#i stopped including wc anyway

[heart2beom]

not putting the wc when i post open the door part 2 T_T

[kamitv]

could you write about who you think are the most touch/affection-starved of the jjk boys? the thought of them crumbling at the slightest touch and savoring every second with us makes me 🥴🥴🥴

▷ Delicate

Sypnosis . Men who fold under your touch. / Pairings . (Separate) Nanami x f!reader, Choso x f!reader, Ino x f!reader / Content . afab!reader, established relationships, fluff, begging men, sensitive men, soft sex, filth, dirty talk, etc. / wc . 4.8k

A/N: Grieving over the loss of my man right now-- Gege I hate you and the air that you breathe. This was going to include more men but due to the loss of my lover, my mood was ruined and I couldn’t finish what I had for the others… Anyway, not proof-read, hope you enjoy! ^.^ [MDNI]

★ Nanami Kento

While it may be a bit... unexpected, yes, Nanami is sensitive to your touch. Each one lingers on his skin, seeps through his clothing, and tattoos itself onto him.

He's a very stoic and, usually, stern man but when it comes to you, he's almost like putty under your touch. It's intoxicating really, the way you're always caressing his arms, grabbing his hand to hold when the two of you walk or even during sex.

You're quite the touchy woman and Nanami can't say he doesn't love that about you.

When he comes home after a long day of work, you'd rush to the door to greet him, dressed in your comfort clothes from head to toe with that bright smile of yours latched to your face. Your hands are on him instantly, helping him rid himself of his coat, his tie, hell, even his shoes sometimes if you're feeling enthusiastic enough.

It's cute really. The way you help him undress as soon as he steps into the house, asking him how his day was and reciprocating with a not-so-eventful tale of your day. He's listening to your every word though, hanging off every syllable even, but you don't notice it.

Even as you guide him toward the kitchen to show him a surprise dinner you'd whipped up, you're rambling about something concerning your cooking process and he's hearing every word but, the way your fingers slip down his arms, curl around his wrist to pull him along, release him and then press into his chest to stop him from walking-- it was truly alluring.

Nanami swears he wasn't always this sensitive to touch. He doesn't know why exactly his heart swells in while you keep your hand flat on his chest, your attention on some nearby pot as you continue to talk.

You were explaining something but he'd stopped listening, his eyes all over the side of your face and soon trailing to your arm, and then to the hand you've got on him.

Nanami's hand would be moving before he even realizes, slipping so gracefully to your wrist and moving your hand off of him just to lean down a bit and plant a loving kiss across your knuckles.

"And then I almost-," His sudden kiss would make your brain freeze, head whirling in his direction to see your husband planting peck after peck before he shifts your hand to cup the side of his face and then meets your gaze.

Those gentle brown eyes of his would be so sappy and soft with you, filled with a love you can hardly comprehend as he rests his head against your palm, grinning at you. What a handsome man you've married.

You couldn't be happier as you look at him, even with the sigh that leaves you, "Kento..."

His brows would raise ever so slightly, "Hm?"

"Did you hear anything I just said?" You'd huff out. And there's this slight frustration in your voice but he loves it anyway, completely and utterly smitten for you no matter the situation.

Nanami nods, just barely, before turning his head and kissing the inside of your palm, "Mhm," He hums casually, "You were telling me how you almost burned our kitchen down."

"Yes, and..." Your eyes narrow at the man, watching how he just kisses and kisses your palm, almost as though he couldn't pull himself away, "Ken..." Your hand slips a bit and you caress his face, "Are you okay?"

His hand, much veinier and larger than yours, would come up and cup yours over his face, "Yes, yes, I'm fine. Your touch is just so... soft."

That earns a smile from you, "Is it?" You'd giggle amid your question, eyes lowering at the man before you.

"Yes, it is," Nanami responds simply. Then he begins moving your hand to the side of his neck and his head tilts as he looks at you, stepping closer and closing the slight space between you and him, "I love how gentle it is, how loving, how caring."

"Oh?" Your smile widens and you move your other hand away from the, now forgotten, pot and it goes toward the buttons of his shirt, "Should I start touching you more then?"

"I implore you to, yes," Nanami huffs out, his body leaning toward yours.

You bring your lower lip into your mouth and tip your head a bit, one hand toying with the buttons of his shirt and the other caressing the side of his neck, "Since when has my touch had you this... pleading," You question, words coming out slow as his eyes drop to your lips.

Your husband takes his other hand and grabs a careful hold onto your wrist, dragging your hand further down his body and making you feel against his abs through his clothing as he leans closer to you. His free hand then moves to your waist and he tugs you to him, closing any and all space left.

"Always," Nanami confesses to you, "Your touch makes me weak, sweetheart." He explains with that gentle yet deep voice of his, always so soft when speaking to you.

You smile, "Weak?"

"Yes, weak," Nanami whispers in agreement with a steady nod of his head, eyes doting on every aspect of your facial expression.

The man was so in love and his poured out of his every gaze, brown eyes lingering on your lips long enough to silently tell you what he wanted. So, your hand steadily undoes the first button on his shirt, moving your other hand from his neck to assist yourself.

Your eyes on his the entire time, you unbutton at least four buttons before taking a finger and grazing his bare chest, watching how his breathing stutters from something so light.

Smiling, "This, Kento..." Your voice is small in a sultry whisper as you drag your finger down and down until you pass his torso and reach the hem of his pants, "This makes you, weak?" You as tauntingly just before you begin unbuckling his belt.

His heart rate quickens and he swallows loud enough for you to hear, sighing as his head weighs to the side a little, "Hahh, yes, my love," Nanami tells you, face inclining down to your own.

Your gaze and his meet and the eye contact is heavy with tension, your fingers working his belt loose before you're teasing him by just barely unbuttoning his pants and making sure your fingers caress the area below his abdomen.

Nanami's lips twitch and so badly does he want to kiss you but he's too busy hanging off the slow words leaving your lips.

"Who would've thought?" You utter, smiling at your husband, "A serious man like you crumbling to your wife's small touches."

He tilts his head further and his lips are practically on yours as he speaks, "Small or not... they're touches from my wife." He emphasises just before giving you but a small peck on the lips.

You hum, "I suppose."

And then you're finally kissing him, lips molding into one another and his body melting to the feel of you. Oh how Nanami loves the way your lips part for his tongue to push through, the way you kiss him back with just as much passion as he approaches you with, and how warm and savory the inside of your mouth is.

Soft smacks emit from the two of your lips sliding over one another, your husband nipping at your lower lip and quick to kiss you like it's the last thing he'll ever do. Then his hands are grabbing a firm hold of your waist, silently telling you that you're his to hold and touch however he feels.

His fingers, large, veiny, and thick, feel you through the fabric of your top, unable to pry off of you once he's got you in his grasp.

Then, into your mouth so very lowly, h's grunting, "Undress me," Nanami orders as he slightly steps forward with you.

You step back accordingly and your hands are flying back up, unbuttoning the rest of his shirt and feeling him up afterward as you start slipping the item off of his body.

"Like this? Hm?" You whisper back to him as his shirt hangs off of him, his hands gripping onto you tighter and tighter whilst he walks you backward and out of the kitchen.

His voice makes your knees weak as his mouth detaches from yours and drops to your neck while you move to finally get his slacks off, "Yes, like that. Good girl," Nanami praises against your neck, soft but hot kisses making you gasp.

With your voice all breathy and your feet and hands stumbling with the large eager man before you, "C'mon Ken, at least make it to the bedroom," You murmur, his pants loose on his hips as he bulge brushes against your front.

"I'm trying." He groans, breath simmering into the crook of your neck before his tongue is felt against you.

You can't help but giggle, "You're trying?"

"Yes," He huffs out, voice hinted with this tune you rarely hear from him too often.

You're walking back and back until you bump into a wall for a second, your bedroom door now to your right as Nanami marks up your neck messily. Then you snicker, "Mmmh, I like you like this, Kento," You comment, to which he sighs.

Then he's off your neck and moving you to walk backward into your bedroom, clearly no longer patient.

Cocking his head to the side, "Like what?" Nanami asks curiously.

You shrug and the back of your legs hit the front of your bed, "Desperate, almost," You hum, brows furrowing a bit.

Nanami helps you settle yourself onto the mattress completely before he's crawling on top of you, shrugging his shirt completely off of his body and revealing his full chiseled physique to you.

"Starved?" He asks, trying to find the word you were looking for.

You shake your head and then it comes to you, your arms wrapping around his neck and tugging him down to you before you whisper, "Craving."

Nanami gazes at you for a long moment, simply taking you in before nodding his head slowly, "Craving, yes." He agrees.

Then, another long press of his lips to yours is made and your legs are adjusted to wrap around his waist, Nanami wanting any and all parts of you on him now.

His lips shift to the left a little and he kisses the side of your mouth, then your cheek, and then he drops to your neck again, making you do nothing more than smile as his hands work to get your clothes off of you.

Your top is soon removed, bottoms followed soon after, all of which is discarded to the floor somewhere before Nanami's kissing you again and forcing your hands to be on him.

"Run your fingers through my hair," He murmurs, directing one of your hands to his blonde locks of hair. Then, he takes the other hand and moves it to wrap around his neck, "Scratch my back while I fuck you," Nanami whispers, works making your breathing unsteady while he suddenly grinds his hard cock down into you, "Try pushing me away when it becomes too much, I don't care, just want your hands on me, okay?"

His directions had you hot all over, pupils dilated already, breathing heavy from his constant kisses, and your hands quick to run along his tensed skin before you nod with an obedient, "Yes sir." Leaving you.

Nanami just barely smiles and you feel his heavy cock twitch against you, "What'd I tell you about that?"

"I don't remember," You whipser, your fingers slipping down from his hair to caress his jawline and then pulling his face closer to your own, "Remind me, sir."

There's a smile on his face as his lips finally near your own again, "You'll be the death of me one day." Nanami utters to you lovingly.

And maybe one day you will.

But tonight?

Tonight you are nothing more than a hole for him to fill as he soon grunts into your ear telling you how good your cunt feels around him, telling you how pretty you look taking his cock, and moaning out how much he loves the way you touch him.

★ Choso Kamo

You always knew he was sensitive to your touch. Look at him. No, literally, look at the man. He's not sensitive to everything but your touch is most definitely his weakness.

You once gave the man nothing more than a handjob and he was cumming all over the damn place. You're not sure if you've ever seen your boyfriend so... whiney.

Choso had his legs spread like a slut for you as you sat oh so prettily beside him, fingers wrapped around his cock and stroking him torturously slow. Your thumb would caress his bulging veins, fingers would twirl around his fat tip, tap and slip in between the slit of his cock, teasing him.

And since you were sitting beside him, your breasts would graze the side of his arm, making him flinch over and over. You had him so tense, so sweaty, so loud.

Choso didn't even know he could moan this much just from someone's hand. He's jerked himself off plenty of times but when you do it, it's like blood rushes to both his head and his cock, his vision would blur, and his breathing would grow unsteady.

Maybe it's because of how you had teased him beforehand, running your manicured nails along his inner thigh as the two of you tried to watch a movie together. Only for your hand to accidentally graze his dick, somehow groping him through his clothing and then turning to look at him.

That was when he began to sweat buckets, cock springing up under your palm at one measly little touch and his breath hitching.

Then he was whispering a gruff little, "Baby," Making you smile as you did nothing but innocently bat your lashes at him. To which he'd tip his head back against the couch and swallow, "Stop teasin'..."

You then scooted closer to him, your thigh touching his as your voice neared his ear, "I barely even touched you, Cho," You had whispered, watching how even in the dim lighting, his face grew red and he struggled to keep his composure.

Turning his head to you, Choso was quick to meet your eyes with a low and desperate gaze, lids dimming, brows tensing, and breathing heavy. "Then touch me more, please." He requested quietly, deep voice making your cunt jump with excitement.

You quickly switched hands so that you could turn your torso to him, which was when your breast pressed into his arm and your hand then moved to work his cock out.

And yes, in minutes he was cumming in your hand, making such an embarrassing mess of your fingers. Your hand was so soft, jerking his twitching cock off so perfectly.

Choso was groaning into the air like he couldn't control it, "H-Hahh, aagh, baby-, baby fuck, y-your ha-hahh, hand-," His voice... squeaks? as he says that last word, pitching so deliciously that you have to squeeze your thighs together as you watch him tense up yet again, "S-Shit, m'gonna cum again," Choso breathed out through gritted teeth.

He was so sexy all sensitive and tense for you, making you smile as you watched his face twist up and his eyes flicker every time you focused your palm on his tip.

"Again, Cho? You're makin' such a mess, baby," You coo softly, breath just barely hitting his ear and adding on to the numerous things he was feeling.

His head was spinning at this point and he couldn't stop himself from watching your, much smaller, hand jerk him off, from quick pulls and tugs to slow drags and caresses, to twisting and rolling-- Choso was both in a daze and high off of watching you stroke his aching cock.

God damn you knew how to use your hand. You knew where he was sensitive, knew what to do and how to do it.

His cock was wet with cum and your hand just slide up and down and up and down, the sloppy sound filling the entire space and adding onto his arousal. Cum was slipping in between your fingers, all down to his balls-- shit, he really did make a mess.

It was nasty but... he liked it that way.

"P-Princess, fuuck, please," His voice was cracking, breaking because of you, eyes tearing up as your hand only got faster and faster, "Fuck fuck, please d-don't stop." He pants out, head flying back against the couch as his thighs closed and opened, almost like he wanted it all to end and yet continue at the same time.

Watching him had your body hot, there was a pulse coming from in between your legs and you had half the urge to get down on your knees and just suck him off since he was being so damn whiney.

But at the same time, you couldn't stop your hand. Not when he was about to cum again, not when you were about to drag the sound you were looking for out of him.

"Y'like that, Cho?" Such a simple question you murmured to him and yet it broke him.

Nodding all needily and fucked out, "Yes baby, yesyesyes," He gasps, abs tensing as your hand just would stop. You wouldn't let up on him for even a second and it was killing him, "F-Fuck I like it s'much-, I like you- love you," He corrects, struggling and stumbling over all his words, "Love your fuckin' hand-"

His jaw drops and the groan that leaves him comes from deep within his throat, "Ohmygoddd, fuck," Oh he was babbling for you, thoughts whirling, voice cracking and high pitched with you.

Then his lips quivered and that's when that noice came out. Such a cute, whiney, and filthily obscene whimper slipped out of his mouth, eyes at the back of his damn skull as he came all over your hand again.

And you had the nerve to talk him through it, whispering sweet, "That's it baby," To him and making him pant and his breathing stutter, your hand still going.

Choso couldn't formulate proper sentences with you anymore, barely chanting an almost silent I love you over and over until your hand stopped and his dick finally calmed down.

★ Ino Takuma

Is this even surprising?

Of course your cute boyfriend Ino is sensitive and affectionate starved. Sometimes he tries to act like your touch doesn't faze him but the very second it leaves him, he's giving you these doe-eyes and moving to put your hand back on him.

And it's just perfect for him that you enjoy touching him a lot. You're almost always hugging him or grabbing his face to pull him in for a kiss and he loves it.

So whenever you're away for a few hours, his body aches for you. You'd have your nails done too so that was something he enjoyed feeling more than ever, loving how your fingernails would run through his hair as he laid on your thighs or even in between them, face stuffed into your cunt.

Either way, Ino loved your touches and yes he craves it when you're not around.

So whenever the two of you do meet up, you're always running up to him, throwing your arms up and around his neck, laughing and smiling about how much you missed him.

Then you'd always tug that beanie off of his head, telling him how much you enjoy it when his hair is out and teasing him about looking silly with the accessory on.

He'd shrug off your comment and then as soon as you turn away from him, his arms are draping around your waist, chin resting on your shoulder and crotch pressing into your ass.

Your body would freeze in place as you feel something familiarly hard poking at your ass, turning your head to your boyfriend who you've barely even touched so far and raising a brow at him, "Takuma..." You'd utter softly, earning a grin from him.

"Hm? Somethin' wrong?" He'd ask casually, as if there's not a painful boner in his pants all because you'd hugged him.

"You tell me," You tease, moving out of his hold and turning your body around to face your boyfriend as you cross your arms.

He quickly raises a hand to the back of his neck to scratch, chuckling nervously, "I'm not sure what y'want me to say?" He hums plauyfully.

You tilt your head and him and sigh before moving to point at his crotch, "How about you start with explaining that."

Ino's head drops to look at where you're pointing to, laughing as soon as he sees himself, "Oh, that. Yeah, no, that's uh, that's nothing, really-," His head lifts and you've gotten all close to him again, head angled upward slightly to meet his gaze and your stare making him swallow all his words down with a loud gulp.

Your hand then moves in almost slow motion and you place but a single finger to his chin, tipping his face down some more to get a good look at him and then smiling. "Y'know you can ask me to help you, right? I am your girlfriend, remember?" You whisper.

He starts nodding like he's hanging off of your words, eyes set on your lips and his breathing picked up just because you've got a finger on his chin. "M-Mhm, I uh," He blinks a few times to gather himself, "I know."

You smile and step even closer, your body just barely touching his, "Takuma," You whisper yet again, causing a shiver to slip down his spine.

He was so nervous because of you, "Lover," He hums back.

A chuckle slips past you, "Lover? That's cute."

"Y'like that one? I've been brainstormin' pet names recently," Ino tells you happily, his voice soft with you due to the lack of distance between you and him.

"Yeah, that one's cute," You whisper as your lips near his, "But uh, we're not just gonna skip past this," You emphasize as your hand palms at his erection, making his breath hitch.

Ino's brows tense and so does the rest of his body, "Y'gonna take care of it, baby?" He whispers to you, eyes softening at you as you peer up at him so tentatively.

"You want me to?" You utter back, batting your eyes at him and feeling on his cock through his clothing.

"Yeah," Ino nods out, to which you give him this look and he swallows, quick to correct himself, "Yes... please."

Smiling, "How do you want me to take care of it, hm? On my knees? With my hand?"

Ino barely knows how to even answer your question, it always makes him nervous when you take the lead, not that it doesn't happen often but most times anything sexual between you two just occurs mutually.

There's not always someone in the lead and it's usually just the two of you trying to make the other feel good. Which is enjoyable of course but when you're like this? Asking him what he wants and yet telling him what you're going to do through your gaze?

Oh he's almost the one on his knees for you.

Which is how you ended up later sitting behind your boyfriend, head peering over his shoulder and arms wrapped around him so that your pretty hands could work up and down his cock.

He hardly remembers how he got into this position with you or what he said for you to even want to do this but, here he was; face red, moans pouring out, hips bucking up into your touch, eyes lidded and struggling to keep up with watching the way your two hands groped and jerked at his cock perfectly.

Your fingers and his dick glistened with spit and precum, the sounds of you giving him the best handjob he could ever have asked for loud throughout the room.

"Oh baby," Ino whines out, eyes nearly shut as he tries his hardest not to squirm too much, "That feels so fuckin' good, holy shit."

"Yeah?" You smile, "My hands feel good?" The taunting behind your words made his cock throb in your hands, slim veins bulging against your palms and making you snicker.

Ino nods his head needly, "M-Mhmm, fuck-," He gasps, voice lagging behind as he tries his best to answer you properly.

You start kissing the side of his neck and he swears his head is spinning. He doesn't even know what to focus on at this point. Your hands on his cock? Your lips on the side of his neck? Your breasts pressed into his back?

It was all too much for him, making his knees bend just for his legs to extend out seconds later, his mouth just open with moans of your name and not-so-silent whines slipping out. Did he want it to go on forever or stop as soon as possible?

Fuck, and then there was you heavy breathing against him, almost as if you were aroused by this too-

Holy shit you were. You were probably soaked just because you're busy getting your boyfriend off using those pretty hands of yours. Ino's on cloud nine just thinking about how wet your cunt probably is, his moans getting louder and louder as second pass.

Up until he can't take it anymore and he moans your name, "B-Baby, fuck, needa' feel you, please."

"Hm?" You giggle softly, though it's noticeably more breathy than usual, "You are feelin' me though?" You point out as your hands tighten around his cock.

Ino's head rests back a bit and he pants, babbling out his desperations more clearly for you, "No baby, your pussy, come put it on me, please." He huffs out.

You cunt twitches at his words and you whisper his name, "Takuma...."

"Please?" Your boyfriend begs, gulping afterward to catch his breath for a moment, "J-Just... oh fuck, let me feel you, taste you, fuck you, anything baby, please?"

"Shit, okay, okay," Is the last thing you say before you too folded under pressure and moved.

Then you were on top of him, his eyes glossy as he watched you above him. Neither of you are sure which was more stimulating, you jerking him off or what you're doing now.

Which was rubbing nothing more than his tip against your slick hole, dragging him back and forth and back and forth in between your sopping folds. His tip was glazed in your arousal and his own, both of you moaning softly at the tease of it all.

It was somehow almost better than sex itself. You liked teasing him like this and he loved being teased. Ino was in a daze, trying his hardest not to cum at the sight of you forcing his needy cock against your pussy.

Your cunt looked so fucking delicious, so wet, so warm, he wanted to be inside you so bad and that's what was arousing him right now-- the temptation to just thrust his hips up into you and finally sink his inches deep inside you.

There was a light wet and sloppy sound that followed your languid movements, his cock slipping inside of you every now and then and making you practically start drooling for it.

It was taking everything in you not to just plop down and start bouncing on his cock like you normally would but when you looked at Ino's face and saw him panting and quietly whimpering-- you knew he was about to cum and you didn't want to stop.

Rocking your pussy over his tip over and over and over and over again until he was struggling to gasp for air, hissing out a cry of your name over and over, trying to warn you.

But instead of stopping, you whine, "C'mon, cum f'me," And then he is, and his cock is leaking in cum before he can even comprehend it, never realizing how sensitive his body was to you until now.

You always kinda knew he was sensitive and sure, you rubbing his cock against your pussy was pleasurable but it really surprised you how much he came from the action.

Smirking as he comes down from his high, you then lean to him and kiss him before whispering, "Good boy," To which his jaw drops a bit and you're angling his cock to slip inside you, "Now, hurry up 'nd please your girlfriend," You huff out.

And he's nodding without a second thought, "Yes ma'am-, fuck, whatever you want, pretty girl."

[alicentofhightower]

the cost of a dragon

pairing: addam velaryon x wife!reader

synopsis: addam is covered in cuts and scrapes from falling and running in the forest, and now you must take care of him.

includes: fluff, episode 6 heavy spoilers, probably historically inaccurate w some parts but we’re just gonna Let That Slide, not proofread again oops

wc: 1.3k

a/n: i love him so bad. rn my top 3 tb characters are rhaenyra rhaena and addam. he’s so sweet!! i really hope we get to see a lot more of him in the next few episodes

-

Addam is bewildered when he returns to your home, panting, eyes wide and mouth agape. You’ve never seen him like this, but you guess that it’s the dragon laying beside your house that’s done it.

“What’s happened?” You exclaim when you see the way he’s stumbled in, bleeding from a cut on his cheek.

“…The, the dragon,” He mumbles, locked hair spilling over his shoulders. Addam walks over to where you stand by the kitchen table, hands gently grasping your forearms, as yours do his, thumbs running over your skin to ground himself. He smells strange, like something otherworldly. Could it have been because of the beast outside your door?

“It came to me, followed me through the woods by the shore. I think I’ve claimed him. Yes, that’s what I’ve done. I must go.” Addam attempts to retract himself from your grip, but to no avail.

The pots and pans inside rattle when the silver creature lay its head on the yard outside, no doubt resting from its flight. “Please, my love,” Addam insists. “I need to go and see the queen myself. She is in need of more dragons herself, is she not? If I serve her, perhaps she will allow you and I to live at Dragonstone with her. This is our chance.”

You shake your head, apron ruffling from the beach’s wind blowing through the window. Addam has always been ambitious, has always wanted the best for you and himself. He’s fiercely loyal to you, a quality that made you want to marry him in the first place.

“Addam.” Your hands fly up to cup his cheeks, stopping him from continuing on with his tangent. “You’re covered in gashes and dirt and sand. At least let me lend you a hand.”

He softens at that, jaw seeming to unclench. Addam’s brown eyes have always been expressive, and now they seem to look at you as if you’re the sweetest person he’s ever known. “…I suppose you’re right,” He mutters, “but we must make haste.”

Finally, you let go of each other. You use one of your hands to intertwine your fingers with his, and the other to grip your skirts as you lead him to your room. It’s small and modest, mostly swallowed up by the bed you share. “Sit,” You say, almost commandingly, quickly fetching a spare piece of cloth by the tub in the main room and a bowl of water.

Addam’s eyes almost glint at the way you flounce about before him. He spreads his legs so you are able to stand between them, chin tilting up so he can make eye contact with you while you fix him up.

“Let me see.”

He holds out his right arm, palm up, covered in tiny scratches and sand from his poor attempt to escape from his new dragon. Seasmoke, he remembers. Addam squeezes your right hand lightly while the other cleans him up.

You barely manage to suppress a heavy scoff at the mess in front of you, but you dab gently at it with the towel anyway, soaked with water. “What did you do?” You ask, brows knitting together. “Did you try to run from it?”

“Yes,” He admits, face scrunching together at the fresh memory. You’ve told him to be careful of the sky-beasts constantly looming over the two of you, and he knows he’ll be scolded for trying to escape the damn thing.

You shake your head, mostly to yourself, and Addam’s shoulders deflate. “Well, what would you have done?” He asks, exasperated. “My apologies for wanting to come home to you tonight.”

You pinch his arm. “I only worry for you,” You say, voice soft. Addam and his brother, Alyn, are the only family you’ve left; you’d never known your father, and your sweet mother had died of a fever shortly after your seventeenth nameday. She hadn’t been able to last, to see you wed the man you love so dearly.

“…What will you say, when you see Queen Rhaenyra? She may think you are coming as a foe, to battle rather than service.”

Addam hisses as you brush against a particularly deep cut, eyes squeezing shut. “Sorry,” You say, and he only tips your interlaced fingers up to his lips and kisses the back of your hand.

Your husband pauses after he lets your hands back down, considering the weight of whatever his words to the Black Queen will mean. He almost thinks of it as a duty, to you and his brother. To further your ever so small family.

“I suppose the words will come to me when it happens.” He swallows harshly, eyes averted from yours, darting around like he’s telling himself to fucking think.

You’ve moved onto his other arm, now, and suddenly the odor of him has become unbearable. It’s nothing like anything you’ve smelled before.

Grimacing, you drop the washcloth and cover your nose with your hand, taking a step back. “What?” questions Addam, clearly confused. “What’s the matter?”

“Gods, you fucking stink. What is that?”

Addam laughs. He laughs, tension seeping out of him as he does. “It must be the dragon,” He claims, reaching out to grab your waist and pull you back towards him. “Don’t mind it, please.”

You’re unable to fight the smile you feel blooming, because despite the fact that your husband reeks of his new dragon sleeping outside your home, and your feet are sore from walking to the markets, only to find nothing, and your nerves are set ablaze thinking of his meeting with Rhaenyra, Addam is here. He’s here with you, holding you, safe in the comfort of your humble little home.

The feeling is fleeting, only settling in you for a moment, but you tip your head down to press a kiss to his mouth. “You must be vigilant,” You plead when you pull away, ignoring the way Addam’s lips seem to chase after yours. “And you must return to me. I do not know what I would do if I were to lose you.”

“I will be. I swear it.”

You brush away the dried blood on his cheek with the cloth, frowning. “We should leave, shouldn’t we? Fly to Essos, where we will be safe without the threat of war. That dragon is large enough to saddle three, isn’t it? We can go-“

A thumb soothingly presses against your lips, silencing you. “…If I can put the thing to use, it will strengthen us. Strengthen whatever I have with my father.”

Addam had always been desperate to get the same attention from Lord Corlys that Alyn had always seemed to receive after he’d saved the man. You’d never spoken to the Lord Velaryon yourself before, but it was hard to miss the way he’d stare at you when you visited your husband in the shipyard, almost melancholically.

“I do not care for jewels and gowns and for you to be gilded in glory, Addam,” You state, pushing his wrist away from your face. “I care for you. Should we not go now? I could find your brother.”

“No.” He shakes his head, standing from the bed, now towering over you. His fingers, callused from his seemingly never-ending work on Lord Corlys’s ship, caress your waist almost reverently.

Almost every inch of your skin heats up when Addam leans down to kiss your chest, right where your heart is. The skin is covered by the sea-blue gown you wear, a white apron tied about your waist, and you shudder at the feel of his lips on such an intimate spot.

He kisses up from your bosom to your mouth again, firm and sweet and longing. There’s no guarantee you’ll ever see him again, but some strange part of you feels that all will be well. It’s a naive thought, perhaps, but one you welcome nonetheless.

“I will come back to you,” He promises, voice rasping. “I love you.”

[ja3yun]

Devil's Corner || S.JY

racer!jaeyun x rival's sister!reader warnings: smut (mdni), unprotected sex, oral (f.rec), food play - lollipops, exhibitionism (kinda), terribly described racing scenes, mentions of past trauma, anything else lmk! wc: 18k synopsis: jaeyun goes by a lot of names - leader of the lucifers, your brother's biggest rival, the number one racer in the south&west, and your non-boyfriend. on his birthday, you go to the grit track to wish him luck, not knowing your relationship is going to change forever. a/n: hi! i am not officially back, i'm still taking a break but it would be so wrong of me to miss the loml's birthday (although i'm early) <33 this isn't exactly how i wanted this to turn out so i'm sorry if it's shit 😮‍💨 anyway, i'll be back soon hopefully bc it's almost my one year anniversary. comments/feedback/reblogs are all appreciated and i love you all so much! happy jake day when it comes <3

“You know I can’t be here, Ireh,” you say, casting a wary glance around. “If Yeonjun sees me, he’ll lose his mind.”

“Will you just relax for like half a minute, please?” Ireh sighs, her voice tinged with lighthearted frustration as she tugs you closer to the grit track, the sound of revving engines growing closer. “He’s probably busy preparing for the race. You know how seriously he takes this.”

You dig your heels into the ground, stopping both of you in your tracks. “Girl, please be serious. We’re practically on the track! He could spot me in a heartbeat.”

Avoiding your older brother isn’t really in your nature; you’ve always been inseparable. You and Yeonjun are like two cubes of ice that no matter how much you whack them, they stay glued together. He always protects you, teaches you the ropes on how to navigate life even though there is only 3 years between you, and you would probably class him as one of your best friends. 

Yet, he never wants you to come to his races.

Yeonjun is one of, if not the best illegal drag racer in the city. He’s built respect around his and his crews name - Thursday’s Children - TC for short. Initially, he loved bringing you along to the races, but that quickly changed the moment you caught the attention of the one rival he despises.

Ireh turns to you, exasperation etched across her features as she crosses her arms. “So, do you want to see your boyfriend or not?”

“He is not my boyfriend, Ireh,” you retort, huffing the words out for what feels like the millionth time. But she isn’t wrong - you are here to see the boy, and though typically you wouldn’t risk coming to the tracks and getting caught by Yeonjun, there’s a reason for the risk tonight.

“Oh? So what do you call a guy you’re so hopelessly in love with that you’re willing to betray your brother and sneak behind his back?” she counters with a teasing lilt in her voice. “Because you wouldn’t do that for a casual hookup.”

That’s also the kicker of this whole thing; since that day when you bumped into Yeonjun’s rival and the ban was put in place so that you never have to come into contact with him…you’ve actually been seeing him almost every day for the past seven months. Your boyfriend who isn’t your boyfriend? That’s Sim Jaeyun - the leader of The Lucifers, and your brother's arch nemesis.

It makes you recoil every time you think about betraying your brother, especially when someone slaps you over the face with it so blatantly the way your best friend does. It’s worse because as much as you downplay the relationship, you can’t deny that there is something so real between you both. As soon as you met him, you were instantly drawn to him - like a moth to a very dangerous and reckless flame.

To be honest, you vowed to stay away from any and all racers. Each of them is arrogant and too prideful, your brother included, but the more you spoke with Jaeyun, got to know him and all his quirks, you realised quickly that he’s the exception. 

Jaeyun is ripped straight from the pages of a romance book. At first glance, with his sharp smirk and the swagger that comes with being one of the city’s top drag racers, he gives off that classic fuckboy vibe - a bit reckless, untouchable, with that unbothered arrogance he uses to get under other crew’s skin. To a lot of people, he’s just the arrogant leader of The Lucifers, quick to brush off his competition like they’re nothing. 

But that’s only half of who he is.

When it’s just the two of you, you get to see a side of Jaeyun that he guards closely - trusting you with something he doesn’t share with the world. He’s patient and tender, his words soft and careful, and it’s almost startling how different he can be. He’s not performing or putting up walls; he’s just there with you, completely and wholly, in a way that’s so real it takes your heart a minute to stop making more space for him. If you were to say this to anyone else that knew him, or of him, they would laugh in your face - and Jaeyun would deny it in a heartbeat.

It wouldn’t be fair to say he hides his ‘real’ self from others because being the racer everyone perceives is also part of him. The intensity he brings to the track is genuine - it’s a part of his soul, he’s clearly passionate about it, loving the thrill and heat that comes from burning some rubber and shouting a big fuck you to his opponent. But with you, Jaeyun allows himself to be something more. He only shows the loverboy side of him in your company, being with you gives him a moment to embrace a side of himself that he sometimes forgets about.

Of course, he’s still cocky and boastful - he’s allowed to be; he’s really fucking good - it’s the main reason why he and Yeonjun are rivals in the first place. While TC rules the North and East of the city, The Lucifers hold ownership of the South and West, but both of them want to be on top - the best in the city, not just their turfs.

In Yeonjun’s eyes, the only one who could be deemed better than him is Jaeyun, and that’s a bitter pill to swallow. So he won’t swallow it, he’ll use it as motivation instead, to beat Jaeyun in ever way possible.

Shifting your focus back to Ireh and ridding your mind of the thoughts of the leaders, you shake your head and let out the fakest laugh you think you’ve ever heard spit from your mouth. “In love with him? I am not in love with him. We’re just, seeing one another, casual, y’know?”

Ireh holds that knowing stare on you as you stand there, your mind battling with itself like it usually does in moments like these, justification and excuses bubbling up. “Listen, you can keep him as your ‘not boyfriend’ all you want,” she adds with a smirk, “but you know that label isn’t hiding your feelings. It’s written all over your face -  even now.”

You’re an open book, what your mouth doesn’t say, your face certainly will and you’re more than sure it’s telling the story of your heart that you refuse to admit. For both your sake and Jaeyun’s.

“Whatever, let’s just go find him.” Rolling your eyes, you take her arm and lead her further into the pit of people.

It’s heaving with racers, pit lizards, and those just looking to have a good time and smell the fumes. The floodlights guide you to the edge of the track while you thread your and Ireh's way through the crowd, moving closer to the edge, where you get a clear view of the grit track. Out of all the places Yeonjun and Jaeyun race, this track has a special place in your heart. There’s nothing too fancy about it, but it does have one element that outdoes all the rest; Devil’s Corner.

Devil’s Corner is infamous, a steep turn that has racers pushing their cars to the limit. They either conquer the bend or be conquered by it. It’s a sharp, merciless curve that rises slightly before plunging down at a nearly impossible angle, leading straight into a narrow stretch and to the finish line. So many have tried to beat it or show off on it - you’ve seen more than one car flip or crumpling like a smooshed tin can. 

