hearing what a cockslut you are for me, hmm?”

“Fuck, if you’re needy, just say so,” he groaned, thrusting up into you, his headset forgotten.

He thrived on the balance between praising and degrading you, alternating between the two as he drove you insane. He’d worship how good you felt, only to follow it up by calling you a needy slut, loving the way you clenched around him whenever he whispered filthy things in your ear.

“Your pussy’s taking me so well, princess,” he murmured, his thumb teasing your clit. “Always such a slut for my cock, hmm?”

“Shit… just a cocksleeve for me, yeah? You like it when I use you, baby?” he groaned, smirking as he felt you tighten around him.

Considering how busy he was, he never hesitated to drag you somewhere for a quickie. He didn’t care who was around—he just needed to feel you. You could be a good girl and not get caught, right?

“Shh, baby,” he hushed, covering your mouth with his hand as he pounded into you against the wall. “Don’t want us getting caught, do you?” When he felt you clench, his smirk deepened. “Oh? Does getting caught turn you on? My dirty girl, wanna show everyone what a cockslut you are for me?”

Corruption was his favorite game. You could act all innocent for him, but he knew your body better than you knew it yourself. He adored watching you fall into his trap, craving him more with every touch.

“You can tell me to stop, and I will… but I know you won’t, right?” he teased, his lips brushing over your skin as his hands squeezed your breasts.

“Haa… that’s it, angel,” he murmured, his smile dark and full of intent as he finally tugged your panties off. “Let me take care of you, make you feel so good.”

“Too much?” he teased, a sly grin on his lips. “You know what to say if you want me to stop, angel… but you haven’t,” he murmured, his fingers curling inside you as he coaxed out more of your juices, the squelching sounds only fueling his pace.

TAGLIST — @starcrescentisz

#( tfwbluu )#enha x reader #enhypen smut #enha smut #heeseung x reader #heeseung smut #lee heeseung x reader #lee heeseung smut #enhypen hard hours #enhypen hard thoughts #heeseung hard hours #heeseung hard thoughts

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willowsnook · 2 days ago

Text

Comfort

request from @itznotsophia

lando norris x sainz!reader

I’d be insane not to love you

—————————————————————-

Happy tears streamed down your face as you watched your brother cross the finish line in Mexico. He needed this. Your whole family had flown out to the race, and you celebrated together in the garage before heading out to watch him on the podium.

This was the first race you had attended this year due to your hectic work schedule. Honestly, ever since you graduated high school you had only been able to make it to one or two races a season due to school or work. Right after graduating college, you took a job in investment banking in London. Your friends claimed you were a workaholic, but you loved being busy. You were living the big city career girl dream that you had always had.

Because of all this, watching Carlos take the win while you were there was even more special. He spun you around after the podium, and you laughed in his arms.

“My good luck charm,” he said, kissing the top of your head. “I’m glad you could come for this weekend.”

“Me too,” you said, smiling widely. You were the baby of the family, being 6 years younger than Carlos and the two of you had always had a special relationship despite the age gap. He really was your best friend.

Everyone headed back to the hotel to change and then head out for dinner. You changed out of your Ferrari jacket into a cuter outfit for dinner and then for what you assumed would happen afterward. Once you had freshened up, you headed down to the lobby, not seeing any of your family.

You looked around but only saw your brother’s friend and fellow driver, Lando, walking towards you. It had been a long time since you had been around him, and he definitely grew into himself over the years. You remembered when Carlos was at McLaren, you found him funny but very immature, so you never really gave him the time of day even though he followed you around like a lost puppy. He was a boy back then, but this was a man.

“Carlos had to head over there early to make the reservation time, so he tasked me with taking you,” he said once he reached you, with an easy-going smile.

“Wow, my Uber driver is professional? Lucky me,” you teased, and he chuckled. He hovered nervously near you, and you could tell he was deciding whether or not to give you a hug, so you made the decision for him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. “It’s good to see you Lan.”

“You too, y/n,” he replied, stepping back with a tint of pink on his cheeks. “Shall we?”

