#i mentioned it briefly before but i do simply want to say that there is a reason why i do not answer messages anymore
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Sonic and reader becomes friends!
would shadow get jealous? Like his lover just became friends with his enemy lol
the shock on Sonic’s face learning g shadow has a lover lol
also I don’t know if it went through but I asked you to marry me
Authors note: Put a ring on it @luc1dw0rld
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sonic’s room was its usual chaos: posters plastered on the walls, random gadgets scattered on every surface, and a distinct smell of chili dogs lingering in the air. You were sprawled on his bed, flipping through a comic book while he sat cross-legged on the floor, engrossed in his own.
“Okay, but tell me this,” Sonic said, pointing to a panel in his comic. “How does this dude survive getting thrown into a volcano? Like, plot armor is one thing, but come on.”
You snorted, not even looking up from your page. “He’s the main character, Sonic. Logic doesn’t apply to him.”
“Still dumb,” he muttered, flicking the page with unnecessary force. You glanced at your watch, and your eyes widened. “Oh, shit! I have to leave and get ready for my date.”
Sonic looked up from his comic, raising an eyebrow. “Still can’t believe you’re dating Shadow.” You rolled your eyes with a grin, heading for the door. “You’ve said that every time I’ve mentioned him. I don't see what's so unbelievable."
“I dunno,” Sonic said, shrugging. “He’s just so... serious. And, like, broody and grumpy and you're....not. It’s weird.” You smirked. “Opposites attract, Sonic.”
He rolled his eyes but grinned. “Whatever. Tell him I said hi. And tell him not to glare at me next time we’re in the same room.”
“Will do, see ya later,” you called over your shoulder as you grabbed your things and headed out the door.
-----
By the time you got back to your place, the evening sky was painted in hues of orange and pink. Unlocking the door, you stepped inside, expecting to find Shadow waiting as he usually did. Sure enough, there he was—sitting on your couch with his arms crossed and an unmistakable pout on his face.
“Hey,” you greeted warmly, setting your bag down. “You’re early.” Shadow’s crimson eyes flicked toward you briefly before he looked away. “Hmph.”
You raised an eyebrow, stepping closer. “What’s with the attitude? Something happen?”
“It’s nothing,” he replied curtly, though the slight furrow of his brow said otherwise. You sighed, sitting down next to him. “Shadow, no offense but you'rea terrible lair. So spill.”
He didn’t respond immediately, his gaze fixed on the coffee table. Finally, he muttered, “You were with Sonic earlier.” You blinked, caught off guard. “Yeah? We were just hanging out and reading comics. Why?”
Shadow shifted uncomfortably, his arms tightening over his chest. “…You spend a lot of time with him.” Realization dawned on you, and you couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips. “Wait. Are you jealous?”
Shadow’s eyes snapped to yours, his expression a mix of indignation and embarrassment. “I am not jealous.”
“You totally are,” you teased, leaning closer. “You’re sulking because I was with Sonic. Admit it.”
“I don’t sulk,” he grumbled, but the faint blush dusting his cheeks betrayed him. You laughed softly, reaching out to rest a hand on his arm.
“Shadow, you have nothing to worry about. Sonic’s my best friend, yeah, but you’re the one I’m dating. You’re the one I want to be with because I love you.”
He glanced at you, his expression softening just slightly. You don't miss the way his shoulders loose their tension, what you don't know is how his heart rate spikes every time you say that “…It’s irrational,” he admitted quietly.
“Very,” you agreed, grinning. The tension in his posture easing as he leaned back against the couch. “I just don’t understand how someone like him can take up so much of your attention.”
“Well, he’s my friend,” you said simply, “but you’re the one I am lucky enough to be dating.” He didn’t respond immediately, but the small hum he gave you was enough to know he understood.
You leaned your head against his shoulder, a warm silence settling between you. After a moment, you added playfull, "It’s kind of cute seeing you like this.”
Shadow rolled his eyes but couldn’t stop the faint smirk from appearing on his face. “You’re insufferable.”
“And yet, here you are,” you teased, earning a quiet chuckle from him as the sun dipped below the horizon.
After a moment of comfortable silence you hear Shadow mumble something under his breath that makes your heart swell, "I love you to."
#Shadow x reader#shadow the hedeghog#shadow the hedgehog#shadow the ultimate lifeform#sonic series#sonic live action#Sonic 3#Sonic universe#Sonic universe x reader#Sonic universe fluff#Shadow fluff#Shadow x reader fluff#Live action Shadow#sonic the hedgehog#sonic fanfiction
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Doting wife p2
Royal au! Sukuna x Reader
Sukuna sat on his throne, his face intense as his son plays around him. His advisors standing quietly in front him their heads bowed. His mind lingered on the event that was a couple weeks ago. Since then, he has not stopped.
Every dinner, he makes sure that whatever is served is to your liking, just to see your happy silent reaction when eating. He has ordered the servants to tend to the royal gardens, to plant specific flowers according to your preferences. Just to watch you walk around the garden with your son and enjoy the flowers. He made you go horse riding with him, just to talk about things you liked.
During his meetings with his advisors he would call for you and ask your opinion on certain matters in his meetings with his advisors.
Yet he knows you still hold yourself back around him, he knows you silently enjoy the effort he is putting despite getting onto him during the event. Though your silent enjoyment and appreciation is enough for him. He longs for more.
He longs for you to willing spend time with him again. He longs for your attention and care he had stupidly taken granted for.
His mind settles back into reality as one of his advisors had briefly mentioned about getting his son's portrait painted for his fourth birthday. There it struck sukuna.
-
You huffed as you stood by your mirror, as your lady in waiting examined the maids handling your gown ensuring it was perfect for the portrait. As they tended your hair, and make up, you looked at yourself in the mirror. Several hours alone with Sukuna. You pondered 'why' ever since you got the news that Sukuna had requested a new royal portrait of you two. You had one which was done a couple days after your wedding and not one since. So why one now?
Lost in thought, the maids finished and you made your way mindlessly towards the main hall, with your lady in waiting behind you. As you looked up, the painter smiled at you motioning you to sit next to Sukuna, as he is ready to paint. Your lady in waiting helped you up to your seat, whilst doing some finishing touches and ensured your dress was quite fine as she walked back to the painter as he started sketching.
The first few minutes, was met with silence. You remained still, only toying with the ring on your finger, as the only thing heard in the room was the harsh streaks of the pencil against the canvas.
"You look beautiful" he utters out quietly for you both to hear. You simply nod in response.
Sukuna tries to carry the conversation by asking how your day had been, if you had eaten, or how your son was and what he did. Till he softly sighs and glances at you.
"I miss you." he says.
"I am right here husband.. no need to miss me" You say without much emotion not wanting to be vulnerable.
"you know what I mean..." as he looks back up.
"I see how your face lights up at dinner, I watch how you enjoy your time in the gardens with our son. How you only like reading a certain genre of books.. how you only like to drink tea in the evening after dinner...how you despise insects after our horse riding trip."
He hesistatess before continuing.
"I wish you would share such moments with me again.. instead of me observing it from a distance. I want to hear how much you like the food that has been served. I want to walk along with you in the gardens with our son, as you ramble on whatever it is you like.. I want to drink tea with you- I just want to be with you again..."
You sat next to him somewhat speechless. Your hand gripping on the ring on your finger tightens as you take a sharp inhale and exhale holding composure.
"Why.. why has it taken you this long." Quickly and quietly you ask not wanting your voice to break. As your eyes remain on the painter and your lady in waiting. Afraid if you lay your eyes upon your husband tears will rush out.
"I have no excuse my wife.. the best way I can put it into words for you, is watching a candle burn down to its final flicker. Once it's gone and the darkness closes in, you finally understand how much that small, steady glow meant. You were that light in my life.. and i took it for granted."
He sighs as he continues "I am sorry it has taken me to loose you to understand the importance you hold in my life"
As he rests his large hand over yours.
"I may not have given you the love you well deserved over the past four years, but let me make the most of the years we have left to make it up to you. I will take however long it takes."
His hand wraps round yours as he takes it up and gently places a kiss on your knuckles. A tear slips down your face, which you quickly wipe away.
"it won't be easy-" you try to say yet Sukuna interrupts you.
"I know my sweet wife.. I know." As you finally look at him, his deep crimson eyes resting on yours. A quiet pull to one another, urging to be met.
Yet the moment broken by the painter looking up and exclaiming.
"Yes, yes, yes, the look of love keep that look your majesties, I need exactly that! and just you wait your portrait will overshadow any other." He says happily as he starts to paint.
Sukuna face having a subtle annoyance stretched over it, you chuckle quietly.
After the tedious hours of sitting for this portrait ends. The only thing keeping you going was your small conversations with Sukuna, as he his hand remained on yours not wanting to let go. You both walk over to see the work of art. As it depicted you sat facing forward with a soft smile on your face, with Sukuna next to you his hand over yours with his eyes on you.
An arm wrap around your waist, as Sukuna praises the painter.
"You definitely did outdo yourself, look at my wife" he exclaims as he looks at you. Not used to his attention you awkwardly chuckle and avoid his look. His hand grabbing your chin pulling your face up as he places a kiss on your forehead.
"My beautiful wife... you know what let's hold a celebration." Your eyes widen at the sudden plan.
"Over a portrait- no- that's too much." you interject.
"Hush, once people set their eyes upon this portrait they will understand why I had to hold such a celebration" Sukuna smirks at you.
You try to continue, but Sukuna doesn't let you as he looks at your lady in waiting.
"Next Wednesday I want the celebration, ensure my wife glows I want it to be about her-" As you try to speak Sukuna keeps cutting in on what to do for the event.
"Next Wednesday is my birthday!'" A small angry voice is heard, you laugh as your son did what you couldn't. He runs over as Sukuna picks up him.
"Apologises brat, then let it be his birthday AND a celebration-" Sukuna orders as your son continues to whine that it is his birthday.
In that moment, everything goes silent on your mind, as your gaze fixed on your husband and son, as you anxiously anticipated the oncoming years on your relationship with your husband.
The new painting embarking a new chapter in your rekindled love.
part 1
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Authors note: OMLLLL thank you all so much for enjoying the first part guys oml- and im so sorry this took long to come out I was kinda busy w work and shii loool also like I was kinda stumped on how to continue this from the first chapter as I really didn't think further to continue it till ppl started asking for it. So, i am sorry if it seems a bit rushed. But I do hope this chapter does some sort of justice but unfortutnately I will only be leaving it at 2 parts and nothing more.
- R
#ryomen sukuna x reader#ryomen sukuna x you#sukuna x reader#sukuna x you#ryomen x reader#ryomen sukuna#jujutsu sukuna#jjk fanfic#jjk sukuna#sukuna#sukuna x y/n#sukuna x oc#sukuna ryomen#sukuna fluff#ryoumen sukuna#jjk x reader
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Saving Grace || CEO!Rafe Cameron x fem!reader
Summary: When Rafe Cameron’s infamous temper threatens to derail the entire office, his wife is called in as the only person who can bring him back to earth.
Warnings: none!
Word count: 2,051
MASTERLIST
Rafe Cameron could be described in many ways: arrogant, sharp-tongued, perpetually stone-faced, and infamously hot-headed. His temper was a ticking time bomb, always moments away from detonation. It didn’t take much to set him off—a missed detail, an oversight, or even the wrong tone of voice—and once his mood soured, it had a ripple effect on everyone within his orbit.
If Rafe was in a foul mood, the entire office braced itself for the storm, knowing they’d bear the brunt of his frustration. Productivity stalled, morale plummeted, and an oppressive tension hung heavy in the air. No one dared to ask if he was okay or offer to fix the issue—it was simply understood that his temper had to run its course.
But there was one person who had mastered the art of disarming the bomb: his assistant, Rachael. If anyone in the office had something to say about Rachael, it was that she knew Rafe Cameron far too well. She had an uncanny ability to read his moods and an arsenal of strategies for defusing them. Most importantly, she understood the one surefire way to calm Rafe down: his wife.
The woman who he worshipped the ground she walked on, mother to his children, and the only person Rafe Cameron seemed to hold above all else. No matter how irritable or unapproachable he became, the mere mention of her name was enough to shift the atmosphere. So when Rachael watched one of her coworkers stumble out of Rafe’s office, barely holding back tears, she knew it was time to intervene.
Her sharp eyes scanned the room, noting the nervous glances exchanged between staff members who were all too aware of the storm brewing behind Rafe’s closed door. Without missing a beat, Rachael grabbed her phone, dialling a number she had memorised long ago. As the call connected, her tone softened—a stark contrast to the sharp efficiency she displayed in the office.
“Hi, Mrs. Cameron,” she began, her voice carrying a mixture of urgency and familiarity. “I hate to bother you, but it’s one of those days. If you’re free, I think a quick word with Rafe might do the trick.” She paused, listening intently before smiling to herself. Rachael didn’t need to explain much; Mrs. Cameron always seemed to know exactly how to handle her husband.
And while the office might dread Rafe’s infamous outbursts, Rachael found comfort in knowing there was someone who could bring the man back down to earth. She let out a small sigh of relief when she heard your calm, reassuring voice on the other end of the line. “I’ll be right there,” you said, your tone steady but with a hint of warmth that was reserved for conversations about your husband.
Without hesitation, you grabbed your car keys, slipping on a pair of heels as you prepared to leave. It wasn’t the first time you’d been called in to play peacemaker, and it likely wouldn’t be the last. Rafe’s temper was legendary, but you knew how to navigate it better than anyone else. You’d seen him at his worst, the raw edges of his frustration and anger, but you also knew the softer side of him—the part that melted when you walked into a room, the man who looked at you like you hung the stars in the sky.
As you slid into the driver’s seat, your thoughts briefly flickered to your children, safely at home with the nanny. You didn’t want to leave them, but you also understood that Rafe needed you. He might not admit it outright, especially not in front of his staff, but the subtle ways he sought you out after a rough day spoke volumes.
~
As you walked toward your husband’s office, the energy in the space shifted noticeably. Heads turned, relief washing over faces that had been tense just moments before. Hushed whispers followed in your wake, employees murmuring their gratitude for the one person who could tame the storm that was Rafe Cameron. Even without uttering a word, your presence commanded respect—graceful yet undeniably authoritative.
“You have no idea how happy I am to see you, Mrs. Cameron,” Rachael said as she stood from her desk, her tone filled with a mixture of hope and exhaustion. “He’s in his office, and he’s miserable in there.” You glanced through the glass wall into Rafe’s office. Rachael hadn’t exaggerated—his frustration was palpable. The furrow of his brow, the tight set of his jaw, and the restless movements of his hands screamed of a man on the verge of losing his patience entirely.
You offered Rachael a small, reassuring smile before making your way to the door, your heels clicking softly against the polished floor. You didn’t bother knocking—Rafe hated formalities when it came to you. The heavy sigh he let out at the sound of the door opening was immediate. His eyes remained locked on the papers scattered across his desk, his tone sharp and cold.
“I thought I said I didn’t want to be disturbed.” A small smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you stepped inside. “Does that include me?” you asked, your voice sweet and smooth, cutting through the tension. Rafe’s head snapped up at the sound of your voice, his piercing blue eyes meeting yours. Instantly, his rigid posture softened, and the weight on his shoulders seemed to lift.
The frustration etched into his features melted away, replaced by a look that could only be described as unguarded affection. Just your presence had the power to undo him. Without a word, Rafe reached behind his desk and flicked a switch, causing the glass walls of his office to turn frosted, granting the two of you privacy. His voice softened, tinged with genuine curiosity and concern.
“What are you doing here, baby?" You walked around his desk, your movements fluid and deliberate, and Rafe turned in his chair to face you fully. Standing in front of him, you saw the shift in his expression—the hard edges of his day crumbling as he looked up at you. And there it was, the look that never failed to steal your breath.
No matter how difficult or frustrating his day had been, Rafe always looked at you like you were his entire world, as though you hung the moon and stars just for him. In his eyes, there was nothing but pure, unfiltered love—a stark contrast to the icy exterior he showed everyone else. You leaned down, your fingers brushing lightly against his jaw as you pressed a gentle kiss to his lips.
His shoulders visibly relaxed at the familiar touch, the tension from his day dissolving. “You’re scaring your employees,” you teased softly, your words accompanied by a light chuckle as you straightened up. Rafe let out a dramatic sigh, leaning back in his chair and rolling his eyes. “They’re ridiculous,” he muttered, his tone laced with both irritation and amusement.
“They’re terrified,” you corrected, folding your arms and raising a brow at him. “I saw one of them practically in tears.” Rafe groaned, rubbing a hand over his face. “It’s not my fault they can’t handle a little pressure.” You gave him a knowing look, stepping closer and resting your hands on the armrests of his chair, effectively boxing him in. “Rafe, you can be a little… intense,” you said gently, your eyes locking with his. “And by ‘a little,’ I mean a lot.”
His lips quirked into a smirk, his hands instinctively finding your waist. “You don’t seem scared of me,” he said, his voice dropping into a softer, almost teasing tone. “That’s because I know the real you,” you replied, brushing a strand of hair out of his face. “The one who spoils me, reads bedtime stories to the kids, and eats all the burnt pancakes I make without complaining.”
He let out a low chuckle, the sound rumbling from his chest. “You know I love those burnt pancakes,” he murmured, tugging you closer until you were practically sitting on his lap. “Hmm,” you hummed playfully, trailing your fingers along the lapel of his blazer. “Maybe I should remind your staff that under all that brooding, you’re just a big softie.”
“Don’t you dare,” he warned, though his smirk betrayed the emptiness of his threat. You laughed softly, pressing another kiss to his lips before pulling back just enough to meet his gaze. “Then maybe try to be a little nicer? For me?” He sighed, feigning reluctance, but the way his hands tightened on your waist betrayed his surrender. “Fine,” he said, his tone mockingly begrudging. “But only because you asked so nicely.”
“That’s all I needed to hear,” you said with a satisfied smile, brushing your thumb against his cheek. “Now, why don’t you take a break? Let me help you relax before you scare anyone else.” Rafe’s smirk softened into a genuine smile, the love in his eyes shining brighter than ever. “You really are my saving grace,” he murmured, his voice low and sincere.
#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x reader#outer banks#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron x you#fanfiction#obx fanfiction#drew starkey#drew starkey x reader#drew starkey x y/n#rafe cameron fanfic#rafe cameron obx#obx rafe cameron#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron outer banks#rafe cameron au#rafe cameron fic#rafe cameron x fem!reader#rafe cameron x kook!reader#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron x female reader#drew starkey x you#drew starkey x female reader#drew starkey fic#drew starkey fanfiction#drew starkey imagine#outerbanks x you#outerbanks rafe#outerbanks fanfiction#outerbanks x reader
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Mr. Take Your Bitch
Pairing: Idol! Jungkook x Reader
Word Count: 8.2k
Content Warning: jk is a little cocky, player! jk, reader gets flustered so easily, jk is such a tease, smooth talker jk, clubbing, ft bts, interviews, reader is small (like 5'1), insults, alcohol consumption, infidelity, readers boyfriend is an asshole, mentions of smoking, impulsive jk, what happens in vegas stays in vegas, messyyy, suggestive themes, sweet gestures.
Other Content: hair pulling, manhandling, oral sex (f! receiving), squirting, missionary, jk splits reader in half, big dick! jk, doggy style, dacryphilia, praise and degradation, cream pies, minor possessive jk, unprotected sex (be better than them), recording.
"How do I look?" Sunny tosses the perfectly sculpted curls in her hair once more, pouting in the dressing room mirror, making sure that not a strand was out of place.
"For the eighth time, you look great, as always." She stands, her red off-the-shoulder top accenting her white pencil skirt and perfect figure, she really did look gorgeous. "Great isn't enough. This is the first time I'm interviewing THE BTS. I need to look perfect."
"You do. I promise." You reassure with a comforting right hand on her shoulder while you center her necklace with your left. "Y/n, we need you out here to help set up." Your manager cracks the door open to call for you briefly before leaving.
"I still cannot believe you dragged me into this coffee girl job just for you to get close to Namjoon." Sunny's full lips stretch from ear to ear showing off her million-dollar smile, "What's so wrong about me wanting you nearby for emotional support? But at least I got you a job out of it, 3 weeks ago you were on the brink of poverty.'' Her arms crossed and you had to admit, she did have a point.
"What was the whole point of this again?" You simply had to ask, remembering the midnight phone call Sunny surprised you with about a month ago when she landed the Hybe interviewer position.
"Remember the story I told you about, in Junior year, me and this boy from math camp snuck out 6 miles away with fake IDs and got shitfaced at the nearest bar then hooked up but I never got his name and he was in the middle of signing my journal we were interrupted and I never saw him again until-"
"You saw Namjoon's face on a billboard in Seoul, and you took this opportunity to get close to see if it was him or not. Yes, I remember now, it's all coming back to me." You finish her story for her.
"Exactly, and-"
"--Y/n, sometime today would be great." Your manager interrupts once again and you leave, apologizing frantically for making them wait, not wanting to lose this job. It actually paid pretty well considering all you did was make drinks.
Walking out of the dressing room, ignoring the buzz in the back pocket of your jeans as you followed your manager to the coffee cart offset. Although from here you had a perfect view of where the interview would take place.
They set it up to be very stylish and modern with BTS albums and concept photos placed strategically around the set within the camera shot. Along with a small coffee table, one chair on one side where Sunny would sit and seven on the other side.
It almost gave you chills to think about. The fact that in a few moments, the most popular boy band in the continent would be sitting right there. All seven of them, including the tempting one.
The one who makes you stumble over your words every time he comes down to the first floor to get a coffee even though there's a gazillion other places to get something to drink in the building.
Every time you see him, he's displaying a new style. Sometimes he comes down stacked with complex layers of clothing and covered in jewelry, or with nothing more than a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, although the latter was possibly the worst of your few interactions. He's just so handsome, it made you want to squirm.
That day he was saying all the right things, yet saying nothing at all. Asking you simple questions like when you started working here, and if you liked coffee, meanwhile all you could mutter was an embarrassing 'yes'. What exactly you were saying yes to? You may never know.
You turned your back to the set and focused on making the pre-ordered drinks the members had sent down with their manager beforehand. By the time you turned back around Sunny was sitting in her place, anxious but ready.
You've been best friends since the 6th grade. She's incredibly outgoing and sociable, a balancing contrast to your more introverted nature although you could be a little extroverted with some alcohol in your system.
She was born for this job, you're sure she'll kill the interview. She mentioned that she'd bumped into a few of the members since she started working a month ago, but not Namjoon.
She definitely underestimated how hard it would be to 'bump' into a man who is guarded by security constantly and extremely busy, not to mention rarely in the country.
Hoseok was the first one to walk in, looking sharp as ever in casual attire but he he made it look incredible. Next was Jimin, and you noticed the way Sunny's eyes nearly widened when she finally saw Namjoon walk in behind Tae.
Finally, they were all inside and all greeted Sunny with a friendly hug and you can see she enjoyed her hug with Namjoon a little too much. Somehow finding something small to laugh about with him as they pulled away.
With an empty cup in your hand, you watched the most handsome group of men you've ever seen, file into the room and take a seat. "Go set these down before cameras start rolling." You feel a tap on your shoulder from another worker.
Did you zone out?
You placed a firm hand on your chest, taking a deep breath before placing a sturdy grip on the handles of the cart and bringing their beverages over. 'One foot in front of the other' you remind yourself, doing your best to ignore the feeling of their gazes turning to you as you got closer.
Unable to look any of them in the eyes as you set down their drinks on the table saying the name of each one so they know which one is theirs.
You could feel his gaze on you whilst Sunny got to witness it first hand from where she sat. The way his jaw slowly clenches with each passing moment, watching you with dark, intense eyes. In that moment, the world around him blurred, and all that remained was the captivating image of you.
It was while you were placing down the final cup that you felt bold enough to finally look up from the table, glancing at Jimin who was talking to Hoseok on his right. Slowly your line of sight inches up and over his head to Jungkook who was sitting on a taller chair behind him.
He was looking right at you.
And that was more than enough for you to return to the cart and retreat to your station. The boys reached for their cups as the countdown to the interview began.
You watched with engaged eyes from the sidelines as the interview began, going through basic introductions and standard questions, you were listening along to the jokes made along the way.
It seemed they were having a great time out there, but you couldn't focus on all of them for too long. You wouldn't be doing your duties as Sunny's best friend if you didn't watch Namjoon's every move; including how he seemed to be the first one to answer almost any of her questions.
The questions were flying by and the discussion was so entertaining to watch but it was over before you even registered it. Sure, cameras had stopped rolling but they were all still talking.
You felt another buzz in your pocket, finally deciding to check.
Daehyun: Are you still mad? It's been 2 days, you're being dramatic. 12:02 pm
Daehyun: Why aren't you answering my texts? 1:12 pm
Daehyun: Fine. Keep ignoring me. Real mature, Y/n. 1:13 pm
You scoff at the messages.
Unbelievable.
Your boyfriend has left you astonished. Again!
You put your phone back on silent, secretly wishing you'd never checked it in the first place. Muttering under your breath about what a jerk he's been to you lately but you stop yourself. Because he's still your boyfriend, and sure, he fucked up a few times, bad. It doesn't change the fact that you're in a relationship with him.
If you could even call it that.
You've slept together twice. Well- 1.5 times if you wanted to get specific. The second time was so bad that you simply had to stop it altogether and make up some excuse so that you didn't hurt his feelings.
Shaking him out of your head and focusing back on your task at hand which was collecting the empty mugs from the table. Repeating the same process as before, avoiding all eye contact, but this time you didn't look up.
You didn't bother because you already knew he was watching you.
You were intimidated but you weren't oblivious.
-
"Y/n! Y/n! Y/n!" You hear her from around the corner before you see her running towards you at your coffee station on the first floor. Sunny was practically bursting. You would think that she had captured the sun between her hands but it was something that would take your life for a spin, but you didn't know that yet.
"You're interview went so well!" You slip in your comment first knowing that once she says whatever she has to say, it'll go on for years.