Luckily, both your brother and Jaeyun know exactly how to handle it, masters of their art being proven each time. You never have to worry about them too much when it comes to this track, they’re usually way ahead of whatever chump tries to race them, but a little flutter of anxiety will always be there.

You squint against the harsh glare of headlights, raising a hand to shield your eyes as you scan the crowd. Among the bustle, you spot Heeseung and Jongseong leaning casually against a car with the devil printed crudely onto it, looking entirely at ease in the chaotic scene. They’re two of Jaeyun’s closest friends and crewmates, so wherever they are, he’s usually not far behind.

Heeseung is the first to notice you, nudging Jongseong with a mischievous glint in his eye as he shoots you a welcoming look. The two of them are more than just members of The Lucifers - they’re practically family to Jaeyun, and in turn that makes them your number one hype men and the only others to know about your secret fling.

Squeezing her arm, you guide Ireh across the track and into red territory, smiling brightly and suddenly forgetting about the possibility of Yeonjun spotting you. 

“Hi, boys!” you greet them warmly, letting go of your friend to hug them tightly. “How are you feeling?” Both of them have races tonight, though you could never tell with how nonchalant they both look. Going against TC always has higher stakes, but they don’t seem fussed.

Jongseong pats your head and smirks. “We’re chill, it’s only Gyu and Soobin, hardly competition.”

“We are shocked to see you though, doesn’t little Junnie usually keep you in a cage when it comes to TC Lucifer races?” Heeseung nips in.

“Well, I had to come and-”

“Support the number one racer on his birthday,” a fading Australian accent interrupts your sentence, his hands gripping your hips and instinctively pulling you back into him, your ass pressing against one of your favourite parts of him. 

Jaeyun’s touch is intoxicating, a magnetic pull that has you leaning back into him without a second thought, any anxiety about Yeonjun’s lurking eyes now vanished. His hands drift up and down your waist, lingering over the curves he knows so well, savouring the feel of the skintight dress you’ve slipped into just for him. You can feel his gaze, possessive, admiring, and utterly absorbed into you as his fingers press against the sheer fabric at your sides, the warmth of his skin teasing yours through the thin material. He loves it when you dress up for him because he knows it’s only for him, not one of these other fuckers at the grit track gets to touch you the way he does, gets to see you the way he does. 

Instinctively, he dips his head, his lips grazing your shoulder, trailing upwards in a slow, lazy path that sends a pulse straight to your core. His mouth follows the line of your neck, leaving a trail of heat that makes you feel like the two of you are alone in the world, past all of the noise and chaos around you. When he reaches your ear, he nibbles down and whispers, “Hi, Princess.” It’s a greeting as much as a claim, you’re his princess.

You’re aware, somewhere in the back of your mind, that this is probably the most reckless thing you could do. Yeonjun could be here any second, his protective instincts would be kicking in if he caught even a speckle of Jaeyun’s hands on you. And yet, the thrill of it only makes you want to sink deeper into Jaeyun’s touch. He holds you firmly, his grip the only thing holding you up right now.

However, you need to let go, scared of the repercussions. It’s bad enough you’re even on this side of the track, let alone in the arms of The Lucifer’s leader. So you spin around, gathering your bones and standing upright, although they almost turn to jelly again as soon as you see him.

His hair is bouncy, parted down the middle with two strands falling effortlessly on his face, pointing straight to that perfect nose that you’ve had the pleasure of riding one or ten times. His lips are curled up in a small smile, so subtle only you can see before it turns into a full-blown smirk, his kissable lips so inviting as he bites into his bottom one. You love his mouth, everything about it; how it looks, the way it tastes, it’s magical skills when it’s in between your legs, all of it.

“Happy birthday,” you murmur, smiling so fondly at him that you know Ireh is going to have something to say about it later.

“Thanks. What did my girl get me?” he asks, leaning forward and ghosting his lips over yours, his bottom lip begging to be bitten and sucked on. Every time he calls you his girl, you swear you almost get down on your knees and begin to worship him. 

Maybe you’re starting to see what Ireh and his friends mean about your non-existent label and what it should be.

You resist the urge to just devour him in a kiss as you speak. “I can’t show you it right now, not here,” you tease, poking your tongue out to wet your lips.

“Yeah? What if I ditch this race and we go somewhere that you can show me?” His voice is low and inviting, every word dripping with promise. Jaeyun leans down, his lips hovering just inches from yours, his eyes gleaming playfully. His hands roam up your back, his fingers pressing just hard enough to make you shudder, his nails grazing your skin ever so slightly - a subtle incentive to consider his tempting suggestion.

Before you can even nod, though, Jongseong clears his throat pointedly, a slight smirk tugging at his mouth. “Actually, mate, you really can’t skip this one,” he says in a language you can’t understand, his tone heavy with meaning meant solely for Jaeyun.

Jaeyun’s grip loosens slightly as he pulls back, and you seize the moment to break from his hypnotic gaze, turning to face Jongseong with a raised eyebrow. “What’s so special about this race?” you ask, voice laced with curiosity. “What’s at stake this time, a car?”

High-stakes wagers are nothing new. Racers love to have some form of motivation and it’s not unusual for bets to involve money, cars, or something like territorial rights over parts of the city. And while you don’t know exactly what’s in play, the tension between Jongseong and Jaeyun suggests this isn’t just any race.

“Not a car,” Jaeyun begins removing his hands from your waist, and just in time too, because over the racer's shoulder, you see someone walking over with raw fury and intensity over their features.

“What the fuck are you doing here, Y/N?” Yeonjun spits as he approaches, his aura red. The last time you saw him this angry was when you accidentally mistook his MSCHF boots as funky vases and put the tulips that Jaeyun had got you inside them. Of course, he didn’t know they were from his rival, but you did just ruin his £300 shoes. 

Truthfully, they looked better as a vase.

Jaeyun’s hand still rests on your waist, firm and possessive, but you reluctantly take a step back, putting as much space as possible between you. You will yourself to look unfazed and relaxed, praying Yeonjun hadn’t seen Jaeyun practically dry-humping you just moments before.

Thinking on her feet, Ireh steps in, tossing a casual arm over Jongseong’s shoulder with a bright smile. “Actually, it’s my fault, Yeonjun,” she chirps, doing her best to sound apologetic yet unbothered. “I wanted to see Jongseong race, and I dragged Y/N along for moral support.” Her voice drops, filled with mock affection. “We’re dating.”

Everyone looks confused except Ireh, who is putting all those years bluffing to her parents about her whereabouts in the middle of the night to the ultimate test. They are easily fooled, but Yeonjun is not.

Glancing down at his ‘girlfriend’, Jongseong wears a look of uncertainty but also…happiness? You always suspected his crush on your best friend, this just confirms it. Like breathing, he slips into the role, slipping his arm around her waist and kissing her temple lovingly - he’s clearly taking this as an opportunity to be close to her.

Yeonjun’s lip curls as he looks Jongseong up and down with a mixture of disgust and disbelief. “Slim pickings around here, I guess. I didn’t think you’d settle for a shit stain on the sidewalk.”

Jongseong’s easygoing expression hardens as he holds Ireh close, offended and possessive. “Watch your fucking mouth,” he growls, his tone a warning.

Amidst the brewing tension, Jaeyun’s hand sneaks to find home on your ass, his grip firm and reassuring. He’s careful though, keeping his touch just out of Yeonjun’s line of sight, but you can tell he also doesn’t care, not really. He would fight your brother in an instant if it wasn’t for you asking him to keep it in check. No one ever tells Jaeyun what to do - not the authorities, not family, no one - but he’ll make the exception for you.

“Get off our side, Yeonjun,” Jaeyun finally interjects and pausing the bickering, his voice low and steady, clearly unbothered by the confrontation brewing. He removes his hand from you and he regrets it almost the moment it happens, wishing he could glue himself to you and always feel your warmth.

“Not until I get my sister back,” Yeonjun retorts, the words hang thickly in the air as the rest of The Lucifers gather around. 

Even the mere suggestion of you being taken away stirs something in Jaeyun, a slight tightening of his jaw, a flicker of protectiveness in his eyes. Now that he has you by his side, on his side both physically and literally, he doesn’t like you too far away.

But Jaeyun’s lips twitch into a mocking smile as he crosses his arms and hides his true feelings, eyes never leaving Yeonjun’s. “Take her back then,” he scoffs, tilting his head with an air of nonchalance that only stokes the fire. He turns to you, smirking and hiding that beautiful boy you know behind the arrogance of himself. “If that’s what she wants.”

The ball is in your court and you hate when people do this to you - making you choose - and this is the worst choice of all. Jaeyun is giving you the opening to stand up for yourself, something he’s been slowly but surely trying to help you do throughout the seven months of seeing him, but it’s so much harder than he realises. 

Betraying Yeonjun feels like tearing a piece of your soul away. The thought of hurting him, of driving a wedge between you twists in your gut. It’s not easy to reconcile the love you have for your brother with the undeniable connection you share with Jaeyun.

As the silence stretches, you take a deep breath, your heart racing. You glance at Jaeyun with sorrowful eyes, knowing you’re disappointing him with what you’re about to do. You take a step forward and stand by Yeonjun, looking down shamefully. You don’t dare look at the hurt in Jaeyun’s eyes.

And it’s there, only for you to see. He had truly hoped that this would say a big ‘fuck you’ and rid yourself of the shackles of Yeonjun’s overbearing brotherly role and claim the independence he’s been encouraging you to reach for. 

In all honesty, he has been respecting your wishes and he’s content with that, but he hates to see you battling with it so damagingly. Your anxiety gets the better of you sometimes, your brain whispering insults and what ifs while Jaeyun’s lips are on yours,l. It’s gotren so bad in fact that half of your secret meetups have consisted of you sitting in his lap while he strokes your back, whispering petal soft reassurances to calm you down from turmoil. 

Not exactly a five star date.

In some way, he wonders if the weight of it all is pressing harder now because you’re both crossing into a deeper territory of emotions that you can’t step back from.

“Ireh, don’t you dare bring Y/N back here again,” he warns your best friend, stepping in front of you, his way of protecting you but really he’s just locking you in the cage that he built. You can feel the heat of anger surrounding him and you feel ashamed. Not only are you in trouble but now your best friend is getting the blame for it. All because you can’t tell Yeonjun the truth.

Jaeyun pokes his tongue in his cheek and laughs, shaking his head in disbelief. He doesn’t say anything, but that’s enough to make Yeonjun tense once again, narrowing his eyes.

“You want to say something else?” your brother grits out, hoping that Jaeyun will bite his bait. 

Yet, Jaeyun simply raises his hands in a gesture of mock surrender, a playful smile on his face. “Nah, mate. I’ll save all my talking for out on the track, yeah?” The tone of his words is light but there’s an underlying tension simmering as he stops himself from saying what he really thinks. 

What he really wants to say is how fucking ridiculous it is to watch Yeonjun try to control not just your life but also those who have no obligation to bow to him. It’s clearly a trait of his - one he can’t get on board with.

However, the phrase ‘save all my talking for out on the track’ strikes you as oddly significant. You then suddenly remember Jongseong’s earlier cryptic warnings to Jaeyun about how he should stick around for the race and it all clicks into place. 

Your eyes widen as you search Jaeyun’s expression for confirmation, but he remains locked onto Yeonjun’s fierce glare, the two of them engaged in a silent battle of wills.

Pulling at Yeonjun’s wrist, you draw his attention back to you, though his gaze never wavers from Jaeyun. “You’re racing each other tonight? Why?” you ask, concern creeping into your voice.

Of course, it’s not uncommon for leaders of rival crews to face off in races; it happens all the time. But the stakes feel particularly high tonight, and a knot of worry forms in your stomach. They haven’t battled it out since that night you met Jaeyun and that almost ended with Yeonjun crashing and Jaeyun turning upside down. 

They have no limits when it comes to racing one another, and at the grit track, that can only mean bad things.

“Because Jaeyun here decided he wants this track to himself,” Yeonjun explains half-heartedly. 

The grit track is TC territory, placed technically within the east side of the city, but its location on the very edge of the west makes it up for grabs - if they can win it. For years, The Lucifers have wanted this spot, the leaders well before Jaeyun took charge could never do it. TC leaders make sure this is the one track they’re masters at, no one is ever able to beat them on it.

Jaeyun’s smirk widens, and he steps closer, closing the space between them. “The track belongs to whoever can handle it, not whoever sticks their name on it and hopes everyone just plays nice.”

“I’ve been handling it, in case you couldn’t see that,” he chides back, not appreciating the jab. “Your old leader Mingi couldn’t handle it against me, that’s the reason you became leader, right?”

Yeonjun’s smirk is cold, knowing that mentioning the former leader will get the reaction he wants from Jaeyun - and it does. Jaeyun’s easy smirk falters for a split second, his eyes darkening with a flash of barely concealed rage. Mentioning Mingi was a low blow, they both know it. 

Mingi is Jaeyun’s best friend and the night he tried to stake claim on TC turf, he ended up crashing the car, paralysing his body from the waist down. In truth, it’s the only reason Jaeyun is standing in the position he is right now, and he hates that fact.

He always admired Mingi as a leader.

Jaeyun’s voice drops, dangerously calm. “Say his name again,” he warns as the muscles in his jaw tighten. “But make sure you remember that if he hadn’t crashed because of your pathetic excuse of a trick, he would have this track, easy.”

Yeonjun’s smug grin only widens, feeding off the frustration simmering in his rival. “Is that right? Funny, because as far as I remember, it wasn’t foul play, he just couldn’t handle Devil’s Corner, and we all know what happened after that. Or maybe you’d like a reminder?”

The tension is suffocating, an invisible line drawn in the dirt between them, and everyone around senses that one wrong word could send it spiralling out of control. Jaeyun takes a step closer, closing the gap so that they’re nearly nose-to-nose. “You better watch your fucking mouth, you know what you did.”

You don’t know much about that night, neither of the men in your life wishing to utter a word about it, but all you’ve gathered from the rumours is that there are two sides to believe; one in which Mingi was simply reckless on the corner, a freak accident due to his negligence, the other? Yeonjun and his crew planted a spike trail on the road that caused him to flip over and roll down the hill. 

The rumours were never settled because the car took such a tumble that it eventually got engulfed in flames, the tyres melting and any evidence gone. It’s one of the biggest mysteries amongst the crews and only TC will truly know the truth, not that they would ever admit it.

Do you think your brother could do such a thing? Not in a million years, but you also know his competitive streak can cloud his judgment. Either way, you’re nervous about his and Jaeyun’s safety tonight.

Yeonjun’s expression hardens, dropping all pretences of mockery. “Prove it. I did fuck all, your pathetic excuse for a leader was just a shit driver that couldn’t handle the heat.”

The words are enough to push Jaeyun to the edge. His fists clench at his sides, but before he can lurch forward and connect his knuckles with your brother’s face, Heeseung pulls him back with a firm grip on his shoulder, speaking low and steady. “It’s not worth it, Jae. He wants you to lose it.”

“And I fucking will, the prick deserves it,” you hear him argue with his friend. It’s moments like these you wish you could just walk over to him and settle his nerves. Not in the Joey King in Kissing Booth way with the cliche ‘look at me, look at me’ vibes, but let him know that you’re there for him, that this urge to win and prove something might end up even more disastrous than Mingi’s fate.

While Heeseung and Jongseong tend to Jaeyun’s flaring temper, Yeonjun shifts his focus to you, his rebellious sister. “Seriously, Y/N, I told you to stay the fuck away from these races,” he has venom in his voice but that’s still lingering from the spout with Jaeyun. Towards you, there is affection and concern, his usual feelings towards you.

“I just…Ireh wanted me to come,” you lie, using the dark night and shadows from the floodlights to mask your growing nose. 

“Okay, fine. You still should have said no,” he rebuts, suddenly giving you a quick glance over, “And why are you dressed like that? You never dress like a track hopper.” 

It’s a little insulting, considering what you wear is none of his business, and that you actually do feel good in it.

You square your shoulders, meeting Yeonjun’s scrutinising gaze. “I wanted to dress up for once, alright? Is that such a crime?” you snap, your voice sharper than you initially intended. But something about his tone, so quick to judge, grates on you.

Yeonjun’s eyes soften just a fraction, and he sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Look, Y/N,” he begins, his tone shifting to something gentler. “I don’t mean to give you a hard time. I just don’t want you getting dragged into this, especially tonight.” His eyes flick to the track, the pits where engines roar to life, and the crowd of people buzzing with dangerous energy as they wait for the next race. “You’re above all of this.”

A small pang of guilt tugs at you, but you hold your ground. “I’m not here to cause trouble, Yeonjun. Let me just stay to support you,” you lie again, stomach twisting as the truth sits, heavy and hidden.

Yeonjun narrows his eyes, not fully convinced but willing to let it go - for now. “Alright, but stay out of the pit. And if anything happens, you leave, got it?”

“Got it. I’ll keep my distance.”

Satisfied, he gives a brief nod, but as he turns back towards his car, guiding you over to the right side of the track, where you belong. You look back as you watch Jaeyun eye you up, saddened at your sudden removal, but expecting it nonetheless.

You guess you’ll just need to see him once this is all over, and both of them finish this race safely.

You hope.

_____

The sound of engines revving fills the night air as you stand on the edge of the track, patiently awaiting Jaeyun and Yeonjun’s arrival. Your nerves are unsettled and your mind is very much being represented like that one scene in Spongebob where he forgets his name and the little sponges in his brain scramble for the answer.

It’s been a long time since you felt this tense, you thought coming here and hiding would be the thrill of your night, turns out that was the most mundane - and unsuccessful part.

The crowd is bigger now, all revved up - no pun intended - for the race. The stakes are high, like really high and you can’t imagine what the outcome could possibly be. 

A thrill courses through the crowd, the anticipation tangible as Jaeyun’s car pulls up on the east side of the track - your side. While most of the TCs around you murmur, assuming he’s just trying to throw Yeonjun off, they couldn’t be further from the truth. Jaeyun’s tactic isn’t about intimidation; he just wants a final glance at you before the race begins, to see you in that dress that Yeonjun hates oh so much, and use it as motivation. He doesn’t want to show off per say, but if you’re impressed, it’s a bonus.

The intensity in his eyes across the crowd is unmistakable, and when he whistles, a slight, beckoning tilt of his head makes it clear he’s calling you over.

You look around to see if anyone noticed, and once you’re convinced they haven’t, you check your brother. Sure enough, he’s deep in conversation with his crew, oblivious as he checks his car’s setup. 

Is it stupid to go over and risk getting caught? Of course. But Jaeyun has a persuasive smile and dreamy eyes to match. So the next thing you know, you take a deep breath, slipping through the sea of people, and make your way towards Jaeyun’s car. His smirk widens as you reach him, his hand already extended to brush your arm.

But you swat it away, half playfully, half serious. “What are you doing?”

“What?” he asks, eyes glinting with amusement. “Can’t a guy get a good luck kiss from his girl?”

“Jaeyun, are you fucking crazy? Look who’s right next to you!” you hiss, gesturing towards Yeonjun, who’s still unaware, thankfully. You really appreciate his attention to detail in these moments.

“Princess, you’ve been sneaking around and bouncing on my cock for seven months now. If he hasn’t caught on by now, I doubt he’s going to. He probably doesn’t even care.” He says it so easily, like all of this has just been in your mind and not a real threat.

“Yeah? Tell that to the way he glared you down not two hours ago. Or did you miss the part where he wanted to tear you to pieces for even breathing next to me?”

Jaeyun barely flinches at the mention, a hint of a pout replacing his smirk. “Come on, it’s my birthday. Don’t you think I deserve at least one little kiss?”

“Didn’t you already use the birthday excuse to get me here?” you counter, eyeing him with a playful twinkle.

“That’s for attendance,” he teases, leaning closer to you, practically hanging out the window just for a taste of you. “Kisses are part of the package.”

Unable to resist the temptation in his eyes, you check over your shoulder one last time before leaning in, brushing your lips against his in what should be a quick peck for luck, but he turns into so much more. 

Jaeyun’s hand slides up to cradle your cheek, his touch warm and possessive. His thumb brushes softly over your skin as he deepens the kiss, ignoring the chaos, this stolen moment is the only thing that matters. His fingertips, rough from years of racing, contrast with the gentle way he holds you, drawing you further into him.

His tongue sweeps over your lips and you can’t help but groan and grant him access to your mouth, praying to the gods to get a taste of him. You’re greedy for him, ravenous almost, and he mirrors your need. If he wasn’t in front of at least one hundred people, including your brother, he would be dragging your pretty ass into this car and watching your tits clap in his face.

But then, like a bucket of cold water, reality hits as Jungwon steps between the two cars, flag poised for the start. You pull away reluctantly and savour the last few pecks Jaeyun plants on your puffy, lipgloss-smudged lips. 

Yeonjun snaps to attention suddenly aware of your appearnce and his voice cuts sharply through the revving engines. “Y/N! What the fuck are you doing?” he shouts, his tone edged with disbelief and frustration. “I told you to stay off the pit!”

You jump, instinctively retreating from Jaeyun’s side as you stammer out a response, just thankful that he didn’t seem to notice how seconds prior you were getting your tonsils tangled with Jaeyun. “I was just…I was wishing you good luck!” You walk quickly, rounding Jaeyun’s car, trying to ignore the lingering sensation of the kiss. But Yeonjun’s face is a mask of exasperation as you approach his window.

“Y/N, get back!” he orders, eyes widening as he glances at Jungwon, who’s counting down without a care in the world.

Only then do you realise you’re directly between the two cars, and neither Jaeyun nor Yeonjun seems willing to delay the race.

“Three!” Jungwon’s deep voice booms, the crowd roaring as the tension builds.

Your feet feel glued to the ground, panic swelling in your chest. You know that chances of you getting hurt are slim, but you’ve never been this close to the race, so close that you can feel the heat from their motors swirling your leg like those snakes on Lucy Grey.

“Two!”

Jungwon raises the flag, ready to unleash it. The cars tremble with power, the engines growling, but your brain’s too scrambled to make a move. Jaeyun sees your tense frame and panics for you, scared of even a scratch on you.

“One!”

Suddenly, you feel a jolt - a car door bumps against the back of your legs, and before you know it, strong hands grab your waist, pulling you backwards in a quick, fluid motion. You land on something soft, but before you even realise what’s happened, Jaeyun’s arm reaches across to steady you in the passenger seat of his car.

“Go!”

With a salute to Yeonjun that’s equal parts taunt and triumph, Jaeyun hits the gas, and the world blurs as he speeds off, leaving your brother gaping in stunned disbelief behind you.

The wind whips through the open passenger door as you scramble to sit upright, barely processing what just happened. You feel like you’re suddenly on a rollercoaster, the car's oomph causing you to stick to the seat like the Sticky Wall.

“Can you shut that, Princess? You’re letting a draft in,” he smirks, too pleased with himself.

But all you can do is stare back, aghast. “What the fuck, Jae?! This is not funny.”

“It’s not, you could have got fucking hurt,” he tries to play it off as a joke but you hear the seriousness in his tone. When you look at him, you also see the slight fear in his eyes.

Jaeyun knows it was stupid to drag you into his car, but he panicked, what else could he do? All the possibilities swam across his mind like a reckless current. You could have gotten scratched up by the grit, swooped under the tyres with the sheer power of the acceleration…or worse.

Not all of these scenarios make sense, but the fear of losing you makes him think even the impossible. So if he can save you even from probabilities, then he will.

You reach over and such the door, the wind making it difficult as he rounds a corner. Once it clicks into place, you relax a little, breathing out. It happened in such a blur that you can’t even figure out where on the track you are. All you know is that Jaeyun is first, and you’re stuck in this race whether you like it or not.

Without taking his eyes off the road or his foot off the accelerator, he reaches over you and grabs the seatbelt, fiddling with it awkwardly to secure you in. You hate to say that you’re looking at the veins on his hands as he unravels it, but you are. You could be helping him and saving him the struggle but it’s just too fucking delicious to look at.

That distraction is the only thing stopping your heart from leaping out of your throat.

“Did you really think dragging me into your car, going a million miles per hour and having to survive the grit track safer than me standing on the starting line?” you question him, disbelief and mockery in your tone.

Jaeyun furrows his brows and lets your words sink in. “Well…when you put it that way, it’s dumb,” he agrees, mentally cursing himself. “But if you think about it, now your brother won’t pull any of his tricks. Not with his precious sister in the car.”

Now that embarrassment for his rash decision is turning into pride. Maybe subconsciously he pulled you into his car as a safety measure, after all, can’t be too careful around a bunch of TCs; not when there is so much at stake.

“Really? I’m a reassurance? What if he’s already planned something and you’ve just brought me to my demise?” It hurts you that Jaeyun truly believes your brother is capable of dirty tricks, but then again, you don’t have one hundred percent faith that he wouldn’t pull something.

Jaeyun looks into his rearview mirror and sees Yeonjun hot on his tail, probably filled with enough fury to power his car without an engine. It makes Jaeyun nervous, both your words and Yeonjun’s gaining speed, but he masks it under a laugh.

“At least we would die together. What’s that song? To die by your side-”

“Is such a heavenly way to die, yeah, yeah, it’s one of my favourite songs,” you admit, heart blushing that he even remembered it considering his playlists contain an abundance of Justin Bieber and other generic pop acts - he’s not really one to appreciate the Smiths. “But I would rather listen to the lyrics than live it out, Jaeyun.”

“I don’t see a double-decker bus,” he looks at you for a split second but it’s long enough that you see the teasing glint in his eye that masks his genuine concern, and weirdly, it puts you at ease. He would never let anything happen to you, you know that deep down.

You let out a genuine laugh and whack his arm playfully. “You know what I mean, Jaeyun.”

“Princess,” he intertwines his fingers with you, a chuckle escaping his lips, “I promise, okay? You will get out of this car in one piece.” Jaeyun kisses your knuckles and it’s both stomach fluttering and impressive how he can handle a car going 80mph and still have time to dote on you.

The romance doesn’t last too long though, because he has to lock in and focus. Behind him, Yeonjun’s car looms closer, headlights glowing like the eyes of a predator. He’s tailing Jaeyun so closely that any error, even a slight miscalculation, could end it all in a brutal collision. Jaeyun glances at his rearview mirror, catching a glimpse of Yeonjun’s face, fierce and determined.

He figured your brother wouldn’t be in the best of moods with his act.

“You think that little gap’s gonna stop him?” you mutter, gripping the seat as Jaeyun expertly rounds another bend, tyres squealing against the track’s rough surface.

“Not a chance,” Jaeyun replies with a grin. “But it’ll take him a few seconds longer. Enough for me to play with.”

He shifts gears, feeling the engine’s deep growl as he powers down a straight stretch, his speedometer needle pushing higher. Yeonjun matches his pace, but Jaeyun, ever the strategist, swerves slightly, throwing up a cloud of grit in his rival’s direction. The dust storm is thick enough to obscure Yeonjun’s vision momentarily, forcing him to fall back by a hair’s breadth.

Jaeyun accelerates, barely missing a pile of tyres on his right. Just as he slips past, Yeonjun veers to the inside lane, attempting to pass on Jaeyun’s left. The corner’s coming up fast - a sharp, unforgiving turn with no forgiveness if they misjudge. Jaeyun catches on immediately, not giving Yeonjun the satisfaction. With a calculated flick of the wheel, he forces Yeonjun to either fall back or risk veering straight into the barrier.

Yeonjun, however, isn’t about to let him off easy. He falls back just enough to avoid a crash but quickly cuts to Jaeyun’s other side, inches away, daring him to swerve first. Their cars glide nearly side-by-side, matching each other’s pace in a tense, furious dance.

It’s so scary, being in the passenger seat of a car that’s almost buckling under the pressure of how fast it’s going. Of course, you knew this was not going to be like overtaking someone on the M8, but you sure as fuck didn’t expect this. The world is flying by you so fast that you can’t begin to comprehend how either of them even drives like this.

Your brother’s car pulls up beside you both and making eye contact with him is the worst thing in the world you could do. 

“Y/N, what the fuck?!” you lip read, unable to actually hear him over the roar of the engines. He blames you so easily -  even if it is 60% of your fault because you answered Jaeyun’s beckon - but it still makes you a little mad. 

Did you want to be dragged into this? Absolutely not. All you wanted was to kiss your pretty non-boyfriend good luck on his birthday, you didn’t need all these dramatics with it; you get enough fireworks in your belly from his pretty mouth alone.

The sound of the engine thunders louder, Jaeyun accelerating and pushing his car beyond its threshold as he glides through the race. It’s all pretty intense - and oddly fun - but it’s not about to be in roughly one minute. 

“Devil’s Corner’s up,” you murmur as if Jaeyun even needs the reminder. But he only nods, that familiar smirk dancing on his lips, a spark of something almost wicked in his eyes.

“I know,” he says with a determined grin, shifting gears smoothly as he sets up for the turn. “This is where your brother won’t risk it. He’s too careful with the track; it’s got him wrapped around its finger.”

“Everyone is careful around this part of the track…” you half express as a statement while also hinting that it could be a question, inquiring what Jaeyun could possibly do next. 

Your trail-off sentence steals his attention and he sees the query in your eyes. He inhales deeply before addressing the elephant in the car you’ve somehow given birth to. 

“Princess, do you trust me?”

“Of course, it’s the track I don’t,” you confess.

“Me either, but I gotta pull all the punches here; for the track, for the Lucifiers…for Mingi.” His voice cracks a little as he thinks of his friend, and the damage it caused him. 

Jaeyun's gaze hardens, fingers gripping the wheel so tightly his knuckles whiten, as though he’s holding not just the car but every ounce of the Lucifier’s pride and promise he’s made as their leader. His mind is as sharply focused on Mingi as it is on the wheel, almost as if his friend’s presence is woven into every inch of the track ahead. There’s a weight he feels, a determination to make his best friend proud, to take the track that cost Mingi so much.

"Trusting me means sticking it out," he adds, almost like a dare. “You ready?”

You swallow, nerves bubbling as you nod, barely managing a steady breath. “Just…don’t do anything stupid, okay?” But even as you say it, you know Jaeyun’s already got a strategy, one as risky as it is relentless. He could fucking kill you right now and yet, you’re ready to put your life in his hands, because you know he’s never going to snap it.

Kind of like your heart.

Ahead, Devil’s Corner yawns open like a waiting trap, and Yeonjun knows it. You can feel the weight of your brother’s stare from the other car, his eyes sharp with worry and rivalry. He’s fought this corner countless times and knows that going at it full throttle will never end well. You catch the fleeting look on Yeonjun’s face - a mixture of fear, anger, and an unspoken warning. He’s petrified for you, not knowing how far Jaeyun will go to secure the win.

Yet, you couldn’t be calmer.

“Hold on, yeah?” Jaeyun instructs and you immediately obey, watching as the dial hits it’s peak, his car flying even further in front of Yeonjun’s.

“You need to slow down, Jae…” you warn.

“How about you put that trust into action yeah?” he snaps back, though his anger isn’t directed at you, he’s just nervously tense. Who wouldn’t be in a situation like this? So you don’t hold it against him. If anything, it just makes you want to take his hand in yours and offer him some semblance of comfort. 

But that would be silly right now considering there’s a death corner with you and his name on it.

As Jaeyun steers into Devil’s Corner, the entire car seems to tighten, every movement rippling through you as though you were an ant, squashed under the tyre. The pressure outside is immense, like a wall of wind trying to shove the car off the road. Inside, it’s nearly as suffocating, the tension compressing everything around you, even your heartbeat syncs with each vibration of the engine.

The curve is sharp - even sharper than you’d realised watching from the stands - and you feel the pull of gravity as Jaeyun doesn’t so much follow the turn as he cuts through it, daring the edge. Gravel spits and clinks against the sides of his precious baby.

Yeonjun is somewhere far back, but you can’t even think about him or his safety. The only thing consuming your mind is Jaeyun’s grip on the wheel and the creeping dread and exhilaration fighting for space in your lungs.

Squeezing your eyes shut, you convince yourself that it’s less scary to face it if you can’t actually see it - using the ‘if I can’t see you, you can’t see me’ childlike tactic to feel brave. And in the midst of it all, as the car feels like it’s on the edge of its control, you hear Jaeyun’s voice over the noise - a steadying presence cutting through as he senses your apprehension.

“Nearly there, Princess,” he mutters through gritted teeth, his jaw clenched and his heart holding still within his chest. Although he’s fighting the battle of fear and hope inside of him, his voice anchors you just enough to brace yourself.

The car rockets through the tightest part of the bend, wheels practically skating on the track's very edge - the same edge that caused Mingi his loss of legs. You grip onto whatever you can as Jaeyun’s knuckles whiten, his hands firm and controlled on the wheel. The tension in the car mounts like a coiled spring ready to snap, the corner pulling both of you, testing how far it can go before either you or the car breaks under pressure.

At last, you feel the tail end of the car swerve slightly as Jaeyun gives just enough leeway to keep control, and you can sense him gaining ground, just barely escaping the grasp of the turn. Devil’s Corner spits you both out onto the straight stretch and for a heartbeat, there’s only the muted sound of your breathing, mixing with Jaeyun’s, heavy and relieved.

Finally, you open your eyes to see the road unwinding ahead, straighter, safer, and almost welcoming after the chaos of the corner. Your pulse is still racing, but the danger feels like it’s finally behind you - or so you hope. Jaeyun throws you a quick, side-glance, his usual cocky smirk returned but softer, almost a silent acknowledgement of the risk he just took with you by his side.

He doesn’t need to say anything, but as he shifts gears, pressing down harder on the accelerator to widen the gap between him and Yeonjun, his smirk says it all: That was for Mingi, and for you.

Once he sees the finish line in sight, he breathes out and slaps the wheel harshly. “Fuck, yeah!” he hollers, a shit-eating grin plastered all over his face, victory secured and only a long stretch away. 

“Holy fuck…” you breathe out, chest heaving and eyes glued to the road in front of you.

“And you doubted me,” he feigns an upset pout and tilts his head in your direction.

“Well, you still have Yeonjun to deal with.” The reminder of your brother fast approaching doesn’t rock him, instead, he laughs.

Shaking his head as if Yeonjun’s trailing position is as much of an inconvenience as a bird shitting on his windshield, Jaeyun places a hand on your thigh and squeezes. “He’s still there because I let him be there. Can’t humiliate the guy completely y’know? He’ll be my family in the future.” 

Your mouth opens as you process his words, unsure if he even realises what he just said. It’s a pass-away promise of commitment, and considering you aren’t even officially dating, you would say it’s thrown you off of Everest and has your mind tumbling down after your body.

It’s probably best to bring it up later though, you don’t want to throw him off, especially considering he’s still going 50mph.

He smirks and revs the engine once more, pushing the car just shy of its limits. “Why so worried? I’ve got a perfect record of keeping you safe, don’t I?” He raises an eyebrow at you, his voice laced with that familiar teasing tone.

“Oh, you mean the ‘perfect’ record that almost just got me toppling over into the ditches of Devil’s Corner?” You roll your eyes, but a smile creeps onto your face.

“You’re alive, aren’t you?” he grins, then he pulls his attention fully to the finish line up ahead. It’s close enough now that the crowd is visible, and he salutes them with a quick flick of his hand. 