You took his arm and followed him out the door and into his car that had been pulled up. You caught up over the car ride to dinner, and he peppered you with questions about your job and living in London.

“You should hit up Max and Pietra to hang out sometime,” he said and you shrugged, looking out the window.

“There your friends Lan,” you said. “Do you think I don’t have any friends?”

“I just know that you’d like them,” he defended. “I’m sure you are friends with everyone you meet.”

You smiled at the compliment and agreed to text Pietra when you were back to grab a coffee or something. You and Lando were the last to arrive, and he beat you to the seat next to Carlos, throwing you a cheeky smile over his shoulder. You rolled your eyes but sat beside him, across from Rebecca. Dinner was full of conversation and laughter, and your heart felt full.

After everyone finished up, the group headed to a nearby club to actually start celebrating. There were tons of paparazzi at the entrance, and you fiddled anxiously with your hands. This is something you did not miss about being around your brother. Lando was sitting next to you in the car and grabbed your hand to make you stop fidgeting.

“Just stick to my side yeah?” He said, and you nodded. Pulling to the front, he got out and handed his keys off before coming to your door. You let him take your hand and move into his side, his arm holding you close as he shielded you from the flashes. You smiled appreciatively at him once you made it to the group.

“Thanks Lan,” you said and he smiled back. Your brother was watching this interaction like a hawk but you missed seeing Rebecca elbow him in the ribs to get him to stop. Grabbing her arm, you dragged her to the bar to get a drink.

“So Lando huh,” she teased and you rolled your eyes.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you hummed, refusing to look at her.

“Carlos said that he still looks at you like he did back when you were 19.”

“No he doesn’t,” you argued. “He is my brother’s best friend and that’s all.”

She gave you a small smirk, clearly not believing you, and you groaned before handing her a shot. “No more talking about him.”

An hour later you were very tipsy and jumping around dancing with your family. You were too drunk to notice that Lando had been watching you while sipping on his drink, half listening to Carlos. Carlos however, did notice.

“Are you serious mate?” He asked, and Lando’s attention snapped back to your brother, who was glaring at him. “Eye-fucking my sister in front of me?”

Lando’s face blushed a deep red. “I am not.”

Carlos raised an eyebrow skeptically. "Right. And I'm not a Formula 1 driver."

Lando sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Look, I'm sorry. I know she's your sister. I just... I can't help it. She's amazing, Carlos. She always has been"

Carlos's expression softened slightly. "I know she is. But Lando, be careful. She's not just some girl you can mess around with. She's family."

"I would never hurt her," Lando said earnestly. "You know me better than that."

Just then, you stumbled over to them, giggling. "What are you boys talking about so seriously? It's a party!"

You threw your arms around both of their shoulders, oblivious to the tension. Carlos shot Lando a warning look over your head.

"Nothing important, hermanita," Carlos said, and you turned your attention to Lando.

"Dance with me?" you asked, holding out your hand. Lando hesitated for a moment, his eyes darting to Carlos, who just rolled his eyes and stalked away towards Rebecca.

"I don't know if that's a good idea," he said, but you could see the longing in his eyes.

"Come on, Lan. It's just a dance," you insisted, grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the crowd.

As you moved together to the beat, you felt the heat between your bodies intensify. His hands reached your waist, and you turned around, leaning your back into his chest. Feeling his breath hot on your neck, you turned your head up to look at him. His pupils were blown wide with desire,e but you knew he was holding back.

“You are asking for your brother to literally rip my head off,” he complained and you laughed loudly.

“Tell me you don’t want me,” you said, turning your whole body back to face him.

“You know I do,” he said huskily. Moving on your tiptoes, you pressed your lips gently against his, and you smirked against his lips as you heard your name being angrily called out.

“I’d start running now,” you told Lando as his eyes widened seeing Carlos marching towards the two of you. He gave you one last kiss before peeling off.

“Dios mio y/n,” your brother said, putting both his arms on your shoulders to shake you. “Remember what I told you when you were 18? No F1 drivers!"

“I’m not 18 anymore Carlos,” you said in a singsong voice to him. “But don’t worry, we don’t even see each other outside of you.”

“Keep it that way,” he said sternly.