"I know right! After you left to pack up, I was still talking to the guys and they really seemed to like me so they invited me and any +1 I want to invite on their weekend in Vegas trip tomorrow night! All expenses paid for!" Jaw-dropping wasn't the word. Knee buckling may be a better fit as you had quite literally stumbled and dropped a mug, thankfully it didn't break.
"No. No no no." You say, backing up and her entire demeanour deflated like a devastated puppy. "Why not?" You lean in close, whispering, "Because Jungkook is gonna be there--" She interrupts you, practically exploding with emotions. "Oh my god, he wants you so bad. Did you see the way he was looking at you?!" She whisper shouts.
"I know!" you plain shout out, realizing your volume needed adjusting and leaning forward onto the counter. "But he's Jeon Jungkook and I have Daehyun-" The most disgusted look runs across Sunny's face.
"I cannot believe you are even comparing the two right now. You said it yourself, one is Jeon Jungkook, and the other is Daehyun, a man you should've left in the dust months ago." Here we go again, you sigh.
"C'mon Y/n. He's an asshole, he's childish, he's bad in bed and honestly, the list should end there but no, he humiliated you in front of your family and he was caught in your sister's dm's on Christmas!!"
"It's May for god's sake and he's still stressing you out, and seeing you stressed makes me stressed. So why don't you come tomorrow, I'll keep you away from Jungkook if it comes to that, but please, you need to let loose a little and forget about him for just the weekend." She begs.
She could see you were starting to consider it.
"Please?" She pouts, giving you those same puppy eyes that convinced you to work here in the first place. "Please don't look at me like that, stop." You try to avoid her sorrowful gaze but It's like it intensifies to a point where you just can't look away, nor can you deny.
"Fine, fine. Okay, I'll go."
--
Considering you only just found out you were leaving the country yesterday, you think you did pretty good packing light but efficiently.
That's what you were thinking as you stepped behind Sunny onto the empty private jet. She'd already made arrangements to sit beside Namjoon.
She was crazy but you had to give the girl credit, she worked fast.
You weren't taking in a single thing, part of you was still in disbelief you had even seen the boys up close and personal yesterday.
This would all sink in for you in 5 years and then you'll be hit with a numbing regret of not doing things differently.
Or maybe it'll sink in for you right now, Jimin's full head of brown wavy hair is the first one you see to pop up on the plane and he flashes you a kind smile, taking a seat beside you.
He introduces himself as if you and half the world don't already know him but you engage anyway, giving him your name and the rest is history.
The flight was 11 hours so there was a lot of ground to cover between the two of you for the first 6 hours. Jimin was just such an easy person to open up with, any time you said something crazy you felt like he would have an even crazier story of his own to share.
He'd told you all about his first impressions of the guys to his first scandal that the label somehow managed to cover up because even you were in shock. It would have been over for him.
Then it was your turn, telling him about your exhausting boyfriend since it all started seven months ago.
"On Christmas?!" He shouts, "Why are you with him again?" You groan, "God you sound just like Sunny!"
The two of you were clearly enjoying your conversation while Sunny worked on getting Namjoon to talk a little bit about his past, trying to see if he really was the boy from all those years ago, but he seemed occupied reading his book and she wasn't going to interrupt him any longer. She sighs softly, looking out the window, watching the clouds fly by like art.
Meanwhile, at the front of the jet, Jungkook typed away on his laptop, sometimes blurbing some possible lyrics, but mostly keeping himself busy with a thousand rounds of Tetris. He tuned out the sound of your angelic laughter with his headphones, but it couldn't stop him from glancing to the back of the plane where you sat with Jimin every so often.
Only about an hour left before you landed and you really needed to pee but Jimin was in the way and fast asleep. You looked around, it seemed that everyone was fast asleep, but you really had to go.
Lightly tapping Jimin and asking him to let you through, he moves, half awake, just giving you enough time to pass before going back to his original position.
You exited the bathroom, nearly falling to the ground in horror when you came face to face with the man you'd nearly forgotten was on the jet. He smiles that classic bunny smile that the fans go crazy over.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you." He says it so sweetly, and in this hushed tone due to the late hour of the night it was making your head think things. Things that you should not be thinking about.
"You okay?" Checking in, seeing that you seemed to have zoned out mid-conversation. Shit. You were doing it again. "Y-yeah." You hated speaking to him it made you feel like you couldn't speak at all. He was just so tall, and his eyes were so big and endearing and-
"Really? Cause it looks like you've got something on your mind." It comes out in such a way that brings heat to your face, suddenly hyper-aware that everyone is asleep, and the two of you are out of sight in the narrow hall of the bathroom.
"Yeah, just excited for tomorrow." You lie, you felt sick to your stomach. He made you sick to your stomach. He gets a little closer, now close enough for you to be able to smell the soft cologne on his clothes. "What's got you so excited?"
It felt like you were watching yourself fall from the sky, it was slow but graceful, but you knew once you hit the bottom, things would get ugly. So you grew wings. "My boyfriend. We're planning on Facetiming tomorrow." It was like a repellant, the way he stepped back.
"Oh, that's nice." He mumbles and you take this opportunity to run back to your seat, hopping over Jimin and strapping yourself back in your seat, shaking your head over and over again.
This was a bad idea. You should not have come on this trip.
-
"She has a fucking boyfriend." Is the first thing Jungkook says to Yoongi and Jimin while the three sit in the back of the taxi that is en route to the hotel. Yoongi wasn't listening, still half asleep after only waking up 30 minutes ago. He would need a repeat of it all tomorrow.
"Pfft. Barely." Jimin mumbles. Triggering quite possibly the fasted head turn known to mankind, Jungkook looks at him with intrigue, "What do you mean by that."
"He's an asshole. Like a literal piece of shit, but she's still with him for whatever reason. It's gotta be Stockholm syndrome." Jimin shrugs. "But you can't tell her I told you this, I think she's pretty cool, so before you get your dick wet, think with your head first."
Yoongi hums in agreement with that one statement. He may be asleep but he knows a good statement when he hears one.
-
Jungkook did think. He thought about you all night. From the cab to the hotel, until he fell asleep and again when he woke up. Sure, you had a boyfriend, but it sounds like you shouldn't be with him, or at least deserved someone better.
The morning sun seeps through the curtains, casting a warm glow on the lavish surroundings. You and Sunny share a glance, a silent acknowledgment of the incredible experience that awaits. Or at least that's what Sunny thinks.
Instead, you retreat under the covers of your bed with an unpleasant sound. "How could I let you bring me here." Your voice is muffled and scratchy from it being the morning still. "Because you love me." She runs from her bed and jumps onto yours.
"Should we get room service?" She proposes and you slowly pull the covers down, revealing an interested expression. "Who's paying?" You ask. "Who cares! It's not us." She springs up and bounces for the phone.
By the late afternoon, you'd gotten an invite from Jimin, inviting you guys down to the pool, it was reserved just for them. "We're going, this isn't up for debate, Y/n. You said you would relax on this trip, so it's my job to make sure you do!" She pulls out the violet two-piece you'd packed in your luggage and shoves you into the bathroom, throwing the clothes in there with you after and shutting the door.
"I hate you y'know," you say from the other side of the door.
"You'll thank me one day, Y/n. One day."
-
There was a roar of cheers from the guys as the two of you walked into sight, the sun was beaming down on you and you were glad you brought your sunscreen.
Jungkook tried to be respectful to the sham of a relationship you were in but what was he supposed to do? You looked so hot in your bathing suit, you were so small but you still had curves in all the right places.
He just wanted to break you in half. Pin you down and-
A splash of water hits him in the face, "Stop eye fucking her and act like you've been neutered for once." Yoongi warns, swimming away before Jungkook could retaliate.
Jin calls Sunny into the water, and she just about jumped in while you were working on unwrapping your new bottle of sunscreen. Jungkook uses this as an opportunity. Looking down at the white shirt that was now soaked through, sticking to his abs he slowly steps out of the water.
Looking you right in the eyes as you shook the bottle. Now you were staring but you didn't care. You were looking at the son of Adonis, or maybe the god himself.
In the warm glow of the poolside sun, Jungkook emerged from the sparkling water, droplets cascading down his glistening skin. The pool's rippling surface bore witness to his athletic grace as he approached the pool chair where you reclined, still shaking the bottle.
His steps were confident, each one leaving a trail of water on the tiles beneath his feet. As he neared, he held your gaze with an intense, playful glint in his eyes. The air between you became charged with a magnetic energy, and a sly smile played on his lips.
With deliberate movements, Jungkook reached down to the hem of his white shirt, clinging to his sculpted physique. The fabric peeled away, revealing the contours of his toned abs. Beads of water followed the curves of his body, accentuating every defined muscle.
As the shirt came off, the sunlight caught on the droplets clinging to his skin, creating an ethereal effect. The sensual eye contact between the two of you intensified, creating a moment suspended in time. The poolside ambiance seemed to hush, allowing the connection between them to take center stage.
Your fist clenched, the sunscreen blurted out of the bottle, some landing on the smooth skin of your thigh but most hit the chair.
Jungkook's expression hinted at a playful confidence, acknowledging the allure of the moment. Your little accident told him all he needed to know. You wanted him.
Even if you didn't know it yet.
Wiping desperately at the sunscreen that had landed on you, a bigger hand comes to help. Gently rubbing the soft flesh of your thigh, Jungkook was crouched to your level with nothing more than a sincere smile as he helped you with your sunscreen.
Your mouth gaped like a fish out of water as you watched him from beside yourself. Unable to believe what was happening. You could feel your heart beating in your ears, and other places but you shook your head.
"Wh-what-" Jungkook looks up to you, moving his hand away. "My bad. I didn't mean to overstep, I just noticed that you'd spilt some of your sunscreen," He inches just a little closer so that you looked down at him from where you sat on your chair. "I'd hate for it to go to waste."
That mischievous tongue of his makes an appearance briefly as it swipes over his bottom lip before retreating; leaving behind glossy plump lips. It's not what he says, but how he says it.
Almost as though he wanted you to break.
You hated how he made you feel without saying anything out of the ordinary.
"You have to be shitting me," Yoongi curses to no one in particular as he watches Jungkook lean up towards you from where he was floating in the pool on the flamingo inflatable.
"You've gotta admit, the boy's determined." Jin adds while Hoseok shakes his head, "He just doesn't know when to give up."
--
Opening your hotel room door to see Jimin leaning against the wall waiting for you. He looked incredible in his black button-up with the sleeves rolled to the elbows. His hair swooped to perfection.
"About time." He kicks himself off the wall as you scoff, "Don't blame me, blame the dress." Your freshly manicured nail points to the red, velvet dress that left your chest exposed before it went under the halter neckline.
There was so much skin offered to anyone that looked at you. You looked absolutely stunning. The way the dress clung tightly to your curves was almost ungodly but made you seem even more angelic.
Twirling on your toes slowly to showcase the full rotation of your outfit and Jimin failed to suppress his gasp. The back- Your back was completely exposed safe for where the halter crossed behind your neck.
"You look hot, and I'm not just saying that." You grin, leading the way to the elevator and waiting for it to come up.
While you were watching the elevator screen, Jimin was watching you. Not lustfully or anything since he really did see the two of you becoming close friends in the future but his gaze was full of.. fear?
Jungkook was going to eat you alive tonight, and he was willing to put money on it.
The man has been able to show limited amounts of self-control since the trip began, and his little shirtless stunt at the pool earlier that day was proof.
The elevator dings and the doors open.
You step in, hearing your phone vibrating from within your maroon chain side bag. Digging through your various lipsticks, mini perfumes and hair pins you finally grab your buzzing device.
Daehyun: When did you go to Vegas?? and how did you get there? 4:33 pm
Daehyun: Baby, I'm sorry. I mean it. Stop Ignoring me. (now) 8:12 pm
You sigh, scrolling through your messages sadly. "Am I being too hard on him?" Jimin leans over to look at the messages, his face turning sour at Daehyun's messages. "I bet you he doesn't even know what he's apologizing for."
The elevator doors close, and Jimin presses the star symbol for the nightclub on the first floor where you would meet the others.
Shaking your head repeatedly, "No. That's impossible. He knows, Jimin. Trust me." He doesn't seem convinced in the slightest,
"Okay. Since you're so sure-" He snatched your phone from your grasp, his fingers moving at the speed of light and you panicked, reaching for the device but he held it high. "Jimin No-!"
"I said 'What are you apologizing for'. I won't send it if you don't want me to. But It seems like he's only apologizing because he knows he's in the wrong, but doesn't know what for."
The elevator dings, going down floor by floor, the silence slowly creeping up on you, "Send it." You say, and his thumb hits send.
The doors open.
You and Jimin step out into the club. Before you sprawled a vast expanse of vibrant colours. Neon lights adorned the walls, casting a kaleidoscope of hues that danced in rhythm with the music.
The dance floor, surrounded by elevated platforms and VIP booths, was the epicentre of the vibrant spectacle. Mirrored ceilings multiplied the dazzling display, creating a sense of endless sin.
"Do you know where they are?" You ask while Jimin leads the way into the crowd of hot bodies and blasting music, he glances down to the text from Tae, "Tae said they're in section 9." Maneuvering your way through the swarm of people until you meet up with the others.
Jimin walked up the steps first, the group's cheers blending in with the roars coursing throughout the rest of the club as he joined them with you closely behind, the cheers continuing for you with whistles once you reached the platform.
"Oh shit!" Sunny curses, rushing to your side to shower you with compliments. "I guess being 30 minutes late pays off, you look great." Tae welcomes you with a side hug and an invitation to sit beside him.
"You need to cool it." Jin pulls Jungkook in by the collar so that he could hear him over the music. Jungkook finally pulls his hungry gaze off of you and looks to his elder.
"You're making it way obvious, and obvious is not what you want. She has a boyfriend. There are hundreds of other girls here, find someone else." He lets him go and Jungkook shakes his head.
How Jin even found out that you had a boyfriend didn't phase him. The seven of them were as close as brothers, it was hard for him and Jimin to keep anything to themselves.
Hundreds of girls but they weren't you. He couldn't just switch it on and off. This wasn't as fun and playful as it once was before, he was starting to get addicted to the thought of you.
"You have any pre-rolls on you?" Jungkook leans over to Namjoon who was deep into a conversation with Sunny. Namjoon reaches inside the pocket of his blazer, "Never leave home without them."
"Great. I need a smoke." Jungkook huffs, standing, purposefully avoiding your gaze. God you looked so fucking fine in that dress, it made him crazy, sick to his stomach.
He's Jeon Jungkook for god's sake.
The concept of want is so unfamiliar to him. Any girl he wants could easily be in his bed the same day, but you-- he shakes his head bitterly-- you were giving him a hard time, all over what? some lame-ass boyfriend.
"Namjoon you comin' ?" He looks over his shoulder to see both him and Sunny standing, "Mind if I join?" She asks, "The more the merrier."
You watched as the three of them disappeared into the bustling crowd vanishing out of sight. "Where did they go?"
Tae leans forward looking at where the trio had just walked through. "Probably went to go ball up." Tae shrugs, "Which means it's time to really get this night started. First round on me."
It wasn't until three shots later when Jungkook had finally come back, this was the first time you really got a good look at him. He was wearing nothing but a black jacket that had the most delicate body chains striping across his abdomen, giving you a clear view of his sculpted abs and-
Your phone buzzes.
You: Why are you apologizing? 8:13 pm
Daehyun: Because you're upset. (now) 9:27 pm
God, Jimin might be right. He doesn't have a clue.
You: Do you even know why I'm mad? 9:27 pm
Daehyun: Is it because of the nudes I sent Soo-Min? I was drunk, I promise. It was a mistake. 9:28 pm
You gasp. You had no idea what he was talking about. You were referring to him standing you up when you told all your family that he would be coming. You never knew this had even happened.
You: What the fuck are you talking about? 9:29 pm
You: I cannot believe you right now. 9:29 pm
You: Stop fucking texting me. 9:30 pm
You weren't even sad or disappointed. You were used to him letting you down constantly. "Looks like you need another shot." You look up from the screen in your lap, making eye contact with ringed fingers wrapped around a shot glass with your name on it.
You take the shot in your own grasp, looking Jungkook in the eyes as you down it. Your face wincing a little at the burn in the back of your throat but you were beginning to feel that exciting warmth in your chest.
The strobe lights turn red as Chris Brown's Take You Down begins to play through the loud speakers all around the club. "Wanna dance?" He offered you his hand, your brain was a little hazy and your cheeks were flushed but Jungkook was too hot to resist.
"Love to."
The two of you walk off to the dance floor with the rest of the crowd.
Taehyung looks to Jin who looks to Hoseok who looks to Yoongi.
Yoongi sighs, shaking his head slowly taking another shot. "It's out of my control. Once they step on that floor, their fate is sealed."
It's true, the moment Jungkook's hands were on your hips that swayed to the music you knew you were screwed. You had every right to be apprehensive about going on this stupid trip in the first place, but deep down you knew it was inevitable.
This very moment was destined from the start.
"You look fucking perfect tonight." He whispers in your ear from behind you, subconsciously pushing your hips back on him and Jungkook could swear he's never wanted someone as badly as he wanted you at this very moment.
"Says you," You spin in his hold, now face to face.
His grip on your hips tighten, body unable to maintain its façade for much longer. Your hair was up in a bun tonight, showing off the industrial piercing he never even knew you had.
There were so many things he wanted to know about you, and not just physically. He wanted to be able to sit with you over a cup of coffee and talk about everything and anything.
His tight hold on you prompted a breathless whine to escape your lips but he heard it. "Stop it." He says and your eyebrows scrunch, genuinely confused. "Stop what?"
"Stop tempting me. I'm trying to be respectful." Astonishment wipes over your features. "You're telling me to stop? It's been you all along, making me trip over my words, and being so shirtless and hot all the time, making me forget I have a boyfriend." He chuckles.
"So you admit it. You think about me too?"
You step back.
"Yes, Jungkook. I cannot stop thinking about you and that's my problem. I need to get you out of my head." Your mouth was saying one thing, but with the way he was looking at you, your heart wanted him between your legs.
The almost forgotten feeling of lust finally coursed through your veins. It'd been so long since you'd gotten any action, you needed this.
But you couldn't.
He steps towards you, even closer than before. You could feel his firm body crowding against your own. The way he towered over you made you feel dizzy. He leaned down, ensuring that you could feel his warm breath on the shell of your ear when he spoke "Tell me you don't want me and I'll walk away."
You don't want him. you lie to yourself.
Trying to put these thoughts into words, your mouth opens.
"I need you, Jungkook." Finally admitting it.
There was no going back now, his lips crashed against yours with nothing less than an animalistic desire. It was fast-paced and messy but you loved it.
The dam finally broke.
You kissed with more than your lips, his hands on your waist, squeezing tight as he rolled his hips into you with the rhythm of the music.
This was so so wrong, but it felt so right.
The way his tongue rolled over your bottom lip with such skill made your thighs clench, you could only imagine the things he could do with it--
"Y/n!" Sunny screams your name from behind you, not even processing what you and Jungkook had just been doing while Namjoon was busy enjoying the music behind her.
You turned around, a little breathless and bothered after being disrupted but you were immediately occupied with analyzing Sunny's appearance. For starters her hair was ruffled and looked like it'd been put through the wringer, her lipstick (what was left of it) was fading and a little smudged.
And last that you checked she was wearing lashes when the night began but they were nowhere to be found. "Sunny where did you go-- Oh my god- Did you and Namjoon-" Her non-stop nodding causes you to clasp your hand over your mouth.
"It's him! He remembers me!" The two of you have your moment, squealing before Jungkook whispers in your ear. "Meet me at the elevator in 5." Sunny actually does catch on this time.
"Oh my god!? Are you gonna-"
You think about it, "I don't know!! Should I?! Daehyun just voluntarily admitted to sending nudes to Soo-Min god knows when and-" Sunny groans. "Leave him, for the love of god y/n stand up!" She yells.
"I can't just leave him he's my boyfriend, and it wouldn't make me any better than him." Sunny's eyes roll. "It won't be cheating if you plan on breaking up with his ass tonight. Just hurry up and decide, Jungkook's waiting for you." She winks and it gives you butterflies.
He was waiting for you.
The moment you turned the corner of the hallway, you saw Jungkook waiting outside the elevator as he said he would be, finally pressing the button. "I was afraid you wouldn't come," he laughs internally to himself at the double entendre, knowing Jungkook's track record, this has never been an issue for him.
The two of you step inside the elevator, it would be a long ride up to the 21st floor, the two of you did your best to stay to your respective sides of the elevator until there was a crowd of people that entered as well, pushing you into him.
Completely oblivious to the way your ass was pressed flush against his crotch, he looks up to the ceiling, wondering what he'd done in his past life to deserve this kind of punishment.
A beautiful girl pressed up against him but he couldn't do anything. As the crowd moved, so did you he hisses and your body stills, finally aware of what you were doing.
On the 13th floor the elevator empties completely, leaving just the two of you and you try to move away from him but his grip holds you in place. "Didn't think you'd be running from me so soon." You'd never heard his voice like this. It was deeper, bass full of wants and desires,
He spins you around, he had you cornered.
Looking up to him with that doe gaze of yours. His index finger gently rests under your chin, your gaze was practically begging him to kiss you, but in case he was hesitating you nodded just a little, permitting him to open your lips with his.
This kiss was a lot slower and deeper than the one before. It was soft and sweet, but slowly turned into a full-blown make-out session by the time the elevator made it to the 21st floor.
He leads the way to his room at the end of the hall, beside Hoseok's room.
Jungkook worked on unlocking the door while you chewed on the tip of your acrylic. Were you really about to do this?
"I'm going in my room, and you don't have to follow, but I'm leaving the door unlocked." He says, disappearing behind the door. Looking over your shoulder, your room was 4 doors down.
You could still back out now, it wasn't too late.
All you would need to do is have a long talk with Daehyun.
You scoff, even his name irritated you. Your heart knew things weren't going to work out between the two of you once you got back home, regardless of whether you slept with Jungkook or not.
He's broken your trust far too many times, and besides, Sunny was right, he is an asshole.
You walk into Jungkook's room and make sure to lock the door behind you.
"That's my girl," He purrs as he steps towards you, taking your face in his hands before gracing you with a heated kiss, the kind of kiss that made you stumble as he walked you back to the door.
"Hope you put that phone on dnd." He whispers, kissing down your neck, skillfully managing to take your hair down at the same time. You looked like the epitome of sin, hair falling over your shoulders as if it fell from grace while your neck was littered with hickeys, your plump bottom lip tugged between those perfect teeth of yours.
Your dress was the first thing to go, he loved it on you, but it served its purpose, and it did it well. Soon his jacket was finally off revealing his muscular build that you'd seen in the fan cams but it couldn't compare to the real thing.
You kissed him back desperately as your legs were wrapped around his waist while he made his way to the bed, dropping you down to your back watching the way you bounced.
Your perfect tits are the first victim of his passionate affection. Leaving tender kisses on the soft flesh, "Jungkook-" you gasp feeling him wrap his lips around your nipples, tongue working hard to push you towards that edge that you'd been inching closer to since you got in here.
He groans as he feels your hands roam over his back, anticipating the feeling of your nails scratching his skin. Finally moving down from your breasts once they were covered with his kisses and hickeys.
You could feel yourself practically soaking through your under, not to mention the way it was sticking to you. "Looks like someone's worked up," he teases, slowly peeling you out of your ruined underwear.
"What's got you so hot and bothered, is it your boyfriend?" You sit up so fast almost getting a head rush and he laughs. "Jungkook." You say and he gives you a look of lust. "What? Say it baby, use your words. Tell me who makes you this wet. Is it me or him?"
You press your legs together, unable to believe that this was turning you on more. "He couldn't turn me on." He looks up to you with wide eyes. "Is that so?" Nodding your head slowly, letting Jungkook gently push you back down to the bed.
On his knees he takes a deep breath at your core, a guttural sound rumbling in his chest as he was face to face with your dripping core. "So you're saying it's me?" he asks, letting his tongue run a flat stripe against your soaked folds.
"YES! It's you Jungkook please, stop teasing, please I can't take it. I'm already so close." You beg, body thrashing around enough for him to pin your legs over his shoulder and to keep you still.
You were stroking his ego, telling you you were already so close and he's barely touched you. Your boyfriend must've been shit in bed, and he was determined to make it up to you. He was going to show you what you've been missing.
Finally eating you out to his heart's content, ignoring the way your feet continued to move frantically over his shoulders he lapped up at your core, flicking his tongue over your clit until your body spasmed uncontrollably. "I'm-" Unable to even finish the sentence before you were blinded by an earth-shattering orgasm.
It ripped through you like a storm and came squirting out of you just like one too. "You've got to fucking kidding me," Jungkook murmurs to himself and you froze. Was he mad?
He stands up, "Of course the hottest girl I've ever seen squirts on my tongue. Good fucking hell, Y/n. It's like you want me obsessed with you." Who was he kidding, he was already obsessed.
He picked you up so carelessly, bringing you to the balcony where it overlooked the Las Vegas strip. You could see the hotel's illuminated pool and all the car lights as they zoomed on the highway far in the distance.
"Hope you're not scared of heights."
Your stomach twisted at the thought of being so high up, but it was all forgotten once your leg was propped up and you felt your folds being prodded open by the fat head of Jungkook's cock.
"No- fuck! Wait." you cursed feeling him push in just the tip, the sweet burn of his size nearly causing you to fall but he held you steady against the railing, bulging biceps on either side of your body, caging you in safely.
Jungkook knew better, this should be the last place he should be doing something like this but with your pretty ass right in front of him it was such a beautiful sight, and the scenery was cool too.
"It's too much," you pant, arms bracing yourself on the fence that kept you from falling 200 feet below. "It's only the tip baby, you sure you can take the whole thing?" You pause in thought, you needed him, all of him. "I can take it. keep going." You say and he pushes in slowly, feeling his cock fill up every nook and cranny of your womb.
It felt like he was in your lungs, you were knocked breathless, and he didn't move. Your body went limp in his arms, exactly what he feared would happen. He quite literally split you open, but you were determined to take it.
You clawed at the railing desperately, looking for any kind of relief from what you were feeling. "Deep breaths baby, I'll go slow." You nod, eyes squeezed shut as his hips slowly roll back pulling out about halfway before rocking back in.