God, he’s so hot when he’s like this. How lazily arrogant his entire racing persona is. You adore his softer side, of course you do, but this side of him gets your own motor running.

Yeonjun, however, isn’t ready to concede. He surges forward, lining up beside you both in a final, determined push, his car engine roaring with a fury that sends chills down your spine. You see him shoot a glare, not just at Jaeyun, but at you as well. But Jaeyun merely returns the look, cool and unbothered, and then, with one final roar of his engine, he edges past the line first, a triumphant laugh escaping his lips.

Jaeyun’s car barrels across the finish line with a triumphant howl from the crowd, cheers blending with the echo of his engine as he cuts through the air, a living victory. The thrill radiates off him; he punches the air, letting out a victorious whoop as his foot remains steady on the accelerator. He finally glances over at you, his face alive with pure elation, his cocky grin fully in place. But instead of slowing down, he maintains his speed, the wind whipping through the car as you look back at the receding crowd.

"Wait - where are we going?" you ask confused, looking back as you pass by everyone and leaving them in the wake of victory.

Jaeyun flicks his gaze over, eyes dark with both mischief and longing. “I don’t know if you’ve forgotten, Y/N, but you still owe me my birthday present,” he says hick and low, each word like a steady drumbeat against your pulse.

You raise an eyebrow, trying to keep your own voice steady. “Don’t you want to celebrate with everyone? You just won the Lucifers the grit track and Devil’s Corner.”

He lets out a laugh, deep and incredulous. “Celebrate with everyone else? Princess, I’d be out of my mind to spend one more second without seeing what you have for me. I would be fucking insane, actually.” He eyes you hungrily, already imagining all the possibilities under your dress or up your sleeve. His tongue brushes his bottom lip in a glazing swoop, a promise lingering in his gaze that leaves your cheeks feeling warmer than they should.

He shifts gears, and you glance back to see the track and the crowd becoming distant figures in the rearview mirror, your brother among them. “Besides,” Jaeyun adds, leaning closer as he cuts through the night, “Do you really wanna see Yeonjun right now?”

“...No.”

“Good, then trust me.”

_____

The car halts, tyres crunching over gravel as you take in the scene before you. Below the dark sky, the city sprawls out like a tacky but beautiful Christmas night with glittering lights, each window and streetlamp reminiscent of a fairy light. Below, the river carves an almost silver line through it all, shimmering under the moonlight. It’s too beautiful for you to describe and give it the credit it deserves.

Jaeyun doesn’t speak at first. His hand finds yours, fingers slipping through as he releases a slow, steady breath. He wasn’t aware how badly his muscles were suffocating his bones until now. His thumb brushes over your knuckles, an absent yet soothing gesture, and he finally lets himself relax, the hard lines of his jaw softening as he looks at you. The moonlight catches his features, highlighting the relief etched on his face - a look so different from the racer who stared down Devil’s Corner only 20 minutes ago.

For a moment, you both just sit there, silently letting the thrill of the night settle. You turn to him, sensing his guard finally lowered, his eyes holding something warmer, deeper than his usual confident smirk.

“It’s so pretty here,” you murmur softly, nodding towards the city.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, bringing your lips to his hand and kissing your knuckles softly, the tingle from the spark shooting all over your body. “I’d say the view is pretty fucking perfect.”

A blush creeps on your face, his eyes glued onto you as he mumbles the words into your skin, each syllable fluttering to your heart. Of course, he means you. He has seen this exact city view a million times, often coming up here after races to cool off and regather himself. 

It’s the first place he drove to once he heard about Mingi.

It’s the first place he drove to once he met you.

It’s the first time he’s shown someone this spot.

Letting go of your hand, he quickly offers you a small smile before undoing his seatbelt. “C’mon, let's get a closer look.”

With that, you follow him and you both settle against the hood of the car, your shoulders brushing as you take in the sprawling lights below, wrapped in the quiet of the moment. The city glows, pulsing like a heartbeat, life so obvious yet subtle. You tilt your head toward him and nudge him softly.

“So,” you say, half-smiling, “how does it feel?”

“What?” 

“Winning the grit track.”

He shrugs, and his gaze becomes distant, falling somewhere into the night. The silence stretches on, but it’s comfortable, the city’s buzz helping to fill the contemplative silence between words. 

“I don’t care,” he murmurs, surprising you into a pause.

“What do you mean?” you ask, caught off guard. After all, this entire night was about winning the territory, claiming a stake over it and expanding the Lucifers’ ground. It sounds like a shitty action movie on Tubi now that you think about it, but that really is what the crews strive for. So for Jaeyun to say he doesn’t care, when he did what his past leaders couldn’t, throws you for a new one.

“The track…he can keep it,” Jaeyun says with a dismissive wave, almost as if he’s letting go of a heavy burden. “It was never about winning a stupid bit of dirt road.” He pauses, biting his lip as he searches for the right words. “I wanted to prove that TC had something to do in Mingi’s accident.”

The words leave his mouth in a rush, and you feel the weight of his pain and loyalty colliding in that confession. Jaeyun’s gaze stays trained on the city, brow furrowed, his jaw set, the ease on his bones only lasting the skip of a jump rope. 

He truly believes that Yeonjun was involved - that he orchestrated some plan to knock Mingi out. You’ve seen Jaeyun’s loyalty; you know Mingi is more than a friend to him, practically family, and Jaeyun’s heart has no room to consider the idea that Mingi could’ve just…lost control.

You scoot closer, placing a gentle hand on his arm, sensing how vulnerable this confession has left him. “Look, Jaeyun,” you start, hesitating. “I don’t believe my brother would do something like that. But just because you made it through Devil’s Corner safely this time doesn’t rule out anything, yeah? There’s still a chance he had nothing to do with it…but maybe he did.”

He looks at you, contemplation written in the lines around his eyes, but doubt remains.

“I just can’t accept that it was some accident, you know?” he finally says, his voice tight with frustration. “Mingi was solid. The guy could practically drive in his sleep, and suddenly he spins out there?” His shoulders tense as he talks, each word laced with an anger born of grief and unresolved questions. He wants answers, and you sense how deeply he’s embedded in this conviction.

“Okay, so what if…” You hesitate, not truly believing the words coming out of your mouth right now, but knowing Jaeyun needs something to hold onto his faith in Mingi. “What if Yeonjun did have something to do with Mingi’s accident? He could have been planning it tonight but called it off because I was in the car with you?” 

Biting the inside of his cheek, Jaeyun lets out a harsh laugh, but it’s not at you. “Then I could have got you fucking hurt, and what kind of man does that make me?”

It’s as if any reasoning or justification for his actions has suddenly all surged to his mouth and left a bitter taste, one that he finds hard to coat over with some mints. In his mind, he convinced himself for the moment that he was saving you, but in actuality, maybe he was just protecting himself. 

He could have lost you.

That though makes him stand up and walk closer to the cliff edge, not enough to cause you alarm, but enough that indicates he’s in the need of feeling free from his mind.

And that’s something you can definitely help with.

Pushing yourself off the car, you reach out to him, lacing your arms around his waist as you hug him tightly from behind. Instantly, he cups your linked hands in his and melts into you, closing his eyes in relief as you kiss his back ever so gently.

“We can’t know what happened that night, Jaeyun, no one ever will. But it’s also not your battle.”

“But I-”

“No. End of story.” You twist him around to face you, your hands dipping your hands into his back pockets. “Mingi and Yeonjun raced that night, the outcome was what it was, and we have to move on. The longer we sit in the past, in this mindset of what if and what could have been, you prolong everyone’s pain, especially yours. And I won’t sit back and watch you do it.”

It’s tough, and you wish you could have laid it all out a little more prettily, but a dagger of truth won’t sink into skin if it’s covered in padding and fluff. 

Jaeyun’s eyes portray a man trying to will himself to argue with you, that fight for his friend still very much alive. Yet, he knows you’re right. He isn’t helping himself by wallowing in the past, he’s only hurting himself and creating a deeper hole in his chest, one that is consuming him alive.

But no one has told him to get the fuck over it. Not until now.

“I know for a fact that Mingi does not want you dwelling on it, especially not tonight. You won the grit track, I’d say he’ll be over the moon with that, wouldn’t you?”

The last nudge is enough to make Jaeyun nod, a small smile creeping on his face. “Yeah. I saw him before the race and all he asked was ‘don’t fucking die and get us that track’.”

“See? You achieved both of those requests, I would say that’s worth celebrating,” you grin widely up at him, relieved to see his jaw loosen and shoulders unravel themselves. “It’s also your birthday…which is another reason to celebrate.”

Jaeyun checks his watch and sucks in a breath, his playful demeanour slowly coming back to the surface, much to your delight. “It’s actually past my birthday now.”

Widening your eyes, you drag his wrist to your face, reading the clock's arms as they disappointingly read 12:04am. The sadness is plastered all over your face, your eyes looking glassy due to both regret and the cold wind nipping them. 

Jaeyun immediately notices your solemn expression and pouts, holding back a laugh. “Princess, it’s okay.”

“It’s not. I didn’t even get to give you your presents.” You are never one for being late with gifts, in fact, you take birthdays so seriously that gifts are often in your friend’s hands early in the morning. Every birthday is precious to you, well, maybe not your own, but you love to make others feel appreciated and seen on the one day that is reserved for them. 

The racer looks at his watch again and reaches for the dial, twisting it back as the small arrow rounds anti-clockwise to the 11. Happily, he flashes the watch’s face in front of yours. “Look, now it’s 11:05pm. You have 55 minutes left.”

A laugh bursts out of you, the heartache over the small inconvenience now lifted by his antics. He always knows what to do, what to say, how to lift you up so easily, it’s his superpower. 

“Okay, which one do you want first?” you step back and place your hand on your hips, exhaling the drama from tonight out of your system. No more racing, no more brother, no more bad thoughts. Just you and Jaeyun celebrating the final hour of his birthday.

“There’s more than one?” he asks in a smug tone. 

“There are three in total. One is your main present and two are tiny little things,” you explain.

Nodding, Jaeyun feigns ponder as he taps his chin. “Well, I think I should save my main for last, so let’s start with the ‘tiny little things’” he repeats back to you, knowing that they won’t in fact be tiny, their significance probably vastly bigger than any other gift he has ever received throughout his previous 21 birthdays.

Holding up a finger, you tell him to wait before you open the right backseat door of his car and retrieve two carefully wrapped gifts. You put in far too much effort in folding each corner perfectly and twirling every bow to sit neatly, but looking at your work now, you can safely say it was all worth it.

Confusion crosses Jaeyun’s pretty face as he points to his car. “When did you sneak into my car and put them in there?” he asks with piqued confusion. He would notice bright yellow wrapping paper with orange ribbons in a minute, the colours bouncing so brightly off his black interior.

“I didn’t,” you shrug as you confess, holding out the two gifts. “I shoved them both under my seat when you paid for the gas yesterday.”

“Your seat, huh?” he repeats with a lace of amusement, taking the top box from your grasp.

“Well, do you drive other women about?”

“Don’t ask fucking ridiculous questions. You’re the only girl.” 

You curse your stomach for flipping out like it’s on an Alton Towers ride, the statement probably meaning nothing significant from his lips. He always says pass away comments like that, and each one you desperately try not to read into too much, your heart having a hard time already with calling this relationship between you both casual, never mind your brain popping up with conspiratorial thoughts that he could see you as something more than his non-girlfriend.

Gently, his hands peel the wrapping paper off, and reveal the first gift. 

“Lollipops?” he laughs out, though joy shines from his features. 

“Well I saw you were running low, and it is my fault you need to stock up on them, so…” you explain sheepishly, your foot carving out nonsense lines in the gravel.

Since you started hooking up, Jaeyun quit smoking. You hate the taste of the cigarette on his tongue and the smell of it in his car, and he caught onto that instantly. The way you would spray your perfume ‘randomly’ after he flicked the butt out his window, or how you offered him a chewing gum coincidently a few minutes before you climbed into his lap and licked into his mouth. 

It didn’t take a genius to figure it out. 

So he stopped. Cold turkey without a second thought. He still had the itch though, muscle memory constantly bringing something to his lips for a drag. That’s when you gave him a strawberry Chupa Chups and he never looked back. His dentist hates you for it, but his doctor couldn’t be more delighted. 

Taking a cola lollipop from the assorted selection, he unwraps it and places it into his mouth, humming as the beautiful taste hits his tastebuds. His tongue swirls the ball of goodness and he instantly smiles at your reaction, deciding to play on it.

You curse him, his smirk widening as he rolls his eyes and opens his mouth just wide enough for you to watch the cola lolly get coated in his saliva, his tongue enveloping it the exact same way he does with your clit when he’s buried face first between your thighs.

Squeezing your legs together in order to stop the flow of arousal from dripping down your leg, you thrust the other present into his chest, retrieving the box of lollipops from him in the process. The further these things are from his mouth right now, the better.

“Okay, now this one,” you urge, clearing your throat and hating the way he pushes the sweet to the side of his mouth, the stick pocking out the corner of his mouth like a toothpick. Somehow, it only made him hotter, like Heath Ledger in 10 Things I Hate About You.

God, now you’re even more horny.

Jaeyun nods and flips the gift over, inspecting what it could possibly be. But he’s never been good at guessing, so he quickly tears the paper off, a little more forcefully than the lollipops. A black box adds another layer of suspense and curiosity. “Did you get me a diamond necklace?” he jokes, but once he peels open the lid, nothing is funny anymore.

His eyes flicker between you and the gift. “Y/N…”

“It’s not much, I know. But I thought it was fun,” you explain, scared that it’s not enough.

Picking it from the box, Jaeyun inspects it carefully. To most, it’s just a keyring, but to him, it’s the most thoughtful gift he has ever been given. The mini replica of his precious car, clearly hand-decorated by you stands out - the red decals and perfectly selected interior act as a mirror to the real thing; even the license plate has his famous J4K3YUN etched into it. The black Honda Civic replica sits so tiny yet powerful in his hands. 

It was the first car he could afford. Everyone laughed at him - even Mingi - when he turned up to his first race. It’s a shitty little car with not much horsepower, but considering he was only seventeen when he started racing, he could hardly afford to put his student loan into a BMW or Aston Martin. Instead, he modified it, just enough to put his name out there.

His baby has never let him down since. All those times everyone has pestered him to trade her in have never crossed his mind. Even you know how much she means to him. Why else would you have given him an oversized keyring of it?

You know him, and that squeezes Jaeyun’s throat, stopping him from expressing thanks.

“If you pop open the boot, it has something inside,” you point out, excited. He’s made modifications to the real thing, but you got crafty with the mini-me.

“Can anything even fit in this?” he laughs but nonetheless, opens the boot - and it is not what he was expecting. 

The interior has been prettily painted pastel pink, with glitter and gems perfectly placed inside, crowding the minuscule space. The first initials of your names are enveloped in a shakily drawn heart. It’s pretty and so very, very you.

Jaeyun’s eyes sparkle in the moonlight and you interpret it as pure adoration, injecting some pride into your chest. He likes it - thank fuck.

“I thought it was fun, since y’know, on the outside you’re all tough and metal but inside you’re just a sparkly pink princess.” You place the lollipop box on the hood and step closer, inspecting your work once more - as if you haven’t been scrutinizing every detail of it over the past month. 

Throwing his head back in a laugh, he blinks away the joy in his tear ducts and nods, sighing out in defeat. “I’m not so sure ‘princess’ is the word I’d use-” he starts, only for you to interrupt.

“Oh, you are,” you insist, taking the lollipop from his mouth and placing it in your own, “You’re the prettiest princess to ever exist, actually.”

“I think that title is reserved for you, baby,” he grins fondly, eyes raking over every feature of your face as you savour the taste of the cola sweet. “Thank you…so much, Y/N, no one has ever gotten me something so thoughtful. I really love-...it. A lot.” His throat tightens, words tangling up in his chest, but thankfully, you don’t seem to notice

Nodding, you give him a soft kiss, careful not to poke him with the lollipop stick, before taking the gift back, carefully placing it and the lollipops in the car for safekeeping. “Now, do you want your big present?” You wiggle your brows and shut the car door, almost skipping back to your spot in front of him.

Jaeyun was so caught up with everything tonight that he forgot that this was the reason he whisked you away as soon as the race ended, at least, it was the shallow reason. The deeper reason is something he won’t speak out into the night air.

Placing his hands on your hips, glides his hands up and down your sides, the warmth from his palms blissfully welcome. You love this dress, the way you feel in it, how it makes you look, but it isn’t exactly good for fighting the nipping cold away, especially considering the wind is much thinner up on the cliff.

“My big present…” he repeats, bringing his face down to yours, his hot breath creating a rose tint along your cheeks. “I think I want that more than anything right now.” His confession is raw and more than surface-level lust. He has so many emotions running through his body right now, and he knows that your present is going to be exactly what he needs.

“You need to unwrap it then.” The smirk on your face is contagious and your voice is low. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out what your gift is, but he’s in for a treat nonetheless.

Jaeyun does pause for a moment, his hands fiddling with your zipper at the back but hesitant. “I think my gift might freeze to death if I unwrap it here, don’t you think?” 

You hadn’t…thought about that actually. To be honest, when it comes to Jaeyun’s cock, that’s probably the only thing you think about. Rain or shine, snow or fog; if his dick is close to being inside of you, you’ll face any weather.

His fingers pinch the zipper and tug it down slowly, the winter air biting up your spine, but the shivers that are rippling through your body aren’t from freezing; the opposite in fact. The ghost of his fingertip creates a heated surge through your body, your skin igniting with pure desire. 

Pushing the dress off your shoulders, your tits are laid bare in front of him, nipples hard and much more delicous than any lollipop Jaeyun could ever suck. They’re perfect, so perfect that he has a hard time putting his love for them into words.

“No bra?” he asks cheekily, that cocky boy everyone loves swimming to the surface of the night. 

Shaking your head, you close your eyes as he cups them delicately. “Dress didn’t look right with it.”

“Is that the only reason?” Jaeyun’s thumbs flick over your hardened buds as he backs you up to the hood, you ass perched against the edge, a welcomed seat considering your legs could turn to jelly at any moment.

Truth be told, it was the main reason you didn’t wear a bra, with the tightness of the dress, it didn’t allow much more room for any extra padding. But you can’t lie and say that you also didn;t adorn one because it would save time.

“I’ll take your silence as confirmation, will I?” he murmurs, his lips grazing the hollow of your throat before travelling down, sending waves of warmth through you with each kiss.

You feel the cool press of the hood beneath you as he lifts you up to perch you, his mouth finally closing around one of your nipples now you’re at the perfect height, his tongue tracing lazy, agonising circles that make your breath catch. He shifts to the other, his gaze flicking up to meet yours as he bites gently, eyes smouldering with a dark intensity that only makes you want him more. 

With each flick of his tongue, your mind fogs over, the chill of the night air long forgotten. His mouth leaves a trail of wet, open-mouthed kisses as he works his way down, fingers slipping under the fabric gathered at your hips, thumbs tracing soothing lines along your waist.

“Are these new?” he hikes your dress up so only your waist is covered and your new panties are on full display for him. It’s incredible how he noticed initially through touch alone, his mind cataloguing each thong, brief, and lacey panty you own. 

“Yeah, got them a few days ago.” You don’t need to tell him that you bought them specifically for his birthday, he will know just by the Ivory colour alone.

A playful smirk curves on his lips as he takes in the sight of your new lingerie, his fingers grazing over the delicate lace with a possessive tenderness. “I thought so,” he murmurs, voice low and almost reverent as his thumb hooks under the fabric, dragging it down with aching slowness, leaving your cunt exposed, yet you feel anything but vulnerable.

There is a thrill of anticipation that crackles between you as his hands linger, his thumb tracing a line along your thigh. You’re so consumed with how close he is to your heat that you almost miss his other hand coming up to remove the cola lolly from your mouth. 

“Open up,” he instructs, which you blindly follow, releasing the delicious treat from your mouth. “Good girl. Now, spread open for me.”

“Jaeyu-”

“It’s my birthday, Princess. I still have,” he checks his rewound watch, “36 minutes left, so until then, you gotta do what I say, yeah?” 

That sounds perfect to you if you weren’t aware of how much of a tease he is. He’s going to torture you on the hood of his car, you know it, but you relent anyway, giving him a sharp nod and breathing out slowly.

Your legs spread wide, your feet finding stability on his bumper. The compromising position could mean anything, your mind flashing with all the possibilities of what he could do to you.

And by fuck, does he have a sweet, sweet plan.

A glint of mischief flickers in his gaze as he tilts the lollipop, the cola sweet glistening in the moonlight as he brings it down to hover just above your entrance. The sticky sweetness clings to the night air, and you feel your body tense with anticipation, each nerve heightened by the thrill of surrendering control.

He runs the candy along your inner thigh first, slow and deliberate, leaving a faint, sugary trail that he follows with his mouth. The coolness of the lollipop contrasts sharply with the warmth of his breath, sending shivers skittering up your spine as his lips and tongue trace after, claiming every inch of sweetness he’s left on your skin.

Finally, he presses the lollipop between your folds, teasingly dragging it up and down without quite giving you what you need, his eyes fixed on your reactions, devouring every tremor, every bite of your lip and jerk of your hips as the lollipop circles your clit. The sensation is maddening, the blend of sticky from the sweet and your own juices only heightens the ache building within you, and he seems to revel in the slow, torturous rhythm he’s set. He wants to take his time.

The lolly ghosts your entrance before he presses it ever so slightly inside, your breath hitching at the unexpected sensation. His mouth follows close behind, claiming you with a slow, deliberate kiss that has your toes curling against the bumper, his tongue tracing the sweetness lingering on your skin.

A wave of heat radiates through you as Jaeyun continues his maddeningly slow pace, the lollipop pressed just at your entrance, teasing and coaxing you in a way that has your pulse racing, much like how it was when you were near death on Devil’s Corner. 

He dips the lollipop in a little further, the rounded edge pressing in just enough to make you gasp and claw at his car bonnet, and then he draws it back out, running it up and over your clit with agonising patience. The pressure of the sweet gliding over your most sensitive spot has you squirming, but his hands are firm on your thighs, keeping you right where he wants you.

“Hold still,” he murmurs, a wicked smile curving on his lips as he swirls the lollipop slowly, tracing lazy circles that leave you breathless. The candy, now coated in your own slick, sends shockwaves through you, and you feel yourself clenching, trying to draw him deeper, desperate for more. Jaeyun seems to notice, and he chuckles softly, his warm breath tickling against your inner thigh.

With one last, lingering drag of the candy over your clit, he brings it to his mouth, sucking in the mix of flavours. Your sweetness mixing on his tastebuds with the cola makes his eyes roll and contemplate opening up a business just for him that sells pussy flavoured lollies. Specifically, your pussy, of course.

“You’re fucking delicious, Princess,” he moans out, sucking the pop with fervour. You’re so jealous and you curse ever buying him them. But not really, the scene of his tongue lapping it up eagerly, mixed with the saliva that's glistening on his lips only adds a series of precious memories that you can happily store in your wank bank.

Threading your fingers through his hair, you tug at it just rough enough for him to growl. “Please, I’m trying to cum for you before your birthday ends.”

“Yeah?” he huffs out a laugh and tosses the almost obsolete lolly away, the stick hidden by the gravel that swallows it. “I can make that happen.”

“Good-”

“If you beg.”

You freeze, resisting the urge to tell him to go fuck himself. If there is one thing you hate most in the world, it’s begging for a man. You can submit to Jaeyun, sure, that’s easy enough. But there’s something so humiliating about having to plead for your own pleasure. He never makes you beg, usually too fucking impatient himself to play that game, so this is not exactly in your forte.

“I’m not begging. No way.” You cross your arms and shake your head adamantly. 

Jaeyun’s smirk widens as he sees your defiance, his gaze darkening with something that borders on both amusement and challenge. “Really now?” he murmurs as his thumb traces slow circles on your inner thigh, inching achingly close but not quite where you want him. “You’re gonna stand by that?”

His eyes roam over you, taking in the way your body reacts despite your stubbornness, and you can feel the tension building in the air as he leans in, his lips hovering just above your core, close enough for you to feel the heat of his breath. The anticipation sends shivers racing over your skin, but you keep your arms crossed, refusing to relent. 

“I know you hate it. You’re so powerful, baby. I adore that about you,” he continues in a low murmur, voice laced with a teasing edge, “But just once, for me?” He pouts, bottom lip overtaking his entire face and somehow making him look even more irresistible.

That fucking pout.

With a small laugh, he shifts down, pressing soft and tongue-focused kisses along your thighs, each one closer than the last. His breath is warm, and you can feel the control slipping from you with every careful movement.

“Fine,” you say finally, voice barely more than a whisper, “Please, eat me out.” 

“Come on, Princess. If you’re going to beg, I want to hear you properly.”

“Jaeyun,” you whine, already flushing up with embarrassment.

“How about,” his mouth places one feather-light kiss on your clit, a gasp of pleasure drawing from your lips, “I beg you to beg me? Then we’re both on the same boat.” 

Now, while you don’t like to beg, you love to hear Jaeyun beg. There have been countless times when you’re on your knees, much like he is now, and your mouth is a hairline away from his tip, and he’s thrashing under you, moaning out pleas and needs in a higher pitch, wanting nothing more than you to consume his painfully hard cock in his mouth.

Jaeyun doesn’t have humility when he is with you, he’ll scratch and claw at the bedsheets, whine out your name in desperation, and have you take full control if you want to. You wish you could be more like that, because fuck does it look beautiful, and you know he will love it if you’re a crying, pleading mess under him. 

It would be the perfect birthday gift, actually.

So with a heavy sigh, you close your eyes and clear your throat. “Okay. But only if you go first.”

Jaeyun smirks and rubs some heat back into your legs. With soft, kitten-like licks, he plays between your folds, giving you an inch of what's to come. “Princess, please beg for me. I’ve been such a good birthday boy, have I not? I need to hear you want me, the same way I need you. This pretty pussy deserves to be devoured, and I can only do that if you beg for it. Please, baby. Pretty please with a lollipop on top.”

God, he is so fucking good at it. Somehow he still sounds so strong and assured even when you can hear the cracks in his voice and the tremble on his lips. His hips buck the air, mimicking what he wants to do with you, his cock leading him, thinking with his second head.

Whimpering, you look down to see him adorning that pretty pout once again, and you crumble.

“I nod. Jaeyun…please make my cum on your tongue, let me give you the best birthday gift. I want you to lap me up and never stop, make you remember this birthday for the rest of your life. Please, baby.”

You don’t cringe, instead letting your desperation take charge, which gladly works. Jaeyun groans loudly at your filthy words as they echo over the cliff, giving the city indication of what’s taking place. His cock is so painfully hard against his jeans that he wonders if it has the ability to tear through the material like Hulk when he transforms. It certainly feels like it could.

“Good girl,” he praises, before giving you what you crave.

Connecting his mouth to your core, his skilled tongue has you keening, head falling back against the car hood as he licks a broad, firm stroke from your entrance to your clit. His lips close around you, his tongue flicking and swirling as he loses himself in the taste of you, his hands spreading your thighs even wider to hold you firmly in place.

He slurps and devours you, humming into your hole in pure lust. Jaeyun loves nothing more than being buried in pussy, he could spend the rest of his life between thighs, your thighs. The added tints of cola still lingering on your skin only heighten his arousal, the sweet tang mixture enough for him to dig his nails into your thighs and bury further in.

Arching your back, your thighs fight his grip as they try and clamp around his head, the way his tongue dips into your hole, rimming it with teasing strokes before shooting back in makes your head dizzy, the November air suddenly feeling like a July breeze - welcomed and just right.

“Fuck,” you hiss out as he bites at your folds, dragging the sensitive flesh between his teeth, another way of tormenting you yet giving you everything you could want. His bottom teeth drag up to your clit with his puffy bottom lip trailing behind it like a soothing balm. 

You’re starting to wonder whether it’s his birthday or yours.

With precision, Jaeyun latches onto your clit and suddenly, you’re seeing more stars in the sky, body lurching forward as you trap him there. The tension coils tightly in your stomach, and he takes his time, alternating between sucking and licking, bringing you right to the edge and pulling back just before you can tip over, savouring every second of your mounting need.

“Jaeyun, please…” you gasp, fingers threading through his hair, and he hums against you, sending a shudder through your entire body. 

“See? You can beg so easily,” he mocks playfully, smirking as your thighs act as earmuffs. Despite the barricade, he can still hear every plea and mewl that falls from your lips, indicating that you’re close.

So, he picks up the pace, his hands gripping under your ass to push you further into his face. His round nose nuzzles your nub as his tongue swirls around inside your cunt, the tip of his tongue committing every bump and nook to memory - not like he hasn’t already. He knows everything about you, that’s what happens when you spend seven months doting on and worshipping the same person.

Grabbing tightly onto his hair, you feel the knot in your stomach begin to pull apart, the threads of rope straining as your climax tugs. “I’m cumming…fuck, Jaeyun,” you warn, but it’s not breaking news to the man causing the euphoria. He’s licking, sucking, and biting with ferocity because he knows you’re falling apart

He hums against you, the sound vibrating through your body, his tongue flicking over you with such skill it has you trembling. “Come on, Princess. Let go for me,” he whispers, his words like a command, and your body is happy to obey.

And then, it hits you - the release crashing through you, sending shudders of pleasure through every nerve in your body. You can’t stop it, your back arching as you clutch at his hair, your thighs trembling as the wave washes over you, and Jaeyun doesn’t stop. He keeps going, worshipping you like he’s addicted to your taste, drawing out every last drop of your orgasm.

Your chest heaves and your body goes limp as he cleans your pussy, making sure he takes every drop of his birthday gift. You taste heavenly, your cum swirling in his mouth as he slurps and sucks, the shocks jolting up your spine each time he nudges over your clit.

Once your legs release his head, he glances up at you through his thick lashes, mouth covered in your essence. “Thank you, baby,” he praises, his chest filled with a cocktail of emotions, the first as foremost one being adoration. “With 10 minutes to spare too,” he laughs, glancing at his watch.

Jaeyun stands up, kissing you with passion. He transfers your juices onto your mouth and you groan at the taste. All those days of downing pineapple and cranberry juice always pay off. His tongue licks yours, taking over your entire mouth as he claims you. His lips are sweet but his touch is anything but, you know he’s desperate, if his actions weren’t enough, the painful bulge that’s bucking into your sensitive folds is enough to tell you.

Swiftly, your hands move to his buckle, undoing it amongst the breathtaking kisses. It doesn’t take you more than a minute to undo his jeans and push them just low enough that his ass is on full display and his hard shaft can spring free. His cock is so pretty, like a work of art; six inches of pure joy. You’ve lost count of how many times this cock has made you come undone, the curve of it hitting perfectly into your cunt, like it was made for you. In some ways, you think it is.

Spreading your legs once again, you wrap your hand around his cock, the heat from it a stark contrast to your still cold hands. The sensation elicits a hiss from the birthday boy, his lips pulling from yours as he looks down. Your hand just fits around his length, and that makes his tip twitch. He’s proud of his size, but somehow he loves it even more when in the clasp of your fingers.

You press it against your wet core and he loses any sense of control he had left.

With a primal growl, he grabs your hips and lines up at your entrance, not even bothering to tease you. Between your outfit, the rush of the race, your cries of pleasure from his tongue work, and the overwhelming tightness in his heart, he needs to be inside you. Now.

Jaeyun slides in fully with one thrust, both of you creating a beautiful harmony of moans that echo like a choir in the night. His cock fills you up to the brim, his balls sitting comfortably against your ass. You feel like fucking heaven, in fact, if he was to die right now, he would do so happily. Those pearl gates could only mirror the happiness and alleviation that he feels as he buried himself to the hilt inside your warm hole.

His forehead rests on your shoulder, his lips peppering a succession of kisses just above your collarbone as he begins to move his hips, eyes rolling to the back of his head with each bump of your walls hugging him.

“Jesus fucking christ, Princess,” he mumbles, officially lost in the act of pleasure. He’s not thinking about anything else, just how your wet heat feels enveloping him.

You can’t say your thoughts aren’t also only consumed by the tip of his cock poking your cervix so deliciously, his balls slapping against you almost mimicking a spank each time. His thrusts pick up pace and you both lose yourselves in one another, chanting praises and curses to convey your feelings.

Jaeyun’s hands roam over your body as his cock pounds into you, switching from holding your hips in place to kneading your breasts, each one serving their own purpose. He wants you still so he can keep hitting that perfect spot over and over again, the squishy spec in your cunt his main target, but your tits bouncing in the moonlight keep distracting him, his cock losing power as his brain gets clouded in the movements.

“You’re so beautiful, Princess,” he confesses, kissing the valley between your breasts. “So, so beautiful.”

Your heart hammers harder, the pulse resounding in your ear as you smile gratefully. “So are you, Jaeyun.” And you mean it. He’s the most beautiful person inside and out, you’re never going to meet anyone like him again, and that’s what terrifies you.

Jaeyun locks his eyes on yours, his hips finding a new determined rhythm. He presses his forehead against yours, nuzzling his nose with yours in a kiss. How is it possible to feel so adored and cherished by a man you have no label with? That’s the question running through your mind as you stare into his soul, begging for him to answer.

And in some way, he does. His pupils shine with nothing but your reflection, showing just how deeply you're ingrained in him. Though neither of you may voice exactly what this is, you both know it.

As you lose yourselves in each other, that familiar coil tightens low in your belly, heat pooling with a desperate need for release. You dig your nails into Jaeyun's shoulders and bury your face in his neck, signalling you're close.

Gripping your waist, he matches your rhythm, pushing you both to the edge—metaphorically this time, thankfully. He's already brought you close enough to danger tonight; there’s no need to test fate again.

"Come on, baby. Cum for me," he urges, jaw clenched as he holds back his own release. He’s never been one to finish before his girl.

With his coaxing and the delicious sensation of him deep inside, you reach your climax once more, this time more intense than you expected. You bite down on his neck to muffle your moans, and like a domino, he spills into you. 

His white ropes soothe your cunt, painting your walls with his adoration of you. The best decision you ever made was getting an IUD. You know it’s not full protection, but for the feeling of his seed filling you up like a cream piping bag, you’re willing to take the risk.

Jaeyun holds you close, his breath mingling with yours as both of you come down from the high, eyes blazing secret confessions into one another. The steady thud of his heart under your palm feels grounding, almost comforting in the quiet aftermath. You shift slightly, feeling his warmth begin to fade in the cool night air, yet he doesn’t let you go just yet, keeping you wrapped up in him.

“Happy birthday,” you whisper softly, letting your lips brush against his jaw, a faint smile tugging at your mouth. 

Mirroring your expression, he melts into your pepper kisses as you trail down his neck, paying extra attention to the skin you marked up with your canines. His large hands glide up your back and hold you close to him. “Thank you.” It’s simple, but he’s biting his tongue, the moment too perfect to destroy with his post-nut brain.

You sense his apprehension and lean back, gazing into his eyes and studying the specs of his brain that you can make out. “You okay? You’re usually cracking out a joke by now,” you ask playfully, but there’s an undercurrent of concern in your tone.

Jaeyun bites his lips together, preparing himself to possibly make the biggest mistake of his life. He pulls out of you, jerking his cock clean enough that he can get away with it, before tucking it back into his trousers. 