The next morning you woke up hungover and embarrassed. You dug Lando’s number out of your contacts list and shot him a quick text apologizing to which he replied you can kiss me anytime ;)

—————————————————————

Life went back to normal when you got back to London with the exception of talking to Lando more. You had been casually texting, and you started to look forward to the end of your workdays to hear about his day.

After the Brazil race he had been radio silent. You had sent him a text right after, telling him to keep his head up and that he still was amazing but he had only liked the message. Honestly, you didn’t think much about his silence; you had only just reconnected, so you were very used to life without Lando Norris in it.

The following week, you had finally texted Pietra and met up with her for happy hour. It had been a long time since you had seen her, having met her through Lando all those years ago. The two of you spent hours catching up before he came up.

“Have you heard from Lando?” She asked while you were getting out your purse to pay your tab.

“Not since before the Brazil race, why?” You asked, meeting her worried eyes.

“He had mentioned that you guys had been talking more after Mexico, so I hoped he would reach out to you after Brazil.”

“Is something wrong?”

“I’m not sure,” Pietra said, biting her lip. “He hasn’t really been responding to Max and hasn’t been on any of the games. Max is worried. Could you call him or something?”

“Why me?” You asked, surprised. Pietra didn’t say anything for a minute, clearly battling with something internally.

“He’s different around you,” she finally said. “I think he might actually answer if you call.”

Her words sat with you the rest of the night, and as you were getting ready for bed, you decided to give in. You leaned against your headboard and hit the Facetime button, prepared to be declined. Right at the last ring, Lando’s face filled your screen, and your heart sank. He looked terrible. Dark circles around his eyes and messy hair. He was also lying in bed, but you could tell you hadn’t woken him up.

“Hi Lan,” you said softly.

“What’s up?” He asked, tiredness evident in his voice.

“Just calling to check in with you,” you said.

“I’m fine.” He replied shortly.

“Try again," you countered. He didn’t say anything for a couple of minutes and you waited out the silence.

“Okay, I’m not fine,” he said sighing. “I haven’t been able to sleep or eat much really.”

“Did you have dinner?” You questioned and he shook his head.

“I don’t have an appetite. I don’t want to talk about Brazil. Can you just talk to me about your week?”

You nodded and started to fill him in on everything that happened the past week and getting to catch up with Pietra. While you were talking, you put in an UberEats order to his place after getting his address from Max. He listened intently to you, making more comments as time went on, and you were happy to be a distraction.

“Are you coming to Vegas?” He asked and you shook your head.

“No, I’ll be at Qatar though.”

“Okay,” he said pouting. You could hear his doorbell ring in the background and he excused himself for a minute. When he came back, there was an unrecognizable look on his face as he picked the phone back up. “Did you order me food?”

“Mm-hmm,” you hummed, scrolling through social media on your phone. “You need to eat.”

“What’s next, going to stick Carlos on me to drag me out of my place?” He asked and you looked over at him.

“That’s not a bad idea,” you said and he groaned.

“I wish you were here,” he said quietly and you gave him a sad smile.

“Me too.”

——————————————————-

Qatar was very exciting for Ferrari, but your own celebrating was dulled because of what happened during Lando’s race. You followed Rebecca to your brother’s driver's room when he got back, and he was in mostly good spirits, but Carlos was usually positive about everything.

When the three of you were finally heading out, you ran into Oscar who was looking for Carlos. The two men talked quietly, and you were only able to pick up bits and pieces.

“…he won’t talk to anyone…could you try?”

“yeah…what hotel room is he in?”

Oscar said goodbye and you looked quizzically at Carlos.

“What’s wrong?”

“Lando is just being hard on himself as usual,” he replied casually but you could tell that it was worse than normal. The car ride to the hotel was silent, as your brother was worried about his friend. Once you go there, you started to head to your own room, but Carlos stopped you.

“Why don’t you just come with me?” He asked and you nodded, following him to the elevator.

Carlos knocked on Lando’s door, and you stood out of the way while trying to assess the situation.

“Hey man, I just wanted to check on you,” Carlos said.