"Oo-oh. fuck. Jungkook, keep going." you moan, head falling onto your hands; feeling what was once pain morphs into an addicting, sweet pleasure, over time his pace picks up until he was fucking into you with no remorse.
Even if no one could see you from this high up, they sure as hell could hear you. The way you cried out his name like a prayer over and over while Jungkook's brain was short-circuiting with the sight of you creaming on his dick and the obscene sounds it created.
"Does your boyfriend fuck you like this, huh?" He angles his hips, resuming his brutal pace even though you've already come twice now. Your body jolts with each snap of his hips.
You shake your head, but that isn't enough for him, flipping you around so that you're facing him, he pushes himself back in, your eyes fluttering shut almost immediately.
"Use your words Y/n. You're my smart girl, look me in the eyes and tell me that your boyfriend could never fuck you like I do." Your eyes snap open, "He c-could never fuck-!" Jungkook slowed down his thrusts to something so much deeper, your eyes rolled and Jungkook nearly came just at the sight.
"Shit, I'm gonna come." He pants, and with a few more erratic thrusts you feel his warm cum fill you up. He slowly lets you stand but your legs fail you immediately. Scooping you up in his arms effortlessly he brings you to the bed, clearly not done with you.
That's how you found yourself on the brink of your third orgasm while Jungkook plowed into you from behind, obsessed with how his cum seeped out of you and around his cock.
Your arms had given out long ago hence why your cheek was smushed into the sheets of the bed while you whimpered like a whore. "God you should look at yourself," He laughs almost maniacally from behind you.
Feeling himself approach his climax, "Jungkook- please!" you cried out, the friction only adding to the stimulation, "m' gonna-" you try to get back up on your arms but you couldn't move.
"I wonder what your boyfriend would say if he saw you like this,'' A wicked smile spreads across his lips as he reaches for your phone that was forgotten somewhere on the bed, hitting record.
Pulling you up onto your arms, tugging your hair by a makeshift ponytail, the flash highlights the various bruises all over your body left by yours truly. The audio was picking up his soft groans and your pathetic whimpers, and if the room was quiet enough you could probably hear the welt squelch of your cunt sucking in his length with each push.
"Shit, shit, shit!" You cry out, coming once more and your body goes limp, Jungkook ends the recording and tosses the phone to the side while he chases his own high finishing soon after you.
He pulls out slowly, "Y/n, baby? Are you with me?" He taps your cheek gently, and your eyes barely open, "I think you fucked the soul out of me," He dares to flash you a nervous smile as if he hadn't just fucked you dumb.
"Come, let's get you cleaned up."
-
"That was one hell of a trip." You mumble to Sunny on the phone as you wheel your suitcase down the hall to the door of your apartment where there was a big bouquet of flowers.
"Oh my god," You say, crouching down, wincing a little as you did to read the card. "What?" Sunny asks and you explain what you were seeing.
"Do you think they're from Daehyun?" You scoff, "Fat chance."
You open the envelope to read the card aloud,
'To the hottest girl. We should get donuts sometime, I heard you like them cream-filled ;) Text me sometime xxx-xxx-xxx. -J.K'
Sunny squealed in your ear.
"I'll call you back." You say, dialling Jungkook's number.
"Hello?" He answers.
"You got me flowers?" You couldn't stop the smile from spreading across your face, and he could hear it. He closed his fridge and leaned on the counter, "You like 'em?"
Holding the vase in your hand you take a deep sniff, "I love them."
He shakes his head. "This is so sad. You're too easy to impress. Let me treat you better than that jerk, Y/n." Your mouth falls open-
"How- What?"
"Jimin mentioned the details to me but don't get mad at him; it doesn't change the fact that the guy is an asshole." You sigh.
"I know."
"So?" Jungkook starts, waiting for you to say something.
"I think you mentioned something about cream-filled donuts. When and where?"
He smiles.
#bts#jungkook#jungkook smut#jungkook ff#jungkook fic recs#bts one shot#bts jungkook#jungkook x reader#jeon jungkook#btssmuts#bts scenarios#fluff#bts smut#smut
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♡ may I have your attention, please? ♡
-> how the genshin men would try to impress you
They would try to impress you through..
Strength
Itto, Childe, Wriothesley
Would try to impress you with physical displays of strength and show his battle prowess. He'd do this because 1) he's a show-off (more so Itto and Childe), and 2) he would want to show how capable he is of defending you, and let you know that you won't have to worry about anything while he's around.
Maybe if you're also into fighting, he'll challenge you to a duel. It'd be his sneaky way of getting close and up front with you, hehe. You might even end up impressing him with your own skills 😌
(I see Itto and Childe being the type to try to flex at any given opportunity for you, intending that you'll drool over his muscles LMAO)
Being smooth with his words
Kaeya, Heizou, Lyney
Will try to fluster you and will do so using smooth lines. He'll take special note of what gets a smile out of you, a little laugh from you, and especially a blush from you. Thus, he'll attempt to initiate a conversation and form his words in ways that will have you doing all three the entire time. He hopes he can make you feel some type of way and let you know that YOU make HIM feel some type of way too ;)
Knowledge
Alhaitham, Zhongli, Neuvillette, Dainsleif, Ayato
Similar to the previous category, they'll try to capture your heart in conversation, but they wouldn't even intend to be impressive. They simply have pure interest in you and would love to stimulate both of your minds with a good conversation.
More importantly, he'd be able to gain more knowledge about you and, therefore, feel closer to you. He'd keep track of nearly every single thing you've said, so don't be surprised when he brings up that incredibly tiny detail you briefly mentioned in conversations before. It'll be proof of his attentiveness and deep focus on you because he's so down bad for you
After all, while he may be an expert on many subjects, the subject that he strives to become the greatest expert on is you.
Little gifts
Xiao, Scaramouche, Diluc, Gorou, Albedo
They'd prefer to show that you've caught their interest through little, thoughtful gifts. I see these guys as being a bit on the reserved and quiet side. So instead of using their words to display their affection for you, they'd much rather give you gifts, in hopes that you'll understand how much you mean to them.
Specifcally, for example, I see Albedo giving you pictures he drew of beautiful landscapes that you've both seen on walks together or maybe draw cute little creatures for you to play with
I see Xiao or Gorou giving you flowers that you've mentioned you loved. He just so happened to find them as he was out, scouting the area (he actually looked everywhere for them).
Scaramouche and Diluc would probably give you practical things that he also 'happened to find around'. "I heard you needed this", he'd mutter as he handed you a rare artifact or material that you had been looking for that could have only been found in the most dangerous areas.
And every one of them would absolutely melt inside each time they see your face light up with pure joy when you receive their gift. That expression would be the gift you gave them in return, which is why they ensured to keep giving you these tiny gifts
Jokes
CYNO
A special category for him because I JUST KNOW that he'd try to capture your heart through jokes. You know what they say: "Laughter is the best medicine" (and you're the medicine to his heart). Therefore, he'd spend all day just to come up with the best jokes he can. Although they might not always land, he'd be the happiest guy if he could still receive a small laugh or a smile from you for his efforts or for just how plain silly his joke was. (Please laugh at at least one of them, he's trying his best)
Song
Venti, Kazuha
Another special category for these two!
Venti would probably sing ballads for you to get your attention. He might even compose a ballad about you, and within it, he'd describe your traits with affection, and will subtly confess his own feelings within the lyrics.
Kazuha would play his little leaf flute for you. He'd play the most beautiful melodies he knew. He would try to play anything you liked and would basically be your own personal jukebox. If he didn't know a certain tune you wanted to hear, he'd be glad to learn it from you. Maybe you would hum the tune a bit, and he would try to match the pitches. I personally think he'd love doing making music with you, and the same would go for poems, too. He would adore creating haikus and poems with you, as well as creating them FOR you
Sharing passions
Thoma, Baizhu, Tighnari, Kaveh
If there was anything in common you two loved, he would invest in it for sure, knowing that it captivated both of you. It would be a fun and delightful way of getting to know one another better.
On the other hand, if you two didn't share a common interest, then there was no problem either. He would be delighted to learn more about yours. After all, he'd want to know what makes you happy, and hopefully become another source of happiness for you. And he would be over the moon for you if you asked him the same, asking him to teach you about what he loves. (Which means you have to teach him more about YOU)
He'd want to create a strong bond with you through this and hopes that it'll become something even more eventually.
a/n: apologies for the silly commentary throughout this. I was in a goofy mood while writing, teehee
© 2023 lyneira. PLEASE DO NOT COPY, PLAGIARIZE, OR REPOST MY WRITING ONTO OTHER PLATFORMS
#genshin impact x reader#nene writes~♡#diluc x reader#childe x reader#kaeya x reader#alhaitham x reader#kaveh x reader#wriothesley x reader#neuvillette x reader#zhongli x reader#thoma x reader#ayato x reader#itto x reader#albedo x reader#cyno x reader#venti x reader#kazuha x reader#gorou x reader#scaramouche x reader#baizhu x reader#tighnari x reader#xiao x reader#dainsleif x reader#heizou x reader#lyney x reader
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𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒊 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒉𝒆𝒓, steve harrington
steve harrington x fem!reader (1771 words)
in which steve sneaks into your bedroom at night and you can’t help but let your late insecurities out
warnings: making out, insecurities, fear of being used, mentions of sexy times if u squint a lot, soft steve ☹️
☾⋆。𖦹 °✩
You flip the page of the romance book in your hands, humming along the music playing softly on the record player. The soft material of your pyjama pants rubs against the freshly washed comforter under you, a content smile displays your lips.
It’s quite late and you can’t deny your eyes start to fell more droopy by the second. But it’s Friday after all, and all you want is to enjoy the peace of not having to worry about school tomorrow.
The once happy smile dissolves with the sudden sound of something hitting your window.
Discarding your book, you slowly approach the window, immediately catching a glimpse of the figure with messy brown hair climbing his way to your window. Steve.
You can’t say you’re surprised, it’s Steve after all. But it is late and he definitely walked the few miles that separate your house from his, you can tell by the way his nose is reddened from the cold.
It does leave you wondering why he’s here, in your bedroom, in the middle of the night. Not that you don’t question why he’s at your side at all, you do. He’s “king Steve” after all and it’s quite hard to believe he’s all yours sometimes.
You push the window open as fast as you can without making too much noise. Your parents would kill you if you woke them up, let alone if they knew you had a boy sneaking in through your window.
“Steve-? What are you doing here?” You question, trying to sound reprehensible but failing as he grins so nicely at you.
He climbs clumsily through the window, lading with a soft thud on the carpet.
“Hi, baby.” Steve avoids the question, closing the window before turning to look at you with wide eyes.
“So?” You press.
“So? I missed you, had to see you.” Taking a step closer, he reaches to rub your jumper sleeved arm with his thumb, ever so tentatively trying to make sure you’re not upset that he showed up.
Upset is definitely not the word to describe how you feel, but you at least have to pretend your stomach isn’t doing flips with excitement at the moment.
“You walked me home earlier, Steve.” You pretend to be logic, grabbing his hand to play with his fingers as a reassurance.
“‘S too long.” His hands tug at your jumper to pull you close, cold nose nuzzling your cheek and pressing a smooch to your jaw. “And stop calling me Steve.” He grumbles against your skin.
“Isn’t that your name?” You feign innocence.
“To you it’s baby, handsome, sweetheart- you smell nice. Did you know that?” You giggle at the way he changes subject mid sentence and pouts when you do so.
Before you have a chance to teasingly apologize to him, his attention drifts to looking around your bedroom. It’s still quite new to him, he’s only been here once or twice very briefly.
He walks up to your record player, looking through your small collection of records before picking one that fits his liking. It plays a soft melody, fitting the moment in the best way possible.
You lean against your desk as Steve’s eyes dance across the pictures on your wall, his lips turning up when he comes across a picture of the two of you kissing.
Finally, he walks to your bed, discarding his sneakers along the way before sitting against the heard board.
“Come here.” Steve pats the space beside him, voice gentler than ever.
Shuffling nervously on your feet, you comply slowly. He slings an arm around your shoulders, your side pressed against his as he picks up the book that had your attention earlier.
“I don’t know how you can read this without getting bored.” He says while flipping through the pages lazily.
“I like it.” You answer simply, though you know he’s anything but making fun of what you like to do. Steve makes sure to pay extra attention anytime you’re talking about your books.
“I like you.” His answer is probably the cheesiest it could be but it doesn’t stop your heart from almost jumping out of your mouth.
You move your head to look at him, finding that is eyes have been set on your face this whole time. His head is slightly turned to the side as if to hold him back from leaning into you and you can’t help but wonder if he can look any prettier.
Steve brings one hand up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, the featherlight touch bringing shivers to your skin.
Without wasting another second, you tug him by the shirt to brush your lips tentatively against his. He takes it as a hint to fully lean in and finally kiss you.
It’s only now he realizes he didn’t kiss you as soon as he jumped through that window and oh does he regret it.
His hand gently cradles your face, thumb brushing against your cheekbone as his lips slowly move against yours.
You almost whine when he moves to take his arm from it’s place around your shoulders, but immediately relax once he guides you to lay down, body towering over yours in a comfortable manner.
His lips return to yours in a more passionate kiss now, one hand resting comfortably on your waist as the other rests by your head where is elbow presses against the bed to support his weight.
Your fingers grip the sweater by his chest, feeling the buttons of the button-up underneath it and you relish in the way his fingers gently play with the strands of your hair.
Steve swears he can fell the warmth of your skin radiating through your jumper and gives in to the urge of sliding down the zipper. His hand slots in the space between your tank top against your ribs and the jumper. It’s an innocent act, no second intentions, at least he doesn’t mean to come off that way.
Though it’s all it takes for you to freeze right on the spot. You don’t mean to, really. But there’s the voice in the back of your head that’s filled with questions. Does he expect more? Is he here just for this? Does he actually like you?
You try hard to make a quick recover, to push the questions away - and you’re quite glad he doesn’t realize. But before you can rethink it, you’re breaking the kiss, the words practically spilling out of your mouth.
“Might start thinking you’re only here for the kisses.” You manage for it to come out teasing, pushing your lips into a smile.
“Would that be too bad?” He teases back, grinning gently while running his eyes through your face.
You hum unenthusiastically, trying hard to keep the smile going. It’s not like you don’t know he’s joking, but there’s still a part of you that wonders - is he really joking? You hate to think of Steve, your Steve, this way. So much it makes your throat feel tied with a knot.
“Hey, i’m just teasing, angel. You know that, yeah?” Steve’s grin turns into a concerned frown, noticing the way your lips twitch slightly
“Yeah.” You whisper meekly, not daring to look him in the eye as you know he’s gonna be looking at you with those upset puppy eyes and it might just make you feel even more guilty.
Out of instinct, you reach to tug at your jumper to seek feeling less exposed. In the process, you barely notice that you push Steve’s hand away and the confused expression on his face pulls at your heartstrings.
“Hey, i’m sorry- i really was joking. Didn’t mean to upset you, i promise.” He’s now genuinely concerned, trying hard to decipher your expressions.
“I know. It’s just that you unzipped my jumper and i just thought you-“ You cut yourself off before getting to finish the sentence, feeling your cheeks burn with embarrassment from how silly you think you sound.
Steve feels as if his stomach has dropped, suddenly realizing what had brought you to act like this and it’s like all of it clicks inside his head. He made you uncomfortable. The last person he would ever intend to do so.
“Wait- i wasn’t trying anything.” He curses himself internally at how stupid he sounds before continuing. “Baby, i would never do anything that you’re not ready for. I came here cause i couldn’t stop thinking about you and there was no way i was waiting until tomorrow. And as much as i love your kisses, they’re not even a quarter of why i enjoy being with you.” Steve moves to sit up, not daring to have the chance of overstepping again.
“Wait- don’t go. I know that, Steve.” There its is again. Steve. And do you really know it? He can’t get himself to feel convinced. He knows about the whole role he’s supposed to play at school, the “no attachment” guy. But he’s let go of that long ago and he can’t blame you for being a bit hesitant, as much as it hurts him.
“No but i need you to actually know. I love you- and i want this to be perfect, us. And i understand you might have doubts but baby, i am so serious about you. There’s nothing i would hate more than to ruin what we have and to hurt you.” He practically pours his heart out to you, obviously nervous as he fiddles with his fingers.
“You love me?” That’s all you managed to get out, heart pounding wildly and eyes wide.
“Yes.” Steve breaths out.
You pull him hastily by the neck, pressing a long clumsy kiss to his lips. It seems quite ironic due to the situation but there’s really no other way you could think of to express how grateful you are.
“I love you, handsome.” Now that’s more like you, adding up to the giddy smile plastered across your face. “Sorry again.”
“Don’t say that. I should have been more clear.” There’s something about the way he says it that just makes you know he’s sincere, you feel overly silly for even doubting earlier.
Wrapping your legs around his waist, you pull him with force to fall on top of you. A giggle escapes your lips as he huffs jokingly, nuzzling into your neck and breathing in.
Steve wraps you in his arms, squeezing tightly before pecking your neck repeatedly, mumbling sweet “i love yous” in between each.
The content smile from earlier returns to your lips, the romance story becoming your own reality.
#steve harrington#steve harrington x reader#stranger things#fluff#steve harrington x reader fluff#comfort
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Hi there! I'm crazy about your stories about Feyd!! Truly brillant!! I've sren your accettino requests...wanted to know if you could a Feyd x reader where they are married and she let him keep the harpies. One day, while Feyd is in a council, reader gets attacked or someone tries to have his way with her and she's saved by the harpies, who kills the man and than take her to their room to care for her, and when Feyd arrives he reward them or something....you choose the endind.
Thankss
Protecting His
Feyd-Rautha x reader
Warnings/Notes: I made it a little bit different, so I hope that's ok. Mention of attempted assault, but it is not detailed. Goes with my His series, but you don't have to read it before reading this. I know this could've been smutty, but idk, the inspiration just didn't take it that route.
Words: 1360
Feyd-Rautha Masterlist / Main Masterlist / Tag list
“I apologize, my Lady,” the harpy says as she dabs alcohol along the fresh slash on your forehead. “It’ll only be a minute more.”
Your chuckle is a weak breath of air. “You saved me. The last thing you need to do is apologize,” you tell her.
She briefly pauses her work before continuing. “Our Lord na-Baron will not understand,” she says.
She’s probably right. Red will be blinding his vision. It’s enough that a guest in your home—an invited guest, a welcomed guest—tried to take advantage of you in a moment when you showed him kindness, but a plethora of additional factors will only heighten your husband’s fury: the fact that you allowed yourself to be alone with another man, even though that was against your intention; the fact that that man touched you and tried to do more; the fact that you’re bleeding because of it; and the fact that Feyd wasn’t the one to protect you, and in his place, one of the harpies was forced to step in. As if they weren’t in enough trouble already.
He’s been deciding what to do with them for days now, trying to figure out if they have enough use elsewhere to be worth keeping alive, but he’s been coming up short, and you know their fates at the hands of your husband are unlikely to be forgiving.
They’d been so good for so long, so well-trained after they tried to take a bite out of you—literally—as you slept by Feyd’s side almost a year ago to the day. That act of disobedience cost them each a finger, but from learning their lesson, they eventually became trustworthy enough for Feyd to assign them as your handmaids. And they maintained the position until the unfortunate incident of one of them losing control.
She tried to take a nibble out of your flesh, and worse, in a moment when you were holding your newborn son. When Feyd learned of this, he lost his mind. Though the harpy acted alone, Feyd banished the three to the other side of the fortress and took the hand of the harpy who tried to have you for her next meal—this harpy.
You stare at the stump, a bandage replacing where pale, delicate fingers used to be. She’s lost enough. It’s not right that she suffer a lash to the neck simply for being within range of you. It’s not right that Feyd’s rage will have him do the same to the other two.
“I’ll make him understand,” you promise her as she covers the cut with a strip of tape, and as if on cue, your husband practically blows the door down with the force of a hurricane.
His eyes land on you and soften with worry at your injured state. They reharden as they find the harpy at your side. “What did she do!” he snaps.
You quickly rise to your feet, ignoring the dizziness that slightly blurs your vision, and place yourself between him and the harpy. “She saved me.”
He rushes toward her, but with your hands pressing into his chest, you keep him at bay. “She tried to harm you not a week ago!”
“And now she saved me.”
Feyd sucks in a breath through his nose, his shoulders rising and falling, his chest puffing and deflating. His eyes fall to your face. His brow knits as his hands cup your cheeks. He presses a long kiss to your lips, then says, “Are you ok?”
“Yes,” you say. “He would’ve done more if she hadn’t been there.”
“I gave explicit orders—”
“I know,” you intercept. “But would you rather a dead wife?”
It’s a blow. Not a wise one, considering he almost lost you during the birth of your son, but it’s reality. You could’ve died tonight. The man that wanted to hurt you wouldn’t have kept you alive to name him after the fact, whether you’re the na-Baron’s wife or not. He’s much too high-ranking, and without your voice there to reveal his lies, he could’ve pinned the crime on anyone.
Feyd’s hands drop from your face, and during your husband's brief placation, you glance over your shoulder at the harpy. “It’s best you go back to your cell now. A guard will escort you.”
She bows her head. “Yes, my Lady,” she says before she treads lightly around you and your husband to the door.
Only once she’s gone and Feyd has settled into his seat at the foot of the bed do you say, “Don’t kill her.”
His head snaps up. “You will not tell me what to do.”
“I’m asking.”
“Why?”
You snort. “Isn’t it obvious?”
Feyd crosses his arms over his chest. “Are you teasing me at a time like this? Your life–” His eyelids pinch and he shakes his head. “You could’ve–”
With a sigh, you move to sit beside him on the mattress. “I’m fine,” you tell him. “But you cannot punish her for saving your wife. It’s not right.”
He pauses in his contemplation before he says, “What was she even doing on this side of the fortress?”
“She said she wanted to apologize to me and that you wouldn’t permit it, so she snuck over,” you answer. “You could’ve at least let her do that much.”
“I couldn’t risk it,” he lightly snaps. “I couldn’t risk you and the baby.”
When your hand lands on his forearm, he takes your fingers between his. “And they don’t have to be around us ever again if that’s what you want, but please reconsider hurting them further. They were always kind to me and–”
“Except when they tried to steal you from me to eat,” he reminds you.
“Yes, well, they were more kind than uncontrollably hungry.”
Feyd stares at you long and hard. His thumb rubs back and forth over yours. “You’re serious.”
You give a single decisive nod. “I am.”
—
When Feyd unlocks the cell door and steps inside, two of the harpies skitter across the floor to Feyd’s feet. They paw at the ankles of his pants. One’s head nuzzles the toe of his boot. He pays them little attention, his eyes on the hunt for the one tucked in the corner against the stone wall. She shies away from the blazing ray of his glare.
“My Lord, we are very sorry for what our sister did,” the first harpy says—the eldest, the tallest of the three. It is most fascinating to see her so low. She tightens her fingers into the pants fabric, but Feyd kicks her off, and her entire body jolts back like a creature freshly injured.
“So very sorry,” the second, who has backed away alongside her sister, mimics.
“Please spare–”
“Hush, I’m not in the mood,” Feyd scolds.
“Y-You will kill us?”
Feyd finally tears his stare from the huddled harpy to the ones by his feet. “You can pray to the kindness of my wife that I will not be,” he says. “You,” he juts his head back to the other. “You get a reward that I expect you to share with your sisters.”
Her head lifts from where it was resting atop her knees. Her dark eyes widen a touch.
“A reward?” one of the others says.
“For us?”
Feyd gives a curt nod to the guard behind him, and a moment later, the man who attempted to take you against your will is tossed into the room. Already battered and bruised, he remains face down on the cobblestone flooring. A groan escapes through his lips, but that and the slightly pinkish hue of his skin from whatever blood remains in his veins is all there is as proof of life.
“A meal,” Feyd says. “Enjoy it while it lasts.”
The three glance at the body and then back up at Feyd. He doesn’t say another word as he turns on his heel and signals his guard to relock the cage. He doesn’t look back as the screams begin to echo through the dank halls. He has better things to do, like tending to his wife. It’s been a long day, after all, and she could use the comfort.
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LAUNDRY DAY
a/n: I AM ALLIVEEEEEEE 🔥🔥🔥🔥 sorry i had a crazy week! can be read as a standalone piece but based off gojo’s roommate au of here and here / tagging @jabamin @hyomagiri @utahimeow @lov3rbody ☆
wc: 4k
warnings: sub!gojo that turns into dom!gojo, fem!reader, fantasising? gojo is a pervert too, mentions of semi-public sex, implied somnophilia, panty sniffing, pillow / dry humping, m! masturbation, oral (m receiving), deep-throating, praise, pet names, unprotected sex, multiple rounds, creampie / breeding kink, n*sfw under the cut
living with you was hard. brushing his teeth with you was hard. being around you — hard. both figuratively and—
there’s a loud sigh from you.
clearly tired from the day’s activities of ushering in freshman after freshman, you lugged your body into the bathroom. the same rehearsed words have been leaving your mouth as your cheeks hurt more and more by the hour, only to repeat it all over again the next day.
“you look like shit,” it’s muffled by the way the toothbrush is stuffed into his mouth, foam peeking out from the corners of his mouth and you’re trying not to tell your roommate (and boyfriend) to shut up — you didn’t have the energy to do, much less say anything and you certainly didn’t have time for your lover’s clever quips so late in the night.
it didn’t help that you recently had an argument too; well, trivial to him but much more major to you. it was a matter of getting gojo to keep his laundry properly and to clean up after himself once he’s gotten himself comfortable in the relationship. it’s not like he doesn’t want to — he was cleaning up in the first place to impress you — but now since he’s got you, it’s like he simply expects you to act as his little wife when it was a shared space. the exact argument you used against him.