Oh no.

Your mind does everything to convince you that this isn’t going to end the way you think it will. The efforts to soothe your racing mind falter just at the finish line. This is it. He’s going to hit you with the ‘this has been fun but it’s not what I want anymore’ or ‘hey, so this was great but you’re not what i’m looking for’. Whatever concoction of those sentences he wants to spin, you know it’s going to hurt. You’re in too deep.

And you would much rather be humiliated with your clothes on. So you jump off the hood of the car, your slick glistening in the night lights like a snail trail. Suddenly, the acts you just took part in have turned from euphoric to sickly.

“Listen-”

“I meant it,” he interrupts, not even letting you end this before he can. “I really mean it when I say you’re the only girl for me.”

You’re waiting on the but, yet it never comes. Instead, he’s biting his lip nervously, looking at you but not into your eyes, his focus on your forehead like a sniper in the woods. And you feel like you’ve been shot, just not in the hurtful way you were expecting, it’s almost like you’re on the receiving end of a blank and the shock is ringing in your ears more than anything.

You stand dumbfounded, zipping up your dress at the back. “Huh?” It’s stupid and not what you want to ask, but your flabber has been gasted.

Jaeyun groans and rubs over his face. “I don’t want anyone else. And I know you’re annoyingly loyal to Yeonjun, but I can’t pretend that this isn’t more than what it is.” He steps forward and cups your flushed face, the cold now settling upon it once again. “I. Love. You. I have for fucking months, and…I don’t know, I can’t keep pretending I don’t.”

I. Love. You.

It’s such a simple and common phrase, yet hearing it in his accent, from his mouth, directed at you, you find it foreign. 

Jaeyun hates the silence that follows, the horns from the cars down below act like a mocking laugh to the moment. He knows its risky, confessing his feelings so bluntly, but if he had to keep them in any longer then he might have buried them forever and harboured an even deeper resentment towards himself and your brother.

“You’re stuck between a rock and a hard place, I get that. But can we call a spade a spade and admit that we love each other?” He insists, now finding his confidence. Go big or go home, he supposes. He’s convinced you love him too, you look at him the way he does you, and even if it’s only a tiny speckle of love that you hold for him, he needs you to admit it. For his sanity, and yours.

You can’t process a single thought beyond his words, their weight pressing down on you, making it impossible to breathe for a second. The world falls quiet around you, the buzzing city and distant hum of traffic fading as your mind hones in on his face, the intensity of his gaze, the subtle quiver of his lip as he waits.

“Jaeyun,” you manage, though it barely comes out above a whisper, “This isn’t…this isn’t exactly what we agreed on.” Stupid. Why the fuck are you saying that NOW.

“I know, but I also know you feel it too.” His thumb moves tenderly across your cheek, brushing over the spot where a tear might fall if you let it. “And if there’s even the slightest chance that you feel what I feel, I just need to know.” He pauses, his voice softening as he meets your gaze fully. “Because you’re it for me. I’m tired of pretending I don’t want to be with you completely. You deserve to be loved, and although I might not deserve to be the one to give you that, I want to try.”

You want to look away, to retreat and give yourself a chance to think, but his eyes are pleading with you to stay present, to face this. And the truth is, in some corner of your heart that you've tried to ignore, you know what he's saying is true.

But Yeonjun…If he finds out, he’ll never forgive you. It’s one thing to be in a fun fling with his rival, it’s another to be completely and utterly head over heels for the boy.

The silence is thick, but there’s an odd comfort in it. You reach up, covering his hand with yours, grounding yourself in his warmth. “I don’t want to lose you,” you murmur, voice trembling. “And I…I don’t know how we’d make it work without hurting Yeonjun.”

Jaeyun’s grip tightens, his confidence anchoring you. “I’ll make it work. I’ll do everything to make sure he accepts it. I’ll step down as the Lucifer’s leader, I’ll get on my knees and beg, baby I will do whatever it takes to get him on our side. I don’t want to come between you both, I know how precious he is to you, and you to him,” he pauses, breathing out and collecting his thoughts before he goes on a desperate faffing rant, his point losing focus. “I love you, and that means loving every part of you.”

“In the car…” you begin, voice unsure, “You said something about how Yeonjun would become your family, you meant-”

“Yeah, listen. Don’t freak out about that. I was jumping the gun with that one…but I mean, is it so unplausible? For us to be together? To imagine a future with you?”

“There’s a big difference between jumping into dating and leaping into marriage, Jaeyun.”

“Okay? So we’ll hold back on the leaping for now,” he laughs, pressing his forehead to yours, “but tell me you’ll jump.”

His breath mingles with yours, warm and steadying, grounding you in a way that makes your hesitation falter. "Jaeyun," you begin, your voice so soft it barely carries the weight of what you’re feeling. "It’s terrifying to even think about, you know that, right? Yeonjun is…he's been there my whole life, my protector, my brother…you’re asking me to risk that.”

"I know." He cups your face, his thumb tracing slow, tender circles along your cheek, calming and reassuring. "And I wouldn't ask you if I didn’t believe with every part of me that we’re worth it. But I’m not going anywhere until you’re ready; whether that’s now, or tomorrow, or a hundred years from now. I’m in this, Y/N. All the way. I just need you to say yes."

Your lips part, the words catching in your throat, suspended between the comfort of safety and the thrill of the unknown. Slowly, you reach out and lace your fingers through his, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. "Alright," you say, a tremor of nerves mingling with the glint of determination in your eyes. "I’ll jump…but you’d better catch me, Jaeyun."

A grin breaks across his face, and for a moment, everything else fades away; the rivalry, the fear, even Yeonjun. It’s just you and him, exactly how it should have been from the beginning.

"Always," he whispers, voice filled with quiet conviction. Then he closes the distance between you, sealing your promise with a kiss that’s soft, lingering, and brimming with all the words neither of you dared to speak out loud.

But maybe it’s time you do

“I love you too, Jaeyun,” you confess, eyes boring into his heart.

His eyes widen for a split second, and you see the disbelief flicker across his face, not quite sure he heard you right. But then his gaze softens, and a smile breaks across his face, one so genuine and unguarded that it sends warmth flooding through you. His hand tightens around yours, squeezing his happiness into your veins and bones.

"You don’t know how long I’ve waited to hear you say that," he murmurs, brushing his thumb over your knuckles with a tenderness that leaves your heart aching. “I fucking love you. I love you, I love you, I love you.” He chants, kissing all over your face, causing you to scrunch up and laugh, attempting to push him away but failing - not that you’re going to complain about that.

There’s a sense of relief, a lightness you haven’t felt in so long, as if all the weight of secrecy and uncertainty has lifted. For once, you’re not worrying about the consequences, about what could go wrong or who might get hurt. Right now, it’s just you and him, and the truth laid bare between you.

“Yes, okay, we love each other! Enough!” you giggle between his million and one kisses.

His hand comes up to cradle your cheek, his fingers grazing your skin with reverence. “I’m never letting you go now, you realise that, don’t you?”

You nod, a smile creeping across your face, and pull him in for another kiss, this one filled with the promise of everything that lies ahead. “Oh I know. Just wait till I tell your crew,” you laugh, pushing him away. “‘Oh, Y/N, I love you sooooo much. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me-'”

Your imitation is cut short, his hand flying over your mouth as he suppresses a laugh, trying to portray fear that isn’t truly there. “C’mon! You can’t ruin my reputation like that,” he whines, giving you that signature pout. 

“Oh but I will-” Without warning, he picks you up, tossing you over his shoulder as he carried you to the backseat. “Jaeyun! Put me down!”

“I’m going to fuck every word and thought out of that pretty brain of yours so you never utter my soft side to a soul,” he playfully jabs, opening the backseat and tossing you inside.

“Well…I have a lot of thoughts…and words,” you reply, biting your lip as you settle across the seats, legs already accommodating for him.

“Then it’s gonna be a long night. I suppose I’ll need to turn my clock back some more, don’t you think?”

____

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@ikeuverse @dollyyun

[catscidr]

// taking care of your dogboy (hsr edition!) //

i. note — sry i havent been posting yall i got a job + ive been working on three cosplays at the same time bc my local con is coming up lmao (´ཀ`」 ∠) however the brainrot never stops. it only takes a break. a little break of approximatively. a month. ish. ......... anyways dog hybrid hsr boys brainrot !!! lmk if we want more of this with more boys •ᴗ• comments and asks are appreciated hehe ii. includes — blade, gepard, boothill and gn!reader iii. cw — slice of life stuff turning into smut, possessive behaviour, overstim, slight dom/sub dynamics, real messy stuff, manhandling. use of the word "hole" to keep reader gender neutral iv. wc — 1,9k

blade is a mutt riddled in scars and dirty bandages from living on the streets and fighting to survive.

you think he might be some german shepherd mix, but he refuses to let you swab his teeth n gums for a dna test (last time you tried you narrowly avoided a punch to the face. he apologized in his own way afterwards), so whenever people ask, just say he’s a rescue to avoid revealing that you actually just… don’t really know what breed he is. they usually drop the subject and simply go on their merry way, seeing as he wasn’t the type of pup to appreciate affection from strangers anyways– it’s rare for you to leave the house in the first place, though.

you had to switch to a remote job because blade is just so persistent when it comes to you. although possessive is a much better descriptor, because he doesn’t let anyone near you. whenever you leave to get groceries he ends up practically breathing down your neck from how close he gets— acting as if he were your literal shadow— glaring at everyone that gets too close to you. you’ve made it a habit to always go to self-checkout lane so blade doesn’t scare off the cashiers.

the second you get home he’s all over you, determined to rid you of that outside stench and replace it with his own. you started packing your grocery bags in a way that nothing will break if (read: when) you suddenly drop them on the floor, all because you’re so familiar with blade’s impatience.

he holds you still by engulfing your body with his, knees caging your hips as he grinds into you, shallow and deep. blade’s growls and huffs fill your ears just as much as his cock fills your hole, his knot kissing your tightness from the outside.

“do you like this? like how i have to fuck you every time you decide to go outside again when you could stay here,” with me blade omits, his tail swishing back and forth on the bedsheets behind him, the sound just barely grounding you to reality.

your grocery bags were long forgotten on the foor (as they usually are), your mind too foggy to function. clawing at the sheets, you try to crawl away from blade’s grip— to no avail.

he tuts, craning his head to bite down onto the skin where your shoulder meets your neck. “i might just need to mark you for extra precaution,” he bucks into you, knocking the air out of your lungs. you hear squelching, the constant plap! plap! plap! from his thighs smacking against your ass and whine, broken babbles leaving your kiss-bruised lips.

“b-blade, y’can’t- ah,” he shushes you by plugging you full of his lengthy cock, his knot almost threatening to press inside of you. you whimper, feeling lightheaded from a mix of both nervousness and arousal.

he soothes the hickey he left on your neck, licking it languidly as he stills to bask into the way your hole throbs around him. warm and tight and oh so tempting.

“shit, wanna fill you. wanna… have everyone know they can’t have you. you’re mine, mine to love ‘n mine to fuck,” you’re not lucid enough to process his thinly veiled confession, too busy writhing your ass back against him in a feeble attempt to get him to continue moving.

you might want to invest into some good concealer or into those skin coloured tattoo patches to cover the bruises and bite marks blade’ll leave on you if you want to continue being a functioning member of society. you can’t really be walking around in public as if a dog had just mauled you right before you left the house, can you?

gepard is a golden retriever because of COURSE he is. similarly to blade, he likes to invade your personal space a lot— not because he’s possessive, but because he’s extremely protective of you.

the random bruises you used to randomly notice on your body faded as soon as he came into your life. gepard’s soft, lingering touches healed them; gently placing a hand on your hip before you bump into sharp furniture so it doesn’t hit you, redirecting your head to his shoulder as you nod-off in the train before you bang your head, and so on.

it’s a full-time job and he’s working 24/7, always on the lookout for anything that could possibly hurt you as you saunter off… wherever, without a care in the world— because he took care of everything!

he would clean the apartment for you, cook (though you usually insist you do the cooking; a human doesn’t have the same taste in food as a hybrid), and even act as your own personal alarm clock. gone were the days of being woken up by loud, blaring beeping. gepard woke you up with forehead kisses instead, making your mornings much more pleasant.

but poor geppie, he’s always taking care of you; so take care of him, won’t you?

every so often you’ll sit in his lap to help him get rid of whatever stress he held in his body. your hands will knead at the muscles in his broad shoulders, all while you simultaneously kiss away the strain in his face. his brows are furrowed as you do your best to soothe his muscles; you never forget to smooch his cheek, nose and the corner of his lips.

though the attention and gentle acts of affection always ends with your hands lower than they should be.

“ah ah, no touching, remember?” you murmur in his ear playfully. you had been at it for what felt like hours; gepard’s cock and abdomen was smeared with the remnants of his cum, skin tacky from his previous loads. your hand shows no sign of stopping, not even when he begged oh so sweetly.

“c-come onn. just… jus’ wanna kiss…” and who were you to deny your sweet boy? your lips find his in a heartbeat, his tongue swiping over your own sloppily as he breathes you in like a depraved man.

the only condition you had when you did this was for him to keep his hands to himself— at least until you both decide to move on to something else. until then, his fists clench the sheets beneath the both of you, and his ears stay flat on his fluffy head.

“i’m… i’m close again, g- aah, please, please…!” he begs, cock weeping precum as you continuously jerk him off. you smile, absentmindedly rocking your hips to the rhythm you held him prisoner to— gepard was too engulfed in the warmth of your hand to notice, anyways. “cum whenever you want sweet boy,” you purr, and he keens as he buries his face in your neck, his hips lifting off the bed ever so slightly as they meet your hand and he thrusts, riding the high of his orgasm.

sticky cum coats your hand for the nth time; you relent your grip on his cock for his sake, instead choosing to shower him with chaste kisses all over his face. gepard whines, taking ahold of your waist weakly as he breathes into the crook of your neck.

“geppie, your han-“ he cuts you off, swiftly switching positions so you’re now laying on your back as he hovers over you, chest rising and falling quickly, catching his breath from the intensity of his orgasm. gepard’s tail wags slowly behind him as his hands creep up from your waist to your chest just as slowly- you feel his cock harden against your pelvis, precum spilling from his pinky tip.

“‘ts my turn now,” he huffs, leaning down to nip at your neck.

boothill is the most obnoxious dalmatian hybrid you’ve ever seen (not that you’ve seen many, or at all). but he’s made your life so fun so you can’t be too mad at him

he’s always dragging you out of bed to go do something— could be going to the park nearby or sit in the living room playing video games on your dusty console, it doesn’t matter because he’ll MAKE you step out of your cozy nest!!

you’re glad he’s friendly, because you’re not sure how you would handle such an excited hybrid when you left the house. people come up to the both of you to chat and he indulges their questions, essentially leading the conversation (while you stand there awkwardly, not knowing what to say).

boothill is also great with kids, unexpectedly. 9 times out of 10 when you go to the park he ends up playing with someone’s child, bright smile on his face as he messes up their hair with a rough hand. they’ll throw a frisbee for him to go catch and he’ll do it happily, or he’ll even… teach them how to beat people up.

(you stare mortified as he teaches a little girl how to throw a proper punch only for her to then punch her parent when she leaves boothill’s side. you go up to them and apologize profusely, forcing boothill to bow with you.)

he also loves to help you out, even though he’s not the greatest at household chores— but he definitely tries! though he is a stellar cook, which never fails to surprise you whenever he’s on dinner duty. he just… really sucks at everything else.

it’s… mostly because he just has so much energy. he sweeps the floor? nope, he’s picking off the pieces of the broom off of the floor because he accidentally broke it. he’s fixing your bed? nuh uh, you’re throwing out the ruined bedsheets because he accidentally tore them to shreds somehow.

so, with all of these accidents happening because he’s just brimming with energy 24/7, you started purposely exhausting him. or, rather, gave him the green light to exhaust you until he tires himself out.

“booth-aah, w-wait, you’re being too…!” you fall over on top of his hard chest, keening at the new angle his cock reached inside of you. he repeated his assault on the spot that made you see stars as your jaw gaped, broken moans leaving your lips.

“don’t tell me y’re tapping out.. haa, already!” boothill grunts, his grip on your hips tightening. he throws his head back with a loud moan, abs tensing as he nears yet another climax— the 5th one of the night. maybe, maybe not. you lost count after the third one.

you bury your face into the crook of his neck, focusing on the feeling of his cock plugging you full instead of the soreness, the burn in your muscles that came from your knees holding you up on his lap.

watching you riding him will always be his favourite thing in the world, even if he always ends up fucking up into you and taking back control at the end of the night.

“gonna cu-uum…” you whine, clenching around his length almost painfully tightly, hearing his breathing hitch as an orgasm is ripped out of him in consequence to yours. boothill’s fingers dig into your ass, his hips lifting off the bed as he cums deep inside of your sloppy hole again, sticky fluid building up beneath the sheets.

you collapse on top of him fully, chest heaving against his own as you come back to your senses, slowly but surely. boothill’s ears perk up, hearing how your breathing had evening out.

“so… got another round in ya?”

[sleepymarimo]

𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭, 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐫.

summary: law might hate bread, might hate sweets, but if eating them is the only way to show you how much he cares, then so be it. pairing: law x fem!reader cw: none! fluff, awkward law. some descriptions of food and textures if you're sensitive to that! wc: ~3.5k (wow!!)

an: this is for my amazing friend @guilty-sugar ! i recall you saying that you were good at baking, but sad that law probably wouldn't eat any. so, we're gonna make him >:)

i have not posted in soooo long so pls forgive me 🥲 i hope you all enjoy law and making him suffer by eating bread!!

the air is getting warm again, he can feel it. it grows so stuffy that he shrugs off his top layer, leaving him in that buttoned shirt he couldn't stop wearing after the one time you told him it looked good.

his eyes scan the medical papers in front of him, but his mind is annoyingly slow today.

law does a grand job of pretending that he doesn't know your schedule, doesn't know the tell tale signs that point to only one conclusion. the air grows hotter, the crew buzzes with poorly repressed excitement and the sound of clinking metal bowls echoes throughout the entire submarine.

it's baking day.

he's been preparing for this. he's finally going to face his biggest enemy yet, a foe that seemed much more intimidating than any warlord or emperor of the sea.

today, granted the ocean didn't swallow him whole, law was going to try some of the baked goods that you were known for making, including the bread.

the thought alone makes his skin crawl, but it pales in comparison to how small he feels in your presence. it irritates him, especially since your intentions have been nothing short of well meaning.

that's what he thinks, anyway.

law runs his tattooed fingers through the black strands of his hair, deciding to forget about whatever paper he's reading about in a bid to feel a semblance of control. he's overthinking, looking too much into things.

do you really smile at him more than everyone else? do you ask about his coin collection because you actually care or are you being polite?

within the upper quadrants of the polar tang, he can just barely hear the others hound you with questions about what you'll be making. no matter what it was, it was sure to be gone in a snap.

a dull thump shakes the sub, but he doesn't think much of it.

bepo, he thinks, probably slipped trying to gather ingredients for you. his suspicion is confirmed when the laughs of penguin and shachi follow shortly after, but the sound doesn't begin to compare to the one that flows out of your lips.

he represses a groan, his way of ignoring how his heartbeat momentarily diverts from it's usual rhythm.

his knuckles grip the sides of his chair, using it as leverage to push himself into a standing position before grabbing his hat and making his way to the kitchen. the air is almost uncomfortably warm now, but he can't find it in himself to be upset with you.

the submarine had been navigating the undersea currents for a while now. a visit to the surface was just about due.

it's not like he planned it like that. no, of course not!

he didn't even think about how the crew would be eager to hop off the vessel, didn't think about how you'd stay behind to bake while he took on the task of keeping you company.

he steps into the kitchen with curiosity, though his expression gives nothing away. it's that same almost neutral face, his brows slightly furrowed and lips teetering on a frown.

bepo is sitting on the floor of the kitchen, the flour dusting his form barely noticeable against his plush white fur. the bear is half-apologetic and half-embarrassed, the former directed toward you while the latter stemmed from the laughter going his way.

"sorry." he grumbles again, thought it looks like you couldn’t care less. bepo seems to have enough of his crew mates, tackling the other two men and making sure to get them covered with flour.

their complaints mesh with your amused laughs, a soundtrack that the polar tang's captain knows well.

law is blind to the scene before him, everything becoming out of focus as he spots you mixing some ingredients into a bowl. you're laughing, nose crinkling and mouth stretching into a grin that almost makes his stoic expression crumble.

the corner of his lips waver, just a little bit, your joy infectious in a way that makes him believe it's an actual disease.

however, he has work to do and baked goods to stomach.

"and what are you all up to?" he asks, arms crossing as he forces his gaze away from you.

it's almost comical how the four of you straighten up, abandoning whatever you're doing to raise a hand to your foreheads in a mock solute. the "hello captain!" that echoes across the room is practically in perfect sync, or at least enough to make him shake his head.

he sighs, telling you guys to quit it. "that doesn't answer my question."

penguin brings a hand down on bepo's back, a cloud of flour puffing into the air as he does so. "sweets day, cap!"

you affirm penguin's statement, tilting your head with a smile as you give a rundown of what's on the menu for today. some cupcakes, a few cookies and a loaf of sourdough.

just the mention of the bread is enough to make him tense.

bepo laxly nods in agreement with you, his black nose twitching as he catches the scent of vanilla extract. his head is in the clouds, not so much on his captain, so he decides to join you at the counter to mix some ingredients together in a bowl.

at the doorway, law gives penguin and shachi a deadpan look.

shachi chimes in with a grin, nodding his head in your direction. his words are meant to be sly, directed toward the captain, but he's unable to hide his amusement. "sweets day with the sweetest member of the crew, don't you think cap-"

"shut up." law interjects, brows pinching together as he takes in the poorly concealed smugness written all over shachi's face. it's on penguin's too now, while bepo has long since abandoned the conversation to help you instead.

it's only because they've known law for so long that the duo know how much he likes you. no amount of scolding or scoffs can make them think otherwise.

the captain can tell by their smiles that they think they have the upper hand, but he ignores them. law speaks before they have a chance to open their mouths again.

"get the sub ready to surface." he orders, cocking his head in the direction of the control room. "we're stopping at the next island."

that seems to get their attention, their heads perking up at the thought of getting out of the cramped submarine. the duo give law their best salute, scrambling away to make preparations for the sub's surfacing.

law shakes his head and lets out a sigh, taking some strong steps toward you and bepo. your dynamic with the bear is one that melts his heart more than he'd ever admit. the way you can shift from witty and bright to determined and caring makes him want to explore every side of you.

he snaps out of his thoughts when you lightly reprimand bepo for stirring the batter too aggressively, a chuckle threatening to leave him.

an announcement is made throughout the sub to prepare the crew for what's to come.

reluctantly, law makes his leave. he'll have time, he'll have you, but he has to take a couple minutes to brace himself for what will happen once the rest of the crew leaves the submarine.

another half hour passes before the sub's hatch is opened.

the fresh air is much needed, the cool breeze like a balm that quells the unease in law's chest. a series of footsteps echo throughout the submarine as crew members make their way to the exit, smiles plastered on their faces.

this island seems lively, welcoming. the sun casts a bright glow over the town in the distance, a plethora of shops and eateries nestled side by side.

even though law is staying aboard, staying with you, there's a sense of proudness that rushes through him as he takes note of the relief plastered onto the faces of his crew. he doesn't let it show, but clearly their happiness affects him.

he lets them run loose, trusting them enough not to cause too much trouble.

his eyes do narrow at penguin and shachi though, the two men snickering a tad as they walk off with bepo in tow. it's like they see through his plot, his ulterior motive, and the captain gives them a look that serves as a warning.

as the blurb of orange jumpsuits fades out of view, law is left with the sound of crashing waves and a light breeze.

his grip tightens on kikoku's hilt, a gesture that he hopes makes what he's about to do a little more easy.

the scent of baked goods wafts out the door, overpowering the salty sea breeze without issue. he can hear you humming along to some random tune, talking to yourself as you navigate through the kitchen.

he follows the trail like a ship to a lighthouse, drawn in by the warmth and splash of color you add to his life.

upon walking into the kitchen, he takes note of how your back is turned to him. you're washing some dishes, the spoils of your work organized neatly on the counter. just the sight of all the sweets is enough to make his stomach ache, but he persists.

you call out to him first, catching him in those all too common moments when he gets lost in his head. "captain? i thought you were gonna head out with the others."

turning off the sink, you dry your hands off with a towel and focus your attention on him. he doesn't miss the slight tilting of your head, how your eyes glimmer with curiosity.

oh, he was horrible at this. no matter how many times he practiced the script in his head, you found a way to unintentionally mess with his psyche. maybe it was your hair, your eyes, everything.

"needed to finish some work here." he lies, so smooth with his words that you don't even think to question it.

with a nod, you give him that smile, the one that pops up in his head while he's reading and makes him lose focus. "if you finish up, maybe you can meet the others in town. or you can keep me company here."

he takes your words in with a hum of acknowledgement, watching you navigate through the kitchen with a natural ease. for a second, he allows the comfortable silence to stretch. he summons all of his courage, swallowing his pride and nodding toward the delicacies on the table.

"can i…" his jaw tenses, the temperature in the room feeling as though it's rising with every tick of the clock. he squeezes the hilt of his weapon more firmly, his throat feeling dry as he looks between your confused face and the frosted treats.

he gets it together, not asking, but declaring. "i want to try what you made."

your brows rise at his words. it's not like your captain to try your baked goods. you'd never taken offense to his reluctance, as you were well aware of his eating habits, but this is completely out of left field.

one could hear a pin drop, his request lingering in the air.

"you… want to try them?" you echo back, unable to hide your skepticism. your eyes browse the array of treats, including the loaf of bread that was still cooling on its rack. "are you sure? which one?"

law doesn't mean to sound so snappy with his response, but internally he's freaking out. your doubt, the subtle concern in your voice, makes him want to prove himself even more.

"i'm sure." he insists, taking some steps toward you until he's at your side. his eyes scan the table, each morsel seeming to laugh in the face of his uncertainty. "i want to try each one."

your eyes follow his, the table sporting a variety of treats ranging from cookies to cupcakes to the star of the show, your fresh sourdough bread. in your head you prepare for disaster, creating a scene that's as comical as it is mildly concerning.

"if you lost a bet to penguin and shachi…" you start, giving him an apologetic glance.

he's quick to cut your accusation short. there are no bets, no pressure from anyone but himself. "no."

when he looks back at you, expectantly, as if he doesn't know how to approach this hurdle, you grab a plate and start to load it up. there was no way you were going to give him a full serving of anything, so you chop off a piece of each dessert and make what you think is a perfect sampler.

he takes the plate from you with a degree of reluctance, but the brushing of your fingers against his acts as a reminder as to why he's doing this. words aren't his specialty. hell, it's hard for him to show how much he cares in general, but he can do this. for you.

his tattooed fingers pick up a piece of… something. it looks sweet, like something he'd hand off to bepo. those black brows of his furrow a tad, as if he's trying to break down the pastry to an atomic level.

taking note of how he seems to be losing himself in his own thoughts, you speak up with confidence and snatch the remaining portion for yourself. "it's just a chocolate chip cookie." you explain, taking a bite of it yourself to show him how it's done. "flour, sugar, eggs…"

"understood." law sighs, trying and failing to act even remotely excited about what was to come.

his teeth sink into the cookie, only a small quarter piece, and he has to keep from making too much of a reaction. from the chocolate clinging to his tongue to the sweetness practically making his gums ache, he finds each chew to be a struggle.

but when his eyes lift to meet yours, seeing the look of anticipation on your face, he finds that the cookie isn't so hard to swallow.

his tongue peeks out to catch any remaining crumbs, shuddering as the sugary sweet taste lingers in his mouth.

he takes a step toward you, a small one, nodding his head and hoping you can't see the hints of pink starting to form on his cheeks. "it's good." he states, even though from your angle it had looked like he was trying to swallow glass. "what's the next one?"

it seems like eons have passed, perhaps the longest ten minutes law has ever lived through.

he swears his stomach is starting to hurt from the amount of sugar settling in there, and the smile you give him, the appreciation you show, doesn't make it feel any better. your presence makes him more jittery than any dessert, that much was certain.

while you were hesitant at first, not wanting him to strain himself, you can't deny that your sweets-averse captain willingly trying your concoctions was flattering, meaningful.

"okay, last one." you clap your hands together, glancing at the last piece of food on his sampling plate. it's a small chunk, not even worthy of being served as an appetizer, but to law, it might as well have been a death sentence. "the sourdough bread."

hearing the word alone makes law's jaw clench, his eyes narrowing as if he had a personal vendetta against the bread. even when he's picking it up, he can't help but scrutinize it.

"yeah, last one." he echoes back, his eyes finding yours in a sort of stubborn inquiry for support.

understanding what he needs, as usual, you grab a piece of the bread for yourself and hold it up. the nod you give him, allowing him to dictate the pace, seems to give him the confidence he needs to conquer this molehill he's made a mountain of.

after a playful countdown from you, he chucks the bread into his mouth and forces his teeth to bite down on it.

the first taste of it almost has him freezing up, his chest rising and falling slowly in an attempt to not let his nose wrinkle. the texture of the bread is killing him, the roughness of it seeming to scrape against his tongue in a way he's not particularly fond of.

hearing you hum in content, clearly pleased with the taste of your own creation, is almost like a slap to his pride- in a good way. he chews a bit more, it's almost damn painful, but he does it.

finally, when the last few chunks of bread are swallowed, law feels like he can breathe a sigh of relief.

"well, that's everything, captain." you smile, taking the plate from him and lightly placing into the sink. you're aware that this wasn't exactly easy for him, yet you're happy that he tried them. "what do you think? good enough for the crew?"

the answer should be obvious, as your treats were usually devoured within only a couple days of being made. law was confident that you could place ice in a bowl and the crew would eat it up without question.

"it's… good. everything was good." he replies, eyes following your every move. his heart feels a little more heavy in his chest, the lump in his throat harder to swallow than the goods he'd just tried. "the crew is lucky to have you."

i'm lucky to have you.

he inwardly curses himself for being so inexperienced with these matters and he places his hat on a nearby counter so he could run a hand through his hair. law is so caught up with his own inner turmoil that he doesn't notice how you grow a little bashful, how the laugh you give is more nervous than playful.

"thanks, captain." comes your response, the sound of clinking drawers filling the air as you started to properly store some of the goods for later. "that's sweet of you to say."

he hums, his way of telling you that he hears you. at the moment, he doesn't quite trust himself with speaking, his brows furrowing ever so slightly.

there is a comfortable silence for a few minutes, but it's not entirely suffocating. it's comfortable, almost welcoming. there are few people law was content to simply exist with, and you were one of them.

his mouth opens, your head tilting toward him as he states the obvious. "i hate bread."

it seems like a no brainer, your arms crossing while you change your position to face him better. "yeah, i know. what about it?"

law looks at you like he was looking at the desserts earlier. intense, almost scrutinizing, as if he would rather peer into your brain instead of hold a conversation.

"i hate bread." he repeats, the tension in his frame melting away a tad. "but i like it more when it's yours."

you're not sure how to respond to his admission, your jaw tense in a bid to keep it from falling to the floor. your captain is red faced, trying oh so hard not to just blurt out what he's been thinking for the past few months. it would be easy to get it out with a scoff, acting like it's not a big deal, but he knows you deserve better.

"everything has been better since… since you joined." the confession is heavy, the implication clear. this was no simple talk between a captain and their crew member.

while his cheeks get hotter, his brows furrow, his gaze doesn't waver from yours. he's watching for every reaction, anything that he can pick up on to confirm or deny his hopes, hopes which he rarely grants himself to believe to be possible.

your smile is a balm, the relieved laugh you give making him release a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

"i can never tell what's going on in your head." your shoulders rise and fall with each chuckle, your chest buzzing at his words, at what can, will, come from this. "you didn't have to try all the food. especially the bread. you know that, right?"

his lips tug upward into a small smirk, his confidence growing upon seeing how you're reacting to him. it's enough to make him take a few steps forward until he's right before you.

"thought it would be a good way to show you that i mean what i'm saying." he answers, the taste and feel of the treats now long forgotten. "besides, i see how disappointed you get when i don't try them."

the way your eyes avert, the small tilt in your head, only highlights your guilt. "yeah, okay, maybe a little, but i wasn't gonna force you to eat bread. and all those sweets…"

"i'll have to get used to it." his shoulders shrug, his expression going back into that more nonchalant one that you're used to seeing on him.

the words have your brows furrowing in confusion. "what do you mean? are you going to start joining us for baking day?"

"no. i'm not eating bread ever again, so consider yourself lucky for being the only one to see it happen." he casually states, silently reveling in how you react, before he allows his smirk to grow a little more wide. "i just have a feeling that you're sweeter, and i'm not planning on giving you up any time soon."

[luvyeni]

HOT MESS ,, 이제노

pairings ‎⸝⸝⸝ collegecrush!jeno x reader wc. 2.4k

genre. smut

🦢◞  includes ... oral ( fem receiving ), unprotected sex, praise kink , this is kinda angsty.

request. can u write a "campus crush" fic based on jeno's look at the airport please 🙏🩷

「 authors note 𖹭 」 ngl i didn't expect it to be so angsty but reader literally is me and my brain.

❪ masterlist! ❫

your brain was always on go; constantly it was like it never stopped, even when you would sleep it was like your brain wouldn't turn off— it was never ending, and becoming a college student; living on your own made it worse.

running into your class; the professors back was turned around so you snuck in , sitting down. “you're late again.” yoo jimin, your best friend; the complete opposite of you; she was constantly put together, it was like she had everything together. “i stayed up last night to study.” you whispered, huffing out pulling out your ipad, hair all over the place. “how did it go?” you stared at her stoically. “how do you think?” you said. “point taken.” she said.

“maybe you have like adhd or something.” karina walked next to you; watching you go through your messy planner. “because this can't be normal.” she said. “im sure the doctor has something to cure whatever this was.” you shrugged. “with my luck i would probably be too busy and forget to take it.” she laughed. “probably, you're just a hot mess and that's okay, i still love you anyway.” she wrapped her arms around you, calming you. “messy hair and disheveled clothes that i'm pretty sure you had on yesterday and all.”

jeno on the the hand; he seemed to have his life together— he never came to school looking crazy; even after a night out in which he was black out drunk with his group of friends, he'd turn up the next day, showered, shaven and ready to go on with his date. “it almost scary why aren't you hungover.”

haechan groaned, his head down low. “you out drunk me yesterday; jaemin left you in your dorm unable to pick yourself off the floor.” jeno smugly shrugged, his hair black hair was neatly styled, his outfit that he picked that morning neat on his body.. “i feel fine, maybe you should lay off the alcohol.” the boy would've lunged at the boy if he didn't feel like his head was gonna explode. “haechan look you and yn both look like you had a good time last night.”

jeno turned hearing your name, a small smile on his lips, one no one couldn't unless they were looking really close. “fuck off jaemin.” you huffed sitting down. “except yn looks like that all the time.” haechan said, yelling as you began bang on the metal table. “how's that headache? huh you asshole.” jeno held his hand out , stopping you. “you'll hurt yourself.”

he moved his hand away from you; that didn't really help your rapidly beating heart. along with the stress of school and your everyday life; jeno lee was another thing that raced throughout your already cluttered mind; he sometimes was the only thing that could calm your messy mind— not like he noticed or anything.