“You didn’t need to, I’m fine,” Lando replied but the tremble in his voice told you otherwise. Carlos stepped to the side, and the second Lando saw you, his face crumpled.

“Oh Lan,” you murmured, closing the gap between you and wrapping your arms around him. He buried his head into your neck, letting out small sobs and you felt your heart breaking.

“It’s all my fault,” he cried and you rubbed his back soothingly.

“It’s not your fault Lan,” you whispered. “It was just unlucky. The season isn’t over.”

“It feels like it is,” he said, holding on to you tightly. Carlos mouthed that he was going to go and you nodded a goodbye before gently guiding Lando back into his hotel room, closing the door behind you. He reluctantly let go of you, wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand. You took in his disheveled appearance - he was still in his race suit, hair messy, and eyes red-rimmed from crying.

"Let's get you cleaned up, okay?" you said softly. Lando nodded, letting you lead him to the bathroom. You turned on the shower and helped him out of his race suit. Under normal circumstances, this level of intimacy might have felt awkward, but right now your only concern was taking care of him.

"I'll be right outside if you need anything," you told him. He gave you a small, grateful smile before stepping into the shower.

While Lando showered, you busied yourself tidying up the room and ordering room service. You knew he probably hadn't eaten anything, he clearly has gone straight from the debrief to here.

His phone rang, and you peeked to see that Max was calling. You answered, feeling like Lando wouldn’t mind.

“Hey Max, it’s y/n,” you greeted.

“Hey, how is he?” Max asked, concern lacing his voice.

“Not great but getting better,” you told him. “I just ordered room service and he’s getting cleaned up.”

“Good, try and get him to join me on Tarkov when he’s done, I think it might help,” he said.

“I can do that,” you replied.

“Thanks for being there y/n, you mean a lot to him,” Max said softly.

“Of course, I’ll talk to you later.”

It didn’t take much convincing to get Lando to join the stream, though he kept his camera off, which you appreciated. You sat on his bed behind him, reading a book you had gone to get from your own room. Every once in a while,e he would turn to look at you, a small smile gracing his face.

When it hit midnight you were dead tired and started to gather your things to leave.

“Can you stay?” Lando asked quietly.

You hesitated for a moment, your heart racing at his request. "Are you sure?" you asked softly.

Lando nodded, his eyes pleading. "Please. I just... I don't want to be alone right now."

You set your bag back down and gave him a small smile. "Okay, I'll stay."

Relief washed over his face as he turned back to his game. You settled back onto the bed, trying to get comfortable. After a while, Lando finally logged off and joined you on the bed, lying down next to you but keeping a respectful distance.

"Thank you," he murmured into the darkness. "For everything today."

You rolled onto your side to face him. "That's what friends are for, Lan."

He was quiet for a moment before speaking again. "Is that what we are? Just friends?"

Your breath caught in your throat at the question and his eyes bored into yours.

“I don’t know,” you answered honestly. “Are we?”

“I’d be insane to not want more with you,” he admitted.

Your heart raced at Lando's admission. You reached out tentatively, gently cupping his cheek with your hand. "Lando, I..."

He leaned into your touch, his eyes fluttering closed for a moment. When he opened them again, they were filled with hope and vulnerability, making your chest tighten.

"I want more too," you whispered. "But I'm scared. This could complicate so many things - your friendship with Carlos, my relationship with my brother, your career..."

Lando nodded, understanding in his eyes. "I know. Trust me, I've thought about all of that. But y/n, being with you... it would be worth it. You're worth it."

He inched closer to you on the bed, your faces now just inches apart. "We could take it slow," he suggested. "Figure things out together. I need you by my side.”

Instead of answering with words, you leaned in and pressed your lips to his. The kiss was soft and tender at first, but soon grew more passionate as the two of you gave in to your feelings for each other.

“You have to tell Carlos though,” you said as you pulled back and Lando rested his forehead against yours groaning.

“You’re lucky I’ve been waiting for this,” he said pouting, pulling you into his chest. You enjoyed the peacefulness of the rest of the night before the inevitable chaos would occur the next day.

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #lando norris #lando norris x reader

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