“satoru— this is a shared apartment! you can’t just leave tteokbokki cups lying around with the gochujang sauce still inside! it’s going to attract cockroaches and ants!” you gesture wildly, the sheer amount of trash lying around making you even sicker than you thought possible. getting paid to usher in freshmen and then coming home to this? it felt like every cent of your hard work had gone to waste.
there’s only a grin on his face, “you’re so attractive when you’re mad, baby.”
that was another thing: the lack of seriousness that gojo possessed at times, simply talking to piss you off, simply living to be the bane of your existence. “and you’re fucking unbelievable, gojo satoru. clean up— or don’t,” you made sure to lace that last word with venom, “i don’t care.”
that seemed enough for gojo to snap out of his stupor, “no, no— princess, fuck, i’m s—” his brows furrow when he briefly spots the thickening glaze of your eyes, possibly filling with tears before you’re marching into your room to slam the door and he swears to himself. satoru had never felt embarrassment and shame and sadness like that day; having just taken a shower but his skin was sweaty and uncomfortable and his heart sat right at his feet.
gojo swears he never wants to hear you say his full name ever again.
since then, it’s been a little tense between the two of you. geto had noticed it on movie night, shoko realised you haven’t been looking at your phone as often. hell, even prof. yaga had to tell you that you were distracted way too much lately, and it’s only been two days.
satoru tried to possibly take back what he said with whatever powers he didn’t possess, but he only gets another sigh from you as you squeeze the toothpaste out and start brushing your teeth, not even sparing him one glance in the mirror.
and yet while he was the first one to start his nightly routine, he’s left to be the last again from the way he’s unable to stop staring at you, a recurring trait of his whenever you were in the same room with him. it’s a testament of how attracted he was to you — at how his shirt slips off your shoulder from how big it was because even when you were mad at him, you forgot about that little detail. gojo’s eyes trail from your exposed shoulder to your legs and back up again to your fatigued face. he skims over the shape of your eyes and down to your nose and he thinks he’s the luckiest man to be brushing his teeth beside you now, blessed with seeing such an intimate side of you even if it’s as simple as this.
until gojo’s eyes fall upon your mouth as your toothbrush is doing its job of perfect innocence, cleaning some teeth, scraping off the bacteria on your tongue, except when you’re switching it from side to side all your roommate can think about if it was his dick instead. and the thought leaves him as fast it comes.
all you do is shoot him a weird look through the mirror when gojo exclaims like he was a vampire whose skin burned under the bathroom lighting, and he regains composure with ease.
“i’m fine! fine. doing a-okay.” satoru speaks through the foam and it’s spraying everywhere and you’re too tired to care before you hear another gulp when you move your toothbrush again, “sorry! sorry— continue please.”
gojo is starstruck for an entirely different reason, now, watching the toothbrush making bulges at the side of your mouth as it moves in and out and he’s left to fantasise about the many, many times you’ve gotten him in you and the warmth of everything. he can feel himself get hard under his sweatpants when you start brushing your tongue and you gag and he wants to die standing in this 30 square foot bathroom because the last thing he wants to do is sexualise something perfectly mundane.
gojo isn’t like that (well, most of the time. can’t blame him for finding you smokin’ hot).
“what the fuck is your problem?” you’re speaking through your foamy mouth now, spitting it out and proceeding to clean up with no clue of what you do to him. satoru on the other hand — terribly excited that you’d even open your mouth to talk to him after two days of endless silent treatment.
“nothing, baby. it’s nothing, i promise.” you can’t lie at the way your heart jumps at the familiarity of it all, of being in such proximity to your lover, doing domestic things like these and the ‘baby’ and yet your pride is holding you back on everything.
you go straight to sleep, too, not wanting to entertain anything related to gojo satoru and you feel just a little bad when he looks at you with those baby blues and a sweet pout on his face. he looked especially pathetic in the bathroom, like a deer caught in headlights at just the presence of you and you want nothing more to apologise. it’s never that easy, though; you needed a promise, you needed the reassurance that he wouldn’t be leaving you to clean up after him again.
all these worries are willed away when you finally fall into slumber in your own room, body craving the warmth of satoru unknowingly. you had stolen a pillow the day before and it’s been the sole source of his scent, the only thing to keep your mind sane.
gojo’s heart drops again upon seeing you already deep in sleep, thinking he had a chance to catch you before you did, but the needines for you never goes down even now. he cannot take his mind off the way you’d run your hands through his hair or tangle your legs with his, satoru’s limbs recall the memory of you playing with his fingers and how you like to curl your arms around his neck. 48 hours is enough for him to go insane, and also maybe at how your leg was propped up on his missing pillow, hugging it so tight to your chest. you hadn’t bothered to wear pants either, so all he can see is the shape of your cunt under.
he stalks into the room and kneels in front of you, finger so tempted to run along your folds and make you wet, staring a whole minute and weighing his options until decides he doesn’t deserve it, turning away and closing your door softly.
“going now, satoru.” it’s soft when you mumble it, not even wanting him to hear before you’re stopped. you’re donning the uni orientation shirt and eyebags, a soggy sandwich from yesterday staining your bag with its smell. “what?”
“made you somethin’,” gojo’s cute like this with a frilly apron and hair band, still managing to tower over you despite the adorable get-up he’s got on, “it’s a bento.”
and you wish you could just melt the pride that runs through your bones and kiss him all over, and you break just a little. a small smile and you walk up to him, grabbing the lunchbox and pecking him softly on the cheek, turning away fast enough to not catch his fangirl moment — because you knew you wouldn’t be able to make it on time if you did.
“we still have to talk later when i come back, okay?” you call out as you put on your shoes and you steal one last glance at him, “and today’s laundry day. you know what t—”
“yes ma’am!” gojo salutes and you roll your eyes with a small smile, locking the door behind you with heat on your cheeks and the pounding of your heart. it was difficult not to break when it came to satoru, when he’s trying so hard to win back your words and love, and so tonight you’ve decided after the tiring week is when you’d finally stop running away over such a small matter.
although, gojo got caught up in something way beyond your expectations even if he had his initial intentions (which involved ordering your favourite takeout and kneeling at the front door in apology).
your roommate lays around for a bit before grabbing some lunch and heading to the back room, a little extension attached to the kitchen with a tune on his lips. it’s clear he’s a little driven by your little innocent peck, a sign that maybe you weren’t so mad any more. for the next hour, satoru is contently doing the laundry with a smile, until—
the panties you threw in before showering must have fallen to the bottom of the pile, the same one he saw you wear last night and he thinks maybe the low humming buzz he heard last night wasn’t his imagination because when he picks it up he can smell your arousal. there’s a stain from the previous night and another pool of juices from this morning and he now knows that it wasn’t the kettle.
“dirty girl,” he grins, “both yesterday and this morning?” he’s thought about this for the longest time, always holding himself back because you found him weird enough even before you were dating, always letting you do your own separate load for your undergarments. but since you’ve gotten together, you were more comfortable, throwing it into the same laundry basket — the compulsion has never been this strong before.
gojo puts it up to his nose and smells like the pervert he is, among other times: teasing you with a hand down your pants when the two were over at your dorm, fucking you in the kitchen as they focused on the movie, pounding into you with the windows open, and he almost ascends at the scent of your pussy juices. there’s a spark that goes down right to his core and he palms his bulge unconsciously, coming to his senses when the washing machine beeps.
he impatiently puts in the settings and leaves, heading straight for your room and is hit with all reminders of you. the perfume you used this morning and the body wash you share with him, walking almost under a trance to your bed where he moans at the softness of the sheets as he falls face first. it doesn’t take him much to scoot to your pillows, but the need for you is just too much.
gojo grinds his cock into the bed, whining softly as he whiffs up your natural body smell, hips moving on their own accord as he manoeuvres a pillow between his legs. he humps it like a dog, groaning and moaning and the strain on his dick is just too much, balling up the undies in his hand and his body tenses at the friction.
“baby . . f-fuck—” satoru’s voice is high-pitched and choked, all the thoughts of you culminating into one big ball of desperation for you and he cums in his pants, tainting the fabric a darker colour than before. but he’s not done — his hips still move against the pillow, thrusting into the fluff as he rides out his orgasm, moans muffled by the pillow. “miss you . .”
gojo misses you more than anything, feeling so much distance even within the house that he flips over — by now the sun shines its golden rays a little less. the afternoon is winding down into a cool evening — and pulls at the waistband of his pants. he’s still sensitive, wrapping a hand around his hard cock and pumping and the sound that leaves his mouth is borderline slutty. with another smell of your cunt, he strokes his dick, using his cum as lube.
“oh . . r-right there— mhnng . .” satoru’s hips buck into his hand, squeezing and thumbing at his cock before unbundling your panties and wrapping them around his shaft. the sight drives him insane. sure, it’s one of your more everyday underwear, neutral in both design and colour but he can feel the fabric get wetter and wetter from how much cum he’s pushed out earlier and that’s enough to keep his hand pumping. “s-sweetness, cummin—”
gojo’s head makes a dent in your other pillow from how hard he was pushing it, back arching at how the warmth in his hand will never compare to your mouth or pussy. he can already feel his second orgasm approaching, your room filled with the squelch of his cock and his sounds and he shoots his load with a drawn out moan all over your panties and his stomach. his cum is always so much, dripping down his pelvis and onto his hand and also . . yours?
your boyfriend lets out the girliest scream you’ve ever had the pleasure of hearing, scrambling up to the headboard when he sees you hovering over his body. he accidentally kicks your chest in the process and you have to clutch it with a small “ow”, although a small smile is still present on your face.
“having fun?”
“dude, what the fuck?”
your smile drops, “dude?”
gojo suddenly has his hands moving frantically, “nonono— no, sorry, i meant baby!”
you sigh, sitting back down on your heels as you take in the sight: his still hard cock and the sweat lining his body. his bangs are wet and your eyes flit down to your soiled underwear.
“uh . . i was just borrowing it,” gojo nervously chuckles, handing the cum-filled panty to you and your brows furrow.
“darling, you can’t just give someone back their clothes with your come on it.”
and your boyfriend pouts again, “i really am sorry. and for everything else, too. for not cleaning up and for being a general bum,” this is why you also (sometimes) favoured his unseriousness when you were talking about difficult things. the amount of times you had succumbed to his touches and kisses when you were mad at him was much better than your pride. gojo brings you onto his lap like his dick wasn’t just out, and you relish in the closeness you’ve missed.
“i need you to show me you mean it, ’toru,” he lights up at the nickname he loves just as you point a finger in his face, “aht! calm down. don’t think we’re all buddy-buddy again.”
“i will try,” gojo is smooth, taking your hand into his while the other brushes the hair away from your eyes. you lean into the touch, “and i will try until you see my efforts.”
you smile at his honesty, “and i’m sorry for ignoring you as well. it was childish of me.”
gojo hums, bringing your face in to plant a kiss to your lips, “i missed you like crazy, princess.”
you laugh, “yeah i can tell, i miss you too.” you gesture to all of him and he whines softly at the joke, squeezing your waist.
“you’re not weirded out?”
his breath hitches when you move down his body and situate yourself between them, finger tracing his tip and teasing him, “why would i be? i’ve literally fucked myself wearing your shirt.”
gojo gulps loudly, “you did w-what?”
“i’m just better at not getting caught.” all words are taken from his lips then, when your mouth engulfs him and the feeling of it is just pure insanity. gojo pants and his thighs tense, a hand gathering your hair into a ponytail to keep it from interfering. his eyes fixate on the way your suck him off, recalling the last time he’s watched you do that was in a damn bathroom.
“y-your mouth—” satoru swears under his breath when you swirl your tongue around his shaft, the tip of his cock making bulges on the side of your mouth and it only leaves him calling out your name time after time.
“y’know,” you gargle on him, slurping up his cum, “i know what you were thinking starin’ at me last night.”
gojo snaps his fingers and mumbles out a shaky damn, because he can always be read like an open book. he just didn’t know he was that obvious.
“looked cute staring,” you mutter around him, “like a little puppy.”
you slap his thick length on your tongue, moaning when you feel just how heavy it is, “you just wanted this so bad, didn’t you?”
gojo whines at your words, nodding, and you go back to the abuse on his dick, bobbing your head up and down as your hand plays with his balls. the other moves over his torso, at the porcelain skin there and you can feel his stomach heaving at your ministrations.
“are you close, baby?” you ask mindlessly, the lewd sounds of his fat cock in your mouth sending sensations right down to your sex as well. you never really listen to his answer, taking a deep breath and sucking in your cheeks and soon you’re deep throating your lover.
“mh— mmf . .” sounds deep from your throat as your nose buries itself in his pubes, and satoru struggles to hold your tantalising stare. he can feel his tip hit the back of your throat and his moans are quick and high-pitched.
“cumming— ’m cumming,” before you come off and you go back to your pace and gojo’s small moans descend into longer ones at the feeling. his eyes roll back right into his skull as he twitches in your mouth and soon he’s spilling right into your throat and tongue.
“baby—” satoru’s eyes are squeezed tightly shut, “s-shit . .” and the sheer amount of cum always takes you off guard, sputtering over it when you drag your lips off of him. your boyfriend’s eyes are hooded and darkened, looking at how the strings of his semen droop from your mouth and connect right to his weeping tip.
“eugh, eat more veggies, ’toru. you’re bitter as fuck.” you say with a giggle, swallowing nonetheless as you wipe a hand across your mouth, “thanks for the meal.”
his spirit has certainly ascended, chest heaving and legs jelly from that mind-blowing orgasm. even he takes solace on the headboard, looking down at you with tired eyes.
“but i’m not done,” you truly weren’t, driving satoru to the brink after you’ve milked him to his limit, and yet he wouldn’t have it any other way as he thrusts into you, having had a new burst of energy after seeing your confidence wane once you’ve gotten his dick in you.
it was cute — your words breaking up and staggering as you sink down for the first time after two days, reduced merely to whines as you ride him. gojo lets you have your fun for a bit before he properly flips you over, pressing down on your lower back.
“fuck yourself onto me, baby,” he can tell you’ve missed him too by how you squeeze around him, a sly grin on his face when your hips push back onto him. he sees the tight hold you have on the silk sheets and the soft whimpers leaving your mouth. “good girl . . juuust like that.”
you’re jerking forward when he slaps your ass, letting it ripple from the force of both of his hand and your hips. but he takes over soon enough, grabbing both your arms and pulling you gently off that you’re hanging limply. and even while he does that, he’s still focused on the way your lips spread to accommodate him together with a ring of white at the base of his cock.
“that feel good? huh?” gojo mumbles, loving the way you arch your back and your head lols forward, just letting him do whatever he wants to you. you’re too far gone to even quell the ache in your thighs, too distracted by the wetness of your pussy.
“feel s— s’good, satoru—!” you moan out and like always satoru is indecisive in everything, now tugging you up to rest chest to back. “g’na cum!”
your legs spread more and more as your lover keeps you tightly pressed against him, an arm around your neck and the other, waist. wordlessly, he guides your face to the side, meeting your mouth in a sloppy, drooling kiss and his hips stutter at the way you mewl into his mouth.
“that right, princess?” he asks into your lips, relishing in your face contorting in pleasure. eyes reaching heaven and your mouth parted cutely even more when he props a leg up and his cockhead presses against your cervix ever so lightly.
“y—yeah . .” it’s a mix between a whine and a moan before the only rub of your clit from satoru’s hand sends you reeling and you’re trembling in his hold. you can feel your juices coat his length just as he cums as well, too obsessed with the way your cunt feels aeons better than his pathetic hand. he litters your skin with groans of his own, continue to fuck his cum back into you as you milk him dry with ropes and ropes of semen painting your womb white.
“good little girl,” he hums, and you sigh at the feeling of him cumming again, sensing him removing himself with you with an obscene pop! and you want to continue. you’re already moving your hips yet again, begging with small please’s but the happy-go-lucky song of the dryer interrupts the both of you. you scowl.
gojo laughs into your neck, and you’re left grumbling as he sets you down gently, letting you catch your breath before he presses a kiss to your sweaty cheek.
“i’ll handle it, baby,” satoru made a promise to you and he’ll keep it. he hurriedly pulls his sweatpants over his bottom half, “you just rest up.”
it’s not even two minutes later that you already miss him, trotting over to the laundry room in nothing but his shirt and you just watch as he removes the clothes with a certain tranquillity and delicateness that you’d like to see this sight more often and all you can muster in the moment is your arms around his middle.
and the sweetness of the moment is immediately ruined by gojo, “let’s fuck here. whaddya say?”
your roommate and lover can only grin when you turn him around to smack him (“it’s!” slap “not!” slap “sanitary!” slap “here!” slap), finally happy everything’s back to normal. satoru simply presses a kiss to your temple.
#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk fanfic#jujutsu kaisen gojo#jjk gojo x reader#gojo smut#gojo satoru smut#gojo satoru x reader#gojo x reader#jjk thirsts#gojo x you#satoru gojo x reader#satoru gojo smut#gojo satoru x you
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When MC Climbs into Bed With Them
🕷The Demon Brothers x gn!reader 18+
🕷wc: 1439
🕷summary: Unable to sleep, you sneak out of your bedroom into the dark, empty halls of HOL.
🕷warnings: one spank, food mention
Lucifer
“What is it that you think you’re doing?” Lucifer’s words are soft, but annoyed as you pull the covers back to climb into his massive bed beside him.
“Sleeping,” you answer with a roll of your eyes.
Lucifer spanks your ass sharply, “Did you just roll your eyes at me?”
You hum, rolling over to face him. It’s late and he looks exhausted. His hair is ruffled and his bare chest distracts you for a moment. You’re one of the few who could ever see him not put together.
“Couldn’t sleep?” he whispers as he pulls you close, ignoring the yawn you release as you drape your leg over his hip.
“Nightmare,” you murmur as you settle into his side, melting underneath his hand as he strokes the top of your head.
“Sleep. I am here to protect you from all dangers, even those in your sleep.”
Mammon
“Wah! What?!” Mammon is startled awake when he feels his bed dip. “Asmo, I swear if you’re trying to do my makeup in my sleep again for your Devilgram, I will end you right where you stand!”
“Ooh, so threatening,” you giggle as you get into his bed.
Mammon instantly relaxes as he turns on his side to face you. “What are you doing here, Treasure?”
“Can’t I come sleep with you when I please?” you smile as you bite back a yawn. Mammon nods, too tired to put on his ‘too cool’ facade.
“Of course, Treasure. But you shouldn’t be roaming the halls so late at night. Call me next time and I’ll go to you.”
“Shh, sleep,” you giggle, wondering if he’s noticed you’re wearing a shirt you stole from him earlier when he was at a gig.
“And don’t think I didn’t notice you stole my shirt, you little thief,” Mammon murmurs as he falls asleep once again, pulling you close to his chest.
Levi
“I’m sleeping!” Levi huffs as he tugs the blanket up to his chest. His computer was still whirring as it shut off, and you knew he must have just climbed into his tub.
“It’s just me, Levi, not Lucifer,” you shake your head as you tiptoe closer and make him scoot over. He does so, muttering something unintelligle.
“I couldn’t sleep,” you state as you tug the blanket from him and he groans as he makes room for you. He had stayed up 36 hours playing a new game and now he needed some rest. Levi was just realizing he hadn’t seen you much during the day and he’d missed you.
“Plus, I wanted to see you,” you whisper, feeling him go rigid before he turns to face you.
“Yo-you did?” he stutters. His cheeks are warm and pink and he hopes it’s dark enough in his room to hide them.
“Of course, I did. That pillow you gave me isn’t enough for me, Levi. I needed you,” you admit as you drape your leg over his hip and guide his hand to your waist.
“Didn’t you miss me?” you ask as you press your forehead to his. Levi ignores the wild pounding of his heart as he locks eyes with you.
“I-I did,” he whispers, closing his eyes for a moment as his cheeks burn hotter from embarrassment.
You don’t say anything else, simply lean forward to kiss him goodnight.
Satan
Satan briefly looks up from his book when his bedroom door opens. The small light attached to the hardcover allows him enough light to read.
“Go away, Mammon!” Satan huffs when nobody enters after a second. He knew Mammon liked to sneak around late at night to see what he could take to sell. Satan was still owed for his cursed book on transmutation.
“It’s just me,” you chuckle as you close the door behind you. You head straight for his bed, climbing in beside him.
“What are you doing up so late?” Satan asks as he shuts his book. The kitty ears of his bookmark stick out from the top, and you smile warmly when you realize he uses your gift quite often.
“I couldn’t sleep. I figured you’d still be up and welcome me into your bed,” you whisper as you snuggle into his side.
“You were correct,” Satan states as he raises his book and opens it to the page he left off. “Get comfortable.”
You do so, your head rests on his shoulder as he reads aloud. You soon drift off to the sound of his voice and Satan smiles to himself when he notes the cute way you sleep.
Asmo
“Beel, I already told you, you can’t eat my-” Asmo blinks when he spots you. “Oh, I thought you were someone else.”
“What did Beel want to eat?” you ask curiously as you climb into bed with him. Asmo giggles as he raises the covers and you spot his matching pajamas.
“My new avocado mask,” Asmo sighs heavily. “He came in here saying I was hiding food and raided all my new skincare products. I barely stopped him from eating my mask.”
“Whoops!” you giggle as you settle in beside him. Asmo admires you for a moment, his arm draping over your waist to pull you close.
“I see you did your skin care routine for once,” he smirks as you wiggle your butt toward him. Your back meets his chest and he kisses your shoulder. “I knew you could be good for me.”
“Asmo,” you huff, but soon lose all annoyance when his hand slips under your t-shirt.
“Shh, darling. Get some sleep.”
Beel
Beel had his back facing the door when you opened it slowly. You figured he’d been sleeping for a while as you noted Belphie wasn’t in bed.
Carefully, you life the covers and nearly scream when Beel rolls over to face you. You thought he’d been asleep!
“What are you doing here?” he asks as he stuffs his hand in a bag of chips.
“You scared me!” you hiss as you get into his bed, making sure there’s no crumbs beneath you. If Lucifer knew he was snacking in bed, and you knew of it, he’d have you sweeping the floors with a toothbrush.
“You’re the one in my room, Cupcake,” Beel chuckles as he eats a handful of chips. You hope he’s almost done with them because you came here to get some sleep. You had grown tired of tossing and turning in your bed. You need Beel’s large arms wrapped around you to keep your bad dreams away.
“Couldn’t sleep,” you murmur as he pats his fingers on his sweatpants. His bare chest gets your attention as he tosses the empty chip bag onto the nightstand.
“I’m here now, Cupcake,” he assures you as he pulls you close, his arm draped over your waist as he pulls you close. You nod, yawning into his broad chest as he places his nose over your head. He inahles the scent of your hair, smiling softly.
Though you couldn’t cure his insatiable hunger, you definitely dulled it. He was glad you had sought him out tonight.
Belphie
“Levi, go away!” Belphie huffs as he hugs his pillow closer to his face. He was trying to sleep after a long day and only five naps. Levi had asked him to play some new game Belphie had no interest in and promised to cook dinner tomorrow so he could get another nap in.
“It’s just me,” you whisper as you get into bed with him. You figured he was hiding from Levi up here.
“Oh,” he responds as he opens his eyes a tiny bit. He raises the covers for you to climb in beside him.
“Why are you up?” he asks with a yawn. His hair falls over his eyes and you gently push it away. You hadn’t seen him all day and now you realized how much you missed him. It was hard going about your day when he slept for most of it. Often you’d join him on his naps, not getting out of bed except to eat and shower, but today he’d been holed up with Levi.
“Missed you,” you admit as you replace his pillow. Belphie rests his head on your chest as you gently stroke his hair.
“I missed you, too,” he says as he blinks owlishly. He knew he should try to stay awake but he was just too tired. “Tomorrow we’ll go out. Just the two of us.”
“I’d love that,” you grin, meeting his gaze for a moment. “Sleep tight, Belphie.”
Belphie kisses your cheek before he snuggles closer and falls asleep once again.
©devildomcuties - I do not allow reposts or translations of my work on any platforms.
#obey me fanfic#obey me#obey me x reader#obey me x reader insert#obey me reaction#obey me shall we date#obey me imagines#obey me x mc#obey me headcanons
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Demon Brothers as Subs Headcanons
Almost didn't post this 'cause I'm feeling self conscious about it for some reason. So here's me being brave. I told y'all I was in a smut phase. I'm so sorry. Just gonna drop this and run, see ya.
GN!MC x the demon brothers
Side Characters as Subs Bros as Doms
NSFW MDNI
Note: There are a lot of warnings, but most of this stuff is just briefly mentioned. These are headcanons of things they'd be into.
Warnings: Dom!MC, bondage, blindfolds, gags, toys, praise, humiliation, degradation, spanking, edging, orgasm denial, collaring, begging, dacryphilia, role play, voice kink, dirty talk, biting, hair pulling, exhibitionism, shibari, food play, hot wax, breath play, blood kink, somnophilia. I THINK THAT'S IT.
Lucifer
He won’t do it until he’s comfortable with you. It takes some time, a little coaxing, and constant reassurance. You have to earn his trust if you want to see him being vulnerable. Once he’s agreed, though, you find him surprisingly compliant. He’s ready to take every order, easily falling into the role of obedience.
Once he’s fully comfortable with you, Lucifer likes to release all control. He wants to be told what to do, to surrender fully. He loves to be restrained. He enjoys watching you take the time to tie him up carefully. He’ll surprise you by requesting a gag. He likes to feel a bit helpless, like he can’t even speak to you, completely at your mercy. He appreciates a blindfold for the same reason.
Just as he wants you to give him orders, he wants you to enforce them, too. If he fails to do what you ask, he wants you to punish him for it. Lucifer has a high pain tolerance but a low humiliation tolerance. Pulling him over your knee for a spanking would be effective, but he might ask you to use an implement simply because he knows your hand won’t be enough. If he does manage to say anything about it, though, he’s blushing and refusing to look at you because the embarrassment is really the worst part. If you do punish him, it won’t be long before he’s whimpering in your lap, promising to be good and begging you to touch him.
Lucifer will swear you to secrecy. If you ever tell anyone, MC, especially his brothers, about any of the things he says and does during these times, he’ll kill you himself. These are empty threats, of course, because he wouldn’t do any of this at all if he didn’t trust you to keep it to yourself. He just feels the need to threaten you about it because it makes him feel better.