“she’ll hurt herself— she hurt me!” haechan cried out. “my head.” holding his head in his hands. “jimin hold me.” you all watched karina fight the whining boy off, you laughter making jeno smile slightly, only stopping when jaemin caught him; wiggling his eyebrows at the boy, jaemin was the only one who knew about his crush on the girl.

“you should ask her out.” jaemin said one day out of the blue. “yn, you should ask her out.” jeno was shocked; he thought he did a good job hiding his infatuation with you. “haechan isn't all the way there and renjun could care less, so of course they don't notice, but bro i'm your best friend , and i can tell , and you don't really hide , you literally write the notes down so she can study.” ever since that day, jaemin never let him live it down.

“yn you have a class soon.” jeno turned to you as you looked down at your phone. “oh yeah i better go.” you shot up. “my professor is gonna kill me if im late again.” you collected your things. “jeno don't you have this class too?” renjun asked, he nodded; calmly getting up, saying goodbye to everyone, before walking away; but walking slowly so you'd be able to catch up to him.

you both made it to the class, you found your seat in the back; jeno took a seat in the front like always, occasionally looking back to check on you— he felt bad, watching you stress out all the time, you could never seem to get anything right in your eyes; but in his eyes you were perfect.

“yn.” your professor stopped you as you were leaving out the door. “yes?” you stopped. “your research paper.” she started. “is there something wrong with it?” you sighed, she didn't have to say anything, but you knew. “listen what if i give you an extra day or two, go over it; read my notes and try again.” she said, you nodded. “thank you ma'am.” you turned walking out of the class, where jeno was waiting. “oh jeno you're still here?”

while waiting for you, jeno overheard your conversation with the professor. “yeah, everything okay?” you nodded. “just need to go home and get my head together so i can get this essay right this time.” he walked silently next to you, before he spoke up. “i can help you.” he said. “go over the essay with you.”

“y-you don't have to, it's all word vomit i don't want to put you through that.” he waved you off. “i don't mind it.” you were about to reject him again when he grabbed your arm, stopping you. “let me help you.” your eyes widened at the sudden touch. “sorry.” he said, removing his hand. “it-its okay.” you said, heart racing. “i can come over to your apartment and go over it with you.” he said. “and it won't be a problem?” he shook your head. “you'll never be a problem, okay?” you nodded. “o-okay.”

“come on let's go.”

it had been so long since you had anyone over besides karina and she was used to your madness; but it had been even longer since you had a cute guy over, and you weren't really planning on having one over— otherwise you would have cleaned your room. “it's a little messy.”

“it's okay, it's just clothes.” he smiled watching you frantically pick up the clothes, shoving them in your closet. “sit.” you pointed to your bed. “please, make yourself comfortable.” you said. “um …” you turned to jeno, your face losing all color— he was holding your bra in his hand. “did you forget something?”

you practically lunged at the boy to grab the item, throwing it into your closet. “let's get started.” you said; he smiled watching you go through your bag to pull out your laptop. “here.” you opened it, pulling up the essay. he took the laptop from your hands, your fingertips touching. “let's see, it can't be that bad.”

it was bad; but jeno didn't let you know that— well he tried. “um, okay.” he said, you frowned. “it's bad isn't it?” he sighed, reading through the essay, looking at you; your eyes were desperate. “i can help you fix it.” he said, you sighed. “it's useless.” taking away the laptop. “if only i can get my brain to stop just for a second , my essays won't be so shit.”

you hated this; your brain wouldn't stop, it was overwhelming. “hey.” jeno called your name, you bit at your nails in stress. “hey.” he stopped you, holding your hands down. “calm down , i told you i'll help you wouldn't i?” he said. “i’ve seen worse essays trust me, jaemin will plagiarize if i let him.” he laughed. “i can help you fix this, but you have to calm down first.” your eyes traveled to where your hands met. “you're so cute but you're a hot mess.”

“me-me? cute.” he chuckled; but you were freaking out inside and out, he shook his head, pushing his glasses up his nose bridge. “let's finish this okay?” you nodded. “o-okay.”

after going over the mess of a essay; reading the notes the teacher gave you and jeno talking you through it; you finally put together an essay that was at least readable and would satisfy your professor. “thank you so much jeno, you saved my life.” you smiled. “it was all you, you'll do good if you just turn that pretty little head off and learn to breathe.”

“that's easy for you to say, your life is so put together.” you said. “i can barely get out of bed on time, it's like you said im a hot mess.”

“you don't want to hear my problems.” you said. “the essay is done and you probably have things to do, you can … mph” before you could get the rest out; jenos lips were on yours in feverish kiss, pulling away to give you enough air before his lips were on yours again.

he pulled away again, ready to kiss you again, but you held his chest signaling him to stop immediately. “did i make you uncomfortable?” he said. “no-no.” you said flustered. “just, it happened so fast, and now my head and my heart is racing.” you were rambling on and on and it made jeno want to kiss you again, you were so cute. “then just turn that pretty head off and let me help you.” he looked at you with so much want in his eyes. “okay?”

you nodded, he held the side of your face, pulling you into another kiss; his lips swiping across your bottom lip, sticking his tongue in your mouth , his grip on your waist, lifting your shirt. “lifting your arms for me pretty.” he took your shirt off , throwing it to the floor. “he-hey just because i use my floor as a hamper doesn't mean you do.”

he laughed, “i'll be sure to fold your clothes neatly the next time i fuck you.” he pulled your pants down, leaving you in your mismatched bra and panties. “baby you really are a hot mess aren't you.” he kissed your stomach once he laid you on your back. “i like that.” he reached for your waistband, pulling them down your leg. “keep them open pretty baby.” he kissed the sides of your thighs. “such a pretty little pussy.”

you felt the warmth of his lips as he kissed your cunt. “j-jeno.” it had been a while since you've felt anything like this, and lord was jeno good at what he was doing , licking your folds , his nose brushing up against your clit, for the first time in a very long time; there was only one thing on your mind— it was jeno.

“fuck jeno!” you moaned, gripping his dark locks. “im… im gonna cum.” you whined feeling him removing his lips for your clit , one of his fingers invading your hole. “you gonna cum for me?” you nodded, he groaned , his cock hard; he was ready to fuck you. “y-yes.” you gasped. “pl-please let me cum.”

“shit.” he cursed, adding another finger, curling them inside you. “so tight baby, go ahead and let go for me, make a mess all over my fingers for me.” you gasped out his name , moaning as you came. “good fucking girl.” he fingered you through your orgasm, until you were holding his wrist , grinding against it. “je-jeno.” he no longer looked put together; his hair messy, clothes disheveled— even his brain was running a mile a minute, he finally knew what it was always like in your head. “you look so pretty when you are cumming.”

ridding himself of his clothes; folding your legs in half, giving him a view of your cunt. “pretty little pussy, want me to stuff my fat cock inside?” slotting his cock in between your folds; moving his hips, the tip of his cock catching your clit , both of you moaning. “pl-please fuck me.” you begged. “shh , baby i got you.”

positioning his leaky tip at your entrance, slipping inside. “fuck.” he sighed, your cunt sucking him in. “so tight.” he gasped as he fully bottomed out. “je-jeno you're so big.” you moaned out; his hand coming up to your throat. “yeah, you like my cock stretching your tiny pussy?” he hissed as you tightened around him, your eyes crossed as he plowed into you. “did i fuck you're pretty head empty?” he questioned, a moan following. “had so much fuck so much going on inside it , now it's nothing but my cock.”

he tightened his grip around your throat; speeding up his thrust. “de-deeper jeno, fuck!” the desperation in your voice , you needed to feel him; the deeper he went , the tighter his hand wrapped around your throat— the less you thought about anything, all your troubles floated away. “je-jeno im gonna cum.”

“yeah?” he speed up, cursing as he chased his orgasm. “hold it just a little baby, fuck , wanna cum with you.” his forehead was pressed against his. “i-i can't , jeno im gonna cum.” you gasped , your fingernails digging into his arms. “ugh , fuck!” he cursed , rubbing your clit. “fuck i'm gonna cum , cum for me pretty baby.”

he made direct eye contact with you as you came , cunt gripping him like a vice. “shit!” he pulled out , roughly stroking his cock as he came, his warm seed splashing on your stomach. “fuck fuck fuck.” he squeezed his base , milking himself, groaning. “shit.”

“you want another?” he toyed with your clit. “your little clit is still desperate for my attention.” you moaned , his finger filling you up. “je-jeno.” your glazed over eyes. “your pretty little mind is floating somewhere else isn't it?” he chuckled. “fucked you too dumb?” you gasped , moving your hips, grinding against his hand. “go ahead, cum for me again, pretty.”

you felt like you were floating; mind empty as you came down from second high. “come back to me, pretty girl.” he coached you back down , a smile on his face. “good girl.” he removed his fingers from your cunt. “you did so good for me.”

“something on your mind?” jeno asked as he watched you pick at your nail beds for five minutes. “there's always something on my mind.” you laughed , about to bite your nails , he grabbed your hand, holding your hand down , rubbing your knuckles. “not when you're occupied.” he smirked , you slapped his naked chest. “it's not that.” you said. “it's you.” he tilted his head. “what do you mean?” you shrugged. “you can tell me.” he said, you sighed.

“when you're around you help me not think, you calm me.” you confessed. “so what you're saying you're a hot mess without me?” you pouted. “why are you making fun of me?” you whined , he laughed , wrapping his arms around your body. “thats fine with me.” he kissed your forehead. “you're a hot mess.”

“but you're my hot mess.”

©LUVYENI

[dwaekkicidal]

free use with a frustrated minho <3

wc» 1k

cw» fem!reader, free use, rough sex, slightly mean dom min?, some dirty talk, p in v, multiple creampies, oral (both f and m receiving), 1 mention of shower sex, 1 mention of somno

an» take this minho hard thought that i forgot to post earlier this week as a double post bc the chan.in x reader is fucking 2k words and im still not done yet lol... ><

“This literally never happens. Why did this have to happen?? I practiced this dance for fucking HOURS.” You surprisingly miss your boyfriend's indecipherable mumbles and continue to watch your TV.

Minho walked through the front door less than 5 minutes ago and is still sporting his stage outfit and makeup. He plays the part of some sort of lunatic all too well when he’s pacing back and forth and mumbling incoherent curses to himself. And you already tried asking him what was wrong- all you got in return was ignored as he slammed his keys on the kitchen counter and began this weird manic spell.

But all of this is in the past now. You eventually came to learn that he slipped up on stage today; you learned that all that fuss was because he kept making minor blunders during the recording of their MNET performance. And although it was a recorded thing, something videoed multiple times anyways and not seen live, and he wasn’t the center during these mistakes, he was still pissed.

Minho does not make mistakes very often, so he was upset that he even made one today. But the fact that he managed multiple across the many hours they spent in that god-awful building made his blood boil. But! Luckily for him, he has this very convenient agreement with his beautiful, lovely girlfriend who just so happens to be you.

And this agreement is exactly how he stopped dead in his tracks as he came to this “revelation” an hour after he had arrived at home. It’s also how the oversized shirt of his you were wearing got lifted up to your chest. He didn’t even blink towards the food you were cooking on the stove before he shoved your panties down your legs and slid himself along your already wet folds.

“Dirty girl. Wet when I’ve not even touched you.” He landed a playful smack to your ass and gave you no time to react before he slid into your walls, stretching you out almost painfully. You were thankful that you fingered yourself just before he got home, so the stretch was more tolerable than it would have been if he went in dry.

Minho ignored your pleas of “The food!! It’s gonna burn!” and “Give me one second, babe!” Instead, he wrapped one of those veiny hands around your throat and squeezed as he started moving his hips. He started off nicely, giving you slow, deep strokes. But he quickly found a different pace, one more to his liking.

And that pace included fucking your brains out, pounding you into the cold kitchen counter. If it wasn’t for the refreshing cold of the ceramic, you think your cheek would get some sort of “rug” burn. Well… you can’t really think anything, not when his hips slam into yours so intensely that you can feel your ass stinging from each thrust.

Although he holds you in place, one hand on your head and the other on your hip, he still gives you more than enough chances to actually stop him if it’s what you want. It comes out in the form of dirty talk as he goes on about how good of a hole you’re being for him and how he should “freely use” you more often.

It’s more of a hint to the recent kink you’ve been discussing, but it doesn’t go over your head, so you nod as best as you can. And, even though he’s pissed off and needs to fuck you into every surfance he sees, he’s not mean enough to leave you high and dry. So he lets you cum right as he does.

You’re barely catching your breath after the fact before he’s pulling out and admiring your messy form; your cheek still firmly against the kitchen counter even though his hand is gone. He manages to pull out and watch his cum leak from you before another revelation hits him. One that encourages him to help you step out of your panties before pocketing them and shoving himself back into his shorts.

One that also encourages his next comments along with the pat on the ass he gives you after the words have sunk into your mushy brain. “You don’t need these anymore. Keep cooking, I’ll be back.”

But don’t worry your pretty little head about it!! He won’t be gone for very long. In fact, you’re in the middle of setting the table with dinner when his hands return to your body, folding you in half and grabbing a handful of your hair as he immediately slides himself back into your walls.

The only “reward” you get is his groans of happiness as he fucks your brains out again, making sure not to leave out the comments here and there about how, “You’re such a good fucktoy. Letting me fuck you whenever and wherever I want.”

And he’s not done there, oh nooo. He’s still fuming about those slip ups from earlier. Now, at this point can he remember exactly what mistakes he made? No. Will that stop him from using you as his personal stress reliever? Absolutely not. So you should expect to be fucked into every and any surface.

So when he disappears to clean up after dinner and you’re returned to your TV for entertainment, he’s gonna walk up nonverbal and drop to his knees. Then, your legs will be lifted from the floor and he’s gonna shove his head between your bare legs, eating you out and even fighting back when you push his head away from you in overstimulation.

Oh and when you’re showering later that night and you let your guard down for a split second to wash yourself off, he’s slipping into the shower and forcing you down to your knees. He’ll get his fill from using your mouth, his favorite fleshlight, and walk out completely soaked like nothing happened.

You may or may not be overstimulated and sensitive to touch by the time you’re laying in bed, and you’ll be lucky if that stops him from taking you one final time. You’re also lucky if he’s mad enough to let it sink into the next day. If he is, he’ll go as far as to repeat positions/situations from the previous day.

Oh but don’t be mistaken! All of that isn’t happening until after he’s waking you up with a nice, warm, homemade filling.

[hoshigray]

i fucking love ur writing sm mamas!

anyway. Toji making reader pregnant cause toji found out that reader loves kids <33333

It’s fine if you don’t want to. Anyway love you and your writing darling . 🎐

No, noonie, stop bc like, are you in my brain or smthn!!?? I was thinking about this exact prompt for a long while, and I see this appear in my inbox??! Well, well, *cracks knuckles* you've just given me the perfect opportunity mwahahahaha!!! This has been in my drafts for a minute, but I'm glad it's finally done! And omg tysm for loving me and my stuff, honey!! Hope I make ya proud with this one :') ilysm ♡

Also, I'm mixing in another request into this one since it's a pretty small request (reader sucking on Toji's Adam's apple as he pounds you), plus it makes things easier for me in terms of writing out stuff. Hope that's okay with the other requester; if not, my apologies!ヾ(｡﹏｡)ﾉﾞAnd btw, tysm for 1.6k followers, y'all!! Love every single one of you~☆

Cw: Toji x fem! reader - explicit content, so minors DNI - mating press - Daddy kink - fingering (f! receiving) - breeding - unprotected sex (PSA: wrap it up, or get the fuck up!!) - reader skips the pill - fluff at the end bc why not - pregnancy (test at the end) - pet names (angel, baby, darlin', good girl, mama, sweetie) - oral fixation/reader sucking on Toji's adam's apple - the reader has stretch marks on their body bc I said so - praise - overstimulation - clitoral play (sucking & swiping). Wc: 3.4k

Toji, by all means, was not a man deserving of children.

His terrible childhood and upbringing have molded him into an emotionless and reserved person who only feels as though the only person he needs to look out for and care for is himself.

So when the premise of children came to him, he wouldn't give it the time of day. That is until he ends up having youths of his own. Even then, he would do the bare minimum of taking care of them — food, clothes, shelter, and taking or picking them up from school. And to top it off, his job wasn't befitting of a father — a hitman going mission to mission for money that he used to spend for himself, now going to the needs of his kids.

Toji knew Tsumiki and Megumi were better off without a father like him. Fatherhood (or children in general, for that matter) is no easy task, and it's clearly one he's not good at.

But all that changed when you came into the picture.

Never had he seen his kids warm up to someone, an outsider, so quick. Even when he mentioned his children to you at the beginning of your relationship, you didn't falter and happily wished to meet them. And the day you finally did was the day everything became a lot brighter for the entire Fushiguro family.

Not only did Tsumiki and Megumi come to trust you with every visit, but their adoration for you grew tenfold the more you were involved in their lives. And all Toji could do was watch you do your magic, whether it be watching animal documentaries with Megumi, making flower crowns with Tsumiki, or playing with them and the other kids at the nearby park.

And the most impressive part about it all was you teaching and including him in how he could get more involved with his youngsters. Now, his kids are closer to him than ever, going so far as Megumi clapping back on his father's snarky comments and Tsumiki having the man play tea parties (to his dismay, but whatever to makes his little girl happy).

It wouldn't have been possible if he hadn't had you around. You were just such a breath of fresh air to him and any child that came your way. Attentive and caring to the young ones as if you were a natural at mimicking the maternal role. He knew you'd be a great mother to any child, especially your own.

It was that thought alone that made Toji think about you having children. Or better yet, having a child with him. Making you pregnant with his baby. Making you his.

Toji walks down the stairs after putting his son and daughter to bed, his heavy footsteps beating the wooden floor beneath him with every step. He then enters the kitchen area, where he sees you washing the dishes from today's dinner after putting the food in the fridge.

When you notice his presence, you look up and offer a charming smile in his direction, your face illuminated beautifully by the ceiling kitchen lights that the image almost blinds him.

"Hey there." Your voice is always sweet to his ears, still smiling even when you turn back to washing dishes. "The kids?"

"Just finished puttin' 'em to bed," your eyes stay at the sink, but you can feel his heavy footsteps come from beside you. "But they said I suck at tellin' bedtime stories."

Your giggle is heard through the noise of dishes clacking on the rack. "Well, maybe you're not using cartoon voices like I told you to. They like it."

"Yeah, no, I'm not doin' that shit." You chuckle some more at his complaint, and he grabs a dry cloth to dry up dishes from the rack.

It's quiet between you, but Toji will sneak glances at you while you work through the dirty plates. His thoughts from before return, and all he can think about is you with a swollen belly.

The mere idea of having you bear his child fogs his brain. Witnessing your body change and expand with the growth of your little one within you, it's too much for his mind to indulge in.

The more he thinks about it, the crazier and hornier his mind goes. Unable to function suitably, Toji sighs heavily through his nose and places the dish and dry cloth on the countertop.

You notice him make his way behind you, his hands traveling down to your hips as his chin rests atop your head. But you pay him no mind and continue with your task. "Hey, darlin'."

The nickname has you hum to him, eyes focused on the soapy sponge and plate in your hands while your ears wait for him to continue. "Yes, Toji?"

He doesn't reply instantly, roaming his large palms up and down your waist and hips instead. "Ya know I love the hell outta you, right?" He goes on when you nod. "Always takin' care of me and lovin' me. But that love also goes to my lil squirts." A smile creeps in on his scarred lips as you giggle at his way of referring to his children. "It's just crazy to me how you're able to have 'em follow y'r every step, yet I can't even get a hug or smile before they leave for school unless I remind them."

"Well, maybe if their father didn't always bully and call them 'squirts' and 'brats' all day, they would show you some love."

"Shut up," Toji flicks water from the faucet onto your face, forcing you to laugh more from your teasing. His heart swoons from your laughter, having you sway side to side with his body behind you. "But I mean it; you're so good with kids. Makes me wonder how come you never had y'r own yet."

"I just love kids." It was a simple answer. "Plus, I never really had time to care for a child. Got work and stuff, you know. And besides, I practically treat Tsumiki and Megumi like my kids."

"Mmm," he replies aimlessly.

"However," you resume while placing a wet bowl on the rack. "I wouldn't mind having a little one of my own. Now that I'm pretty comfortable with where I'm at in life, I'd love to have a little baby to share it with."

Toji lets your words sink in before saying anything. Now that he sees where you stand on the topic, finally, he can voice his opinion.

"Y/n..." he treads carefully with the words he's about to say. "I've been thinkin' about somethin'."

"Thinking about what?" You can't deny the uneasy atmosphere with Toji's mysteriousness, yet you listen as you turn off the sink faucet.

The two of you stop swaying your bodies with each other. "How 'bout we have a baby?"

Your body goes rigid at the question, and breathing subsides as your mind goes rampant with reflections too fast to comprehend. He wants a child—another child!? With me??!

"Like, right now?" The only question that escaped your lips, your voice hushed to a whisper. No one else is here in the space but you two, although the talk you're having right now feels virtually forbidden to the tongue.

"Doesn't have to be right now," Toji moves his head to your shoulder, his hushed, gruff voice clear to your ears. "But as long as it's with you, one more kid won't hurt, right?"

And your breath hitches when a hand finds its way to the surface of your stomach, his fingers lightly teasing with the flesh of your abdomen. He places his lips on your neck, and you bite your bottom lip to repress a whimper. "Mmmm, why do you want more?" You still press him with questions despite almost dissolving into his kisses. "You already have a gorgeous girl—"

"I wan' have your girl." He murmurs softly to your ear before lightly biting the lobe, and a moan slips past you.

"A-And...a beautiful boy..."

"I want your boy."

"Toji, please," you surprise the older man by turning your body to face him fully, eyes surveying his. "This is no joke! Just because I don't have my own kid doesn't mean—"

You're silenced when Toji brings a hand to your cheek, cupping a side of your face. "I'm not jokin', sweetie. I know I'm not the best dad in the world — hell, I'm pretty lousy at it. But you," he leans forward while you instinctively go backward, hitting the sink behind you. "You're basically a mother to mine and a real damn good one, too. And since ya said things are good now, why don't I make you a parent fr' real."

"Toji—"

"Like I said: it doesn't have to be today or tomorrow. But as long as it's you," his thumb brushes your cheek as he looks deep into your eyes. "Let me give ya a baby, angel."

All you can do is look into his emerald orbs that examine you for a response. The silence between you two is accompanied by the ticking sounds of the clock on the kitchen wall. And after a few seconds, you sigh and place a hand on the big one caressing your cheek.

"If I say yes," your reply has his brows lifted. "Will you give me foot massages and a bowl of ramen at three in the morning and not be a bitch about it when I ask?"

Toji gives you a smile, his scarred lip tugged upwards. And you return one to him as he kisses your forehead.

"Works fr' me."

This is how the two of you end up in the bedroom; the ceiling lights toned down to a low shade, clothes discarded on the cold wooden floor, and the sound of lips smacking fills the silence.

"Mmmm, Daddy..." You whimper through the kisses, your hands find purchase on his strong shoulders, and you yelp when he bites your lip. His lips gradually embark downwards to your neck clavicle. Kisses and light suck to your nipples make you hum in pleasure, and a gasp prompts out when his teeth graze the bud of your soft mounds.

A hand sneaks between your legs and nestles in between the lips of your southern entrance, his big fingers enter inside with the use of the soapy fluid of your cunt, and you wail from the contact while he sucks on your breast.

"Such a good girl, angel." He lets go of your nipple to coax you, his mouth sucking your skin as his mouth continues its journey south. More licks on your body feel hot, kisses placed on every stretch mark he comes across. And he stops when he passes your tummy, coming up to see the view of his digits pushing to and fro inside your leaking chasm. "My fingers feelin' good, mama?"

"Yesssss," you hiss, eyes sewn shut to concentrate on the pleasurable sensation in your slit. He chuckles at your delighted expression before he leans down to suck on your clit, earning a shriek from your puffy lips. "Stoooop, I-I'm too sensitive—Ahhaaaannn!!"

He releases your tender bud from his mouth after placing a chaste kiss on it. "Sorry, baby, gotta have you nice and wet fr' me." He sucks and laps around on your wetness for a few more minutes before withdrawing his mouth from your leaky chasm, substituting his tongue with his big fingers to swipe on your clitoris. Broken sobs seep out from you. "Cummin' on my fingers and tongue, that's my girl."

The throbbing commotion between your legs has your ears ringing and your head pulsing. You've already come three times for thirty minutes. He's such a greedy man, but whatever it takes for you to prep for him.

Speaking of which, Toji props your legs onto his shoulders while aligning his cock to your folds, lathering the girth with your juices. Your heart beats irregularly with anticipation on the rise, a position you're all too familiar with. Toji sees you gawking at his glans kissing your folds, and he sneers salaciously. "Ready, sweetie?"

You give him a smile even through entering your lustful haze. "Skipped the pill and everything, Daddy." And with a kiss on your cheek, Toji wastes no time and pushes his length into you with every inhale you take. And the both of you moan when the cockhead slides right into your vulva. Every inch of his dick descends into you, making you full of his size, and whimpers fail to be suppressed as he scrapes your velvety walls deliciously.

After letting you adapt to him, his hips start with a slow rhythm for you to properly situate yourself with the mating press. However, with how you're gripping around him, it doesn't take long for him to quicken his pace. Soft wails soon become stifled squeals with the bite of your lips from the growing cadence, and your eyes begin to water when the underside of his shaft grazes your inner walls.

But when the tip of his cock finally touches your cervix, a choked scream sneaks past your restraint. And Toji chortles. "Mmmmm, that's what I wanna hear." He grinds his pelvis deep into your cunt, resulting in forced squeaks from your tongue.

"Ahhhnnn! Daddy, please—Oh, Jesus," It hurts to think when Toji accurately jabs your delicate cervix, tears streaming down your pretty cheeks. "Oh, God, it's too much, too mu—Oooohh!!"

"I know, darlin', I know." He comes down to your face, yet his pace does not falter. His speed increases and becomes harsher by the second, and your head pounds hard with every rut. You nibble on his neck, sucking on his Adam's apple as he drills his dick into you. "Nnnngh, so tight on me, mama. Gonna make me go crazy."

As if he wasn't going crazier already with the erratic rut of his hips. Driving his cock deep inside and the sound of his balls smacking your folds is all you can hear. Your face is now entirely hot, matching the tingling sensation of skin slapped together between your legs. You dare to peek down to see the union of your sexes, Toji's member now harboring a white ring near the base. Strings of your slick and his spit keep you two connected during this moment, and more incoherent shrieks are pulled from your throat.

"Nnnaaaaa, ahhhaaaa!!! D-Daddy, please!!" While there's uncertainty about whether your pleas will be heard, you still express yourself to him. "It's coming, it's coming! I'm gonna cum, gonna cummmm!! Nnnmmph!!" And when he comes down to you with his complete weight caging you in, the pressure of his body has you submit to him completely.

"Yeah, wanna cum on Daddy's dick." He says with his condescending, guttural tone that almost makes you melt onto the satin sheets beneath you. "G' ahead, mama—Hmmph! Make a nice mess while I finish here..." His strokes become ever intenser than before; his length brushes your inner walls, and continuous pokes to your cervix prompt your orgasm to climb faster. And you soon fall into a wave of pure ecstasy, your cunt clamping around him desperately while your body trembles.

And Toji is forced to fall into a release of his own when the walls of your slit contract around him, spilling into you with the flex of his abdomen. His sweaty body is on top of yours, and your breathing matches his as you two experience each crescendo.

Heavy exhales sync as you two calm down within your intimate embrace. Your mind slowly returns from its foggy state with the calm atmosphere soothing your body, and your quivers now subsided while the older man lays kisses and sucks on your neck. But it comes to a halt when a sudden yelp comes from your swollen lips because he thrusts into you again, even with your vulva being extremely sensitive.

He lifts his head from the crook of your neck, and it's not to your surprise that he has a smirk on that dumb, handsome face of his. His lips curled to where his teeth peek from under his scar. "Ya know I gotta fuck you more than once, right, sweetie? Make sure you're all filled up 'n all."

You suck your teeth with furrowed brows, but a smile comes up with breathless giggles. "I'm telling you, Mr. Fushiguro, you're most definitely treating me to daily foot massages when I get pregnant."

"Whatever you say," he shuts your threats with a kiss on your soft lips. "My pretty darlin'..."

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊✩₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

Toji twiddles with something in his hand while you lay on his chest in the shared bedroom. The kids were taking a nap after coming from school, leaving the two of you to enjoy the leisure of each other's company.

But today was a different day compared to any other. Because even if you two are looking at the television with the old rom-com displayed, neither of you is actually watching. Too busy distracted with the smiles plastered on your faces to care for what's on the screen. The only thing corrupting your minds is a matter that has you two in glee after a week of anticipation and mutual work.

The man peers at his hand to look at the object between Toji's fingers. Nothing but a pink and white stick — a pregnancy test. And at the center of the device conveyed two red lines, the signature implication that you were indeed with a child. His child.

"Hey, Toji," the call of his name has him look down at you, still facing the television despite your attention not wholly on it. "What do you think they are?"

"Hmm?" It takes a few seconds for it to click until he notices your hand brushing around your belly. He chuckles. "I'm hopin' for a girl. Wan' 'em to look and act like you."

You hum aimlessly at his answer before you berate him with more of your thoughts. "What if it's a boy? I think it'd be cute to have another mini-you running around the house."

"Nah, one mini-me is enough, and he already talks back to me like he's a teen." You giggle at the light sour face he shows and his complaints about Megumi. "Besides, I don't want another me. I'm already a lousy dad, and I didn't have the best childhood. I wouldn't want you to deal with a child that's exactly like me..."

Silence ensues with the answer; it's the only response you deem appropriate. That was the case until you say what was next on your mind.

"Toji, I'm sure your upbringing wasn't the best because people weren't there for you when you needed them. And although that's shaped you into the man I love, even I wouldn't want you to go through all that for a second time." You can feel the weight of his green eyes on you while you speak, though you don't turn to face him. "Nevertheless, times are different. You have me to love and care for you now—you and your beautiful children. You might not be the best dad in the world, but you've done a great job taking care of them."

"Thanks to you." He interrupts you, and you laugh.

"Yes, thanks to me. And because you have me, this little one won't be going through what you went through. I promise you, you're not alone in this. Because I'm pretty scared as this is my first pregnancy. But that's okay since I have you to take care of me. I'll be there to help you, and you'll be there to help me. As long as that's true, we'll do just fine."

Taken aback by your response, the older man turns to the pregnancy test still in his hand. The more he looks at the device, the more he ponders what you said. And a small smile creeps up on him, coming to a decision himself. At this point, it doesn't matter what the sex of the child will be to him. What warms his heart is that you promise to be by his side, helping him watch your little one — his child — his family grow as the days and years pass.

"Now," your voice brings him back to the present, whipping his head back to you. "I can't say the same if we end up with twins. Because you'll just have to deal with one while I have the other."

Toji puts the pregnancy test on the nightstand and goes for your nose to pinch it. "Fuckin' kid, who told you were funny, huh?" Your laughter only fuels him to mess with you more, but that's okay. He's smiling at your silliness, and that's all you want right now.

Because, even if they're not here yet, no child should have a father who doesn't know how to smile.

[thef1diary]

Little Big Fan | Eight

— Little Big Allergy

Series Masterlist

wc: 3.6k

Note: I am not a medical professional, so please let me know if something is incorrect

"Don't you dare think about cancelling, you are going on that date," your best friend's voice rang out of your phone on speaker while you were choosing a dress for tonight.

You turned to look at the phone, as if your best friend was standing there, "I'm not going to cancel, I just don't know what to wear," you responded, placing another dress against your body but frowning.

"Wear that one sexy red dress you have, who knows, you might just get laid tonight."

You shuffled through your closet, finding the red dress in the back, which was expected since you didn't wear it in a long time. You held it out in front of you, "don't you think it's too revealing for the first date? Maybe I could wear this next time."

It was a backless, short garment with two straps. While the back was revealing, so was the front, which featured two cutouts around the hips and exposed a bit of cleavage due to the lack of material.

Your friend hummed, "so we're planning a second date as well huh?" You could basically hear her smirk on the other end. "Well I hope this date goes well," you reasoned, but the jittery feeling didn't go away.

"You and Max are already good friends who happen to flirt occasionally, what could go wrong?" Then after a short pause, she added, "actually no, don't answer that. Try your blue dress, I bet he'd like to see you in blue."

After almost every interaction you've had with Max, starting from the grocery store, you've told your friend everything. Which is why when she suggested wearing blue, you weren't opposed to it.

Putting your red dress back in the closet for another time, which was hopefully soon, you held a navy blue dress in your hand, examining it before holding it up against your body.

While this one, like the red dress, had two straps holding it together, it was longer, reaching a few inches past your knees and including a little slit down the side for convenience.

"Alright, this is the one," you stated and continued conversing with your friend while you changed and began doing your makeup.

"So Bella is at Tyler's?" She asked, making you nod before realizing that she couldn't see you. "Yeah, she'll be there for the weekend."

"Oh how fun!" You could hear the sarcasm in her voice and chuckled, "it's fine, she should be spending time with her dad."

"The same one who called her overdramatic? Did you seriously have to have a kid with a guy like him?" This was a conversation you've had with her many times, and you would always reply with the same answer, "we were young and immature, but Isabella is the best thing that's ever happened to me."

"She truly is, which makes me glad that she turned out like you more than him." You chuckled, "oh trust me, I am glad about that too. It would've been a nightmare if I had to see a little version of him all the time."

"So, speaking of Isabella, how are you going to tell her that you are dating someone who happens to be her favourite person in her favourite sport?"

You groaned, "I don't know, I really don't know. I can't stop thinking about it, because of what Tyler told me," you explained. "Are you still believing his words? Actually scratch that, why are you letting your ex determine your future relationship?"

"God, why do you have to ask such questions," you muttered, taking a moment to think about your response.

"I don't want to believe him, I have a feeling something else happened that day which he didn't tell me about. Plus he's not only my ex, he's the father of my child. I don't think of him as anything more than that."

"Honestly that asshole shouldn't even be considered the father of such a beautiful little girl," your friend stated, and you couldn't help but agree with her.

"Anyways, let's not talk about him, I don't want to ruin my mood before the night even starts," you comment, with your friend humming in agreement.

"You're right, let's talk about Max!" She exclaimed, making you chuckle. That's whom you ended up talking about for the remainder of the time you were getting ready.

Even though she knew all the details right from day one, she wanted another whole story time of how you and Max met, leading up to when he asked you out. Instead of opposing to repeat the story, which you don't even know how many times you've told her by now, you happily told her all the details as if it was the first time.

A few minutes after you ended the phone call with your best friend, your phone rang again which you initially thought was a call from Max. However, it was a call from an unknown number.

You answered the call, and you were met with a woman's panicking voice on the other end, "is this Isabella's mother?"

"Yes, who is this?" You asked first, calming down the inner voices that instantly thought about the worse possible scenario involving your daughter.