Mammon
He doesn’t have as much of a hang up about this and will readily agree to sub for you if you ask him. He’s going to be slightly embarrassed about it, but not enough for it to be an issue. And once you get into it, his embarrassment dissipates because he’s so focused on how good you make him feel.
Mammon is the one with a praise kink. He doesn’t like punishments and is far more likely to respond well to positive reinforcement. If you want to rile him up any time and any place, all you have to do is call him a good boy. He might even do things for you without you asking just to see if you’ll say it.
He also enjoys being tied up. He likes to feel that he’s entirely in your hands. He isn’t too fond of gags because he likes to be vocal. He’s always babbling the whole time you’re doing anything with him and it’s usually all begging. If you tell him to be quiet, it will be difficult for him. And anyway, it’s far more satisfying listening to him cry and whine and repeat your name over and over.
Mammon likes to be considered your property. If you want to collar him, he’s happy to wear it. He doesn’t care who sees it and if someone asks, he’ll tell them about it proudly.
While praise is his preference, he’ll be okay with a little humiliation, too. Please talk dirty to him, MC. Call him your little slut and he’ll be agreeing with you and asking for more.
He loves accessories and toys. Put that man in a harness, give him a cock ring, or one of those shiny bejeweled anal plugs. He loves to dress up for you, especially if it's in something sparkly or gold.
Also loves to be fucked. Let him sit in your lap and ride you (or your strap) and he’ll lose himself entirely. He won’t last long, but he’s also ready to go again quickly.
Leviathan
Although Levi is clearly the subbiest of subs, he’s also extremely nervous. You gotta calm that anxiety a little bit if you want him to make it through the experience without having a heart attack.
Because of this anxiety, he might not be willing to do it for a little while. He needs a bit of reassurance, to feel fully safe with you, before he’s willing to try it. Make sure you talk to him about everything ahead of time and establish some solid safe words.
Once he’s agreed, though… well, we all know Levi is the one with the humiliation kink. And not just calling him names, he wants you to degrade him. Tell him how useless and gross he is. Just make sure you give him some after care where you tell him that you don’t actually think that way about him. He won’t realize how much it matters to hear you say that until you do.
Alternatively, surprise him by praising him instead. It will shock him so much, he might start to cry. D-do you really mean that, MC?
Turns out, Levi is a bit of crier in general. It’s the embarrassment. He blushes so easily and when you make him feel good, especially in a humiliating way, he can’t help the physical reaction of tears. They’ll end up streaming down his cheeks by the time you’re done.
He’s not sure about punishment at first, but if you suggest it he’s willing to try it out. This can range from orgasm denial to spanking. He’s surprisingly receptive once he gets comfortable with the idea. He might find he prefers to be good, but occasionally he can get really bratty. So you might have to get a bit creative to bring him back in line. When you do, it flusters him so bad he doesn't do anything even remotely brat like for a long time.
Satan
Easily the most stubborn when it comes to getting comfortable enough to sub for you. It’s going to take a lot of trust and reassurance, even more than Lucifer. But eventually, you can convince him.
He will be much more receptive if you include something cute like a cat collar or even a maid dress. He likes the way you react to him and he also just likes to wear those things himself. They make him feel like he can let his guard down a little easier.
Satan does not like humiliation and will not respond well to this. He needs a gentle touch. He loves praise and a little pampering - he will be happy if you focus all your attention on him. He’ll accept a soft dom situation best. Tell him he’s a good boy, but be firm when you need to.
He has a voice kink. Tie him up and blindfold him then read erotic stories or romantic poetry to him. If you really want to rile him up, whisper dirty talk in his ear. He won’t like insults, but he will love to hear you describe what you want to do to him.
Satan also likes pain. Bite him, please, he wants to feel your teeth in his flesh. He likes the way the marks look on him, too, but he’ll insist they only arise in locations he can easily hide. He’s too embarrassed to let anyone else but you see them.
Requires plenty of after care, kisses, and praise. Take care of him well enough and he’ll even suggest it himself next time. But if you ever breathe a word of it to anyone else, he'll be in demon form so fast you won't know what hit you. Be careful because he will turn the tables on you, MC.
Asmodeus
Not even a question. Asmo is ready to do whatever you want, any time. He will sub for you without question, but don’t misunderstand him. He likes doing both and although he’s willing to do just about anything, he still has preferences.
He likes to be worshiped. He’ll indulge you if you want to humiliate him, but he thrives on being told how stunning and beautiful he is. He just wants to hear you say that he’s the only one you’re interested in, whether it’s true or not.
Although Asmo doesn’t have a problem with things that leave marks, he’s hesitant to do anything that could cause lasting issues for his skin. Just be careful with his delicate body, MC! But he’s also willing to let quite a bit slide in the name of feeling good. He does like a little pain with his pleasure and his favorite is hair pulling. Doesn’t leave a mark and it's easily fixed in the after math.
He also enjoys being on display. He always wants to have mirror sex or semi-public sex. If you’re into exhibitionism, he will agree to that readily. Let him perform for you (and anyone else who happens to be around).
Similarly, he’s happy to take orders that involve doing a strip tease or a lap dance. He likes to do role play and will dress up as anything you want. Also loves shibari, tie him up in some beautiful knots, please.
Finds punishments a little funny. He can get a little bit bratty about it. But if you seem like you’re really annoyed with him, he’ll switch to being obedient real quick. But he enjoys things like orgasm denial because oh what a rush! He sees it as a challenge. How much can he take? Far more than you’re likely anticipating.
Beelzebub
He will absolutely sub for you if that’s what you want. A very good boy who is willing to do just about anything to make you happy. He’s not embarrassed about it at all and he’s ready to dive right in.
Generally, he’ll do anything you want. Very easy, very compliant. He likes when you give him orders. He likes when you tell him what to do. He knows that if he does well, you’ll be happy with him and he likes that.
Beel likes praise, but he doesn’t have a problem with humiliation, either. In fact, it’s a little difficult to really humiliate him. He’s not easily embarrassed or flustered, he’s solid and steady, so you’ll have to work hard if that’s what you want. He likes to use a title for you, like master or whatever variation you prefer.
He considers any kind of food play a reward from you. If you involve the usual things like whipped cream or chocolate, he sees it as you doing something special just for him. And he’ll work hard to please you, even more than usual. Thank you for this treat, MC.
He can take a lot. He enjoys pain. Biting, spanking, hot wax, even choking, any of the above will be something he enjoys. He likes that he can feel both pleasure and pain at the same time. It gives him a rush and he gets excited about it, almost without meaning to. Similarly, he enjoys being tied up, blindfolded, or gagged. He likes when you’re in total control of him.
The only thing Beel really doesn’t like is edging. He’s fine with overstimulation, but edging will frustrate him. He can’t take too much of that and will absolutely devolve into begging you for release pretty quickly.
Since he's basically impossible to embarrass, he has no problem telling anyone and everyone what you get up to with him. You might have to be the one to tell him to keep it to himself, he just doesn't understand why anyone would care.
Belphegor
He likes the idea of subbing because he thinks it involves less work for him. But he is by far the brattiest sub of all the brothers. So he’s right because you’re the one with your work cut out for you. Be prepared to become a brat tamer.
He’ll take easy orders, but give him anything too involved and he’ll get petulant. Surprisingly, responds well to you being rough with him. If you’re going to be the dom, he really wants you to dominate him. He likes it when you manhandle him.
Yes okay he likes the breath play. But he also enjoys pain in general. He has a blood kink. Bite him and make him bleed. He’s gonna love any kind of vampire role play, he’ll straight up drink your blood if you want him to.
Belphie wants you to humiliate him. Tell him he’s a dirty whore, use him however you like. If you let him, he'll dish it right back to you, though.
Obviously into somnophilia. Is he asleep when you wanna fuck him? Go right ahead, MC. He doesn’t need to be awake for you to make use of him. Though if you start, he might wake up just so he can get off, too. If that happens, expect him to mouth off at you until you take him in hand.
Belphie is another one who will wear a collar all the time if you want him to. He likes strappy leather things and will gladly wear a harness or any other such items. He doesn’t care too much about blindfolds or gags, but he does like being tied up.
He doesn’t care who knows about the way he submits to you. If you want him to wear a collar, he’ll make sure it’s visible to everyone. Similarly into exhibitionism. It feels like he’s almost daring anybody to say anything about it.
side characters as subs | bros as doms | side characters as doms masterlist | Thank you for reading!
#someone put me out of my misery#obey me#obey me nightbringer#obey me smut#obey me headcanons#obey me x reader#obey me lucifer#obey me lucifer x reader#obey me mammon#obey me mammon x reader#obey me leviathan#obey me leviathan x reader#obey me satan#obey me satan x reader#obey me asmodeus#obey me asmodeus x reader#obey me beelzebub#obey me beelzebub x reader#obey me belphegor#obey me belphegor x reader#misc naughty times#misc writes
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the comfort of home - percy jackson
Request: yes! "Hii, I just finished watching both episodes of PJO and I wept as I beheld Sally's maternal love unfold on the screen, knowing it before hand from the books. Thus, I was pondering if you might entertain a request—a tale where a daughter of Hades (angsty) forges a close bond with Percy, and Sally, in her gracious warmth bless her soul, adopts her into their lives because, after all, they're nearly kin, entwined by the delicate threads of almost-cousinhood." Pairing: percy jackson x hades!reader Summary: after a typical day for a demigod, you just need a safe space to go Warnings: mentions of fighting, injuries, blood, throwing up, swearing, angst Word count: 2k A/N: first of all anon are you a writer?????? bro those words..... pls write more !! thanks for your request, enjoy!
you're walking down the streets of new york city, feeling utterly miserable. you're soaked through because of the rain and you're hurt.
everyone knows that demigods don't exactly live a quiet life. especially kids from zeus, poseidon or hades. still, most of the times you're fighting for your life you're on a quest.
not simply on your way home.
but today was different. somehow you brought not one but all three of the furies down on you. you don't even know how, you weren't doing anything.
it was a tough fight, but you stood strong. you couldn't prevent the dozen little cuts that littered your body. you're bruised over and on top of that it started to rain, messing with your sight.
right now you're on your way to your foster home. but it's a slow journey. you're not sure you want to go there. and you're not sure how much the mist hides for them.
sometimes if you got home all bruised you told them you got in a fight. sometimes they didn't spare you a second glance.
you stop in the middle of the street. at this point you've been walking for so long you don't even notice the rain anymore.
you turn around, heading another way. there's one other place you could go. you're lost in thought, and most of the people don't pay you any attention. perks of living in new york, you guess. new yorkers just don't care.
when you get to the familiar building, you feel a sense of calm coming over you. somehow you always found yourself back here. as you walk up to the entrance, someone leaves just as you arrive, so you can slip in the door before it closes.
you walk the stairs slowly because of your injuries. every step hurts and takes tremendous effort.
when you finally get to the right floor and walk to the door, you just stand in front of it. you're fully aware you're dripping rainwater on the floor, but suddenly you can't bring yourself to knock.
why are you even here? you don't want to be a burden.
they've told you that you can always come over, no matter what. but it's late at night, it's raining outside, you're soaked.
you're standing there, debating wether or not to go in, when you hear a voice on the other side of the door.
the person is softly singing along to a song that's playing.
tears well up in your eyes as you recognise the song. you were the one to recommend it.
you raise your hand and knock on the door.
'coming!' says the voice.
moments later the door opens to reveal a woman.
her eyes briefly widen at the sight of you, scanning your body for injuries. then her eyes soften.
'oh, what happened to you, sweetheart?' says sally.
her gentle voice is what pushes you over the edge, breaking down in tears in front of her.
sally pulls you over the doorstep and closes the door. she pulls you into a hug, not caring that you're soaked.
you wrap your arms around her and cry. you let all of the anxiety rush out of you as sally rubs circles on your back and whispers soft words in your ear. you ignore your aching body and allow yourself to just be here in the moment.
after a while, sally pulls back and holds you at an arms length.
'I'm so sorry for dropping in like this, miss jackson.' you say softly.
'y/n, you know you're always welcome here. and I've told you to call me sally.' she says kindly.
you nod. 'is percy home?'
'he's out to the movies with grover. do you want me to ask him to come home?'
'no, he's out having fun. it's alright. could I just..'
'why don't you take a shower first, hm? I bet you're freezing.'
you sigh softly. that does sound good.
'yeah, alright.'
'you go take a shower, then I'll make tea and see if I can do something about that.'
she pointedly looks at the cut above your brow. you totally forgot that was there.
'I don't have any clothes.' you say softly.
'that's alright, just borrow some from percy. he won't mind.' says sally.
'thank you.'
you walk towards percy's room to get some clothes when sally calls your name, making you turn around again.
'you're not a burden, you know that right. we love having you over.' says sally.
you swallow back the new tears that threaten to fall. sometimes you forget she knows you so well.
'thanks.' you say, entering percy's room to get some clothes.
you pick a shirt, sweater and sweatpants form percy's closet before going into the bathroom.
you peel your soaked clothes from your body, hissing when you pull the fabric from your wounds.
turning on the water, you get in the shower, letting the water calm you down. you wash off all of the dried blood, dirt and sweat.
after drying off you put on percy's clothes, his scent surrounding you and comforting you.
you head back to the living room to find sally putting two steaming mugs on the table.
'we still got your favorite.' she says, sliding your mug towards you.
'thanks.'
'drink up, and tell me about today if you want. I'll see if we have some medical stuff left in the kitchen.'
you sigh, thinking back to today.
'I didn't even do anything.' you say. 'I was just walking down the road and I got this feeling I was being watched. I thought it wasn't a big deal but hey, demigod instinct, so I took a turn and went into an alley. sure enough, someone followed me.'
'someone or something?' says sally, returning with the first aid kit.
'someone at first. then the mist cleared and it was one of the furies.' you say. 'at that point I was just so done. I wasn't even on a quest so what the hell was she doing there?'
'how did you get away? you've fought a fury before, percy told me.' says sally, scooting her chair closer to you so she can clean the cut on your forehead.
'I have. it's okay if it's one. but then the other two showed up.' you sigh. 'at that point I was really annoyed. I think it was just annoyance that drove me at that point. they were clearly there because they were bored. they thought "hey smells like demigod, oh look it's the hades kid, let's mess with her."
'well, you're here now. you made it out.' says sally, finishing with the cut on your forehead.
'yeah. thanks again.' you say, sipping your tea.
'you don't have to keep thanking me.' says sally. 'you know you're always welcome here, you're practically family. I know you don't like your foster home. now, do you have any other wounds?'
you chuckle. 'only about two dozen little cuts and even more bruises. I've had worse, it's okay.' you say.
'it's never okay.' says sally. 'you and percy are way too young for this.'
you shrug. 'and yet we have to deal with it.' you say, rolling up your sleeves so sally can clean and bandage the cuts on your arms.
the next hour is spent by sally cleaning your wounds and bandaging you up as she tells you stories. you liked hearing her stories. ever since you first met her, it was one of your favorite things about her. she could tell stories in a way that felt like you were actually there, experiencing them.
just as she secures the last bandage in place, you briefly close your eyes, exhaustion getting to you.
'you can get some sleep, I'll tell percy when he gets home.' says sally.
'it's okay, I want to see him before I go to bed.' you say.
'alright, want to watch a movie of something?'
'movie sounds great.'
sally picks a movie while you sit down on the couch. it doesn't take long for you to doze off, even though you fight to stay awake. the fight with the furies was intense, so sally lets you sleep while she waits for percy to home home.
about halfway through the movie, the door to the apartment opens and percy enters.
'hey mom.' he says, taking off his shoes and jacket and dumping his bag near the door.
as he walks into the room, he notices a familiar sword leaning against the back of the couch. he frowns, he didn't know you were coming.
'is y/n here?' he says, walking over to his mom.
she nods, pointing to the couch.
percy looks over the back of the couch to find you fast asleep, wearing his clothes and your body littered in bandages and bruises.
'what happened?' says percy, walking around the couch.
'the three furies.' says sally. 'she didn't feel like going to her foster home.'
percy kneels before the couch, studying your face. he reaches out and traces one of the bruises on your cheek.
you stir awake from the movement, your eyes meeting percy's.
'hi.' you say softly.
'hey. you alright?' he says.
you nod. 'how was the movie?'
percy chuckles. 'it was good. you would have loved it. heard you got in a fight?'
'yeah. those damned furies.' you say. 'luckily your mom patched me up though.'
'you know my bed is more comfortable than the couch, right?' says percy.
you slowly sit up. 'I know. I wanted to stay awake til you got home.'
'and you did a great job at that.' says percy with a familiar twinkle in his eyes.
you hit him on the shoulder. 'you would have fallen asleep as well!'
sally watches the exchange with a smile on her face. moments like these make her especially happy you met percy.
'come on.' says percy, standing up and holding out his hand for you to take.
you take it and allow percy to gently pull you to your feet.
'thanks again sally.' you say as percy beings leading you to his bedroom to sleep in an actual bed.
'no need to thank me y/n. it's always good to have you around, even if it's like this.'
you and percy both say goodnight to her before entering percy's room.
'so, did you sugarcoat the story for my mom?' he says as you sit down on this bed.
'not really, I just didn't tell her all of the details.' you say.
percy raises an eyebrow at you. 'details like?'
'like how one of them punched me in the gut and I nearly threw up because of it.' you say.
'ew.' says percy, face scrunching up in disgust.
'you would have thrown up as well.' you say.
'but you managed to fend off all three furies on your own?' he says.
you nod, laying down. 'I think I bruised a rib, though. the rest is all small cuts and bruises. no broken bones this time. they looked like they were really fucking annoyed they could be bested by just one kid.' you say.
percy smiles, walking over to kiss your cheek, careful not to touch the wounds on your face. 'that's my girl.' he says.
'you got anything to do tomorrow?' you say, stifling a yawn.
'nope. we can spend the day here.' he says, walking over to the bed an laying down next to you.
'good.' you say. 'I just need to wash my clothes and clean my sword, and I should probably-' 'y/n.'
you look at percy.
'let's just relax tomorrow, okay? come on, you need sleep.'
you nod, moving closer to him.
as you're laying next to percy, feeling sleep get to you once more, you can't help but to feel a deep sense of gratitude.
sally didn't question why you showed up at her doorstep, but pulled you in her arms and sat with you to bandage your wounds and listen to your story.
percy listened to you as well and provided you familiar comfort you needed, telling you to relax.
you just know if something ever goes wrong, you're always welcome at the jackson household.
A/N: If you want to request something, make sure to read my house rulesHere’s the list of characters I write for. Everything that I have written can be found on my masterlist. Please don’t repost my work, as I spend much time and effort on it!! Thank you for reading! Much love, Marit/Max
#honestly had a blast writing this#also sally <3#her relationship with percy on screen is sooo good#pjo#percy jackson#Percy Jackson x reader#Percy Jackson x hades!reader#Percy Jackson fanfiction#Percy Jackson fanfic#Percy Jackson fanfics#Percy Jackson fic#Percy Jackson oneshot#Percy Jackson oneshots#Percy Jackson x child of hades#pjo fanfiction#pjo fanfic#pjo fanfics#pjo fics#pjo fic#pjo oneshot#pjo oneshots
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Heyyy, I just saw that you were taking requests for Tangerine x Readers, and I was wondering if you could write something like Tangerine and reader being fwb before the whole bullet train thingy, and she catches feelings but he's super distant (bro has serious attachment issues) so he pushes her away and is a bitchy manchild about it (LOTS AND LOTS OF ANGST but it has a fluffy ending) (smutty too if ur comfortable with it) ofc u can ignore this request if u don't want to, and I'd write it myself but I have zero motivation rn and I js wanna cry and then giggle😭🫶
And I Have To Live With It, For the Rest of My Life
Tangerine x fem!reader
WC: 3.4k
CW: HEAVY ANGST; slut shaming; booze/being drunk; fighting; cursing; lack of aftercare; mentions of sex; Tangerine is a HUGE asshole. Tiny fluff ending.
A/n: Hi love! Thanks for requesting! Sorry this took so long I just needed to find inspo. I’m also sorry for the lack of smut (and fluff tbh,) I just don’t take smut requests. As for fluff, I did want a “happy ending” but it felt cheap to try and go from ANGST to “everything is perfect again” in such few words. Maybe I’m just traumatized, but I have a hard time forgiving quickly lol and I think that shows here.
Everything was really, really good.
So of course you had to go and ruin it.
People say you can’t control matters of the heart and you think that it’s a load of bullcrap. Why not? Why couldn’t you have control over your heart?
And why did you have to catch feelings for Tangerine?
It isn’t part of the deal. Tangerine is a business partner. An acquaintance. A friend. A friend you occasionally fuck.
Your relationship with Tangerine was always supposed to be casual. No strings attached- business was simply business and fucking simply fucking. But then your heart got involved.
What’s one supposed to do?
Certainly not keep going back to the captor of one’s heart.
So of course that’s exactly what you do.
You’re laying in your hotel bed, completely naked, covers pooled around your waist. You and Tangerine just finished having sex and he’s already up and moving about, throwing on his clothes that had been discarded on the floor somewhere in your flurry of lust. Instead of saying anything, you just watch him in all his glory. You admire his tousled post-sex hair, curls askew, the way his back muscles ripple as he bends down to sweep his shirt up off the ground, and the way his fingers deftly button up his shirt.
“Got a meeting to head off to?” You ask casually.
Translation: Please don’t run off so soon if you don’t have to. Stay.
Tangerine’s eyes flit to yours briefly before he bends down to tie his shoes, “something like that.”
“Mhmm.”
You pull the covers up to your neck, suddenly feeling very vulnerable so bare and exposed to Tangerine who’s nearly fully dressed.
“You got a comb?” the brunette asks you gruffly as he straightens his suit jacket.
You nod towards the bathroom, “yeah, in there.”
He gives you no reply, only walking into the bathroom and shutting the door with a resounding thud.
Your stomach clenches painfully and your heart aches. The indifference with which Tangerine treats you hurts so badly. You’d rather him hate you then act like this. At least you’d know that he felt something, anything.
Is it too early for a drink?
The bathroom door opens again and Tangerine walks out, looking as though nothing ever happened. To him, nothing probably has. Nothing of consequence, at least.
“Well, I’m heading out. See you for our debrief tonight at nine.”
Tangerine begins to walk towards the door.
“Wait!” you call out.
You stop him just in time, his hand frozen on the handle. You swear he visibly tenses at your words, “what?”
“Could- could you at least get me a towel? Please?”
He doesn’t even look at you before nodding, “Yeah.”
He disappears into the bathroom for a moment before reappearing with a towel in hand. Tangerine, it seems, doesn’t even have the decency to walk the towel over to you. Instead, he tosses it across the room, almost hitting you in the face.
“Thanks.”
Shame pools in your stomach and you keep your gaze on the towel in your hands.
Tangerine grumbles a reply and then makes for the door so quickly that there’s no chance for you to say anything more.
Your heart sinks at the possibility that Tangerine might know you have feelings for him.
*****
You’ve already found a secluded spot in the hotel lounge and have a drink in hand when the twins appear downstairs. They take a seat across from you wordlessly and Tangerine lifts his hand in the air gracefully, motioning for a cocktail waitress to come take his order. Lemon and him order their drinks, and you ask for a second. It bothers you severely when you catch Tangerine winking at the waitress out of the corner of your eye.
You down the rest of your drink in one gulp and ignore how it burns your throat.
“Right, so the job’s done. When are we getting out of here?” Lemon asks tiredly.
“We,” Tangerine says, pointing between him and his brother, “are out of here first thing in the morning, “I’ve booked our tickets for a 5 am flight.”
“And her?” Lemon responds, pointing to you.
Tangerine barely glances at you, but you can see his jaw tense, “the job’s done. Figured she’s a fucking big girl who can handle getting herself home. Isn’t that right, love?”
Condescension drips from Tangerine’s words and it makes your stomach drop. You refrain from saying what you really want to and instead assume a relaxed persona, “mhmm, always right you are. I arranged for my travel last night.”
You, luckily, weren’t lying, though you had ordered a car big enough for three. More room for you, you guess.
The waitress comes back with your drinks and you eagerly take yours. When she asks if you need anything else, you can tell that she’s really only talking to Tangerine. Still, you tell her yes, asking for a third drink.
Lemon eyes you, “you haven’t even touched your second drink and now you’re ordering a third?”
You shrug your shoulders nonchalantly and lean back in your chair, “I’ve got the money to spend on it now that we each just made what, nearly 12,000 pounds?”
Lemon smirks in celebration and holds out his drink to you, “cheers.”
You clink glasses but Tangerine doesn’t join in, a perpetual frown gracing his face.
“Ya really wanna get fucking sloshed before ya travel tomorrow?” the brunette suddenly chimes in- rather judgmentally, you might add.
“Who said anything about sloshed, Tangerine? I can hold more than you think.”
While your answer is confident, even combative, on the inside, your heart leaps into your throat and pounds desperately. You think you might explode.
“Still, ya certainly don’t have any self-control. Not over ya drinks, your mouth, and most importantly….” Tangerine’s eyes narrow at you, “not over ya emotions.”
Your heart sinks in your chest.
So Tangerine did know about your feelings. Worse? He’s being a right fucking prick about it too. There’s no emotional sensitivity, no respect for privacy, nothing. Serves you right for fucking a cold-blooded assassin.
Unfortunately for you, tears spring to your eyes despite the fury boiling in your stomach, “you wanna talk about control, Tangerine? Let’s talk about how you have so little control over your own feelings that you lash out at others and make them feel like shit, even your own brother, so that you feel better. Let’s talk about how you can’t keep your dick in your pants because you’d rather fuck anything that looks at you than deal with anything real. Let’s talk about how what’s happened between us has made you feel so out of control that you’re willing to go low enough to hash this out in fucking public. You’re a walking disaster, Tangerine, and I feel right fucking sorry for you, I really do.”
You stand up harshly and purposely knock his drink onto his expensive suit. You start to walk away and then turn back, batting your eyelashes innocently, “oh wait, should I get you a fucking towel to clean up? Or would you rather beg me for it?”
You don’t wait for a response and grab a dry towel off a random cleaning rack, throwing it right in his fucking face.
*****
Tangerine glares after you as you storm off.
“What the bloody fuck was that all about?” Lemon protests.