"I'm Emma, I don't know if you know me but I am actually at the hospital, with Isabella." You tightened your grasp on the phone, as it was close to slipping away from your hands at Emma's words.

"What happened and which hospital are you at?" You instantly began moving around your house, finding your car keys as you waited for a response.

Emma told you the address as you were leaving through the front door. "She had a severe allergic reaction, and I thought it would be best to bring her to the hospital. I am sorry for disturbing you, I wasn't able to get in touch with Tyler."

You took a deep breath in, knowing that it was bound to happen someday, even though you would rather not have it happen at all. "I'm on my way, should be there in ten minutes. Thank you for letting me know."

It would've been pointless to argue with her, especially since she was the one who informed you of the situation at hand and had the decency to take your daughter to the hospital.

You rushed into the hospital within eight minutes, a record time for you, and you might've broken a few speeding laws but it was for a good reason. It didn't take too long finding Isabella, considering she was in the ER, with a frantic woman standing nearby, whom you assumed was Emma.

As soon as she spotted you, her first words to you was another apology, "I am so, so sorry, I had no idea she had a peanut allergy." That led you towards one question, well more than one but you started off with just one, "what happened?"

She sighed, before telling you how she spent the entire day with Isabella. "One of my friends came by and dropped off some baked goods, I swear I had no idea that it had peanuts in it."

You reasoned that if you calmed her down, it would calm you down as well, because the increasing dread in your thoughts would not benefit you in any situation. You put your hands on her shoulders, "I'm not blaming you for it, you didn't know."

You looked at the doors leading to the ER, "how bad was it?" Emma hesitated before muttering words that made your heart ache, "really bad, she started swelling up everywhere and then passed out."

You tried to sit down, but the need to know her well-being caused you to walk back and forth in the hallway.  Your phone buzzed in your hand, and you were about to ignore it until you recalled something really important.

"Shit!" Max was calling. Of course he was, after all he was expecting you to be home and ready for a date tonight.

"Hey, I'm standing at your front door, are you home or?" He started and awkwardly chuckled, causing you to shut your eyes, imagining how the night was expected to go. He was probably holding a bouquet of flowers, looking like an idiot standing by the door because you weren't home.

"Max, I'm so sorry, I'm actually at the hospital." There was no reason to lie, but even after telling the truth, you didn't feel any less guilty.

"What happened? Are you okay? Is Isabella okay?" His response was quick, and slightly surprising but you've known Max long enough that his kindness wasn't as shocking anymore.

"It's Isabella, allergic reaction," you briefly described, and heard some shuffling around on the other end before he asked for the address. "You don't have to come," you told him as you normally did, but he didn't agree again, saying "I want to."

You didn't argue with him, as your heart warmed at the fact that Max wanted to see Isabella himself, and stay right by your side until she was completely fine.

Quickly telling him the address as you noticed a doctor walking towards you and Emma, you hung up the call. "Which one of you is the patient's guardian?"

You stepped forward, "I'm her mother, how is she?"

"It was an anaphylactic allergic reaction, however everything is under control. We've administered epinephrine but we will be moving her to the ICU for a few hours just for observation purposes in case the symptoms are back."

You let out a sigh in relief, as did Emma. "Thank you," you nodded towards the doctor. Once they left, you sat down, the anxiousness leaving your body.

Looking at Emma, who was standing against the wall in front of you, you had another question brewing in your mind. "Where was Tyler when all this happened?" You asked, remembering that she called you only because she couldn't reach him.

"He said he had an emergency meeting come up," Emma spoke her words carefully, earning raised eyebrows from you. "He left you alone with my daughter?" You had to confirm the words you were hearing and scoffed once she nodded.

"It's not your responsibility to take of my child, it's his. You're not her guardian nor babysitter, you shouldn't have to do that." Emma shrugged as if it wasn't a big deal, "it's not the first time."

"How dare he?" You muttered under your breath before standing up and stepping closer to her. "We both have epipens for situations like this, and I am assuming that since you didn't know about her allergy, Tyler didn't tell you about the epipen either?”

Emma shook her head, "no, he didn't."

His lack of attention, led Isabella right to this moment. If he had told Emma about your daughter's allergy, or even what to do when she has allergic reaction, neither of you would be this worried about her health.

Emma, having realizing the depth of the situation, sighed, "I haven't been able to get a hold of him and if it weren't for Isabella constantly talking about you and telling me your phone number to the point where I had it memorized, I wouldn't have known what to do in this situation."

You pitied the woman standing in front of you, especially as you also knew that it was not her fault. You cracked a smile, "she talks about me huh?"

"Oh yeah, she considers you the best mother in the world, and based on her stories, I agree with her."

Then, you heard Max calling your name, walking towards you in a rush. He instantly wrapped an arm around your waist as if it was an instinct, "is she okay?"

Emma stepped away, picking up her phone for another useless attempt of calling her boyfriend.

You wrapped both arms around Max, bringing him in a hug, "yeah, she's okay."

Once he pulled back, he cradled your face with his palms, "are you okay?" You smiled, and your eyes filled with unshed tears because of his question. "Much better now."

Then, Max noticed your outfit which happened to be the dress you were supposed to wear on your date. "Wow," he breathed, his gaze unwavering, taking you in.

He was also dressed up, wearing a suit with a bow tie, and you couldn't help but reach up to touch it, "cute," you commented, making him raise his brows.

"Cute?" He repeated with a questioning tone. You nodded, biting your bottom lip to prevent a smile. "Cute and handsome."

"You are beautiful," he replied, watching as you avert your eyes because his gaze was intense.

"Oh, Max, this is Emma," you decided to introduce them, and added, "she's the one who brought Isabella here."

Max raised an eyebrow in question, "I thought Isabella was with Tyler?" He asked, directed at you more than Emma.

"Well, he wasn't home when this happened, only Emma and Isabella," you stated, and Max gauged your emotions for a moment, quickly recognizing the underlying rage you had directed at your ex. Max knew you'd be discussing this later, in the safety of your own house, so he didn't ask you to elaborate. 

A nurse came by, "Isabella is now conscious, and asking for her parents," they stated, along with the room number.

Emma looked at you and Max with a fond smile, before turning towards you, "I think I should get going now that you're here."

A genuine smile graced your lips, "thank you, Emma, for bringing her here and for staying with her even without him."

"Of course, she's the cutest little girl and I'm glad to get to know her." Both of you stood still for a moment, debating on whether or not you should hug her. Then, without thinking twice you initiated a hug that was easily welcomed by her.

You waited till she left your sights before looking at Max, "let's go?" You held out your hand but he shrugged, "she's asking for her parents, you should go."

You stepped forward and grabbed his hand, "you're coming with me," you decided for him. Although Max didn't pull away, he asked, "what if she doesn't want to see me?"

"Trust me, she'll be happy to see you," you convinced him and walked towards the room she was admitted in while holding each other's hand.

When you entered, Isabella's smile widened once she spotted you and Max. "Mama, Maxy!" She cheered, though quieter than usual.

A nurse stood by her side, monitoring her health and checking the IV drip inserted into your daughter's arm.

"Oh my angel, how are you?" You dropped Max's hand and walked closer to her, lightly kissing her forehead. Instead of a verbal response, she formed a thumbs up with her hand.

Then she looked at the door again, "is daddy coming too?" Isabella asked, sounding hopeful. You shook your head, "no sweetheart, daddy is not coming."

Instead of the usual deflated mood, she shrugged, "it's okay, Maxy's here." She held her arms around asking for a hug, only flinching for a moment since she forgot about the drip connected to her arm.

Max quickly stepped forward, bending over to hug her. "All good, Bella?" He asked, once he felt her arms wrap around him tighter. She nodded for a moment then shook her head against him, "it hurts," she whispered.

He brought his hand up to ruffle her hair before pulling away, "you are a very brave girl."

"Really?" She asked, and scooted over a little so Max could sit beside her. He nodded, "of course! Very brave."

She beamed, snuggling closer to him before looking at you. "Mama, come here," she patted the other side, and surprisingly the three of you were able to fit on the very small hospital bed.

A nurse was constantly in the room, checking in on Isabella's health from time to time and since there weren't any repeated symptoms of an allergic reaction, the three of you were out of the hospital in a few hours.

Max followed you in his car, and carried your sleeping daughter inside the house. Instead of taking her straight to her bedroom, he laid her down on the couch in case she wakes up and needs her mother.

It was safe to say that you were not going too far away from her any time soon.

You were in the kitchen, filling up a glass of water when he returned. He stood behind you, with his hands trailing down your sides before resting on your waist, and his chin on your shoulder. "Did I tell you how stunning you look?"

You hummed, "maybe a few times but I don't mind hearing it again."

He turned you around in his grasp, "well, you look breathtakingly beautiful."

You blushed, "you and your compliments," you chuckled. "What's wrong with it?" He asked, but you shook your head, "nothing, it's just I'll never get bored of hearing it."

He smiled, "good, because you'll be hearing at least one every day."

You tilted your head to the side, "every day? Are you sure you won't run out?" He shook his head, "not unless you keep finding ways to make me speechless."

Both of you remained in that position for a moment but then you frowned, "I'm sorry,"

"For what?" He tilted your chin up as soon as you averted your gaze away from him. "We weren't able to go on the date."

Max let out a sound in protest, "I'm pretty sure your daughter's health matters so much more than our date night. Plus the night isn't over," he added with a smile, confusing you even further.

"What does that mean?" He parted away from you and it quickly made you miss the warmth that his body provided you. "Why don't you go change into something comfortable," he suggested, almost pushing you out of the kitchen.

You weren't opposed to the idea, so you went upstairs to change after checking on your daughter. You found the most comfortable pair of sweatpants and a shirt, and removed your makeup as well.

Walking back downstairs, you saw Max waiting at the bottom of the stairs for you. He had removed his blazer and bow tie, unbuttoning the top few buttons of his shirt as well.

He held out his hand, waiting for your hand to hold his, and although you were confused, you wouldn't pass up an opportunity to hold his hand.

"It's not much, definitely not up to first date standards but we'll manage," he commented as he led you to the kitchen table where he had prepared two packets of instant noodles.

"I haven't been on a date in forever so anything you do will set my standards." You smiled when you noticed the lit candle.

"Well, then I will raise your standards next time by taking you out on a proper date." He held the chair out for you, waiting for you to sit before rounding the table and sitting down himself.

It took two minutes before Max moved his own chair right next to yours because he didn't want to sit on the opposite side. You chuckled at his antics but it was much appreciated.

"What's on your mind?" he asked once he saw you visibly thinking. You shrugged, "I don't think we should be discussing these thoughts on a first date."

"This is far from what a first date should be like, so there are no rules. I know you want to talk about what happened at the hospital," he prompted and he was spot on, so you agreed.

"I can't believe he actually left Isabella under Emma's supervision. Not that there is anything wrong with her, but it's not her responsibility!" Max nodded in agreement, "where was he?"

"In a fucking meeting," you exasperated, eating another forkful of the noodles. "It must've been very stressful for Emma," you sighed, finishing your short rant because you truly had no words for your ex's irresponsible behaviour.

Still, Max listened to every word. Once you were finished eating, he turned your chair towards him. "We can agree on the fact that he is an incompetent father."

"Yeah, I don't even know what would've happened if Emma wasn't there either. He surely wouldn't have left Bella alone right?"

Max shrugged, "hey, stop worrying about what could've happened. Bella's safe, she's okay." He placed a palm on your cheek, rubbing his thumb back and forth in a soothing motion.

You nodded, "you're right." Making eye contact with him, you were quickly lost in his gaze. While it almost made you want to look away, you couldn't.

"You know," you started, wanting to divert away from the current topic. He hummed, urging you to go on.

"I don't really care for an extravagant date, all I really need is you. I'm happy with this, with us." He smiled, to the point where you could notice the creases forming at the corners.

"I'm happy with us too, but I will be taking you out on an extravagant date because you deserve it, as well as much more."

You rolled your eyes playfully, knowing that it would be hard to convince Max otherwise, but you could think of a few ways to try when the time comes.

"Thank you for being here with me," you added, needing him to know about your appreciation. Your words also hinted at all the moments he shared with you, and Isabella.

He seemed to understand your hint, "I'm glad to be here with you, both of you."

Taglist: (continuing the taglist in comments) @xjval @mrsmaybank13 @cherry-piee @urfavnoirette @solphin @burningcupcakefire @nessacarty1 @dreamsarebig @omgsuperstarg @fanficweasley @redbullgirly @llando4norris @wonnou @randomgirlnumber13 @dark-night-sky-99 @chanshintien @leilanixx @gisellesprettylies @peachiicherries @monsieurbacteria6 @67-angelofthelordme-67 @arian-directioner @distancedss @morenofilm @sachaa-ff @lighttsoutlewis @teamnovalak @casperlikej @sadg3 @d3kstar @lewisvinga @lpab @queenofmanydreams @glitterf1 @honethatty12 @drunk-teens-doing-drugs @its-avalon-08 @yourbane @oconswrld @noneofyourfbusinessworld @ssrcsm @softtina @hockeyboysarehot @formulaal @namgification @tallrock35 @bloodyymaryyy @formulanni @ellouisa17 @phantomxoxo

[munson-blurbs]

How do you think Eddie would react to a fwb reader who uses sex as a distraction from their feelings?? Like, they’ve been having a bad week an their mental state isn’t great but heyyy there’s sex. Reader doesn’t really care about the pleasure part of sex just the distraction. Worried Eddie would feel a little used ngl :P

((Dancy dances away nervously))

I know you started this with "do you think" but my brain said WRITE A BLURB so here we are. Also shoutout @corroded-hellfire for helping me make it cute without being cliche.

Warnings: mentions of smut (18+ only, minors DNI), friends with benefits, angst/yearning, idiots in love, made it fluffy because I'm a sap

WC: 747

--

You hadn’t thought anything of it the night he’d called you “baby.” He was deep within you, melding his body with yours. Lost in the moment.

Or the night he’d mumbled, “your pussy was made for me” while slamming into you from behind. It was just dirty talk; nothing more and nothing less. 

Maybe you should have been tipped off when he’d growled, “mine,” his voice barely above a whisper as he pressed soft kisses below your earlobe. You’d figured the word, like the sex, was meaningless. 

But tonight’s comment stops you in your tracks. Your legs are wobbling beneath you, exhausted from riding him, as you step back into your pants. 

“Do you wanna, like, cuddle for a sec?”

A giggle escapes from your lips, swollen and kiss-bitten. He’s joking; he has to be. The two of you have a perfectly choreographed routine: you have a bad day, you call Eddie, you fuck, and then you leave. And his latest suggestion would definitely interfere with step four. 

When your eyes meet his, you realize that he’s serious. Hurt and confusion at your laughter crease his brows, and he tugs the sheet up a bit higher. 

“Sorry, I, um…” He shakes his head and rubs his face. “Never mind. You probably have to go anyway.”

You’re in no hurry to return home, fresh off of yet another argument with your roommate. That’s why you’d come over to Eddie’s trailer in the first place. And it isn’t as though you’d never thought about being in his strong, tattooed arms. The way he’d hold you flush against him, your cheek on his chest, the sound of his heartbeat in your ear. It’s something you’d once wanted—craved, even—but you couldn’t let vulnerability infiltrate you like that again. 

You spent high school watching him pine over the cheerleaders. He unwittingly broke your heart over and over with each woman he hooked up with at the Hideout, overlooking you despite your presence at every show. Being friends with benefits is risky enough, and post-sex snuggling will send you teetering over the edge back into the rocky terrain of unrequited love. 

And so you lean into humor as you shrug on your shirt. “I don’t think this friends-with-benefits arrangement includes cuddling.” Keeping your tone light and even, restraining every desire to crawl into bed with him. 

“Right, yeah.” He sighs and offers a sad half-smile. “It’s just…I was thinking—”

“That’s dangerous.”

He flips you off and continues. “I was thinking that maybe we could be more than that. Y’know, maybe we could have sex when you’re happy, too.” 

“I am happy when we have sex,” you counter.

Eddie shakes his head again. “I’m talking about before we do it.” He gnaws on his thumbnail. “It feels like you only want me when you have a bad day. A-And I’m glad I can be here for you and stuff, but sometimes I wonder if I’m a friend or just a good lay.”

You try to look at him when you speak, but he keeps his gaze trained on the ground. “Eddie,” you start, taking a seat next to him. His chest is slick with sweat, the soft hairs matted down. “Eddie, I had the biggest, dumbest crush on you when we were younger. And knowing I couldn’t have you tore me apart.” You let your hand rest on his. “I can’t risk having you and then losing you.”

“Losing me?” Eddie laughs softly and his free palm comes up to cup your cheek. “Look at me. Where am I going?”

“You could find someone new, someone better, someone who—”

He cuts you off with a searing kiss, remnants of your arousal still tinging his lips and tongue. “There’s no one better,” he murmurs. “You see me answering the door at two in the morning for anyone else? Think I’d miss out on precious sleep for them?” 

One arm hooks around you back and pulls you in until you assume the little spoon position. Nimble fingers undo the button of your jeans, slowly and patiently, a stark contrast to the way he’d practically torn the denim removing them earlier. 

“‘S that comfier?” He asks through a yawn.

“Mhm.” And it is. It’s the most relaxed you’ve been in a while, at least without him inside you. 

His curls tickle the back of your neck as he nuzzles into you. He staves off sleep long enough to speak one last time. 

“I’m glad you’re staying, baby.”

--

[binniesbooks]

• MIRROR, MIRROR ON THE WALL

SB 000 .F23 2024

wc 3.2k

pairings classrepresentative!Soobin x bulliedfem!reader

warnings humiliation, slight bully Soobin, bullied reader, fainting, facial, unprotected sex, creampie, mirror sex, recording, oral sex (m. receiving), squirting, name calling (+ if i missed anything)

faye's notes I'M TOTALLY CRAZY! Like seriously! I should stop writing fics out of impulse BAHAHAHAHA this is not proofread, I'm sorry, again, this story is just made impulsively 😭 Soobin should stop posting pictures out of nowhere. I need to write about him immediately because I'm his wife. 😋 No one should do it first before me 😋 I just love Soobin so much and his mirror shots! Fuck. Dead.

p.s. wrote this for more or less 4 hours, wtf

"Ahh! Fuck, why are you so f-fucking good!" Soobin threw his head back with one arm supporting his body and the other one holding his phone, trying to capture every moment.

"Look at you acting so modest at school, but here you are, giving someone head," he smirked, tugging a fistful of your hair, making you moan with his cock still inside your mouth.

"Shit!" He hissed through his teeth as he felt the pleasuring vibrations from your mouth.

Soobin is your most hated person in the world, if that's enough to explain. He makes fun of you. He causes you trouble, harm, and danger. But the fact that he's one of the most respected representatives of your class, you can't do anything but let your anger just boil inside you. 

Choi Soobin is not your average type of classmate—enemy. He never fails to be included in the rank list—he's an intelligent and handsome man. He talks so well in front of the class, he gets high scores, he has the fame. You would actually have a crush on him if only he treated you the same way he treats the others.

And you hated your class for always laughing along with him and always tolerating what he does—well, he's actually a good student, you're just not on his "people that I will treat right" list.

"How are you miss 'teacher's pet'?" Soobin would subtly pull a chair to sit in front of your desk, often whispering these things.

"Soobin, please. If you have nothing else to say, move," you would firmly answer him.

"What? Aren't you proud that you know how to find your way under their pants?" he accused.

"I'm not doing any of the sort! I won't commit sexual activities with people other than my soon-to-be husband!" Your voice came out as a squeak as you tried to hold yourself back, but you're seething with anger. 

"Oh, what are you doing anyway? Drawing your idols?" he snickers.

"Choi Soobin--"

"Yes, darling?" his eyes meeting yours with a smirk plastered on his lips. "You know what," he starts, casually tucking your straying hair behind your ear, "If I were you, I would stop doing that, they don't even know you."

You clicked your tongue, swatting his hand away, "Soobin, I swear—"

"Yes, yes, you swear," he snickers once again as he stands up, the sharp scraping sound of the steel chair making your ears hurt, gathering the class' attention. Soobin casually shrugged his shoulders, making your classmates continue what they were doing.

"Listen!" Soobin pounded the podium that afternoon for an announcement—oh yeah, he's the class representative.

"We will be having our annual outdoor activity next week."

With a heavy heart, you sighed. The 5-day trip is your most hated activity. You would go to a camp, pair up with your friends, and do the task together. Not to mention the unending seminars and trainings while you're at it.

Of course, a week won't pass by without Soobin getting into your nerves. You're so fed up with him and his petty attitude towards you, but you don't know it yourself, you just can't find the courage to fight back or at least stand up for yourself. You would always be left with your nails digging into your palms and a boiling blood. 

"Okay guys! Line up! We're getting into the bus! I'm checking the attendance!" It's still so early in the morning and you get to hear his irritating voice again, which you resorted to wearing earphones to at least drown his voice.

However, you were the last one to get in inside the bus, so there are no more available seats to sit down aside from the two-seater in the front. And of course, one of the seats is already occupied. By who? Who else—the Choi Soobin himself.

"Excuse me, does anyone want to trade seats?" you bargained. Only for them to answer with "sorry, I want to sit with my friend" and such. 

"As much as you don't want to sit beside me, I don't want to sit beside a whore and a slut like you," Soobin whispered with a fake smile when you sat beside him. 

"Shut the fuck up. I'm not a whore nor a slut, I don't do explicit activities just like you," you seethed. "I bet you're the type that fucks anyone just to get your dick wet," you whispered, rolling your eyes. Soobin could only laugh at you.

You tried to focus on the road the whole ride. Doing your best to ignore Soobin's huge sleeping figure just beside you. Your eyes flitted to the rearview mirror of the bus, staring a hole at Soobin's head—to kill him—through the reflection. And yes, Soobin actually looks kind and peaceful when he sleeps. There, you silently wished for him to at least be a little less meaner. 

You didn't know you fell asleep. You woke up inside the empty bus. You quickly marched out to look for your classmates. It looks like they are just starting to settle down. You scrambled your way towards the camp, pulling your suitcase. You're lucky one of your male classmates noticed you and had at least the decency to offer a hand. 

When you arrived just by the door, you swear you heard Soobin murmur something behind you like 'look at our pick me girl' or something along the lines. 

After the short orientation, you celebrated a little inside, knowing that the girls and the boys would not share the same room to sleep, at least. And you celebrated further when they announced that the ratio of the room to the student would be 1:1. Basically, you have the privacy you needed, and you don't need to be bothered about having a roommate. 

You were asked to rest for now and just return to the hall in the afternoon to officially start the program. You giggled when you got inside the room. Quickly running to the bedroom and jumping on the bed. 

But then you were startled when you heard laughter and loud voices.

 Oh crap! The walls are thin! 

But that's the least of your concerns; it's not like you would be noisy or something.

The afternoon came quickly, and the program kicked off without flaws. They announced the activities that should be done and the schedule for the meals, including the curfew hours. If you were to be asked? Your answer would be, so far, so good. 

The dinner was also held in the same hall. The organizers did a good job of making use of the tables and chairs in the hall as your dining table and training table.

However, your little happy moment was immediately cut off when Soobin purposely grazed one of the students elbows, making the cold water she was holding be poured over you. Loud gasps from the crowd echoed inside the hall as strings of apology came out of the student's mouth. Your eyes flickered throughout the wide space as you muttered, "It's okay," to the student. Your eyes found Soobin walking away from the scene.

You quickly finished your meal after patting your drenched shirt with a tissue the student offered. After finishing your meal, you have no other choice but to go straight to your room. 

You prayed that tomorrow would be a fine day for you.

Tuesday. Second day of the outdoor activity.

You were grouped into pairs. The organizers taught you about first aid. Orienting you about the things you should and shouldn't do in case of emergency. You and your partner executed every step well. It does show that you have learned everything.

Soobin also did well in their execution. But you noticed about his 'unnecessary' touches to his girl partner. Well, he actually isn't doing anything unnecessary. You're just too overprotective of your body. 

Soobin watched you being mortified with his simple quirks, laughing to himself, judging you and your mind.

Wednesday.

You were grouped into five members. Your next activity was the obstacle course. The sole reason for this is to train your mind to think quickly for a technique that would work and allow you to lead. 

Some of the groups even failed from the start. They couldn't decide which would be the leader. 

On the other hand, Soobin was leading his group at ease. He looks like he knows it, just like the back of his hand. Too familiar with what a leader should do.

Thursday. 

It suddenly rained, so your activity that was supposed to be held on the mountain was postponed and was moved for the next day. Which made your stay eventually longer for another day. The organizers resorted to an indoor activity. Or you could actually call this free time. They allowed everyone to have fun. Everyone was having a blast on their own or with their friends.

You decided to take a short walk while the rain poured hard. You passed by a vending machine and grabbed yourself a drink—which might be wrong because you're too far from the hall now and there's no restroom to be found. 

Your eyes widened when you saw a room, which you guessed was a toilet. But when you opened the door, someone was inside.

"What the fuck?! Don't you know how to knock?!"

"Aaahhhh! Don't you know how to lock?!" you retorted as you froze in your feet and turned your back to the person inside the toiled. 

"Fucking goodness! What the hell are you doing here?!" he zipped his pants up before he turned to you—again, it was Soobin.

"I-i'm looking for a restroom! You should know how to lock the door!" You squealed.

You heard him scoffed, "The lock doesn't work, and..." 

"And?" you questioned, folding your arms in front of you, feigning frustration—but you couldn't hide the fact that your ears were so red. 

"This restroom is not for the girls, weirdo." His lips played a mocking smile. "You're not beating the whore allegations, are you?" He stepped forward, trapping you on the wall, his hand flew to your waist, pinning you.

You tried to push him away, "Get your filthy hands off—H-hah!" 

Your body trembled, and your knees became wobbly when he pressed his hand against your lower abdomen. 

"S-soobin... Your... Your hand..." You tried to pry his hand away, but to no avail. Soobin just pressed it further, making the hair of your body stand up. 

"S-soobin... Please... Y-your h-hand," you stuttered. You felt a few drops of the hot liquid flow out from you.

Soobin pulled his hand away, leaving you slumped on the floor, shaking. "You're so easy," he chuckled before he left.

You didn't almost make it to the toilet. The moment you let it out, you felt tears run down your cheeks. Maybe because of humiliation, or anger, or arou—there's no way!

That night, you chose not to eat dinner, you stayed inside your room. However, someone knocked on your door. You didn't want to open it at first, but the person behind kept on knocking. When you opened the door, there's no person in the hallway. But a food was left beside your door. Your name was written on the water bottle and the packaging of the meal, just like the other meals you ate the past few days. You decided to eat it, not bothering to think whether it's poisoned or whatever.

Friday. The supposed to be last day of the outdoor activity. 

It was a team activity again. The survival. Your team must survive for at least one day in the mountains. You were supposed to look for foods in the wild, to survive a day or night in the mountains. The team is composed of four members. And lucky you, you were teamed up with Soobin. 

You tried your best to be as distant as possible. Just looking at him makes you remember everything that happened last night. 

Everything was going well from the start. Three of you were girls, and you all agreed that Soobin would be the leader of the group.

You made a small port for the four of you to rest, you found fruits that can be eaten, and you gathered the woods for the fire you were supposed to make later.

However, Soobin wasn't expecting something like this to happen—for you to faint out of exhaustion. You are actually weak-hearted, which makes you easily dizzy and tired when doing extra workloads. 

"Soobin! Y/n fainted!" 

"What?!" Soobin quickly ran towards the three of you. The other girls are panicking about you. "Fuck!" he muttered as he tried to wake you up. "Y/n wake up!"

"This won't do! You guys continue our task; I'll bring her to the camp. Please take care of yourselves up here, okay?"

Soobin carried you on his back, walking and running down the mountain as fast as he could. He was assisted by the organizers, but the program wasn't perfect at all! There are no nurses around. 

So Soobin got no choice but to bring you to his assigned room and take care of you instead—class representative duties, right?

"God fucking damn it!" he huffed as he laid you down on the floor, and he was chasing his breath. 

He washed himself first, cleaning out the dirt that clung to his body. Then he grabbed some of his extra clean shirts for you to change into. He wiped you clean with a wet towel and wanted to change your clothes, but he decided not to do it or you would make a fuss. Then he carefully laid you down on his bed, keeping you warm.

One of the teachers knocked and checked on him. He was also told that the activity was cancelled and they made the students go back. The teacher was relieved to know that you were fine and that you're resting.

You woke up with him sitting beside you. "W-where are we? What happened?" you weakly asked. 

"You're finally awake," he sighed. "You fainted." 

He then passed you a packet of sugar and some water. "Drink this, I have nothing else to offer."

After a few minutes, you felt yourself recover a bit. It wasn't that bad, you're just too exhausted. 

"Let's go back," you said as you rose from the bed and walked towards the door.

"Look at this attention seeker," he scoffed.

"What the fuck are you saying again?! I just fainted!" you yelled back.

"That's right! You just fainted, and you want to go back in the mountains? For what? For our classmates to carry you and let them touch your body? Or for the teachers to give you extra credits for being a 'good girl'?" Soobin's brow furrowed as he raised his voice.

"What did you say?" You walked closer to him.

"That you're a slut, a whore, and an attention seeker. Simple as that."

Soobin smirked as he watched you dug your nails onto your palm again.

"What? Am I wrong?" 

Tears were threatening to fall from your eyes as you looked up to him with gritted teeth.

"You're... You're totally wrong..." you sniffled.

"Then show me you aren't like that," he says.

"W-what?" 

Soobin sat on the bed as he watched you. "Get on your knees for me," he smirked. "Show me you are not a teacher's fuck toy."

"Prove it, so I won't tell the class you soiled your pants last night," he finishes.

You didn't know what came over you. You just found yourself kneeled down between his legs as you tried your hardest to suck him.

Ahh! Fuck, why are you so f-fucking good!" Soobin threw his head back with one arm supporting his body and the other one holding his phone, trying to capture every moment.

"Look at you acting so modest at school, but here you are, giving someone head," he smirked, tugging a fistful of your hair, making you moan with his cock still inside your mouth.

"Shit!" He hissed through his teeth as he felt the pleasuring vibrations from your mouth.

You pulled away. "S-stop recording," you muttered.

"No, this is for the records. A proof that you aren't a teacher's pet," he grinned before guiding your head back to his cock.

"You're such a whore," he snickers as he zooms in to your face. "Fucking good, with this pretty face," he muttered.

He shoved your face down, practically fucking your throat, not giving a fuck at how you gagged. Then he pulled you away as he shot his cum on your face.

"Ohh fuck! Fuck! Ahh!" His body trembled as he finally came, his phone shaking in the process. 

Pressing the stop button, he tossed his phone on the bed and pulled you up on his lap, crashing his lips against yours as his hand wandered on your body, groping and squeezing any part.

"Need to be inside you, you slut," he whispered between the kisses.

"'m n-not," you whimpered. His hand finally settled on your waist, and he grinds you above him.

"Look how hard you make me," he said, his teeth grazing your neck.

"S-soobin... Stop... W-we shouldn't be doing—ahh...mpph.."  Your soft moans and whines are music to his ear.

"Shhh, be quiet for me, okay?" he said, giving your chin a kiss. He slips his hand under your skirt, pushing your underwear to the side.

"See? You're a total whore, y/n. You're wet."

Too embarrassed, you hide on his neck, hugging him closer. He easily lifted your hips and slid himself inside you with so much ease as you whimpered on his ear.

"T-this is w-wrong.. Ahh.. please..."

"Wrong?" he questioned, tilting your face to look behind you, only to be met with your own eyes. Soobin manhandled you with ease and turned you around instead. Your back flushed against his chest as he spread and held your legs up. 

"Watch how your hungry pussy suck my cock," he whispered to your ear as the both of you watched yourselves in the mirror. Your ears turned red out of embarrassment as you bit your lower lip, restraining yourself to moan.

"Be quiet, okay? The others are back," he said, kissing your ear. Your hands clasped over your mouth, the squelching sound was the only thing to be heard. 

"I love how dirty you are, fuck, you turn me on so much," he grunts, hitting deeper places inside you.

"B-bin..." you whined, tears rolling down your cheek. 

"S-something's g-gonna.... Ahhh... S-soobin, please..."

"You're close, doll? Cum on my cock, then," he smirks.

"N-no wait! Wait!" you squirmed, trying to get off of him, but he's too strong for you.

"S-soobin please w-wait---" Clear liquid gushed out of your pussy in a squirting manner because of his cock still deep inside you. Your body started twitching when he continued to fuck you relentlessly.

"Gonna fill you. 'M gonna fill you to the brim, fuck you're so fucking tight!" Soobin hides behind your neck as he finishes inside you, his grip on your thighs tightened.

"B-bin... I feel like... 'm gonna... F-faint..." Your body was slumped on his chest. He slowly pulls out of you, a glob of his cum coming out from your spent folds. He then laid you down on his bed again and lays beside you as he tucked the both of you to bed. 

The problem for tomorrow is for tomorrow. He's now on cloud nine, feeling so good as he lays beside his favorite girl crush.

@binniesbooks 2024

[seonghwaddict]

not just a distraction — park seonghwa

in which it’s too easy for the new literature professor to pick a favourite.

literature professor!park seonghwa x fem!reader. genre. fluff, angst. warnings. LEGAL teacher-student relationship, implies age-gap, an argument, suggestive, nickname (baby, angel, doll, princess). wc. 10.4k. rating. pg-13.

lilo’s notes. this is my comeback yessss~ anyways, this is part 1 of 2 because the next part will have some… fun activities >:) i hope you guys enjoy this, i’m sorry for being so inactive for the past month but i have lots for you guys to look forward to! excuse any errors i did not proofread this.

listening to. training wheels, melanie martinez / angel, kali uchis.

masterlist.

the first class of the new literature course at your campus garnered the attention of quite a few of the students from the arts department.

there was, of course, a literature class that existed before that one, though a few students had been unhappy with it since the introduction of more contemporary works. the classic masterpieces, they thought (including you), should not be bunched together with colleen hoover.

with enough pressure, the faculty were able to introduce a new course; classic literature. the few students unhappy with the initial course switched into this course instead, delighted by the fact they were allowed to keep their previous credits. a completely new teacher had been hired too, stirring anticipation. all you knew of him was his name, given in the description of the course when you signed up.

so you found yourself in one of the many lecture halls, around fifty others surrounding you. when you walked in, the new professor was at the long chalk board at the front, looking down at a book in his hand while the other wrote something down. you tried catching a glimpse of him, but his positioning faced him away.

but from what you could see, he was quite slender. his grey slacks, neatly ironed, were secured around his hips by a thin black leather belt. his white button up seemed a little large, though it complimented him well, tucked into his trousers with the sleeves rolled halfway up his arms elegantly—his blazer, a grey matching his slacks, shucked off and placed around the back of the chair at his desk. you could also see his hair was dark, a slight waviness to it, a little longer in the back.

finding the most convenient seat, you chose to sit in the left-most seat on the second row, next to a girl you recognised but couldn’t remember the name of even if you tried.

you catch a glimpse of professor park glancing down at his watch, prompting you to do the same. nine in the morning, on the dot.