Tangerine ignores Lemon and instead curses loudly before chasing after you. He could not let you have the last fucking word. He catches you right in time, hand stopping the doors of the elevator you’re in.
You look up at him startled, and your shocked expression is quickly replaced with an angry one.
“What the fuck, Tangerine? Get out of here!”
“Ya don’t get to fucking talk to me like that and spill my drink all over me and then just walk away.”
“Why not,” you scoff, “you ran away as soon as you were done using me to jack off. It only seems fair.”
The elevator doors slide shut and the car begins to move upwards slowly.
“Yeah, well that’s usually what happens when ya casually fuck someone. But I don’t think ya have a casual bone in your body- always stomping around being a dramatic attention-whore.”
Tangerine watches your eyes narrow and jaw harden, “there’s a difference between being causal and being a huge dick, Tangerine. I should’ve known you’d be the latter.”
“And I should’ve known not to mess around with a fucking slut like you.”
Your eyes widen in shock and even Tangerine knows that he’s taken things a little too far. While your effort to fight back your tears is valiant, it’s fruitless, and they begin to stream down your face.
“Fuck you, Tangerine. You know, I never expected you to return my feelings, and I’m sorry I crossed a line by falling for you. Swear to fucking god I wish I didn’t. But you- you’ve just crossed an unforgivable line, and I never want to see you again. Have a fucking nice life.”
The elevator doors slide open and you scurry out. This time, Tangerine doesn’t follow you.
*****
After everything that happened with Tangerine on your last mission, you decided to take an indefinite hiatus from work and just focus on yourself.
One of your goals? Fuck your feelings for Tangerine out of you. So of course, you’d been spending a lot of nights out at the bars, seducing all the eligible bachelors of the city into your bed.
You hope that it’s working.
Tonight is no different from the rest- you dressed up in one of your sexy outfits sitting at the bar of some new local pub. You’ve already eyed a muscular blonde about your age from across the bar and motion for him to come over.
He complies and makes his way to you, a cocky smirk on his face.
“Hey gorgeous,” you tease, looking him up and down.
The man takes a seat next to you, “Hullo, love. What’s a pretty girl like you doing sitting at the bar all by herself?”
You shrug nonchalantly, “looking for a handsome man. Like you, I suppose.”
He cocks his eyebrow at you, “you suppose?”
“Always hard to tell in this type of lighting.”
The blonde bites his lip and eyes you, “I can promise you I’m handsome.”
“We’ll see.”
“I’m Matt,” he says, extending his hand.
You respond with your name and grasp his hand. You’re expecting a handshake, but instead he brings your knuckles to his lips and kisses them softly.
“Pleasure to meet you.”
Damn this man is smooth.
“Really, the pleasure is all mine, Matt,” you respond, trying not to appear too flustered.
“Can I get you a drink?”
“Yeah, sure. Surprise me though.”
Matt orders the two of you drinks and you take the time to ogle him. He’s perfect.
But not as per-
Nope.
No, you don’t have time to think about him.
Matt hands you the mysterious concoction and you eye him, “what is it?”
“Just drink,” he nods, “promise it’s good.”
You take a small sip and it’s sweet. It’s yummy, and you take another, larger sip.
“Oh shit, this is good.”
“Told you.”
“Can I know what it is now?”
“No way. Need to hold this above you so you keep coming back to me to ask for another.”
You chuckle and look down, “okay Mr. Smooth-Talker. That was pretty good.”
“I can do a lot more than that,” he says seductively. His hand slides out casually and finds a home on your thigh.
You inhale sharply in pleasant surprise and lean towards him, “oh really?”
Matt leans in towards you too, “yeah, like-“
Just as you’re about to kiss him you hear a loud shout.
“Hey, get your hands off her!”
You startle at the sound and turn to see who could possibly be yelling like a maniac inside this bar. You’re also curious to know who’s the one getting yelled at.
Your stomach drops when you realize that you’re the target. And the yeller?
Tangerine.
“Oh my fucking God,” you curse, resting your forehead in your hands.
Tangerine comes stalking towards you.
“Uh, who the fuck is that?” Matt asks warily.
“My ex….fuck-buddy? Friend-with-benefits? I don’t know, it was complicated. But a piece of shit- that’s what he is.”
“What the fuck are you doing, mate?” Tangerine yells at Matt when he approaches you two. His words slur together and you can tell he’s really, really drunk.
“I could ask you the same thing,” Matt says gruffly.
“I’m not the one getting handsy with someone else’s girl,” the brunette snarls.
You scoff loudly, “Your girl? That’s rich Tangerine. Last I recall I was just a slut you fucked.”
Tangerine’s expression softens just the slightest and you almost think you clock regret in his eyes.
“Look, mate, you’re drunk. So get your ass out of here before I hand it to you,” Matt threatens.
Tangerine is sent back into his rage and steps toward Matt menacingly, “you little fucking,”
“Okay,” you shout, stepping in between them and putting a hand on each of their chests, “that’s enough.”
“Tangerine, go. home,” you growl.
“Yeah fucking right I-“
“Just let me take him,” Matt interrupts.
You scan his tense body, “Look, I appreciate it, but you’re not gonna win. Tangerine here is, well, trained. And I don’t want anything to happen to your pretty face. I’ll take care of him.”
“But he’s definitely stronger than you,” Matt protests.
You side eye Tangerine, “he won’t hurt me.”
The blonde’s eyes narrow.
“Physically, at least.”
Matt finally sighs and steps back, “I’ll be waiting here for you.”
You send him a half smile and then turn to the brunette with a glare, “Let’s. Go.”
Then, you literally grab him by the ear and drag him outside the bar. Tangerine lets out a string of curses and tries to fight back a little before he finally gives up.
When you get outside you let go of his ear and shove him, “What the fuck was that, Tangerine?”
“I was trying to protect you from that git,” he slurs.
“Tangerine, you’re the git. You’re the one that hurt me. It’s you I need protection from.”
Tangerine’s tough guy facade crumbles right before your eyes into one of remorse. He suddenly looks years beyond his age and crumples down onto the sidewalk, back pressed to the wall.
You look down at him with disgust. His hair is all over the place, his clothes are a complete mess, and he reeks of booze.
“I’m calling Lemon.”
With shaky hands you dial his number.
He picks up rather quickly and you can hear the confusion in his voice when he answers, “uh, hello?”
“Lemon, come get your fucking brother.”
*****
Although Matt was everything you could’ve hoped for, your night was ruined after Tangerine left. Luckily, Matt was understanding, and you’d exchanged numbers to meet up another day.
When you’d gotten home from the bar, you’d broken down completely. All of the anger, betrayal, frustration and sadness that had been pent up within you for weeks burst forth like a raging storm. You’d sobbed and screamed and even pitched a picture frame of you, Tangerine, and Lemon across the room, shattering it. The broken glass was a problem for later-you, and you’d ended up falling asleep on your couch, still in your bar clothes.
Loud bangs are what startle you awake hours later, and you curse as you flail off the couch. You hit the floor with a thud and groan. Now, not only is your head pounding, but your back will be all beat up too.
The pounding on your door continues and you curse whoever is making a ruckus this early.
You yank the door open, “what the fuck do you want?”
The last person you expect to see is on the other side.
Tangerine.
“Fuck off,” you spit before swinging the door shut resoundly.
Except the door doesn’t close because Tangerine’s foot catches it.
“Fuck me,” he groans in pain.
The brunette shoves the door back open and you smirk, “that’s what you get for being in places you don’t belong. Now get the hell out of my apartment.”
“Wait, wait. Please, just give me a chance to talk to ya. And then, if ya want, you never have to fucking see my face again.”
You don’t reward him with a response and instead just walk away, sighing.
Tangerine takes this as an invitation and walks inside your apartment, letting the door shut gently behind him. You beeline straight to where you left off on the couch, paying him no mind.
The idiot must not be paying attention because you hear the crackle of glass beneath his shoes and a quiet curse.
Tangerine goes silent and you stiffen, listening closely. You hear the pings of shattered glass being sifted through and then his footsteps as he nears your spot on the couch.
“I forgot about this picture,” he rasps.
“Well you can fucking have it. I don’t want it anymore.”
“Can I- can I sit?”
You briefly glance over at Tangerine and look him up and down. You don’t respond, only nodding.
Though he, like you, is still in his clothes from last night, he looks ten times worse. The purple bags under his eyes are heavy and dark, his hair and mustache aren’t groomed, his button up is missing a few buttons, and his shoes are untied. Maybe it’s bad to say, but you revel in how miserable and pathetic he looks.
“You look fucking awful,” you remark, venom heavy in your tone.
“And ya look like you’ve been crying.”
“Well no shit, Tangerine. Sort of happens when someone you thought was your friend turns out to be a big fucking prick. “
He looks down at his feet and shuffles awkwardly, “I know. I’ve uh, that’s why I came here to talk to ya. To apologize.”
You scoff and look at him with disbelief, “okay now you want to apologize? Only when you’ve fucking hit rock bottom you wanna mend things?”
“Love, no I, I’ve been wanting to since that night in the fucking elevator I-“
“Don’t call me that,” you whisper angrily, lip wobbling in spite of yourself.
“I’m not your love, I’m not your friend, I’m not your anything anymore. We’re done Tangerine, this is over.”
It’s then that the boy you’ve known for almost five years does something you never would have imagined.
He grovels.
He literally gets on his knees before you and grabs your hands tightly, looking up at you with pleading eyes.
“Just listen to me for a second. Please. I want ya to know how fucking sorry I am. Not just for last night, but for everything. I’m sorry I called ya a slut. I’m sorry I was rude, and distant, and an asshole. I’m sorry for fucking you like some piece of meat and then just leaving you behind with no aftercare, no attention, nothing. I’m sorry for being a terrible friend and I’m sorry for not telling you that I love you sooner.”
Tears shine in Tangerine’s blue eyes and he chokes on his next words, “Christ, I love ya so fucking much. And I know I’ve gone and fucked things up now, and that it’s too late. And I have to accept every day for the rest of my life that it’s my fault. I have to live with that. And I will, even though it could kill me. But I don’t know what I would’ve done if I couldn’t tell ya at least once.”
Tangerine’s forehead falls to your knees and his body begins to shake in quiet sobs.
He inhales sharply through his nose, trying to hold back more tears, and looks up at you so sadly. “You’re the best girl out there, and you deserve the best. You deserve to find that with someone. Someone who isn’t me.”
Tears of your own begin to drip from your face and your heart throbs in your chest.
You reach out and cup Tangerine’s jaw so gently it’s as if he could crumble under your fingertips at any second.
“Tangerine,” you whisper.
You search his eyes for any sign of insincerity, of some sign that he’s going to break your heart again. But all you see is true, genuine adoration and vulnerability. Consciously or not, your heart returns to the hands of the one who holds and you pull him in, kissing him softly.
The kiss is sloppy, and salty and wet, but you don’t care, because every peck and sigh and bite is punctuated by what you both know- I love you. I love you. I love you.
#tangerine x reader#tangerine angst#tangerine and lemon#tangerine fic#tangerine fanfiction#lemon and tangerine#tangerine bullet train#tangerine blurb#tangerine fluff#tangerine#tangerine x fem!reader#tangerine x y/n#tangerine x you#tangerine bullet train x you#tangerine bullet train x reader#tangerine bullet train x y/n#bullet train x reader#bullet train tangerine#bullet train movie#bullet train fanfic#bullet train fanfiction#bullet train tangerine fic#tangerine hurt/comfort#aaron taylor johnson#atj#bullet train#bullet train lemon#tangerine one shot#bullet train tangerine one shot
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ㅤ ꣑୧ㅤㅤ:ㅤCANDLELITㅤㅤ𝒻t.ㅤㅤ성혼
﹙10097﹚ SYNOPSIS . . . the dating scene sucks, especially when the only person you want to be with is your roommate.
꣑୧ GENRE . . . roommate au, 'i hate them but they're hot' kind of energy
꣑୧ WARNINGS . . . profanities, drinking i mean lots of drinking we need alcohol shortage here, sunghoon smokes, mentions of one night stands, one very suggestive make out scene in the fourth section, undertones of cheating but not from sunghoon or reader, implications of sex although it's very light
꣑୧ NOTES . . . hi ( _ _; ) drowning in nervousness as i'm posting this. it's my first long fic after months ... i think the last one was in may or june 23 ... so please be nice >< don't know why but this didn't turn out how i wanted it to and it's definitely not one of my proudest works, but i hope u guys like it nonetheless huhu TT happy reading and please rb and drop feedback, it's highly appreciated ^_^
001. WHERE THERE’S HEAVEN THERE’S HELL
sunghoon is spiralling again.
a part of it is because of the endless assignments from classes, but that’s no news. he knows it’s his fault for procrastinating and waiting till two days before the due date to even think about working on them— unlike jake who somehow attends classes probably four times a week and is seen in the football fields instead, and still manages to be the first one to submit his essays. it’s admirable, annoying at most. when he sat down to do his sports science project three days before it was due, sunghoon realised why his professor gave them two months to finish it.
but realising your mistakes and working on them to be a better version of yourself are two different things.
for one, sunghoon believes those assignments are useless. no one cares about the impact of sports on society, maybe except heeseung and jake but again, in sunghoon’s mind, those two are never important. second, he’s too perfect to be working on himself. sunghoon is the best version of himself. he was born the day his uncle died, and his dad inherited the entire chain of restaurants his family owns across the country. he’s too amazing to be worrying about getting a degree he can buy— he thinks the university should be honoured he’s choosing to study— but that’s simply because his mother doesn’t want him to turn out like his sister.
back to the matter at hand— as he puts the beer can on the table and sits back on the couch, his eyes travel to the door yet again. seventh time in just a minute, he’s keeping a record of how you make him wait.
if there’s one thing he hates is being irresponsible ( coming from the great king of irresponsibility himself. ) you said you’d be back by twelve, and it’s half past one in night and not a soul knows your whereabouts. thirteen texts, seven missed calls, his phone is at forty-one percent and sunghoon is at his limit. if it wasn’t for your mom he wouldn’t give two flying fucks about where you are and how you’ve been.
sunghoon is actually surprisingly obedient and well-mannered, as opposed to the popular belief. he gave you and your mother the whole tour of the apartment the day you moved in. even made some coffee which isn’t much but your mother had loved him. he could see it in the way she looked at him with those sweet eyes, holding his hands as if he was her own son, and asking him to look after you.
‘please take care of my daughter,’ sunghoon thought he was getting married. instead of a wedding bell there were warning sirens going off. to this day he doesn’t know why she asked him that, minutes after she saw a dead cactus in the balcony that he killed by overwatering. he couldn’t even say no to her and just nodded, looking over at you briefly and noticing how you look like you were a bit embarrassed. sunghoon doesn’t know why he’s so serious about ‘taking care’ of you. he thought it would be easy, but you had to be devil’s favourite spawn and sunghoon happens to be your target.
however, he can’t take this anymore. he has a morning class and waiting till two am while drinking beer has done more damage to sunghoon than it should. he gets up from the couch with a sigh, leaving the empty cans unattended for a night as he makes a mental note to clean tomorrow. it isn’t until a click from the door stops him in his tracks.
“i’m back,” your voice is quiet, a yawn following immediately after your words as you look down while taking off your shoes. you’ve been drinking again, sunghoon can tell it from a mile away.
“you’re late,” he speaks over the silence, hands on his torso as he’s giving you those squinted eyes and doubtful looks. if sunghoon didn’t know any better, he would assume you fucked someone at the club with how messy you look at the moment.
“yeah well, we had to take gigi to the hospital,” your lazy voice isn’t much louder than a whisper. you stumble towards your room, a hiccup followed soon after by the same quiet and slurred tone. “she ate something weird,”
he huffs at your words, knowing it would very well be just another excuse. “you could’ve at least texted,”
“my phone died,”
“i’m sure your friends would be happy to lend you their phone,” he pauses when he feels himself getting a bit annoyed. a soft sigh falls off his lips as he looks down at the tiled floor before looking up and speaking in a much calmer voice. “i’m just saying it’s not exactly safe to be out alone on the streets this late at night,”
“i wasn’t alone,” that piques his interest. “jay drove me back,”
and sunghoon felt his whole world stop. “jay?”
“yeah, jay, park jongseong,” your voice is surprisingly sweet when you take his name and it bothers sunghoon for some reason. his face scrunches up when you bite back a smile, hoping it’s the alcohol not because of what he thinks it is. “he’s nicer than i thought,”
sunghoon is not unfamiliar with the name park jongseong.
he hears it every day on and off the campus, more often than he likes. first things first, he’s just as popular as jake, for being american, which brings sunghoon to the question— why in the world would he leave america to study in korea when jay could have attended one of the ivy leagues with his face and money?
and the second and more important question, why in the world is park jongseong dropping you home at two in the night?
sunghoon only watches you in disbelief and astonishment as you stumble to your room, mumbling something incoherently. your words ring in his ear like sirens. ‘he is better than you’ jay is better than sunghoon. he scoffs almost offensively in your direction. that has to be the biggest lie of the twenty-first century.
he follows you to your room, reaching out to grab your arms when you almost trip but you manage to balance yourself. he opens the door and turns on the lights for you. “why were you with him to begin with?”
“oh, you don’t know?” and you turn around with eyes wide open as he shakes his head like a deer in the headlight. “he asked me out,”
sunghoon didn’t get a single ounce of sleep last night.
it’s your fault, clearly. had you been back earlier on the time, nothing would’ve happened. and jay— sunghoon sights at the thought of him, eyes narrowing as he grits on his pen as if he’s going to break it into two.
“dude, are you hungry?” jake pokes sunghoon by his shoulder, dragging the latter out of his trail of thoughts.
“what?” sunghoon shoots a blank look, one that makes his friend sigh in concern. afterall, it’s not everyday he sees sunghoon chewing on a pen. “i’m not,”
“you’ve been out of it since the morning,”
and sunghoon has been out of it since jay’s name fell from your lips.
he’s not your friend, definitely not the first guy you’ve called by his name after sunghoon. but something doesn’t sit right. even after tossing and turning in bed for the whole night, he can’t figure out what bothers him more— the fact you said jay is better than him, or the fact that he asked you out on a date.
it’s the first one, he convinces himself. who you date is none of his business, he can’t be arsed enough to care about your love life or relationship status. ( although, he does care a little because he’s nosy. ) what bothers him more is that jay is, to put it in simple words, a player. all that face and no empathy for emotions is a waste, and to think you don’t know this— or maybe you do and yet still chose to go out with him, is beyond sunghoon’s comprehension.
“what do you think about jay?” he asks abruptly, catching jake’s attention, looking at him a little too intently for an answer.
“he’s a nice guy,” a casual reply before he gets back to his assignment before jake looks back at sunghoon with newly found interest. “he turned in my spanish essay last week, oh and drove me back from the bar a few days ago after you ditched me. why?”
sunghoon simply shakes his head, getting back to his books even though his focus is nowhere near studies. at this point, he doesn’t know if it’s jay distracting him or you. even your words keep playing over and over again in the back of his head. jay and nice in the same sentence doesn’t seem fit. sure, he helps his friends and drops his girl back home, but that’s only three days before there’s a new girl in his arms.
002. RUNNING OUT OF SANITY
sunghoon doesn’t hear the door click open when you come back from your classes, too busy in the balcony while humming a tune that you recognise immediately. you take off your shoes, noticing how he taps his foot along with the melody, and it’s quiet in the apartment, apart from the sound of traffic and wind rustling through the trees around.
“i don’t like people who smoke,” smoking is not on your list of likes, but you find yourself next to sunghoon whenever he’s with a cigarette. just like now, when you return from yet another one of your dates— or meet-ups as you prefer to call it right now— with jay. it wasn’t really planned. you bumped into him after classes and he was on his way back home, so you asked him for a coffee.
he almost jumps at your sudden voice but manages to compose himself, scowing at the distaste in your expression before scoffing, the cigarette still dancing between his lips. “good think, i’m not looking forward to be liked by you,”
he studies the frown on your face, glares as if your eyes are shooting daggers in his direction. it’s amusing to him how easy it is to get on your nerves. he leans against the metal railings, hair falling over his forehead. his eyes stay on your for a few seconds before he holds the cigarette between his index and middle finger, putting it away from his mouth and blowing out the smoke in your directions. he laughs mockingly when you step back, fanning out the smoke with your hands, cursing under your breath.
“are you crazy?!” you exclaim in annoyance, coughing slightly at his poor attempt at entertainment. your frown deepens when he mumbles a quiet apology although not meaning it, from the looks of it, and lifts the cigarette back to his lips.
“you’re back early,” he states casually, tapping the cigarette butt and watching the ash fall down from the balcony before a taunting chortle falls off his lips. “did jay dump your ass or something?”
your nose scrunches up at his actions, although mostly at the tobacco you can still smell in your air. you look down at the road, watching a mercedes passing by. “no, he had to go somewhere so he left early,”
“i knew it! he’s good for nothing,” and he drops the cigarette to the floor, crushing it with his foot even though at the back of his mind, he knows you’re going to yell at him for cleaning that up. “what kind of guy can’t even spend time with his girlfriend?”
“we’re not dating,”
“that’s worse!” he emphasises, and a pause follows as he looks at you with a confused expression. “wait— didn’t you say he asked you out?”
“he did, but he said he wants to wait until exams are over,” there’s a hint of displeasure in your voice. his eyes travel down to your fingers, especially the ring you’re fiddling with before they’re back on your face when you speak again. “we just decided to hang out,”
he practically scoffs at your words, quite literally in disbelief. a knowing sigh comes out of his mouth as he stands straight, this time standing with his back against the railing, feeling the cold metal though his thin white t-shirt. a part of him wants to laugh at your stupidity and point at how naive you are, while another part of him wants to find jay and beat him to pulp. he doesn’t know why there’s anger pooling in his stomach at the mere thought of jay just messing around with you.
“what a sick bastard,” he huffs with a tincture of annoyance in his tone. “how much do you want to bet he’s playing with you?”
“you’re the one who’s sick,” and even though it clicks with him that you’re referring to a few minutes earlier when he smoked all in your face, sunghoon still frowns when you call him sick. “he’s just prioritising his studies, there’s nothing wrong with that. at least he doesn’t smoke while being all up my face,”
you two just bask in silence after that.
he doesn’t have much to say— actually he does, but he doesn’t know how to put it in a decent, coherent way. of course, your reaction won’t be the most pleasant if he told you he wants to punch jay’s good for nothing handsome face. he wonders what you’re thinking when he looks over at you. you seem happy whenever you talk about your supposed ‘future boyfriend,’ yet it’s evident that you’re upset. he likes to think you’re having your doubts too. it's reassuring to him for some reason— because that’s good for you, of course. if you’re upset, you have your doubts, and if you have your doubts you might not fall victim to whatever sick game jay is playing.
“oh, actually, he doesn’t smoke,” but then you speak in a matter-of-fact way, as if comparing him to jay before giving him a mocking smile. “he’s better than you,”
those words ring in his mind for a good while.
you go back inside and he hears you shut the door to your room as an annoyed sigh falls off his lips. hearing that jay is nice from jake was another thing, but hearing to say he’s better than him leaves a bitter taste on his tongue. and he doesn’t know why he’s feeling this way, these little changes in how he usually is, it’s new. it’s frustrating him out.
it isn’t until his phone vibrates that he’s dragged out of his ocean of thoughts. his brows furrow when he notices the time, having realised that he basically wasted the entire noon even though he didn’t attend classes after giving heeseung an excuse that he’s sick. his eyes squint at the sender, and then a groan escaping his lips when he opens to read it.
noh chaeun 4:15pm hoon! my last two classes have been cancelled are you up for some coffee?
sunghoon doesn’t reply, rather leaving his classmate’s messages on seen, too bothered by his inner turmoil to spend time with her. it’s not like him to be this way, to be so bothered over something that doesn’t concern him. you’re definitely not someone so significant and jay is definitely not the first guy you’re with. in fact, he has seen you kiss that guy from one of your classes— as much as he hates to recall that incident now— and had sneaked up to tell your mother about it over the phone when she had called you.
you’ve never had a serious relationship, not after meeting him. in his head, you always came back to him and he’d be lying if he hadn’t joked about it with his friends during the initial few weeks after you had moved in. when he had mentioned to jake that you’re pretty and his friend had teased him a few days later, saying his ‘crush’ was with this other guy, sunghoon, did in fact, say he doesn’t care because you always come back to him; or rather his apartment, actually, but whatever fits the joke.
that day, he had a good laugh out of it and the joke died back then itself, more so after he started complaining about you to his friends. your habits, your actions, the things you say that tick him off, your quirky and quick remarks— everything. perhaps, even about your habit of arriving late on weekends from parties and ruining his sleep because you forget the key most of the time, so he has to wake up and open the door for you, but not guys, never guys.
it hurts his head to even try and figure it out, to find the reasoning behind the pang in his chest every time you mention jay. he likes to think it’s just harmless competition although for no reason, even though both of them have done plenty of things to piss each other off just for the fun of it. sunghoon thinks he can live with it and walks back inside to the living room, until he sees you walking out of your room on phone with someone, the name of he who shall be mentioned rolling off your tongue again, and he finally pulls out his phone with a frustrated sigh.
sunghoon 4:21pm sure, i’ll pick you up in ten
“actually, my mom wants to invite your family over for dinner this weekend,” the girl in front of him speaks with a smile after muttering a quiet thank you to the waiter after he gets their order. “she’s very grateful for the donation your dad made for our art gallery and wants to thank properly,”
“talk to my parents, then,” it’s a simple reply, too bland and forced for her liking.
sunghoon hasn’t spared her a single look in the past ten minutes that they’ve been sitting together at the table. firstly, he doesn’t know why he drove to a restaurant when she asked for a coffee. it’s not even close to dinner time, and the awkward yet sweet smile on her face didn’t make it better for him, so he ordered starters and drinks to drag their little impromptu dinner out.
“sunghoon, to be honest,” chaeun tries to strike up a conversation again, despite the constant lack of effort from his side. “i want you—”
“hey, isn’t that jongseong?” and he cuts her off immediately, finger pointing outside the glass panes beside them as he stares in the direction behind her with brows knit together in shock. “who’s that with her?”