“literature,” he starts, underlining the bold word on the chalkboard before turning around. and you nearly choke at the sight of his face.

he’s handsome, almost impossibly so, and a lot younger than all your other professores. dainty glasses sit atop the bridge of his nose, carefully placed strands of his hair framining his face as he begins pacing in front of the seats, making sure to look at each students individually.

“it’s many things, but at its core, it’s all about the manipulation of language. language, simply put, is food, nourishing literature. and so, with the intricacies of the art, literature becomes one of the sweetest passions known to man. because what is it if not love and hatred and disgust and every indescribable feeling thrown into a melting pot of prose.”

his voice is captivating, making you feel just a little lightheaded as you listen to his passion intently, all precise words and confidence as he paces, his hands clasped behind his back. you’re hanging off his every word, watching as he stops by his desk to place down the chalk.

it isn’t after a few moments that you realise you were admiring his hand, how it moves to elegantly. the way his fingers gently curl around the little white stick is almost artistic in itself.

he turns around, resting his hips against the edge of the mahogany desk behind him, legs crossed at his ankles and arms crossed over his chest. his eyes scan the room as he continues speaking, occasionally locking with yours. “is it not poetic? how morphemes, for example, or adjectives or conjunctions are the morsels of literature, small parts that are put together to create meaning? of course, something may be described in one word, but there’s something quite magical about being more metaphorical, more intimate.”

he catches you leaning forward in your chair slightly, a small smile tugging at his lips at how captivated you look before he schools his expression. but his focus is quickly redirected when another student raises his hand.

“yes?” professor park pushes himself off the desk, clasping his hands behind his back.

“professor,” he begins—you recognise him as a jock that calls himself dylan, but you know it’s not his real name and he’s probably here to fulfil a requirement to keep him on the volleyball team—his tone incredulous, “don’t you think all this romanticisation of literature is a bit dramatic? we don’t need fancy words to describe everything.”

professor park arches his eyebrow, a soft huff escaping his nose as he took steps in the direction of dyland’s seat. “dramatic? perhaps,” he nodded, eyes fixed on him, “however, as a literature professor, i enjoy the romanticisation of it. my job is to introduce others to the passion that is literature, and therefore i will romanticise it all i wish… what is your name?”

“it’s, uh, dylan?”

his eyebrow quirked once more as he gave the jock a once over, evaluating him. “i see… well, dylan, have you ever felt the rush of emotion when reading something truly spectacular? have you ever read a sentence and felt it like a punch in your chest or a sudden breath of fresh air?”

dylan’s opens his mouth to respond before he is interrupted with a raise if professor park’s palm. “think before you answer, please.”

you nearly laughed at his baffled look, never having seen him so silent, pondering the question for a moment before answering. “well, yes i have.” he answers honestly, earning a nod of approval.

“describe that feeling for me. can you find the correct words to explain the way you felt in that moment?”

dylan tries to explain it the best he can, but your teacher only shakes his head and clicks his tongue. “close, but no. see, it’s difficult putting into words such strong emotions no matter how many synonyms of ‘joyful’ you use.”

he turns away from him to address the rest of the class. “and that is the beauty of literature—it can be used to describe the most indescribable feeling, stringing together individually meaningless words to create something so much more.”

you smile at that, enjoying the link he made. your eyes meet for another moment, a split second that made heat rise to your cheeks under his perceptive gaze. but you blink and his pretty brown eyes are gone.

he takes a moment’s pause, glancing over at the clock in the room before finally addressing the rest of the class again. “i want an assignment from each of you by next class that demonstrates the true beauty of the language we know. it can be anything you feel like writing. a short story, a narrative, an essay, a poem,” his eyes flick over to land on you once again, “i want to see the feeling you want to convey in this written form. and i don’t just mean the happy feelings—get raw and descriptive. write something from the heart.”

the class is dismissed and you pack up your things, heading out but not before trying to catch another glimpse of him in the moving horde of students.

though you hadn’t noticed it, throughout the lecture his eyes lingered on you as well. of course, there were so many students for him to focus on, but none of them seemed quite as captivated as you. judging by the evident fascination on your face as he spoke, he knew you understood every word he said. unlike dylan, apparently.

the next class is on friday, four days away. you take that time or write the assignment. instead of writing a story or a poem, you decide on writing an essay. something where you can really write without the constraints of sticking to a plot. when you’re not in any of your other classes, you’re at your shared house, writing. and if your roommate is being too loud, you take the short bike ride to campus, sitting in your usual corner in the library, also writing.

by the time friday comes around, it’s ready and you’re happy with it, confident in your works as you walk into the lecture hall between some other students. you follow them as they stop at his desk, placing their papers on a stack of other turned in assignments, following suit before sitting at the same seat as last time; far left, second row. this time there’s more people sat at the front, whispering and giggling as they gaze at the professor.

he’s sat at his desk, a similar suit to last like on except a beige colour. his glasses are off and placed on the wooden desk, a book partially obscuring his face as he reads and waits for it to be nine on the dot.

he can vaguely hear the students talking amongst themselves as he reads, but he doesn’t pay it too much mind. it was normal. a lot of his students found him attractive, and that was clear just by the way they talked while he was around. after a while, he glances up at the time, noting it was almost time for class to begin.

he closes his book, setting it off to the side before standing up behind the desk. his hands clasp behind his back.

he glances around the room as more students trickle in and take their seats. he notices you at the second row almost immediately, and he can’t help the small smile that crosses his face. he lets his eyes roam over you for a second before he looks away, noticing the other students chattering in their seats. he clears his throat, loud enough to make them stop and look at him.

“good morning, class.” he says loudly, glancing around once more before resuming, “i’ll be looking over your assignments after class, but for today i’d alike to talk about some literary devices. i know this is classic literature and you’re all expecting to be reading classics, but some groundwork should be set before we jump into analyses. for example, can anyone tell me what a hyperbole is? any guesses?”

he scans the room, as if challenging one of the students to answer. the students in the class are quiet, no one wanting to take the challenge. he hums after a couple minutes and walks around to the front of the desk to lean against the edge of it.

“no one? how about you,” he suddenly says, nodding to you.

you blink, taken aback by the fact he chose you in the sea of fifty-something students. after clearing your throat, you simply say, “an exaggeration, sir.”

he gives a small nod of approval, a smile accompanying it. he expected you to know it, one of the most basic terms in the subject, but could he really be blamed if he just wanted to hear your lovely voice?

“that’s correct. a hyperbole is an exaggeration. it’s also a useful tool in literature to convey specific emotions. i’m sure you’ve come across sentences such as... ‘i could kill him’ or ‘i can’t believe it. this assignment was a literal death sentence.’” he adds the last part in a joking manner, and the few students in the room who were paying attention let out a quiet bout of snickers. he gives you one last small smile before moving on.

he spends the rest of the lesson talking about all sorts of techniques used to enhance literature and the effects they have on the readers. sibilance creates a smooth flow and double entendres are often used to amuse the reader.

nearing the end of the class, he instructs everyone to start on their reading of “the picture of dorian gray” by oscar wilde while he starts going through the turned in assignments. you pull out the book, having borrowed it from the library the other day. you’ve read it before, but it was entertaining enough for you to be willing to read it again, leaning back in your seat comfortably as you flip to the first page.

professor park gets through the first couple of assignments, grading them and adding comments here and there. he finds your essay on the third assignment, and glances up to look at you sitting at your seat, reading so serenely. he takes the time to look you over for a moment before his focus turns to your paper in his hand. he can’t help the slight curiosity as to what you have written, so he begins reading.

he can tell from the quality of the writing alone what kind of writer you were. not like the others, you weren’t rushing with each sentence. no, each word was well thought out, each word placed delicately in the paragraph. it was obvious you had taken the time to write it, and it was obvious that you enjoyed writing even before he finishes reading the introduction. there is passion in the way you laid out your paragraphs. the way it seems so effortless for such words to spill onto your pages.

he finds himself rereading some of the sentences and paragraphs, just to see the way you had worded things. the way you describe how literature can make a person feel could be compared to a piece of art itself. a smile tugs at his lips as he finished reading, having become completely entranced in what you had written. he wanted more, he wanted to read even more of your writing, see more of your passion, more of you. he had expected to have to read through mindless writing but instead he had been surprised by something actually worthwhile.

at the end, he writes a decently-sized comment, a perfect grade circled in his black ink right below.

as he dismisses the class, it takes you a moment to register his words and the people filing out of the hall around you. but once you do, you fold over the corner of the page you’re on and start packing away your items.

as the class is now empty, the only person left in the room besides himself is you. he watches from behind the desk as you pack up your things, noticing the slight hesitation in your movements when you glance towards him. he takes a moment to just watch you before speaking up, his voice firm and clear.

“stay a moment, if you don’t mind.”

you glance up at him before looking around, making sure he was speaking to you before you nod, taking the steps down from the second row to the first, standing at the end of the seats expectantly.

he picks up something from his desk before making his way over to you, his long legs carrying him effortlessly.

he studies your face for a moment, holding up the stapled stack of papers that were your essay. he takes in your features as he speaks, his tone softer now that you’re alone, “you enjoy literature, i take it?”

you glance at the papers before meeting his eyes again, heat rising to your face at the realisation that his full attention was on you. that he was standing so close, just a step away, looking down at you ever so slightly. you give him a nod.

he hums softly in acknowledgement, his eyes looking at your face curiously. he can see the flush of your cheeks clearly, the way you’re keeping your gaze averted from his for the most part.

he glances down at the paper in his hand, tapping it against his fingers gently before looking back at you.

“your assignment. i read it,” he starts, flipping through the pages absentmindedly to keep him from staring at you too long, “it’s quite well written, and i can see the care you put into the language of it. i enjoyed reading it.”

he watches as your eyes queen ever so slightly, a certain sparkle that does not go unnoticed by him; can see the gears turning in your head as you take in his words, your face growing to an endearing mix of shy and embarrassed. he couldn’t exactly pinpoint what he was feeling, couldn’t describe it in any way other than a bloom of warmth in his chest, akin to familiarity.

“oh, thank you, sir.” you smile at him lightly, having been worried you were in trouble and about to be in the receiving end of his scolding.

he hums again, still looking at your face. he can’t help the slight grin that forms on his face as he hears you call him ‘sir.’ he liked the sound of it coming from you. he glances down at the paper again before speaking again, holding the stack out to you.

“i should be thanking you, really. you seem to be the only one to have put some effort into it,” he gave you a soft smile before nodding towards the door, “you may go now, i’ll see you next class.”

you smile and nod, giving him a slight bow before straightening up again. “have a nice day, sir.” and with that you leave, making a beeline to leave campus since you didn’t have anything else to do for the day.

the next time you see him is on monday, in class. he teaches as usual, introducing some context for the book you’re all supposed to be reading. he doesn’t talk to you during the class, though occasionally his eyes find yours and you can’t help but think they soften ever so slightly.

soon enough, you pick up on the fact that you have a similar routine on wednesday evenings. usually, you stay in the campus library for a little longer on those days, whether it’s to read or to work. you like it then because there’s usually barely anyone there, the library big enough for the students that are there to disperse out of each other’s views.

you notice him on your way in, talking to the librarian with a stack of three or four books on the counter. but sometimes you’d see him at a table or couch, or browsing through the shelves. and each time you smile at the sight of him before making your way straight to the second floor, ducking between some bookshelves on the far end to sit in your usual seat.

this may be your favourite spot on campus, maybe the whole city. a little sofa tucked against a big window, two bookshelves—historical fiction—on either side hiding you from the prying eyes of your peers. at this time, the sunlight is just right, a copper glow feeding the two little plants on the windowsill and providing a warmth that felt like a blanket on a cold winter day. it wasn’t too bright, able to look outside without squinting your eyes, enough light to read comfortably. there’s also a little round table that you use to place your laptop on if you need to work, though often you push it aside, favouring to relax on the plush sofa against the soft pillow and get lost in the pages of whatever book you got your hands on.

he’s noticed you there before, on his way to pick up a book from the bibliography section, right next to the historical fiction section where you resided. he soon comes to notice your form among the bookshelves that he passes by, doing a double take before he forces himself to continue along his way. when he finishes the bibliography exactly a week later, he offers to bring it back to its previous spot; in reality, he just wanted to see whether or not you’d be there again.

and sure enough, you were. and he slows down in his movements, looking at the way you’re curled up comfortably in the sofa.

he finds himself watching you silently from a distance for a while, just watching you flip to the next page in your book as you lay comfortably against the pillow, to absorbed in the story to notice him. you look completely at ease there, he finds himself thinking. the sunlight from the window seems to caress your features softly, and a part of him wondered what it would be like to be the sunlight for once, to touch your skin so softly and admire the details of it.

he watches you for a while, taking in your expressions as you turn the pages, before deciding to make his presence known. he takes a step, his leather shoes clunking against the polished wooden floors, “mind if i join you?”

your eyes dart up at the sound of his voice, flinching as you were caught off guard. once his words process, you offer him a smile, nodding as you retract your feet from the sofa to make some space for him. “yeah, of course, professor.”

he smiles warmly at your reply, settling into the newly available space on the sofa. now sitting, he realizes just how small the space is. it’s a two seater, so he ends up sitting very close to you, his side pressed right up to the armrest to prevent from being pressed against you. he glances at your face, noting the small reaction you had when you weren’t expecting him to approach. cute.

he leans back a little to get comfortable on the sofa. it’s quiet between them for a moment, both of them looking outside or at their books. the silence isn’t awkward, he finds. in fact, he quite enjoyed it in such proximity to you. he turns his gaze to watch your face, studying you; the curve of your nose, your lips that are pulled into a frown ever so slightly as you concentrate. his gaze then flicks down, to your sweatpants-clad legs tucked under you on the sofa, and lower to the hand holding the book.

you sit together in silence for a while, reading your respective books. you can’t stop yourself from glancing up at him occasionally, however, just wanting to catch a glimpse of his soft hair or perfect plump lips or the slope of his neck.

but when the sun go too low and the lights too dim and you could barely keep your eyes open, you let out a soft yawn, stretching. he glances up, opening his mouth to say something before his throat suddenly feel to dry to produce any words, distracted by the arch of your back and the curves of your hips. you look so inviting.

“tired?” he manages to force out with a slight chuckle, watching you slump back into your seat. he has the urge to brush away the stray hairs that fall over your cheeks.

you glance at him, nodding as you pull yourself off the couch for one last stretch before gathering your stuff and facing him. “i should probably head home,” you mutter.

“alright,” he pushes himself off the couch, closing his book, “i’ll walk you out.”

too tired to argue and insist he didn’t have to, you just nod, turning on your heels to walk out of the shelves, waiting at the end for him. the walk is silent, holding your breath and heart thumping in your chest each time his fingers brush against the back of your hand as you walk side by side.

this became a new routine. every wednesday, you’d find him or he’d find you, sitting in the little brown leather couch. and you’d stay there together for a while, talking or laughing or working or reading. there was no longer an awkward space separating the two of you, happily resting against each other, far from worried that anyone would see.

neither of you mentioned it, but it was the elephant in the room. you didn’t know what to call it, whatever was happening between you. but it felt good, it made you want to cling to his shirt and bury your face into the warm curve of his neck and never let go. but you couldn’t, no matter how much either of you wanted to.

and as the lines between professor and student blurred, you found yourself looking forward to your wednesdays with him.

and so did he. still, he often thought about how he behaved around you, like it was a secret meant for him and you and you and him.

the way he would find himself sitting closer and closer to you. the way he’d find his gaze lingering on you for too long. the way his mind would wander on how it would feel to run his fingers through your hair, trails them along your thighs. oh, how badly he wants to feel your skin against his own. the idea of what he was doing was dangerous, foolish for someone of his position.

but it’s hard to care when you’re right there next to him, in the soft light that makes your skin glow, your face relaxed and content as you read beside him.

one particular friday evening, it’s pouring, and you’re standing outside under where the roof of the humanities building entrance protruded, protecting me from the rain. this morning you had decided to walk to school instead taking the bike, though you suppose it wouldn’t have been much better with a bike.

your shoes are already wet from the puddle you had accidentally stepped into on your way out, your clothes soaked from having walked into the rain for a minutes as you hug your messenger bag close to your chest.

he’s on his way to his car when he spots you standing by the doorway, and he frowns as he notices you, soaked from the rain that pours mercilessly. he glances around, noticing the lack of anyone nearby thanks to the weather, before making his way towards you.

he stops a few steps in front of you, opening his umbrella to block the rain above both of you. "what are you doing standing out in the rain?"

“i walked to school this morning,” you look from him to the pouring rain, just a step away, “didn’t check the weather.”

he takes you in for a moment, taking in the way your clothes are sticking to you, your hair slightly damp. a small part of him found it quite adorable to see you like this.

"you’re soaked," he says, his voice firm and concerned, "you’re going to get sick like this." as if on cue, a shiver racks through your body. he notices, his expression softening as he takes a step closer, offering his free hand. “come on, i’ll drive you home.”

“oh, you really don’t have to,” you smile at him, grateful at his offer, worried about getting his car wet with your clothes, “i can just wait here until the rain stops.”

his eyes narrow slightly, taking your wrist lightly. "don’t be ridiculous," he scolds, "you’ll freeze to death if i leave you here."

you blink at him, not used to being on the receiving end of his firm tone. his concern making the corners of your lips tug up, you sighed softly, nodding, “alright, lead the way.”

a small smirk pulls at his lips as he watches you relent, giving in to his words. he steps to your side, releasing your wrist and putting a hand on the small of your back to guide you towards the parking lot.

he pulls a tissue from his pocket, unfolding it and using it to gently pat your face. you giggle softly at his attempts to dry your face, reaching one of your hands up to take the handkerchief, your fingers brushing against each other before you dry your face yourself, your other hand helping him hold the umbrella in the strong wind, hand a little lower than his on the handle.

he looks at you with a small smile as his hand rests on the umbrella’s handle, moving to cover yours. his hand is a little bigger and warmer than yours. but as he guides you further towards the parking lot, he notices you shivering again, the cold air starting to get to you.

"if you get a cold, it’s your fault." he teases slightly, pulling you closer to his side, making you stumble a little before you regain your footing.

“oh no, i won’t be able to attend your 9 am lecture on monday, whatever will i do?” you gasp dramatically, holding back a laugh as you joke around, instinctively glancing around in case anyone saw. but everyone was gone, rushing home in the midst of the downpour.

he lets out a low laugh at your dramatic response, rolling his eyes playfully at you.

"stop that," he chastises, his hand on your waist keeping you from falling. it was hard to miss the nervous looks your threw around, and he knew exactly why.

“hm?” you glance up at him as he stops in front of what you assume is his car. it’s a black mercedes, sleek and modern. you clasp your hands behind your back, tilting your head, “no idea what you’re talking about.”

he pushes open the passenger door of his car, gesturing for you to get in. he shakes his head slightly with a scoff, his gaze raking down your figure for just a moment.

“sure you don’t,” he says in a slightly teasing tone, “just get in the car, angel.”

you blush lightly at the nickname but shake your thoughts away, looking down at the leather passengers seat before looking up at him again “but i’ll get your seat wet and mess it up.”

it takes him a moment to process your words, distracted by how the flush of your cheeks makes you look even lovelier. the thought that he was able to make you blush like that because of a simple nickname makes him bite back a giddy smile.

he shakes his head. “i’ll take my chances. just get in, you’re shivering.”

you don’t move for a moment, weighing your options; get his seat a little wet, or walk in the rain. deciding the former is obviously the better choice, you thank him silently as you slip into the passenger seat, securing your seatbelt after resting your bag in your lap

he shuts the door behind you and circles the car, walking to the driver’s side. his steps are a little rushed, eager to get out of the rain and into the warmth of the car.

he gets in the car, pulling the door shut behind him before he looks over at you. you sit quietly, your head down and hands in your lap.

it’s silent for a brief moment before he speaks up. “i’m gonna need your address, you know.”

“oh, right.” you hum, leaning forward to the screen on the dashboard to type in your address. it takes some effort, your muscles mostly focused on your legs as you try not to seat my full weight in an attempt to not ruin his seat despite what he said earlier.

he says absolutely nothing, his gaze glued to the arch of your back. he swallows hard, clenching his jaw as he keeps his eyes trained on you, fighting the urge to reach a hand and touch you.

he clears his throat, “just lean back into the seat.”

before you can protest, he’s pushing down on your thigh until you’re fully seated. you give him a playful glare as you finish typing the address. it’s just over a five-minute drive, while walking in this weather would’ve taken you nearly twenty.

he looks at you with a chuckle, his hand still on your thigh, giving it a slight squeeze.

“now that wasn’t so hard, was it?” he jokes, giving your thigh a tap before pulling his hand away, turning the ignition on and pulling out of the parking space.

the drive to your place is quiet except for the sound of the rain outside. he has the heat on full blast to keep you warm. every now and then he glances at you out of the corner of his eye.

the heat makes you shudder, holding your fingers up to the air to warm them up a bit.

he can’t help as his mind thinks of how cute you look, all bundled up with your bag in your lap. and the urge to touch you, god, the urge to run his fingers through your hair.

“we’re almost there, don’t worry,” he mutters as he tears his gaze away from you.

“hey, um,” you start after a few moments of silence, glancing at him, “if you want, you can come up and we could have some coffee or tea or something together. if my roommate doesn’t mind, which she probably won’t, she’s really nice so i wouldn’t worry. but you don’t have to if you don’t want to! i just, uh, wanna thank you properly… for this.”

he watches with a fond smile as you ramble, stopping at a red light. he’s about to accept the offer, tell you that he’d love to, but the realisation of your roommate being there changes things, his expression turning solemn.

“i don’t think that’s a good idea…” he mumbles, avoiding your piercing eyes.

your brows furrow ever so slightly, a frown threatening to override your features. “why not?”

he swallows, pulling over in front of the address you had typed into the gps.

“i’m your professor,” he starts, his tone firm, “it would be unprofessional if we’re caught.”

he hopes you can’t notice the way he’s gripping the steering wheel a little tighter than necessary.

“that hasn’t stopped you so far, though,” you muse, chuckling lightly despite your confusion of his suddenly change in sentiments, trying to ease the tension.

“but don’t you think it’s a bit suspicious that we’ve been sitting together in the library every week, completely hidden away?” he mutters, “if someone saw us, someone who didn’t know, it would look bad. this could be worse.”

“i thought you liked being there with me…” his words get to you this time, actually frowning as you turn to look out the window instead of at him, noticing you were in front of your house.

shit.

he mentally berates himself upon noticing the slight change in your expression, realizing with a pang of guilt that his words bothered you, having come out the wrong way.

“oh, angel,” he starts, letting go of the steering wheel. his hand reaches for you, and before he can stop himself, it’s cradling your face.

“i do. i like being with you there,” he sighs, gently pulling your face to make you look at him, his thumb caressing your cheek. “you have no idea how much i enjoy it.”

his touch on your face feels warm, and his words even warmer as his directs you to look at him. you don’t say anything.

he’s not used to this, to you being quiet and still. he’s too used to your carefree self being full of jokes and laughter. he doesn’t like you like this, looking at him with disappointment written on your face.

“what i meant is,” he murmurs, the pad of his thumb moving across your cheek to your chin, tilting your head up so your eyes meet his, “i’m just worried about your roommate.”

“i like spending time with you, princess,” he continues, his tone firmer this time, “i like it a lot, alright?”

your frown eases at his words, nodding as you answer in a whisper, “okay.”

he lets out a small sigh of relief, his fingers tracing down from your chin to the side of your neck, and then your collarbone. he gently caresses your skin with the lightest of touch, letting the pad of his fingertip graze your skin.

he tries to ignore the voice in the back of his mind telling him to tug you across the console and kiss you. he shouldn’t.

he shakes himself out of his thoughts, pulling his hand away reluctantly. glancing out the window, he sees your place right in front of him.

“we’re here,” he murmurs, looking back at you. his gaze softens when he sees the remnants of the frown still on your face, and his hand gently reaches out to give your thigh a light squeeze.

“come on,” he says quietly, “let’s go.”

you look out the window before nodding, unbuckling and stepping out, walking to your front door as he accompanies you with an umbrella. you rummage around in your bag, trying to find the keys. groaning as you realise you were in such a rush this morning you must’ve forgotten them in the bowl where you and your roommate place your keys so you don’t lose them. with a sigh, you ring the doorbell, waiting for her to answer.

but she never comes. and that’s when you realise she had the late shift at work today. you groan, frustrated as you thump your forehead against the wooden door.

great, he thinks to himself as he watches you struggle trying to get inside. and then you turn around, with a frustrated sigh, and a thump of the door.

he can’t help but feel like the world is against him. the universe wants to punish him, to test his limits.

he bites the inside of his cheek, watching you and listening to you as you mutter about your locked door.

“i don’t have my keys, my roommate isn’t home,” you explain, kicking the door light before burying your face in your hands, your voice a little muffled, “oh, i’m so sorry, hwa.”

he stands there, watching you explain your situation, and he fights back a smile at your last sentence.

hwa*.*

he likes it when you call him that. spending three months growing closer, you’ve evidently given each other little nicknames.

he glances over at the parked car behind him, before back at you. “do you need a place to stay?” he asks, trying to keep his tone neutral again.

“i don’t wanna bother you too much,” you shake your head, running your hands over your face “please, i can just wait here for her to get back.”

he doesn’t like how you’re trying to push him away. frowning, watching you as you shake your head and run your hands over your face in defeat. he closes the distance between you, taking hold of your wrists and pulling your hand away from your face gently.

“it’s pouring,” he reminds you, “your clothes are soaking wet. and you think you can just sit here on the front porch until your roommate comes back?”

“i don’t want to inconvenience you any more,” you murmur, your hands relaxing as he pulls your wrists away from your face.

his chest tightens at your words, at how stubborn you’re being. he sighs.

“you’re not inconveniencing me,” he insists, “i’d feel better knowing you’re inside with dry clothes and a warm drink than out here soaked to the bone.”

you contemplate his offer for a moment before sighing, nodding, “okay, if you insist.”

his heart nearly skips a beat at your agreement, and it takes all his willpower not to visibly show the relief that washes over him.

he tightens his hold on your wrist for a moment, before gently guiding you back to his car. he opens the passenger door for you, waiting until you get in before he shuts the door and circles around to the driver’s side.

he starts the ignition again, the warm air blasting through the vents yet again. you hold your hands in front of the hot air again, glancing over as you hear his door open and close as he slips. “in is it a long drive?”

he lets out a scoff, looking over to you with a teasing smile. “it’s a whole two minute drive. i’ll try not to bore you too much.”

he turns back to the window, pulling out of the parking spot. the rain starts again, and the sound of it pounds against window before he turns on the wipers.

“oh dear me, i can already feel myself falling asleep,” you slump your head back and pretend to snore, back to being playful.

he turns to look at you, watching your dramatics with a fond grin. “shut up, you,” he says, reaching out to pinch your side gently.

you giggle as he pinches your side, opening your eyes again to look out the window, watching buildings and cars glide past as he drives smoothly. true to his word, just a few minutes later he’s pulling into the underground parking lot of an apartment building.

he parks in front of a spot numbered ‘407’, cutting the ignition as soon as he does.

he glances at you briefly before nodding almost to himself.

“come on,” he says with a jerk of his chin, gesturing for you to follow as he gets out of the car.

his longer strides have him walking faster than usual, and it takes him a conscious effort to slow down for you to keep up.

he presses the ‘up’ button and the elevator doors part within seconds. he steps into the elevator, holding the door open for you to enter.

it’s a silent ride up. his mind is racing, though he doesn’t show it outwardly. his hands are in his pocket, and he keeps his eyes trained on the blinking numbers signifying each floor.

the elevator dings and the doors open and he steps out without looking back to see if you’re following, striding down the hallway, making a turn to a door marked ‘407’.

he fishes for his keys in his pocket, pulling them out before unlocking and opening the door as you look around the empty hallway, your gaze lingering on the mass-produced paintings hanging on the wall that he knows can be seen on every other floor of this building.

the apartment is spacious, with plenty of open floor space for the front room. the color scheme is simple and neat, with a large armchair and a small couch that sits in front of a flat screen tv, as well as a wooden coffee table.

he steps in, taking a moment to kick his shoes off and set his stuff down. he looks over his shoulder, watching you step into the apartment as he places his umbrella in the umbrella rack and hangs up his coat.

you grimace as your shoes squelch when you step in, muttering apologies as you take them off and leave them outside of the door in the hallway instead, not wanting to mess up his flooring.

he raises an eyebrow, watching you as you leave your wet shoes in the hall. he’s about to say something when he’s interrupted by the sound of a small meow.

a ball of black fur appears at his feet, nuzzling against his ankle, and he smiles, scooping the cat into his arms without a word.

he scratches behind the cat's ears as it purrs in his arms, the sound of its soft mews filling the room. he can see a hint of confusion on your face, watching the cat with interest as he holds it, its front paws resting on his chest.

"his name is kuma," he explains, bringing the cat up to his face and letting it rub against his cheek.

you nearly melt at the sight, stepping into the house with wet socks as you coo at the cat, the front door falling shut behind you automatically. “i didn’t know you have a cat.”

he has to physically stop himself from grinning as you nearly swoon at the sight of his cat, covering up his smile with a cough. he shakes his head, lowering the cat gently to the floor. it runs over in your direction, nuzzling against your ankles much like it did to him moments ago, before disappearing down the hallway into the heart of the apartment.

"i got him a couple months back," he says, taking in the sight of your soaked clothes once more. he lets out a sigh, tilting his head toward the hall.

he glances down at your feet, eyeing your soaked socks, before looking back up to your face.

"you can shower if you'd like. I can lend you some clothes to change into," he says, pointing down the hall toward the bedroom.

“oh, yes please,” you nod, relieved that he offered instead of you having to ask.

he nods and starts down the hallway, motioning for you to follow him. as you follow, you look around. just like his car, the design of his apartment is sleek and modern, glowing in warmth as he uses a variety of floor lamps and shelf lamps to light up the interior instead of headache-inducing overhead lights. the furniture and walls are light in colour, a variety of whites and beiges.

it’s an open floor plan, the kitchen and living grouped together, separated by a counter island and some stools. the countertops of the kitchen have a glossy white finish, everything clean. a narrow hallway leads to some three doors, which you assume are his bedroom, a bathroom, and guest bedroom or office.

he stops first in front of a door, where the cat lies on the floor, tail flicking back and forth. he bends down to pet the cat briefly.

"that's the bathroom. the towels are in there. I'm just going to grab some clothes for you," he says, giving you a quick glance before striding away toward the bedroom.

your eyes follow him as he walks away, before letting out a soft yelp at the feeling of something furry wrapping around your ankle. looking down, you realise it’s kuma, giggling as you crouch down to pet him.

he returns a few moments later, taking a moment to watch as you play with his cat so nicely before clearing his throat, making you stand back up as he hands you the stack of clothes.

“feel free to use whatever you need in there,” he nods towards the bathroom door, “you can leave your clothes in the basket, i’ll put them in the laundry later.”

“thank you, hwa.” you grin at him, accepting the clothing before disappearing into the bathroom, locking the door behind you.

you shower with warm water, relaxing every muscle in your body as you wash off the rain. without any other choices, you’re left to use his shampoo. it smells of him, a deep vanilla. when you finish, you dry off and change into the clothes he brought, using your own previous undergarments as he obviously didn’t have those on hand.

the clothes are quite large on you, hanging off your body as you tighten the string of the sweatpants. you pat your hair partially dry with the towel before tossing everything in the laundry basket, stepping out to go to the living room.

only to see he wasn’t there. shrugging, you figure he’ll return soon as you flop onto the couch, kuma coming to sit with you after a moment. you sprawl out a bit as you realise just how spacious the couch is, the cat padding all over your body, playing with the drawstrings of the hoodie he gave you before curling up on your stomach.

meanwhile, he’s in the shower of his bedroom’s en-suite bathroom attempting to get himself together, both physically and mentally. the water feels amazing on his skin as it beats down on him, and he tries to relax his muscles as he lathers shampoo in his hair.

but his mind keeps going back to you, and how you’re probably already in his living room.

wearing his clothes.

he sighs, leaning his head against the shower wall as he tries to push those thoughts out of his mind. he stands there for what feels like hours, letting the hot water hit his skin before shutting off the shower and stepping out. he dries himself off, quickly drying his hair enough so that it’s not dripping all over his floor before he getting in record time, pulling on an old pair of sweats and a loose black shirt.

he takes another deep breath, opening the bathroom door as he ruffles his damp hair. he starts to make his way toward the living room, hoping that you’re just as nervous as he is.

he turns the corner and enters the living room, nearly freezing in his place at the sight of you sitting on the couch with kuma. you look good. comfortable.

by the time he makes it back, you’d be kuma are no longer sitting calmly, practically rolling around on the couch as you try to get away from the playful punches of his paws. he feels his heart flutter at the sight and the sound of your laughter.

there’s just something about seeing you getting along with his cat that makes his heart nearly skip a beat. he silently watches from the hall for a moment, just gazing at the two of you playing together before clearing his throat to make his presence known.

you look up at the sound, grinning at him stupidly. you glance at his clothes, noting that he’s wearing comfortable clothes now rather than his usual suits. “oh, hey,” you say between giggles as kuma continues to jump all over you.

his heart stutters at the sight of your grins and the sound of your giggles, at the joyful look on your face. he swallows, forcing his arms to cross over his chest to keep himself from reaching out and pulling you against him.

trying to appear nonchalant even though he’s having a hard time doing so, he walks over to the couch, standing at the end of the coffee table and looking down at you.

“seems like you’re having fun together,” he remarks with a slight nod towards kuma.

“uh huh,” you nod before squealing, covering your face as kuma’s paws swat against your cheek, attacking you, your stomach hurting from laughing.

he lets out a scoff, watching kuma pawing at you and your failed attempts to shield your face from the attacks. he can’t help but let a small smile settle on his face, his heart fluttering again at the sight of you two.

“he’s playing rough,” he comments with a smile, walking to the couch and plopping down beside you.

you crawl over to his other side, hiding your face under his arms as kuma chases, “help me, hwa.”

his heart skips a beat as you hide under his arm, ducking away from the harmless kitten. he can’t help but laugh, finding the situation both endearing and adorable.

“I think you can handle kuma, doll,” he teases, grinning down at you as you continue to use him as a human shield.

“he’s a beast,” you try to sound serious, your voice muffled against his sleeve as kuma starts attacking him instead.

“he’s not that bad,” he teases, grabbing the cat by his little body and lifting him up in front of his face, “see? look at this face. he’s not even one bit menacing.”

“that’s the face of evil!” you exclaim, sitting up and placing the back of your hand on your forehead to fall into his lap dramatically, feigning death, my body draped over his thighs faced down.

he looks down at you as you go limp against him, and he can’t help but laugh at your antics.

“don’t be so dramatic,” he grins. he lets kuma go, watching as he climbs down your combined bodies to muzzle against your cheek before moving away to curl up in his usual spot in the corner of the couch. “i think he’s gonna end up liking you more than me.”