“jongseong?” she repeats the name before turning her head, forming an ‘o’ when she spots a familiar figure through the multitude on the streets. “ah, that’s myung jihye. she has been pursuing him for a while. i guess he finally agreed,”
“they’re dating?!” his voice is full of surprise and disbelief unlike hers, so seemed to be happy for the girl instead. he stares outside with a heavy silence as the couple disappears between the crowd before looking at the girl in front of him.
“oh, i wouldn’t say that…i don’t know but it’s possible they are.” it doesn’t miss her attention how sunghoon’s fingers tighten around the fork. “everybody in our major knows jihye has crush on him and they’re probably a thing by now,”
and he wishes you were here with him right now so that he could show you the true colours of the dear guy you’ve been going out with, the one who’s supposedly ‘better’ than him. he wants you to realise that his words weren’t false and he isn’t sick, after all, and if you’d cry, he would be down to tell you it’s not the end of the world. that there are a hundred other guys better than jay, ones who won’t even breathe in front of another woman, who’d treat you better— hell, i can treat you better if you ever give me a chance— and then a pause in his train of thoughts.
he looks at chaeun, who’s looking back at him with a perplexed look and her own set of questions. his mind replays those words yet again, and he screams internally.
what the heck?!
surprisingly enough, sunghoon has been thinking about jay for the whole evening now, obviously not in a good way. his eyes keep travelling to the knife stand on the kitchen island occasionally and every single time, he has to convince himself that murder is not the right answer to anything.
for some reason, he can’t stop imagining your smiles while on date with jay. not that he has ever seen those— wish i could— as he slaps himself out of his state of mind yet again. not only that man is playing with you but on jihye who’s apparently his girlfriend? he lets out the ugliest scoff known to mankind, because in sunghoon’s head, jay is a sick joke made by biology.
he waits for you to return from your shopping spree for about an hour, having beer as a company. he tries to stay awake although his eyes get droopy, and then every ounce of sleep leaves his body when he hears the door unlock.
“yn,” he practically jumps out of the couch, it almost scares you. he accidentally bumps into the living room table on the way, knocking an empty can of beer to the floor but too busy to bother picking it up. “i have to tell—” his eyes go down to the eleven shopping bags in your hands, as he counts them. “— wait, what did you shop so much for?”
“oh, i have to attend a family wedding next month,” his chest feels warm when he sees you smiling and looking so excited, and it’s making him go crazy on the inside because he doesn’t know what is happening to him. for some reason, he starts imagining you in a gown, like the one you wore for the fresher’s party, but then he forces his mind to get back to the point. “i’m thinking of asking jay to be my date,”
and his heart drops down to his stomach.
this has to be a fucking joke, and he tells himself. for a split second, he thinks he didn’t hear you properly. maybe you said jake because, well, jake did tweet a ‘date for rent’ form five months ago when he needed money to buy tickets for a post malone concert that cost more than his gentle monster glasses ( not that he got any money but at least they got a good laugh out of it. )
you remove your shoes and put the shopping bags on the couch before sitting down as well, letting out a heavy sigh. “you look like you saw a ghost,”
“a ghost would’ve been better,” he catches you looking at him when he mumbles under his breath, sort of grateful you didn’t hear him before sunghoon would rather not have another argument with you over how jay is not only a bad choice, he’s the worst choice.
he looks over at you when you pull out your phone, fingers fluttering over the screen as you text someone with a giddy smile. he considers telling you what he had seen earlier, but god, he loved to see you smile like that. the way you press your lips together to suppress a grin, looking ever so happy as if you have won a lottery. he doesn’t think you’ve ever smiled like that at him, and it aggravates him even more when he realises that you probably smile like that every time you see jay.
jay is getting everything he isn’t deserving of, and it pisses sunghoon off down to his bones.
but again, he can’t bring himself to tell you the truth. you look too happy for your own good, it pains him physically to even imagine your reaction when you’ll come to know the truth. and then he pulls himself together, telling himself that it is your fault in the first place to trust someone like jay and ignore the warning signs he was giving you.
in the end, he leaves without having any further conversations with you, going to bed two hours earlier than usual even though he knows he isn’t going to get any sleep. sunghoon is convinced he’s losing his mind, faster than a day ago actually. he lets out a frustrated groan and covers himself with his blanket, hoping to catch some sleep.
it’s going to be yet another long day tomorrow.
003. A CHANGE OF STANCE
sunghoon thinks you’re hot.
what the fuck?
“i asked something,” you remind, pulling him out of his trail of thoughts and he flinches slightly, making your brows furrow in confusion. “how do i look?”
“huh— what? oh,” he takes in your appearance again. hair down, make up done— you’re wearing your favourite lip tint? and the best dress he has seen you in so far, looking so mind blowing it actually blows his mind and short circuits his brain.
even your favourite lip tint … sunghoon doesn’t know why he’s looking at your lips in the first place but little does he know he’s fucked.
absolutely. completely. fucked.
nonetheless, he manages to compose himself, clearing his throat and sitting up ever so elegantly on the couch, legs crossed, the magazine still in his hands. “you look…t-terrific,”
you can’t help but get even more confused at his words, wondering if it was a bad idea to even ask him for his opinion, even though you play along. “like in a good way or a bad way?”
“in a terrific way,” he blurts out, eyes wide open as panic settles in slowly inside his stomach, and he’s stuttering, shocked, surprised, fucked, again. “you look terrific in a terrific way…so terrifically terrific in the most terrific way possible,”
“are you high?”
well, he would say he is! never in the two years that he has known you did sunghoon think he’d find himself floored, figuratively, and speechless, literally, at the sight of you. and he’s not saying you look bad on other days. you look good, in fact. good as in plain and presentable, but never in a good good way and definitely not in a hot way, of course.
“anyway, i’m going out. receive my parcel for me if it arrives,” you move to put on your shoes, taking a few seconds to pick between the two you think would suit your outfit. for a moment, you consider asking him to help you choose— as you look at him up and down peripherally, and he looks terrified. and you shrug it off, grabbing one of your loafers.
“where are you going?” he asks after a good minute of silence, sounding calmer than earlier as he gets off the couch and walks up to you. his nose scrunches up in disapproval as your hands move to one of your jimmy choos for a brief second, before you decide to go back to your initial pick.
“date,” he takes a moment to register your words, despite this happening many times.
a date. he scoffs softly, looking away, arms crossed.
a date, again. sunghoon doesn’t give a fuck.
“with jay,” you continue, this time with a sweet smile on your face that makes his heart flutter for some reason. maybe, he does give a fuck.
now, sunghoon should feel bad for his fellow friend of a friend because he’s on a date with you, but instead he wants to snap his neck in two. the name is starting to give him an ick— jay this, jay that. you’re hanging out with jay, having coffee with jay, going on a date with jay, shopping with jay, next would be going to bed with jay— he pauses immediately, shaking his head. he doesn’t really like the sound of that.
“whatever,” he tells himself when you walk out of that door, looking all pretty and excited. he doesn’t know why he’s getting so worked up over a date, that too with someone who— according to sunghoon and chaeun— is dating someone else. he would pay to see you back home all miserable and he would point fingers at you and laugh, saying he told you already while you had your conscience and rationality clogged up with the possibility of getting dicked down.
but that doesn’t change the fact that you’re on a date with jay fucking park. and you’re looking hot.
he sighs, slouching back on the couch, looking outside at the bright blue skies and then sighs again. he needs to be lobotomized.
it’s three in the noon and sunghoon is drowning himself in misery and pity. and soju.
a glass after another and then another, along with two empty bottles already on the table. even the owners are giving him a weird look and heeseung can only let him ruin his reputation so much.
“there, there,” the senior takes the half empty bottle of soju from his hand and puts it aside, sighing pitifully at sunghoon. “that’s enough for today. you need to stop drinking,”
“heeseung,” sunghoon looks up at the guy in front of him, looking horribly pitiful, eyes a bit unfocused from the alcohol settling in his system. “do you know yn?”
and heeseung pauses for a few moments, not knowing what prompted him to ask this question. more so when you and heeseung went to the same highschool and even were in the music club. he nods slightly in doubt, raising his glass to his lips. “of course,”
“do you think he’s pretty?”
“of course,”
“do you think she’s hot?”
“of course,” it takes heeseung quite a few seconds to respond and sunghoon sort of wants to punch him in the face for agreeing because he feels a certain way when others find you hot— but he would claim it’s soju giving him heartburns. “why are you even asking this suddenly?”
“she went on a date with jay,” he responds in the most miserable and sullen voice known to mankind. his shoulders practically slouching at the mention of he-who-shall-not-be-mentioned, finger tracing the rim of the glass in front of him with incoherent whines falling off his lips.
“so what?” jake interjects, beckoning the owner for yet another bottle for soju. it was necessary, as heeseung had warned earlier while arriving at the restaurant, considering sunghoon’s impromptu text about wanting to meet up.
“jake, did you hear what i said? she’s on a date with jay. park. jong. seong,” the youngest spells out every syllable, sitting up straight as he gets defensive. “she thinks he’s madly in love with her or something but she’s wrong! the day i went out with chaeun, i saw him with jihye and guess what? chaeun said everyone knows they’re a thing but apparently, yn doesn’t know this. i’ve told her so many times that he is not worth it but she won’t understand she’s fucking dumb oh my god,”
and…silence.
absolute fucking maddening silence that made sunghoon go even more insane before jake finally decides to speak, albeit in disbelief.
“that monologue was unnecessary,” the foreigner pours in another glass for the three of them, filling them up completely, knowing this is going in a new direction yet a one that has been anticipated by both him and heeseung. “besides, since when do you care about her?”
“she’s my roommate,”
“you like her,” heeseung exclaims, and silence follows again for a few seconds before sunghoon gasps scandalously, slamming his glass down on the table which turns a few heads in their direction as jake mutters an embarrassed apology for it.
“i don’t,” sunghoon speaks in a voice much calmer than his previous tone, even leaning in towards the table to put emphasis on his words. jake pours himself another glass, scoff at his words while shaking his head mockingly which only pisses him off more.
“i knew this would happen,” heeseung continues, stating it as a matter of fact while nudging jake to pour him a glass as well. “saw this coming from a mile away when you cried over her going on a blind date the last time you got drunk,”
he can’t point out when that must’ve happened, but he doesn’t refute his words, simply letting his eyes travel across the room for a few moments. the frown on his lips deepens when he meets jake’s knowing gaze as he gets defensive once again. “i’m telling you, i don’t like her,”
“you said that about hello kitty but she’s everywhere in your room now,” he turns his phone with the screen up when he feels jake’s eyes on it, or particularly on the hello kitty sticker on his phone cover as the boy nudges him for another glass. “go on, you’ll need it.”
and sunghoon does, drinking more than he usually does thanks to jake filling his glass again and again for the sake of his sob story. the cab drops him in front of his apartment and he stumbles his way to the elevator. the silence sobers him out for some reason as he leans against the walls of the elevator and thinks about you.
perhaps you’re still with jay, sharing smiles and stories, kisses if you’re brave enough. he likes to think you are not, that you would chicken out— it makes him feel better about himself. he imagines you holding hands with him and then shrugs that thought off his mind just as quickly, huffing at the bitter taste it leaves in his mouth as he walks out of the elevator once it reaches his floor.
sunghoon planned to take a shower and sleep, but every thought water downs to nothing when he spots you crouching next to the door with knees pressed up to your chest. he can’t see your face, but he knows you’re sad, and it makes him stop in front of you, his heart accelerating when you look up at him with glistening eyes.
you look miserable.
and sunghoon has no reaction. he’s frozen, hands on his side as he stares at you. he was supposed to laugh at you for your stupidity. but you look so utterly sad and heart broken, god, he wants to punch jay in his throat. yet again, every single thought leaves his mind when his eyes fall back on your face, his hands instinctively opening out to you as he speaks in a voice as soft as a feather.
“let’s go inside,”
004. CANDLELIT
“he said it was a bet,” you speak over the silence, fiddling with your fingers. you look up at sunghoon— who’s sitting with legs crossed in front of you while you’re curled up in one corner of the couch. “and that he never meant to drag it out for so long but he didn’t know how to tell me,”
“a bet?” he scoffs bitterly, looking away for a fraction of a second before his eyes are back on you. “what an asshole,”
it’s not the first time sunghoon has said that. in fact, asshole is all and the only word he uses to define jay. you still think it was a stretch, for jay isn’t that bad. sure, he lied to you and played with your feelings— which you will never accept that you had feelings for him because you don’t want to look pathetic— but he wasn’t rude. well, at least he paid for all the three dates you two went on with the locations being some high end restaurants or bakeries.
on the other hand, sunghoon stares at you in silence. his eyes trace over your sullen face, and then to your fingers. for a second, he considers holding your hands…roommates can do that at least, right? to comfort one another, but then he catches you looking up at him and he averts his gaze to a distant corner. “don’t start crying now!”
“i’m not! i didn’t even like him that much…” and he can’t help but suppress his smile at the pout on your face as you refuse to look at him. it’s adorable, he never thought he would ever say that, but it’s true. your mannerisms are cute, you’re cute, and it’s eating his brain cells.
“is that so? you talked about him like you two were in love or something,”
“stop it!”
he stares at you quietly for a few seconds again. even though you’re being defensive out of embarrassment right now, trying to prove to him that you’re not heartbroken, sunghoon knows you’ll be crying the moment you’re behind the closed doors of your room. on other days, he wouldn’t care so much. not more than giving a few pats on a back and telling you to suck it up despite the concern in his voice. today, however, he feels differently.
you got played. it’s your heart that’s broken. you feel like a fool, and yet sunghoon is sitting in front of you, trying to find words amidst awkwardness and hesitation. his heart feels heavy for you. it’s unfathomable on his part.
he suddenly remembers the day you mentioned that jay is better than him. he almost scoffs at that, again. well, you might harbour feelings for the american guy but at least sunghoon never had you holding back your tears. and he swears it would never come to that, if you ever have feelings for him because sunghoon would be a better boyfriend— and then he comes back to his senses as soon as those words register inside his brain, cheeks heating up at the sudden thought before he clears his throat.
“do you want ramen?” he manages to change the topic ever so swiftly, getting up from the couch and already walking to the kitchen without waiting for your response. apparently, getting away from you would ease his heartbeat, although hearing your voice has just as much effect on him as your presence or a mere thought of you.
“are you cooking?”
he lets out a breathy laugh at your words, getting two packs of ramen from the shelf. “of course, do you think i’d ask you to cook when you look like you went through a divorce and lost the custodies of all your three kids?”
you frown at his words, although ending up laughing at them just a second later. it’s hard to not laugh at how silly he is sometimes, if you ignore his annoying tendencies. sunghoon puts the water to boil, fighting back a smile at the sound of your laughter. it’s better than seeing you all sad over a guy who doesn’t deserve you.
you get off the couch as well, making your way to the kitchen, wanting to help him since he listened to your sob story. it’s quiet, and you hear slight rumbling outside as you take a quick look at the weather outside through the windows and then within a few seconds, thunder pierces through the silence hanging in the room.
sunghoon flinches visibly, freezing in his stance before the sound of heavy rain fills the kitchen. he turns on the electric stove and it blows out. all the lights in the apartment go out, darkness settling in and disturbed just as quickly as the room fills with bright flashes of light, illuminating your face for a short second before it’s dark again.
“wait, i’ll get my phone— oh,” you reach out for the back pocket of your trousers, quickly get your phone and turn it on for the flash light before it powers off. “out of battery,”
he takes a blind step into the darkness when it thunders again and he notices you standing with your arms around yourself when the light surges in the room for a moment again. he hopes you won’t push him away if he puts his arm around you, but then you two bump into each other. a quiet apology finds its way out of your lips, and he can tell you’re flustered.
“where are the candles?” he asks to distract you from the fact that he’s holding your hand and pulling you aside gently, so you don’t crash into each other again. your hands feel oddly warm in this cold weather, and it only flutters his heart even more.
“second shelf from the right i think,” your voice is interrupted by thunder again and your hands instinctively tighten around his fingers. and then a loud thud follows, causing you to gasp slightly. “are you okay?”
“i can’t fucking see,” his voice is strained, oozing off pain as he lets go off your hands. you open your mouth to speak before he bumps into something again. something falls off the counter, perhaps the spoon by the sound of it and he apologises shortly after. it’s harder to navigate around his own apartment, more than he had imagined.
sunghoon manages to find the candles, setting them on the counter with pure intuition before lighting one of it up with the lighter he always carries around in his pocket. he turns around, almost bumping into you and before he could say anything, he sees you pressed up against one of the counters, face illuminated by the dim candle light.
you’re close, too close, he’s afraid you can hear his heart going crazy at the proximity. his mind is telling him to step aside but he’s too lost looking in your eyes, ( as you are too ) with you looking so impossibly beautiful under the faint golden glow.
“is this okay?” he whispers softly and you simply nod, not a word coming out of your mouth as you find yourself entranced by his face. sunghoon has always been aphrodite’s son, as his admirers would call him, and now that you’re seeing him so closely, you’re realising he’s something much more beautiful.
it doesn’t slip your attention how his gaze settles on your lips for a quick second, your body tensing up at the sudden movement. your breath hitches as he leans closer, dipping his head down. your heart is racing while he feels like his heart has stopped— it’s timeless, as he finds himself just a few centimetres away from your lips, not wanting to stop even though he gives you a chance to pull back, whispering softly, “can i?”
you nod. and sunghoon doesn’t waste another second, capturing your lips with his.
it’s still at first, with your lips only pressed up together for a few seconds. it’s only a few seconds after he pulls back ever so slightly, and then tilts his head to the other side and goes in for another kiss, this time moving his lips slowly against yours. he feels you tense up for a brief while and then melting as you kiss him back, your fingers lacing around his tenderly. you flinch when it thunders again, breaking the kiss, but feeling shivers down your spine as you feel his breath on your lips.
he takes a few seconds, fingers ghosting up your hands to rest on your waist, tugging you closer as he brushes his lips against yours. “focus on my lips,”
and he kisses you again, this time a bit more firmly, albeit it’s slow and gentle at first, his lips moving against yours in a way that's both comforting and exciting. but as the moments pass, he presses in deeper, more insistently. he lets his body press more firmly against yours, his chest touching yours as his tongue gently teases at the seam of your lips. it was working, the way his lips move against yours, it calms your nerves from the thunder but lights them up again when he nibbles gently on your lower lip, his fingers digging into the skin of your waist as he continues to kiss you so fervently.
it takes a passing second for you to realise what you’re doing. it surprises you, however not enough to pull back, or maybe the way his tongue feels against yours stops you from doing so. you’d be lying if you say you hadn’t thought of kissing him before— as early as two days after moving in. and now that you’re actually kissing him, everything feels like a fever dream.
he tucks your chin up with his fingers, pulling you in closer to deepen the kiss. he is a good kisser, sunghoon uses that to boast about himself, he has always been good at this— kissing, bragging, making your knees weak, and all you could do was melt into him wet and sloppy kisses that he plants on your skin.
he dips his head down to your neck, pressing sloppy, open mouthed kisses down the column of your throat, pulling your blouse aside to get a better access to your collarbones and shoulders. it felt like his body has a mind of its own, and he’s only following right behind. when a soft gasp leaves your lips, he moves back to your lips again, wanting to swallow every little sound you make that makes his mind haywire.
your breaths are heavy, hands around his neck with fingers grazing the skin of his nape. a movement that makes him moan softly in the kiss as he presses you against the counter, holding you between his arms. his hand that's resting on your hip moves up, tracing the curve of your waist and then sliding under your shirt to rest on your bare skin, lips curling up in a subtle smirk as he hears you gasp yet again.
“sunghoon—” you pull back, getting a quick glance at his half-lidded eyes when the lightning from the thunderstorm fills the room. he can still feel your laboured breathing on his lips and it does nothing but pull him in even more. after all, sunghoon would be lying if he said he didn’t imagine doing this with you.
“we’ll stop,” he pecks your lips, then trailing his lips down your jawline and to your neck, leaving a trail of gentle kisses along your skin. “when the candle goes out,”
005. WHERE THE LINE FADES
when sunghoon wakes up the next morning, he’s met with cold empty sheets on the side and the memories from last night start flooding his mind. his heartbeat accelerates at the mere thought of you, especially how you were last night and every time his name fell off your lips in bliss and pleasure— he would’ve preferred waking up to you rather than emptiness.
he lays idly for a few minutes and stares at the ceiling, looking for where it all had started. was it the day you told him jay asked you out? maybe not, he doesn’t like to think of himself as a jealous person. it must’ve been when you asked for his opinion on your outfit, he tells himself, you looked too good to be true that day. a few seconds more and he sits up with a soft groan, seemingly unable to find answers to any of his questions.
the weather seems to have improved as he notices the cosy sunlight outside. he slips on this shirt before walking down to the shared bathroom, rubbing his eyes softly and brushing his fingers through his hair with a sigh. he puts his hand on the door knob and looking up in surprise when it opens on the other side.
“oh,” the slight hint of shyness on your face doesn’t escape his gaze, just like how enchanting you look this early in the morning with hair wet from the shower. you bite slightly on your lower lip before the awkwardness in the air is disturbed by your voice. “morning,”
actually, it must’ve all started the day you moved in.
“morning,” he replies back, rubbing his nape and looking away. the weight of questions lingering around makes it hard for him to look in your eyes. “would you like to have breakfast?”
you nod and follow him into the kitchen after making a short trip to your room.
you steal a few glances at him while eating your breakfast, feeling your palms sweat at the thought of bringing it up to him. you avoid it for a few minutes, tossing the question around in your head while trying to make small talks about the ketchup, as bad as it could get. it feels a bit suffocating until you finally decide to address the elephant in the room. “so about last night—”
“it was a mistake,” he cuts you off immediately, a heavy pause following shortly after. he looks up in your eyes for the first time since the morning. “let’s just forget it,”
and his words leave a bitter taste in your mouth. it could’ve been just another one night stand for you had it not been with sunghoon— your roommate, the person you see everyday, the person who managed to give you butterflies the day you moved in. your fingers tighten around the spoon and you consider arguing back for a moment before you push that idea further back in your head.
it could be just another thing added to the lists of things that have been buried, like the time you and sunghoon almost kissed in the elevator last year.
“right,” you nod quietly, convincing yourself that it’s not a big deal. that he’s just another guy in your life like jay. actually, you don’t feel like wanting to compare them anymore. you don’t know where the line marking the difference fades. “of course, yeah,”
you don’t even like the sound of that.
“yeah,”
you don’t wait another minute before leaving your unfinished breakfast on the table and going to your room. his eyes follow your movements, conscience nudging him to chase after you. he contemplates it for a while, and then you walk out with your bag. “i’ll see you after classes,”
and then sunghoon doesn’t see you for the rest of the morning.
or the day, in fact. usually, you two end up bumping into each other at least once, but sunghoon doesn’t see you around for the whole day. he skips spanish, deciding to go back to his apartment earlier than usual. he turns on the tv, deciding to watch a football watch with beer on the side while waiting for you. an hour passes, then another, and another.
there’s no sign of you.
it isn’t until he rings up a few of your friends that he hears that you’re staying over at giselle’s for the night. he wouldn’t blame you, couldn’t, not after everything that went down a night ago. you needed some space and so did he, but somewhere inside he wondered if he should’ve been honest with you when you brought up that topic during breakfast instead of saying the first thing that came to his mind and dismissing it.
but, he dismisses it again, letting you be on your own for as long as you need, knowing you’d come back soon.
which you do, the very next day, much to his surprise. he had expected you to avoid him for at least a week. he notices the way you look when you return early in the morning, tired and exhausted as if you hadn’t got a single ounce of sleep. there’s silence engulfing him but you walk to your room before he could even open his mouth to speak. and then you ignore him for the rest of the day.
he starts feeling annoyed at some point, trying to come up with a reason for your actions. he tries striking up conversations with you and you give short responses, or just nod. when you walk away without answering him when he asked about your day, sunghoon wanted to grab your wrist and pull you back for a second, but he dismisses that idea just as soon as it pops up in his head. he doesn’t even realise how quickly time passes in silence, not until he returns from heeseung’s apartment after spending two nights and one day with him and jake and checks his phone, realising it’s already close to being a week till you’re gone radio silent. he notices a few texts, mostly his study group that have been planning meet-ups to study, one that he rarely attends. his eyes especially squint in confusion at the texts from your mother, saying she had been trying to get in touch with you but getting no response.
he was on his way to his room when he heard the door unlock. a pause, the click of the doorknob strikes through the silence, followed by your footsteps. he takes a few seconds to sort out his thoughts before speaking. “your mom texted me since you weren’t picking up her phone,”
“my phone died,” you give a simple response, almost too quickly for his liking. he lets his eyes follow your movements as you take off your shoes and jacket, putting it on the couch.
it takes him back to the day you told him about jay asking you out.
it was exactly the same— you arrived late, your phone had died. he was asking the same questions, albeit laced with annoyance. today, it’s hesitation, maybe slight doubt. sunghoon can’t stop you from seeing jay, but the idea of you being with him bothers him more than expected. so, he follows up with yet another question.
“where have you been?” he asks, wanting to maintain a casual demeanour even though his heart is pounding in his chest just from being near you. he isn’t expecting any response, actually, however he’s met with surprise when you actually reply.
“with jay,” the words fall from your mouth as if you’re used to them, used to saying his name. there’s an awkward pause before you clarify. “we had dinner together. he wanted to apologise properly,”
“that’s— that’s great,” he manages to squeeze out, but sunghoon thinks jay could’ve left you alone instead of meeting you if he wanted to apologise so bad.
you definitely had feelings for jay, even though they didn’t go as deep for you to come home sobbing your eyes out the day you learnt the truth. to sunghoon, that is enough of a reason to hate him even more. just the mere thought of your heart sinking whenever you’d even think of jay made him fist his hands, nails almost digging in the palm of his hands.
sunghoon doesn’t have much experience with girls. in fact, none at all. flings are one thing, and girlfriends another. he has had both— none too serious. the first time someone asked him out was in highschool, although he’s surprised it didn’t happen much earlier. that time, just agreed to go out with her because his friends were in relationships too and he didn’t want to fall behind. it wasn’t soon before it turned into a competition after he got into university. not his best self, it isn’t something he’s proud of now that he thinks about it.
and sunghoon isn’t half better than jay in that aspect, although obviously not as bad as to bet on going on a date with another girl while he already has a girlfriend. however, if you had feelings for him— as he thinks while watching you walk to your room— he wouldn’t let a single tear fall from your lips.
“about that night,” he follows you into your room, practically hearing his heartbeat echo through his ears. he gulps nervously when he notices you looking at him with a sliver of hope in your eyes. “it wasn’t a mistake,”
“oh,” and you stop in your tracks, having no idea how to respond. an awkward pause follows as you bite your lower lip habitually before speaking, feigning a casual tone. “well, we can still put it behind—”
“i don’t want to,” he blurts out, cutting you off mid sentence. you notice how his voice is quiet as always, yet there’s panic and anxiousness behind those eyes. “i mean, i tried to, but it’s difficult. you’re always on my mind,”
there’s a silver of determination behind his voice. it’s surprising and equally anticipated. sometimes, he feels like he thinks of you every minute no matter what he’s doing. it was never this bad, these days even the regular banters between you two give him butterflies. and sunghoon understand that he might be far from your type in men. perhaps, you actually prefer someone like jay, who treat you to a fancy dinner to apologise, or maybe that guy from a few months ago who can’t remember the name of.
you and sunghoon can be polar opposites and he would still be standing here, fingers fidgeting nervously with the hem of his denim jacket, looking so uncharacteristically out of place. he would choose to have this talk again, as much as he hates confronting, because it never about who your type is and always about the fact that you’re sunghoon’s type— as he realises this when you tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, looking at him with lips pressed together. you look cute, more so when you’re awkward, and he can’t believe he’s coming to terms with this but god, he is falling for you.
he is falling hard, and falling deep. it’s nothing like him, you make him nervous, almost as if knocking him out of air whenever your eyes meet, and he would gladly suffocate to death. it was quiet with too many questions hanging above his head, and he noticed the way you fiddle with your fingers with the cutest expression known to mankind and sunghoon knew he was screwed.
“i’ve got it so bad for you, yn, really,” —he speaks as if he’s out of breath due to the nervousness— “really bad. i tried to keep you out of here,” he said, pointing at his chest, cheeks flushing red as the words fell off his lips. “but you won’t go, you just won’t.”
and sunghoon has never been so…out of place, for the lack of better words. it’s amusing, even to you, the way he is right now. the sunghoon from three weeks ago wouldn’t even care but he, now, is pouring out all of himself, as if stripping him naked of his emotions and letting him see what lies behind the suave smiles and prideful words. as if showing you how easily you have him going crazy, right out of his mind and how he can’t help but just stare blankly as his eyes travel down to your lips occasionally— as they do now— and it leaves you in a frenzy when you notice it.
“i can’t stop thinking about that night— not in a weird way, just…” and you’re just standing in front of him, trying not to laugh at his antics. he’s cute, a pause, what the fuck. and then you just go along with it, knowing there’s no point denying it anymore now that you two are having this conversation.
you notice his little mannerisms, like how he can’t look in your eyes for the life in him, how he keeps shifting his weight from one leg to the other. it’s adorable, especially the way he can have all the attention in the room with just his mere presence. that’s sunghoon for you, with a presence so heavy it’s loud even when he’s silent. it’s so loud you can practically hear his mind, of all the words you know he wants to say but can’t. there’s a hitch in his breath, his eyes meet yours for the first time in the past few minutes— i like you— they say, and the next thing sunghoon knows is that you’re kissing him.
“i like you too,” you whisper against his lips after pulling back, your lips brushing against his. sunghoon feels like every single nerve in his body has been sparked, giving him goosebumps when you slowly intertwine your fingers with his.
of course, you know how he feels even before he could say it out loud. maybe, he just made it obvious for you to guess, otherwise sunghoon likes to think of himself as someone who can hide his feelings well. he lets go of your hands as soon as he feels you lace your fingers with his and instead, cups your cheeks ever so tenderly and leans down to capture your lips with his, smiling in the kiss. “i love you,”
˃ᗜ˂ : if you made it till here, i'm sending each one of u kisses >< thank u for reading, i hope u liked it. ps i had to put my heart aside and write jay's name ... never again will i put my man thru this huhu TT he's too good to do these things
#—approved.#CANDLEIT : 성혼#enhypen#enhypen drabbles#enhypen x reader#enhypen fluff#enhypen imagines#enhypen oneshots#sunghoon oneshots#sunghoon x reader#sunghoon fluff#sunghoon imagines#sunghoon scenarios#sunghoon drabbles#sunghoon headcanons#enhypen scenarios#enhypen headcanons#enhypen soft hours#enhypen angst#sunghoon angst
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like in the movies. | scaramouche x gn!reader
old fashioned movies and cuddling. what could go wrong? …apparently his unfaltering need for your attention.
notes: fluff, needy scara!! (he wants ur attention), established relationship, modern au, non-sexual intimacy, idiots in love, short&sweet
masterlist
Now, Scaramouche wouldn’t say he is clingy. Despite his better judgment— Despite the way he desperately clings onto the belief that you were the touchy-feely one in the relationship, muttering along his grievances all while snuggling closer in your arms.
He was not clingy.
Tucked into your side, he peeks over your phone with a hardened glare. His eyes stumbling upon the small smile painted on your face. As if in a trance, your attention were laser focused on watching that damn show; one that he recalls mentioning to you in a passing moment, planning the day he’ll be able to watch it with you.
But now, it is hard to say he doesn’t regret it.
It was troubling how much he didn’t want to watch that stupid flim; the characters seemingly getting on his nerves, the plot beginning to feel slow and almost unnecessary, and the itch in his fingers getting a bit unbearable to ignore. And with his lips pulled taut into a thin line, he briefly tugs your sweater.
“Hey.” Look at me. He wants to say. “…This show is god awful.”
Something. Anything to agitate you, to reclaim your attention. But it was futile as the soundtrack blasted louder than his own voice. How laughable.
A second passes before the next scene comes on. And to his disappointment, you only tug him closer, content with simply staring at that worthless piece of metal, oblivious to his growing impatience. 
Yet with the way your arms wrap his waist, mindlessly padding your touch against his skin and squeezing it in reassurance, it is driving him mad with both annoyance and disbelief. If he was anymore weaker maybe he might just almost forgive you. Almost.
Which brings him to his last resort:
Without hesitation, Scaramouche gingerly sneaks his cold hands underneath your sweater, and with a snicker, he relishes as you jump at the touch.
“The hell-“ You quickly try to pull away from his abysmally chilled hands — only to fail once you catch the shit-eating grin that twitches on your boyfriend’s lips. “What was that for.”
Scaramouche only tucks himself deeper into your side, gently rubbing circles on your bare skin. “Ha..” He whispers. “..whatever do you mean?” He was being petty, of course. He thinks he certainly deserves it.
But it wasn’t long before he hears a quick ‘oh’ and the sound of a phone plopped right next to him. “I see what this is about.”
Now he has you wrapped around his finger, right where he wants you to be.
Instead, he feels your hand slowly creeping up against his waist, suddenly flipping over both of your bodies, until your face meets directly with his — effectively trapping him within your arms, and at your teasing mercy.
This is embarrassing, you are embarrassing. and yet…
“If you wanted my attention just tell me, yeah?”
“I did.” He scoffs at the knowing glint in your eyes but his composure melts as soon you place a quick peck on his forehead. Scaramouche picks up on the apologetic glance.
Flexing his fingers, his cheeks burning hot, Scaramouche mutters a low insult as you relax beside him, the irritating grin still lingering on your face.
How incredulous.
It wasn’t long before he shifts closer, tightening his hold on your back and burying his face back into your neck. He hears you chuckle, knowing you can feel the smile on his lips. Don’t say sorry idiot, I just missed you.
You both don’t say anything for a while, but with your hands threading through his hair, he finds himself finally relaxing under your hold.
You contently sigh. I missed you too.
It no longer mattered whether or not you would finish the show. That wasn’t why he wanted to watch it in the first place. He wanted you, and that was more than enough.
So maybe if you asked nicely, he would admit: he is a bit clingy. And only for you.
#scaramouche x reader#scaramouche x you#scaramouche x reader fluff#scaramouche fluff#genshin fluff#genshin x reader fluff#genshin x reader#genshin x you#scaramouche#this was in my drafts for a while#these idiots to lovers combo
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40 DAYS AND 40 NIGHTS CHAPTER SIX
thought i’d be lying if i said ‘i didn’t want you to myself.’ when you look me in my eyes and, tell me that it’s mine, i…
pairing wnba!paige bueckers x singer!oc
taglist @thaatdigitaldiary @ohbueckers @xxloveralways14 @patscorner @wbbgetsmewetter @rosemariiaa @tndaqlifwy @makethemhoesmad @authentic-girl03
warnings infidelity, some sexual content
kalena speakss 🪽! this is easily my favorite chapter so far (for reasons that will become obvious towards the end) don’t expect another back to back update bc it’s not happening 😭 maybe thursday or friday at the earliest, i still have priorities!
June 2025 — Crypto.com Arena, Los Angeles, California
“Paige, your shot wasn’t falling tonight like we are used to seeing from you. What was different tonight for you than either nights?”
It’s this that I’m not quite yet used to. The post lost pressers. It was different in college, where the team had way more wins for every one loss, but right now we’re at .500 and each time a loss follows a win and they ask me the same variation of the same question I get irritated.
But I’m media trained, which means I just answer the question no matter how dumb I feel it is. The real answer is that I played like shit tonight, forcing shots and getting into my head. Instead, I’m forced to say:
“We’re playing a team that has the reigning defensive player of the year and was just in the finals. It was gonna be a dog fight, for us to get settled against a defense like that, and they simply out performed us.” I look down at the stat sheet in front of me, I had 5 turnovers to my 4 assists, and I fucking hate turning the ball over.
“Kayla McBride is a dog, she guarded me well tonight, forced me into some bad shots and got a few turnovers from me. But I gotta take all that and learn from it, it’s still too early in the season to stress out over things that are fixable.”
I'm the only one sitting at the podium tonight, Rickea and Dearica doing theirs together and Zia who had just gone before me. I knew what the gist of the questions would be, turnovers, defense, and the most gruesome: injuries.
“We saw you roll your ankle pretty bad tonight. Even though you finished the game, can you tell us a bit about the seriousness of it?” It’s a different reporter now, one that I recognize from our win the other night.
I shake my head. My ankle was fine up until he just mentioned it. Now, it stung bad. I had some extra tape around it, it was only sore, while I was sitting but walking and running full speed on the court made that shit hurt like no other.
“It’s not serious.” I reply honestly. “We got two days off before the next game at home so I’m not worried. I’m gonna treat it like any other tweak and just follow what the trainers got for me, and hopefully we have a better night against Minnesota on Friday.”
It seems like that is a sufficient answer for the rest of the reporters in the room when I hear that wonderful “no more questions.” I stand up gingerly from my seat. They don’t miss my slight limp, but after a few steps the pain shakes off and it just feels uncomfortable.
When I get back to the locker room it’s damn near empty except for Cameron and Rae. I give them both curt nods before heading over to my locker.
They don’t speak to me, which I’m silently grateful for because I might snap at them unintentionally. Losing is one thing, playing like dog shit is another, but my ankle really put the nail in the coffin.
I attempt to clean up my locker a bit, making life a little bit easier for the ladies who’re gonna come in and clean up when we leave. I throw my jersey and shorts in the growing pile of towels and warm ups and all other gear before reaching for my phone in the bag.
just saw the injury on tv, pray it’s not too bad ❤️🩹
That’s the second most recent text in my phone, from about an hour ago from Maraye. It just briefly brings a smile to my face that I can’t even fight. It’s crazy to me that even when I’m at my grumpiest she finds a way to make me forget about it all.
I scroll through the rest of my notifications before tapping on her contact. I see that she texted me multiple times tonight throughout different parts of the game.
don’t fuck up my parlay tonight. jk good luck fav! 7:09pm
OKAY BLOCKKK GET UP THEN 7:20pm
omg the cross over??? don’t do her like that p 😮💨 8:03pm
I laugh fights through my lips, she told me in Atlanta she would start live texting me during games, I didn’t think she was serious. Nevertheless, I find it adorable. Maraye, throughout the busyness that is her schedule, turned on my game and watched the whole thing, keeping me posted on all her thoughts throughout the night.
I’m so beyond saving.
My thumb scrolls back down to the bottom of the thread. I can’t deny the way my heartbeat quickens in my chest at the choice of heart emoji. It’s not quite a red heart, but it’s enough to let me know she cares. I can’t believe that I’m sitting here like I’m in high school again, psycho analyzing her texts and gushing over them until my face is red.
“You headin’ out?” I look up and Cam is getting ready to leave. She’s going to be fully cleared to play this week, probably not playing with us until right before All-star. I’m excited for her, and I can tell that she is too because it’s practically beaming off of her.
I nod. “Yeah, inna minute. I’ll catch you in the morning.” Cameron takes that answer and walks out alongside Rae. I grab my back shortly after them, getting up and leaving the locker room. The arena is quiet, so is the parking garage as I make my way out there. The chirp of my car alerts me to it. I drop my bag in the trunk before sitting down in my seat.
The cushion practically eats me alive, I haven’t been this physically exhausted in months.
Then I’m reminded that Maraye and I’d thread is still open on my phone. When I glance at the time I realize it’s not that late, I know that if I go home, I’ll just fall into the rabbit hole of watching film all night.
Instead I reach for the phone heavy in my sweatpants pocket. My thumbs begin typing away before sending Maraye a text back.
Nah it’s not all that bad
You busy? Or can I slide?
I make sure my phone is connected to the speakers. When He’s Not There by Kehlani plays through the car while I get settled. Following that, I place my phone on its spot on the center console. It isn’t until Maraye’s name flashes on my carplay screen that I finally pull out of the parking garage.
yes please, come see meee
—
Paige sits comfortably to my left on my couch. Her leg propped on my coffee table with a bag of ice resting on her swollen ankle.
It’s her first time at my apartment, but even then she navigates the place like she’s been here countless of times. It feels so similar to our friendship, just comfortable.
Her arm is draped over my shoulder as I nestle into her side. When she first came over, I sat on the other side of the couch, so far away from her you would think we were fighting. And then she started talking, pulling me closer with her words until I sat right next to her. My body is leaning into her warmth.
An NBA finals game plays on the TV. Knicks versus the Thunder, it’s in the last few minutes of overtime, a high intensity game that Paige swore she couldn’t miss a second of.
“He’s so fine.” I chirp jokingly, Shai Gilgeous Alexander is on the screen, about to shoot game tying free throws.
Paige pulls her arm off of me, looking down at me incredulously before reaching for my remote. She lowers the volume on the TV, reducing Mike Breen’s commentating to a whisper.
“Who, Shai?”
“Yeah. You don’t think so?” I ask, looking up at her with a grin.
“I’m like a raging homosexual, but if you like it I love it?”
I laugh at that, pushing her hair away from my view. It cascades down her shoulders in soft bright strands that tickle my face.
“You can never just laugh at my jokes.”
“Your jokes aren’t funny.” Paige says. The face she makes reacts to her own statement like it’s obvious, when we both know I could make her laugh until she cried if I wanted to. “And Shai isn’t your type.”
I move from my spot next to her, jumping up and turning my attention to her face, while hers are stuck to the game. The way she is seated briefly makes me forget my train of thought. Her legs are spread comfortably and she leans back on the couch with her arms against the back of the couch. She looks like a fuckboy, and in any other scenario I would make fun of her for it, but the TV glow shines on her face just right and her cologne in my nose nearly makes me go blind.
I cross my arms over my chest. “What’s my type then, Paige?”
A commercial cuts on and Paige finally draws her eyes away from the screen. “What, Julian’s lightskin ass wasn’t the giveaway?” She laughs at her own joke, it’s stupid, but I love that laugh. So uniquely her. “Or y’want me to say you like six foot blonde girls.”
I roll my eyes, and when my vision clears up again, Paige is grinning at me.
“C’mon it was funny!”
“I don’t like women, idiot.”
“You like me.”
“I do not. I don’t even know why I let you hang out around me.” My body turns and my back hits the couch with a soft thud. Just to annoy her I sit further away from her body.
“Yeah okay, ma. You keep tellin’ yourself that.” Paige’s voice is low, a deep and raspy tone that I have never heard from her before. With Julian that had always been a given— he’s a man with a deep voice, that’s obvious. But when I hear it from Paige, I don’t know. It’s different.
My body just barely reacts to the pet name, but it’s there. The glob of saliva that pushes down my dry throat. And my legs just slightly press together. Paige reaches for the pocket of my striped shorts, tugging me back to my original spot in the curve of her body.
“You’ve really never done anything with a girl before?”
“Paige—”
“No, not to be annoying. I’m just wondering.” She shrugs. Her hand reaches over to flick the bag of ice off her ankle and brings her leg down to my carpet. She looks down at me slowly, a lick of her lips and scan of my face lets me know she’s listening, waiting for my response.
I return her gaze. “Yes, I’ve really never done anything with a girl before.”
“Why? We’re much better. Better than whatever Julian is doing for you, I can tell you that much.” Paige’s voice is smug, teasing almost. I don’t know if she’s trying to rile me up between my legs or in my heart so I defend Julian. Either way it’s working, my heartbeat quickening in my chest.
“You seem sure about that.”
She nods. “I am. I think you forget how often you complain to me about that guy.” She says with a laugh.
The game in front of us is dying down, a three point lead for the Knicks with 40 seconds left in overtime, Oklahoma just now calling a timeout. I know she’s into the game, way more than me, but still she looks at me with an intensity that makes it feel like we’re the only two things in the world.
“Doesn’t mean a girl could do it better.”
Her eyes darted from my eyes to my lips, I’m expecting them to move. To look back at my eyes or even at the TV but she doesn’t. Just me.
“Y’believe that?” Paige asks me.
“Uh huh.”
I’m going to lose. Whatever is going on with Paige and I, what has been going on for the last few weeks. The banter, the tension, the constant touching, it’s all a fight. Her and I are going back and forth like a fucking tennis match and she’s about to win. She’s about to make me lose whatever is left of my composure and grab the collar of her Hopkins High School t-shirt and kiss her until there’s no more breath in my lungs.
“Yeah? Ion know, can’t knock it till you try it.” She says, leaning into me for all of 5 milliseconds before sitting back in her seat and looking at the screen. The volume raises on my TV the cheers and commentary bouncing off the walls of my home.
Paige has left me frozen. Stuck there, in the exact position that she left me in. My eyes staring into the side of her perfect skin, burning holes there if I had the capability. I need her. My thighs are damn near glued together to keep me from dripping down my couch.
I adjust my position some, sitting uncomfortably on my heels but with the way Paige is manspreading, it gives me just enough to be an inch taller than her. She looks at me, eyes trailing from my thighs past my covered stomach and chest, suddenly I’m hyper aware of how close my tits are from falling out of my Skims top.
“There some’ you wanna tell me, angel?” She asks. I hate the way that nickname makes me feel. She’s the only one that calls me that, the only one who makes me feel so small with just a single word. “Or you jus’ gonna keep lookin’ at me?”
The words just barely die in the air before I’m leaning into her, pressing my lips to hers.
It starts off soft, so soft. Her body hesitates, like she knows better than to kiss me back but she does so anyway, tilting her head further and deepening the kiss. Paige hums against me, her arms still pressed against the back of the couch as if she has to avoid touching me. As if the second her hands touch my body then it’s game over.
She bites my bottom lip, making me moan against her. I further into the kiss, cupping her cheek and then it really is game over. Paige reaches for my hips, lifting my body onto her lap and settling my thighs on the outside of hers.
Her tongue is entering my mouth, warm and tasting like candy. They’re clashing, messy and sticky and so damn hot. Now that I’ve gotten a taste of her I’m not sure I want to give it up.
Paige roams my body with fervor. Trailing just a bit further to grab at my ass, kneading it in her large and veiny hands. I pull back from her breathlessly. Her hair is messy, lips so swollen and pink. It leaves me soaked as a response.
“This is doin’ so much damage. Y’know that?” She asks. Her hand travel back up my body to the back of my neck. I know it’s wrong, but still I let her pull me back into her.
“Mmm, Ion wanna— stop.” I speak against her lips, letting her kiss me as she pleases. Grope me as she pleases. Talk to me as nasty as she wants to. I miss it, the feeling of being so vulgar with another person. Paige is on a different level and I want so much more. More of her, more than anyone has ever given me but for whatever reason I know that she can.
My phone starts ringing. I try to pull back to answer it but she pulls me right back, navigating my mouth with her tongue.
“Don’t.” She mumbles.
“I gotta.” I tell her pulling back with such force that I’m almost falling off the couch. I need to. Because if I don’t stop, I’m gonna let her see me in my most vulnerable state and even I know how wrong that would be.
I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand, swiping to answer the call before I can even see who it is.
“Hello?” My voice is wheezy, and I’m huffing and puffing into the speaker.
“Hey, baby. You home?”
It’s Julian. Of course it is. Of course God would let this man call me in the middle of making out with Paige just to make me feel guilty. Like the asshole I so obviously am right now.
“N— yeah. Yeah, but I’m busy. Sorry.” I stutter. “Paige is over right now.” I tell him honestly. But still, my breath hitches at my mention of her name. She rubs my thighs while I speak, looking at me like I’m a piece of meat.
Her hand travels to her mouth, holding up one finger to her lips with a snide glare. I reach to slap her hand away, barely listening to what Julian says to me on the other line.
Blah blah blah I miss you blah blah blah needa start hanging out with me blah blah less Paige. It’s gibberish. And I don't care.
“Yeah, okay. Goodnight Ju.” I tell him, bothered by his continued talking and wanting to occupy myself with something else. Namely, the pink lips in front of me that look so fucking pretty and the gorgeous face just inches away from mine.
I toss my phone on the couch after Julian responds and hangs up.
“You fuckin’ like me.”
“And don’t.” Just when I’m about to hop off of her lap, the TV blares loudly.
“Bang! Bang! Shai Gilgeous-Alexander takes us into double overtime!” Mike Breen’s cheers echo into my ears. Paige looks past me, obviously upset that she missed the shot.
“Damn. He’s good and fine?”
“Dont get fucked up, Raye.”
#sierrale8ne#kalena’s works ୧ ‧₊˚ 🍵 ⋅#paige bueckers#paige bueckers smut#paige bueckers x oc#uconn wbb#la sparks#lesbian#my fic#40 days and 40 nights
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okay random thought, but ik you mentioned that kitty’s older sister briefly dated barry. so kitty and rafe probably met through barry im assuming? like one day kitty’s and her sister are over at barry’s and rafe walks in and kitty’s probably tryna convince herself he’s just a smug asshole 😒💔
🎀≽^• ⩊ •^≼୧ ‧₊˚
you’d only tagged along to get out the house for a little while, too cooped up — and there’s only so many tarot readings a girl can give herself before she gets bored. the lovers, four of wands — you’re going to meet someone soon! whatever.
your sister is smoking with barry out on the porch and you’re exiting your sisters boyfriends bathroom when you hear a semi-familiar voice. you try and be sneaky about it, something you can usually get away with — notorious for creeping up on people and slinking about undetected, and yet as you casually stroll the kitchen, peering out the patio doors you lock eyes with rafe cameron, stuffing his hands into his pockets. his eyes jump all across you as he attempts to identify you.
barry is rattling off about something to him, complaining about rafe overcharging unnecessarily and shooing off customers when the kook interrupts him, waving a hand as his eyes follow your form through the house, seeing you in that black mini skirt reaching up to get a glass from the cabinet. “yeah, yeah-yeah look shut up a sec. who’s that in the kitchen?” he drawls, and if your sister wasn’t so high she’d have been quicker to snap at him.
“nah, nah you’re not gonna go botherin’ that lil ass girl rafe. you’ here on business, act like it.” barry dismisses, putting his joint out in a half empty beer can and listening to it sizzle. your older sister lifts her head from the couch, frowning in disorientation at the sandy blonde.
“i didn’t say shit, okay — i just wanted to know who she is.” rafe defends irritably, ripping his eyes off you to blink at barry, wiping clammy hands down his shorts. not even a second passes before he asks another question. “how uh— how old is she anyway?”
“old enough for a real man, aka — not you.” your sister pushes her hands into the worn down patio seat and forces herself to her feet. “on that note we’re getting out of here. gonna get food.” she has the decency to alert barry of her plans for once, turning her head to watch you enter the patio with a nearly empty glass in your hand, looking a little wide eyed and curious as you swallow down your drink. you set it on the table, furrowing your eyebrows at barry.
people always thought you were fiesty, but compared to your sister you always seemed pretty meek and inoffensive.
“you finished the joint already?” you huff in a whiny tone, directed mostly towards your sisters boyfriend who lazily shrugs and gestures at your sister — pinning the blame. rafe huffs out an awkward chuckle, making his presence known and holding a hand out to you to shake.
“hey uh, i don’t think we’ve met — rafe cameron.” he introduces in that rich boy drawl. curiosity gets the better of you, and you slowly reach out to shake his hand only for your sister to smack your wrist away from his.
“c’mon. i’m hungry. don’t waste your time on him.” she rolls her red eyes, swaying her hips as she sashays off the patio somewhat elegantly for someone wearing chunky stompers.
you grab his hand before he can pull it away, muttering something along the lines of “i can shake his hand if i want to.” before rushing off to follow her without a glance behind you. rafe doesn’t miss certain things about you; the way your skirt has ridden up your ass cheeks a little as you bounce away, the slight brattiness in your tone that he couldn’t help but wanna correct, and the way his smirk lingered, only to warrant a long stare from barry.
“whatever you thinkin’ bro i suggest you don’t.”
“shit, i can’t just look at her? m’not doing anything.” rafe smiles simply, going to sit down opposite his friend on the patio seats. something about his tone made barry believe the opposite.
🎀≽^• ⩊ •^≼୧ ‧₊˚
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