“good,” you hum, closing your eyes and relaxing in his lap, forearm under your chin so it doesn’t dig into his legs.

he rolls his eyes jokingly, resting his hand on your back and tracing down your spine, “very funny.”

you chuckle at his response, sighing softly, content where you are. in the privacy of his home, you’re not scared of being affectionate, especially not as his hand traces down to rest against the small of your back, eliciting a faint shudder.

his heart hammers in his chest as his hand trails further down to the back of your thigh, the feeling of your plump flesh beneath the fabric, under his touch igniting something in him. he has to remind himself to breathe, trying to control the rush of blood that is steadily flowing downward.

enjoying the feeling of his hand kneading the back of your thigh, you go a little silent before turning to look up at him, a question that’s been balancing on the top of my tongue for three months finally spilling out.

“hwa… what exactly are we? what is this?” you point between the two of you as you mutter the question.

his hand freezes the second he hears it. he’s been avoiding that question since the two of your really started seeing each other every wednesday months ago, but he knows he can’t anymore. not when it’s thrown straight at his face.

he takes a deep breath, avoiding your gaze for a moment. he lets the silence sit for a few more seconds as he considers his answer, then looks down at you.

“i don’t know,” he mutters, his hand moving to rest on your waist, “i’ve been asking myself the same thing.”

“well, what is this to you then?” you ask softly, sitting up to be eye level with him, kneeling beside him.

the question sounds more demanding coming from you face to face, eye to eye, and his heart is beating fast enough that he fears you can hear it. he swallows, looking into your eyes.

“a distraction,” he mutters, his gaze flitting to your lips for a moment before going back to your eyes, preparing his next words.

but before he can continue, you visibly deflate at his answer, sitting back as i nod. a distraction. “i see,” you tear your gaze away from him, getting up, making his hand drop from you, “i’m gonna go to bed, wheres the guest room?”

he feels his heart twist at the sight of you leaving his touch, a dejected look on your face.

he’s never seen you back off so quickly before. not like this. he watches you get up and stand over him, a step too far for him to reach for you agajn, his heart tightening in his chest.

“wait, doll-“ he starts, reaching out to take your hand.

“what? you said what you said.”

“i didn’t mean it like that,” he mutters, his tone firmer. he stands up from the couch, towering over you. he holds a hand out to you. “come here, please.”

“then how else could you possibly mean it,” you scoff lightly, eying his hand but not taking it.

“listen, doll,” he mutters, holding back a huff of frustration. “you can’t seriously think that I would call this a distraction,” he gestures between the two of you. “a distraction. you really think that you are just a distraction to me?”

“well is that not what you said?” you mutter, trying to prevent your lips from trembling as a lump latches itself onto your throat.

he lets out a sigh, running a hand through his hair. he reaches out and grabs your wrist, tugging you closer to him. he can feel the tension in your body, and he hates it. he hates himself for causing it.

“you didn’t let me finish. i didn’t mean it like that,” he mutters, looking directly into your eyes, resting your hands in his chest. “you’re not just some random, meaningless distraction to me.”

your fingers flex slightly as he holds them up to his chest, right over his heart, “then tell me how you really feel about me if i’m not a distraction”

he looks into your eyes, holding onto your wrists firmly but gently, his thumbs rubbing against your skin, the inside of your wrists.

he’s never seen you like this before. this vulnerable and open in front of him. he can feel the tension in your body, the stiffness in your shoulders and the tightness in your jaw.

he wants to smooth out those frowning lines on your face, erase that look of uncertainty in your eyes.

“you’re more than just a distraction to me,” he mutters. “you’re an obsession. you’re all i think about, doll. i think about you constantly. i don’t know how else to describe it other than an obsession,” he continues, his voice getting softer as he speaks. “i can’t shake you. you’ve gotten in my head and you’ve been living in there rent free for months and you refuse to get out. even when i try to ignore you,” he lets out a scoff, looking into your eyes, “even when i pretend to ignore you, you’re still there. you don’t leave my mind.”

his heart races as the words spill out of his mouth, like there’s a dam bursting inside of him. the feelings that he’s been bottling up for months finally coming out, and he doesn’t want to stop, letting those words tumble out and onto you. he can see that you’re listening intently, that you’re listening intently as his grip on your wrists tightens, almost as if he’s scared that you’re going to run away from him.

“you’ve got me so distracted i can barely focus on anything that doesn’t involve you,” he admits in a low voice, glancing down at your wrists. “i can’t even teach my own goddamn class without thinking about you.”

you’re speechless, even as he finishes, staring up at him with wide dumbfounded eyes, feeling his hammering heart beneath your fingertips just as how he feels yours under his as his thumbs continue to rub the inside of your wrists.

you suppose you can always rely on a literature professor for an extravagant, dramatic confession.

he continues to hold onto you. he’s never seen you this speechless and dumbfounded before, and he’s torn between how good it feels to see you like this and how bad it things could go now that his feelings were out.

he swallows, looking down at your wrists. he can feel your pulse point under his thumb. “say something, angel,” he murmurs, a pleading tone in his voice.

instead, you pull your hands out of his grip to wrap them around his neck, pulling him down, placing your lips against his urgently, your eyes falling shut.

his heart hammers in his chest as he kisses you back, his hands gripping your waist and pulling you against him, his fingers curling into your hoodie. he wants to kiss you forever, wants to make up for all those months of holding back, but his lungs are burning from the lack of air and he’s forced to pull away to breathe.

he lets out a sigh, his forehead falling to the crown of your head. his hands stay on you, still holding you against him. he can still feel your heart racing against his chest.

“that was your idea of saying something?”

“uh huh,” you hum, chuckling softly as you thread your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck, mind full of him. seonghwa, seonghwa, seonghwa.

he closes his eyes as he feels your fingers, enjoying the feeling of your fingertips against his scalp. he still has his arms around you, unwilling to let go yet. he leans down just enough to press a kiss to your temple, his lips brushing softly against your skin.

“but seriously,” you snicker, pulling away from him a little “i am kinda tired, wheres the guest bed?”

he almost lets out a whine when you pull away from him, opening his eyes reluctantly. he looks down at you, a frown on his face.

“you’re really gonna go sleep by yourself?” he mutters, an almost petulant tone in his voice as he quirks his brow.

“is that not what i’m supposed to do?“

“you really think i’m going to let you sleep alone after… that? come on now, you’re not that dense.”

“i know, i just wanted you to say it,” you giggle after a moment, grinning up at him as you lean down to scoop up kuma from the couch.

he lets out a scoff, rolling his eyes, but he’s unable to hide the small smile of his own. he reaches out and ruffles your hair, letting out a scoff. “you’re insufferable.”

“and you just said you’re obsessed with me,” you shrug, kissing his cheek as his hand find the small of your back, leading you don’t the hallway, “where does the kitty sleep?”

he looks down at kuma, still curled up in your arms, practically purring himself to death. “baby, he’s a cat. he’ll sleep wherever he wants.”

you snort, setting him down on a little armchair in the corner of his room, next to some bookshelves stacked with books upon books, and more books. you lean down to pet him a few more times as seonghwa watches you with a fond smile.

he watches you as he sits on the bed, his heart clenching at how good you look in his bedroom. it feels almost surreal, having you here in his home. he pats the spot next to him.

“get over here, baby.”

networks. @cromernet @cultofdionysusnet @wonderlandnet @atzhouse

permanent taglist. @ad0rechuu @sankatchu @mlink64 @yeosangsbb @seonghwasbbgirl

@likexaxdaydream @dreamingofyeo @yalyallic @yunhoswrldddd

@coffee-addict-kitten @thunderous-wolf @chngbnwf @okdudeiime

[seravphs]

ੈ♡˳·˖✶ — ITOSHI SAE x FEM READER

Sae might have rethought putting a ring on your finger if he knew husband duties included losing sleep to your overactive imagination. 

wc — 500

tags — married au 

“Can you stop squirming?” 

Sae’s annoyed with you, but you can’t help it. You’re not normally afraid of the dark, but sometimes your mind plays tricks on you. 

Around you, the night stretches on like a kitten, soft and velvet. Your eyes have long adjusted to the dark, but your room is poorly designed. Inky shadows collect in every corner, crated by awkwardly shaped shelves and random divots in the wall. 

Like any normal, well-adjusted adult, you have no problem being in darkness. Just a few hours before, you ran a load of laundry without turning the lights on because you didn’t feel like it. But as you’re trying to fall asleep, your idle mind grows restless. 

It starts whispering the kinds of things that make you pull your feet away from the edge of the bed and shrink towards Sae’s comforting, warm body. 

“If you keep this up, I’m going to get my own bedroom,” he tells you. 

You both know it’s an empty threat. How could it not be when you wake up to his arms around you every morning? 

Still, it’s not nice of him to say that, and you let him know. 

“Don’t be mean, I’m scared!” Your grumbling is childish, but there are certain indulgences you’re allowed. 

“You’re too old for this,” he sighs, exasperated, but he lifts his arm so you can tuck in closer along his body. 

Just then, you feel something brush along your leg. You barely stifle a shriek as you forcefully push your body into Sae’s. It’s a hard collision that would knock the breath out of him if he wasn’t a professional soccer player. As it is, he makes a sound of discomfort when your elbow bumps into him. 

Up until now, you’ve been facing outwards, keeping an eye out for anything that might roam in the dark. At this moment, you peek out from under your covers, turning to look at Sae.

His face is entirely unamused. 

You try for a sweet smile, hoping he’ll relent and forgive you as he usually does. To his credit, he only cracks after he forces you to endure a prolonged, awkward stare-off. Then he groans, pinches his nose, and bodily drags you closer so you’re all but on top of him. 

Your head rests against his shoulder as he wraps his arm around you, tucking you into the line of his body. Your legs tangle with his. 

“That better?” He says. “Nothing’s going to get you while I’m here.” 

“Now that you mention it,” you say jokingly, “you are a big, strong football player.” 

A peek at his face reveals what you already suspected. Sae’s cool exterior is hard to crack, but he’s always weak to compliments from his wife. He’s fighting a smile that’s apparent anyway, or perhaps you’re just good at reading him. 

“But you’ve trapped my legs,” you complain. “How am I going to run away if anything happens?” 

“Oh my god-“ Sae shoves a hand over your mouth and muffles any further commentary. “Go to sleep.”

[kaidasdesires]

"You should be scared."

☾ pairing: dom! incubus yeonjun x sub! human afab reader

☾ rating: 18+ explicit and mature content, smut and angst

☾ wc: 6.9k

☾ content warnings: somnophilia, yeonjun is a demon/incubus, dubious consent into full consent as the story progresses, shape-shifting, choking, hair pulling, yeonjun has a knot ♡, mentions of killing and death, knife/blood play if you squint, pet names, cursing, reader almost dies, slight size kink, yeonjun cries

TRIGGER WARNING: Some scenes may be triggering for survivors of SA. Please read at your own risk.

☾ summary: y/n meets Yeonjun at a club and goes home with him. Yeonjun is an incubus that has to have sex and cum to stay alive but if he's not careful he could kill his victims. including y/n.

One of these days you would stop going out on the weekdays but you found that going to the club kept a lot of negativity and anxiety off your mind when things were stressful. You had a few drinks and could already feel yourself getting a bit tipsy but that didn’t stop you from having a good time. You were sitting at the bar when your friend Wooyoung (obviously wasted) pulled on your arm.

“Y/n, come on.~ Come dance with me!” He whined, giving you his best puppy eyes. Wooyoung usually went with you wherever, but he would never turn down an opportunity to get drunk.

“For fucks sake Wooyoung” you laughed, “how are you this drunk already?” 

“I don't know what you're talking about.” He smiled, poorly feigning innocence.

You shook your head in disbelief before following him onto the dance floor anyway. You danced with him despite his unsteady feet. You danced with him for a while, all your worries fading into nothingness as the music and movement melted away the tension from your body. Or at least that’s how it was until Wooyoung lost his balance and fell into you.

You stumbled backward running into other bodies on your way down. It wouldn’t have been as bad, but as soon as your butt hit the ground, you felt like it was raining. Lukewarm, sticky, smelly rain. Someone had spilled their alcohol on you as a result of you knocking into them. You heard cussing above you but when you looked up Wooyoung was nowhere to be found.

 “Hah. Of course, he's gone.” You scoffed shaking your head before bracing yourself to get up and also to face the embarrassment of the situation you were in.

“You okay?” You heard from above you. The deep voice sent a chill down your spine. You looked back up, meeting the brown eyes of a boy you’d never seen before. You felt your cheeks become rosy as you looked over his features. Brown eyes that seemed to have a hint of red to them, messy black hair that was a little bit sweaty. He was wearing a white button-up tucked into his pants with a few buttons undone, exposing his collar bones, and black dress pants with a skinny belt. Not to mention the smirk plastered on his face as he watched you stare at him. He waited for you to respond with his hand outstretched. 

“Oh, thank you. Sorry if I hit you.” You said quietly, taking his hand. You were surprised by how gentle he was as he helped you up. He smiled down at you and your heart clenched. He was a good bit taller than you, and his hands were so much bigger than yours. Not to mention how incredibly handsome he was.

“You didn’t. But I saw your friend run off, so I figured you’d need some company now.” He chuckled. “What’s your name?” The boy asked his gentle eyes looking you up and down. 

“I'm y/n,” you responded. Typically you didn't give random boys the time of day, but this one had piqued your interest. Something about his aura maybe? 

“Nice to meet you, y/n. I'm Yeonjun.” he paused before continuing, motioning to your clothes, “You are covered in someone else's beer, can I take you to get some fresh clothes?” 

You had somehow forgotten that you were covered in alcohol. Now the stickiness was a lot more obvious. “Oh…” you hesitated. Yeonjun however didn’t give you time to think before chuckling, grabbing your hand and pulling you out of the crowd and towards the door. Normally you would be pulling away, but there was something about this boy that was… magnetic. You didn’t mind letting him tug you away, besides, Wooyoung had left you alone anyway. He would just have to suffer the consequences of his own actions.

Once you had made it outside the bar, Yeonjun sighed, taking in a breath of the cool air outside. “That’s better. It was too fucking loud and hot in there.” he laughed. 

“Right? Well thank you Yeonjun, I should probably catch a taxi home now so I can get cleaned up.” You also sighed, but instead of in relief, it was in frustration. You felt for your wallet in your back pocket. Yeonjun watched as you let your arms fall beside you. “It’s gone…” you mumbled. 

Yeonjun faked a frown as he pushed your wallet deeper into his back pocket, but then quickly perked up. “You can just come to my apartment. I know you don’t know me and this is probably a huge red flag but I’m not up to any fuck boy shit. I promise.” He said, holding out a pinky to you. 

You snorted. Everything told you to run away. This was a bad idea. It was dangerous and definitely a red flag. But you couldn’t help it. For some reason, you didn’t want him to leave. Yeonjun felt trustworthy, and maybe a little bit addictive. You intertwined your pinky with him, completing the promise. “Only if you promise you’re not kidnapping me.” 

“I promise.” You saw that red shimmer in his eyes again as he took your hand. You walked with Yeonjun for a little while before your feet started to cramp up from the heels you were wearing. Once Yeonjun noticed your pace slowing down, he quickly turned around and lifted you off the ground. You gasped at the suddenness as well as how easy it seemed for him to lift you. 

“Don’t worry. Just rest. I can carry you the rest of the way. It’s only a couple blocks.” He said reassuring you. 

You nodded. His scent pulled you in closer as you leaned against his chest. You closed your eyes and let yourself be overcome by his warmth and smell. There was just something about him that made you want to stay close to him. You were so drawn to him in a way you’d never been drawn to anyone before.

You must have dozed off momentarily, but you were quickly awoken by Yeonjun’s gentle but slightly out-of-breath voice. “Y/n,~ I’m sorry I would carry you into the house but I have to open the door.” 

You opened your eyes only to be met by a cute pout. He must have genuinely felt bad for having to put you down. He lowered you gently back onto your feet before opening the door and letting you walk inside first. His apartment was small, a little bit disorganized but clean. 

“Here I’ll grab you some clothes and put them in the bathroom for you. Then you can wash up if you want to.” Yeonjun said as he took off his shoes and then walked to his bedroom. 

You watched as he came out of his bedroom with some folded clothes in his hands as well as a towel or two. Then he stepped out of the bathroom again before motioning that the bathroom was now yours. 

“If the clothes are uncomfortable or don’t fit right just let me know and I’ll grab you something else!” He smiled as he walked back into the living room and plopped down on the couch.

You gave him a nod and responded, “Thank you Yeonjun, you didn’t have to do this.” Before heading into the bathroom and closing the door behind you. You locked the bathroom door of course because this guy was still someone you didn’t know + taking a shower + being naked + the unlocked door just didn’t feel quite right.

But after you locked the door, you allowed yourself to relax a bit, using the restroom and starting the shower before peeling off your sticky beer-covered clothes. You hopped into the shower and let the hot water caress your skin. It felt nice. You didn't bother to wash your hair but you did use Yeonjun’s body wash to clean off your body. The smell of his body wash was nice, not too manly but not girly either. After letting your muscles relax in the hot water for a bit you eventually decided it was time to get out of the shower. You noticed that Yeonjun’s towels were nice, they seemed high quality as you dried yourself off. Then you finally picked up the clothes he had brought for you. A big white t-shirt with some sort of logo on the front, and some sweatpants. You slipped the clothes on, not able to wear your beer-soaked bra, and ultimately forced yourself to put back on your sweaty panties. 

You looked at yourself in the mirror. You looked comfortable and cute. Your cheeks were pink from hot water and the clothes stuck to your damp body. Your nipples are easy to see in the shirt but you shrug it off, being a man you’re sure Yeonjun probably wouldn’t mind the free view. You decide to tie your hair up into a ponytail to complete the comfortable look before unlocking the door and stepping into the hallway. When you walk back into the living room you find Yeonjun in the kitchen cooking some eggs and toast. He turned around at the sound of the bathroom door opening. 

He hummed contently with a raised eyebrow as he looked you up in down in his clothes. “You look cute.” 

“Thank you.” You responded, feeling a little bit shy before joining him in the kitchen. 

It was quiet for a little bit while he cooked food for himself and you. You took a second to admire him, he was still in the button-down shirt but it was much more open and now he was wearing dark sweatpants. His figure was quite enjoyable to look at, his slender waist easy to see with his shirt tucked in. 

Eventually, he finished cooking and handed you a plate of scrambled eggs and some toast along with a glass of wine. “Here, I figured you might be hungry but if you’re not that’s okay!“ he said with a smile. 

“You’re so kind Yeonjun.” You replied before taking a few bites. The two of you sat and ate together while chit-chatting and getting to know each other a little better. After a while, you felt the wine turning your cheeks pink. 

“Do you… want to watch a movie with me?” Yeonjun smiled, cleaning up the table. “If not, I can take you home.” 

“I’m definitely not letting you take me home, you’ve been drinking too, stupid.” You said with crossed arms as you headed over to his couch. He chuckled before joining you in the living room. As he approached you, you could really see how nice his figure was, including the tent in his sweatpants. You quickly looked up after realizing you definitely had been staring for too long and met his eyes. There was that stupid smirk again. Had he seen you checking him out like that? If he did he definitely didn’t say anything. 

He sat beside you and that’s when you realized how much bigger he was than you. His hands were twice the size of yours, he was much taller than you, and his arms and thighs were muscular and toned. For a moment you wondered what other parts of him were muscular or big. You shook the thought off quickly embarrassed at yourself for even going there. But you couldn’t help but bite your lip as he put his arm around you. 

You could feel your skin light on fire as he pulled you against him. The sudden proximity warmed you to the core. You swore you’d never been so interested in someone like this before but you couldn’t understand what made him so different. He turned on the TV and put on a movie. You had a hard time concentrating on the movie though. Between the unprovoked lewd thoughts and the fact that you were exhausted, after a while you found yourself dozing off on him. Yeonjun was warm and he felt safe even though you had just met him. 

Yeonjun watched as your body began to go limp in his arms. He wasn’t surprised that he had taken control over you this easily but still, it amused him to watch as your head fell into his lap. He leaned his head back and tried to calm himself. He wasn’t usually like this but he hadn’t had sex in months and if he didn’t soon he was going to become sick and unable to control himself. He would become dangerous to those around him.

He was hesitant because of what happened last time. He was afraid of hurting or killing anyone. He wasn’t like the rest of them. He really didn’t want to hurt anyone anymore. Maybe if he was quick you wouldn’t wake up and you wouldn’t get hurt. He knew he could keep you sleeping for a while as long as he maintained focus. 

Your head was sitting in his lap now. He adjusted how he was sitting but that didn’t help much because now he could feel the blood starting to pulsate into his cock. 

“Fuck.” He mumbled.

He looked down and watched as the tent in his pants grew. Your warm breath tingled against the head of his cock through his pants which caused him to thrust up against your face unintentionally. You didn’t respond, but you let out a little whine which only made things worse for Yeonjun. 

Yeonjun felt his body heating up. It’s not like he could just get himself off and be done, he needed this to stay alive. His cock only continued to grow, the head now rubbing against your unsuspecting lips through his sweatpants. 

He gently rested a hand on your head holding it in place as he began to slowly rut against your face. The drag of his sweatpants against his skin stimulated him in a way that only made him hotter. He continued this for a minute, watching your innocent features as you slept in his lap. This only aroused him more and more. He knew this was wrong, but he didn’t have a choice.

He clenched his jaw before carefully pulling down his sweatpants. His length sprang out just perfectly rubbing across your lips leaving a string of precum connecting to the head. 

“Oh fuck.” He cursed. The image in front of him was unholy like him. He ran his fingers through his hair before shaking his head. He couldn’t believe he was about to do this, but you were so beautiful and he couldn’t help it. Something like this was inevitable.

With one hand Yeonjun pinched your cheeks which parted your lips and with the other, he pushed down on your head gently until he was able to push the tip into your mouth. 

He paused, the heat and wetness of your mouth making his head spin. All he had to do was keep himself calm and not lose it. If he could just cum once he’d be able to deal with it for now. He needed to cum and to have sex to feed, to stay alive, but he never wanted to hurt anyone. It was a difficult cycle. He loathed it.  

He took a shakey breath before pushing himself further into your mouth. Right now, since he was calm and fully human Yeonjun’s cock was only about 6 inches and was a normal width so he was able to push himself father into your mouth without any issues. 

While the younger boy fucked into your sleeping mouth, he let his free hand wander around your body. He let his hand crawl under your top and his fingertips kneaded your skin. 

Yeonjun thrusted deeper and he could feel your gag reflex kicking in on its own as well as small whines signaling that you were starting to wake up. He sped up, not close enough yet to cum. 

“Shit.” He thought. He had taken too long and you were starting to wake up from the dream he had put you in. He was going to have to use a different approach…

You were having the most erotic dream when the constant motion against your skin started to awaken you. You felt like you were drooling and having to work harder to breathe. You felt hot and aroused but it had to be because of the dream. That’s when you remembered where you had been. You had fallen asleep in a stranger's lap. 

When your eyes started to flutter open everything was spinning. You were no longer lying down but instead, you were sitting up with something hard pressed against your back. It was dark except for maybe one lamp, but you were in a room you didn’t recognize. 

That’s when you realized there was something in your mouth. A hand grabbed your chin and tilted your head upwards. Your eyes met his, but they weren’t the same as before. Yeonjun. His eyes a dark burgundy color now.

“Hi there little bun. Be good for me and don’t move okay?” His voice cooed into your ears. 

You started to panic slightly when you finally felt his hips move and then you realized that his cock was in your mouth and that’s why you were dreaming the way you had been. 

He started thrusting quickly without much warning causing you to grab onto his thighs as you gagged. 

“You’re such a good girl. Taking my cock so well. Open up wide for me honey, I’m not going to hurt you.” He said while rubbing your head. His voice was as sweet as honey and the tender motion of his hands running through your hair with his words somehow melted into your brain easing your anxiety. You felt dizzy with lust. That was because of your dream right? 

He pets you a few more times before pushing your head back against the wall. His cock was sliding deeper and deeper into your throat as your spit continued to build. You started gagging more and more which began to pull you out of your daze. 

You started to panic adrenaline fighting against Yeonjun’s mental abilities. The rush caused you to start pushing against his thighs again, a sudden subconscious act of fight or flight.

Suddenly, you couldn’t breathe at all. Yeonjun had pinched your nose closed completely blocking you from breathing. 

“Don’t worry little bun, I’ve got you. I won’t hurt you, just trust me.” He said as he continued to keep you from breathing. 

However, now you weren’t gagging, he was pushing his cock all the way down your throat and your head was spinning. Although you were nervous and scared, you still trusted the younger boy. Suddenly, your hands felt heavy and weak so you let them fall to your side, no longer an obstacle for Yeonjun. 

Yeonjun continued to thrust into your throat sharply, the lack of oxygen to your brain was making you dizzy. You felt so weak and fuzzy. You weren’t gagging anymore but your body subconsciously started trying to gasp for air, your throat spasming around Yeonjun’s cock. You heard the younger boy curse above you before he pushed himself all the way in his body shaking slightly. You could feel his cock pulsing as he came down your throat. You looked up at him as your vision started to become spotty, you could have sworn this was a dream too because of the shadows coming up from the boy's back and how the pupils of his eyes were almost glowing and red. His cum was hot and the feeling distracted you from the fact that you were starting to black out. 

When you started to become conscious again, everything was still dark. You were lying down, it was warm and you felt a pressure behind you. You blinked a few times before you realized Yeonjun was spooning you. Your jaw was a bit sore, there’s no way everything that just happened wasn’t a dream right? You must have just clenched your jaw from the vivid dreams you were having.

You thought you could hear Yeonjun lightly snoring behind you which made you question yourself even more.

The larger boy adjusted and suddenly you could feel pressure from behind. You blushed. His cock was pushing against your clothed ass. His cock was hard, you could feel that it was throbbing and this made a chill go down your spine. You wanted more.

Yeonjun adjusted again, this time wrapping his arm around your waist and his face was near your shoulder. His breaths were heavy and even, so you were almost certain he was asleep. That was.. until you began to feel his hips rolling against you. His cock pushed against you, slightly dragging with the motion. 

You couldn’t move, you were so flustered by his actions you couldn’t help but want to see what would happen also, why were your limbs so fucking heavy. He continued rolling his hips gently for a few minutes. You could feel yourself getting hotter and hotter with every passing second, you wanted more than this. 

You bit your lip before slowly starting to pull the sweatpants you were wearing off. Since they were too big for you they slid off easily but you still moved with hesitation for fear of waking Yeonjun up. After another minute of gentle thrusting, you lifted your ass slightly and held your legs apart. With another thrust, Yeonjun’s cock slid down to underneath your ass and with this next thrust, his cock slid between your thighs against your clothed pussy. You gently let your legs fall back together and covered your mouth as the boy now thrusts against your heat. 

You felt dizzy with lust, your mind was racing yet only focused on what was happening behind you. The sweat made for a good lubricant between your thighs and you could feel Yeonjun’s cock growing harder. Yeonjun’s breath was hot against your neck. 

The thrusting continued against your heat until you felt your thighs slick with sweat and precum. You whined quietly, your mind was hazy and your pussy was throbbing. You wanted more but you also didn’t want to wake him. 

“Do you want me that bad princess?” You heard a voice but the voice was in your head? You shook your head a bit thinking you were literally losing it. “My previous actions weren’t enough for you? Are you that desperate?” The voice again. But that’s when everything started to change. 

“Do you know what you’re messing with Angel?” The voice spoke once more in your head. You felt Yeonjun’s body shift and you jumped as you felt sharpness digging into you where his hand was around your waist. A knife?

You’re body and mind were conflicted, fear pulsed through your body at the sudden change in mood but you couldn’t help but push back against Yeonjun’s cock which you swore had gotten bigger than when it was in your mouth. Wait but that was a dream? This is a nightmare, right? It was time to wake up. 

You shook your head again and pinched yourself. This earned you a deep chuckle from behind. “No use love. You’re mine now, but what happens next is in your hands.” The voice in your head again. 

“Yeonjun…” you spoke out loud the following words sounding ridiculous as they left your mouth, “What is going on? Is that you.. in my head?”

“Mmm… I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier. But I couldn’t. It was much too risky. I’m an incubus, and you are my prey but.. I have no intentions of hurting you as long as you can handle it.” Yeonjun spoke aloud now, his breath tickling your ear. 

Tears pricked at your eyes as your flight or fight kicked in once more. “h-handle it?” You stuttered.

In a sudden movement, yeonjun had flipped you to where you were on your stomach and he was pressed on top of you. His cock still rubbing against your heat. The younger boy put his hands where you could see them and you watched in horror as his fingers shifted into slender claws. He lifted a hand to graze a claw against your neck. Their sharpness a likened to a brand new razor. You didn’t dare to move.

“Do you think you can handle me, princess?” He paused, “If you can’t, you don’t have to be afraid, I’ll make it quick and easy and you’ll never feel pain ever again. But if you can…. I promise I’ll make it worth it.” He whispered into your ear kissing it a few times sending shivers down your spine. 

You didn’t have a chance to answer before Yeonjun flipped you over and pinned you down his claws tearing into the sheets like little knives. Your heart and mind were racing unsure whether you were more fascinated or frightened by the scene in front of you. You watched as small dark black horns grew from his head and then he grimaced as dark bat-like wings came out from behind his back and lastly a whiplike tail with a spade on the end. You were horrified truly but despite the insanity of the situation you were in you tried to focus on the boy's face. You watched his face as the changes in his body caused him agony. You could tell he didn't want to be like this, not when it hurt him so much. You wanted to hug him, do anything to ease his pain.  

When his eyes finally met yours again they were still the deep burgundy color. He smirked once more as he watched the tears trickle down your cheeks. Fear had pulled them unwillingly from your eyes despite how you wanted to appear brave. He pulled a hand back and wrapped it around your throat once more. You whined and then realized still hadn't answered him. 

You reached up and ran a hand through his tousled hair and then over one of his horns. “You won’t hurt me Yeonjun. You don’t want to.” You managed to choke out as his hand tightened on your throat. You were sure that his next move would have been to kill you if you didn't speak up.

He seemed surprised at your response. His hand loosened slightly and his eyebrow picked up in curiosity. “You’re not afraid?” He said. 

“Of course I’m afraid. This is possibly the worst nightmare I've ever had but… Yeonjun, if you wanted to kill me you would have done it already, and besides…" you paused, "I really really… want you right now.” You replied, still aware of how his body was pressed against yours and how wet you were. 

Yeonjun’s cock throbbed at your words. He hadn’t really ever experienced this. Usually, when his prey woke up early he would just kill them. They usually woke up screaming or crying. The fear in their eyes was unbearable for him. He hated to see people be so afraid of him. He didn’t like killing people either. Many times Yeonjun had wished one of his prey would have had the means to kill him so he wouldn't have to do this anymore.  

Yeonjun sat back, releasing his hand fully from your throat and you watched as his tail came up and slid underneath your shirt. It was cold against your burning skin. The spade traveled all the way up to your neck before coming back down in fast motion ripping your shirt cleanly into two with zero resistance. You jumped as the spade cut you slightly across your chest on the way out. You were now exposed to yeonjun. 

Yeonjun watched for a moment as the blood trickled down your bare chest. He was also taking the time to admire your bare torso. Then he leaned down and licked from your belly button up to your neck, stopping to lick up the blood from your skin. When he got to your neck he kissed gently, eliciting a quiet whimper from you. 

You wrapped your arms around his neck, running a hand through his hair again and tugging gently near the base of his horns. Yeonjun growled at this, continuing to kiss and suck beautiful bruises on your neck. Your head spun as he licked against the shell of your ear before coming back down to lick at your erect nipples. He sucked at one and then the other, only causing your pussy to throb with every slight move. 

You grabbed at his shirt wanting to be able to feel his skin against yours. The younger boy simply just tore his shirt open from the front before using his tail to pull it off of his wings. You ran your fingers down his chest surprised to find numerous scars, some more fresh than others, and black marks like tattoos all across his pale skin. 

He watched you patiently as you took in his features. “You should be scared of me.” He said quietly, glancing down at his own scars being reminded of the many atrocities he had experienced and caused. 

You looked back at him with a small smile. “I’m not afraid Yeonjun. You're beautiful” you responded, tracing a scar with your fingers. Yeonjun nodded before smirking once more. “Well, not yet you’re not princess.” 

You lifted an eyebrow but before you could question him, Yeonjun was pulling down your panties. You blushed now being fully exposed to him so quickly. 

Yeonjun licked his lips as he realized how wet you were for him. “Ah… darling… did you perhaps want this all along hmm?” he said as he ran his claws down your thighs scratching them but not enough to draw blood. “Pretty girl.” He cooed, pulling your panties all the way off. 

You turned your head away slightly embarrassed at the situation. Yeonjun wasn’t able to use his hands to finger you, so instead he opted for his tongue, pulling your legs apart to kiss and lick at your heat. You moaned at his actions, clutching at the sheets because of the sudden pleasure of friction against your clit. He licked you fully, including using his tongue to push into you slightly which felt so good that you reached down to push his head down more. Yeonjun seemed to enjoy this slight dynamic change, licking at you like you were the only meal he had had all day. 

After a few minutes of this, Yeonjun came back up to face you. He licked his lips again. This time you caught a glimpse of his elongated canines. 

Yeonjun leaned into you, wrapping his arms around you suddenly. He was holding you as if he didn't want to let go. You felt him begin to rut against you again. His cock was still unbelievably hard. “y/n.” He panted “I won’t be able to stop once I start. You have to trust me if things become… frightening.” 

You nodded, rubbing his arms in reassurance. You weren’t sure exactly what he was trying to say but there wasn’t anything you could do about it now and the truth is, you didn't want him to stop anyway.

Yeonjun sat back up and began to pull down his pants. You desperately wanted to see what you hadn't yet been able to see. You were sure his cock was just as pretty as he was. You watched curiously until the lights began to flicker. Just as his length was about to come into your view everything went pitch black and you could feel as Yeonjun pushed his bare cock against your heat. You whined and the younger boy groaned both of you finally feeling the relief of skin-to-skin contact.

He continued this for a moment making sure to lubricate himself with your wetness before you felt the tip of his cock pushing at your entrance. He pushed in slowly at that’s when you realized something was different. The head of his cock was slender and more pointy than normal and as he pushed into you you could feel bumps and ridges that were more than just veins along the sides of his cock. This was curious to you but it felt much better than normal.

He was going slow but still, you felt so full already. You heard him moaning quietly above you as he bottomed out. You whined at the stretch. It didn't hurt but it was enough to leave you wanting just a little bit more.

The lights flickered back on but everything was dimmer than before. You met Yeonjun’s eyes and without notice, he began fucking into you. He wasn’t being rough yet, but the bumps on his cock rubbed the inside of you in ways you had never felt before. You couldn’t help yourself from letting out quiet moans as his cock slid in and out of you easily.

The younger boy leaned into your neck again as he fucked you. “God fuck. You’re so good, baby. Taking my cock so well.” He whispered into your ear. “Ah- yeonjun,” you moaned back, shuddering as his breath tickled your ear once again. 

He continued to fuck into you harshly but surprisingly it never really hurt. You felt full, hot and so much pleasure. You felt like you could cum at any second with one perfect stroke or one brush against your clit. You’d never felt anything like this and it felt so good. You wondered briefly if Yeonjun had any control over your pain and your pleasure.

Yeonjun pulled back after a moment to push your legs up. You squeaked at this sudden change and how much deeper it felt. You dug your fingernails into Yeonjun’s skin which elicited a slight growl of pleasure. 

His eyes were almost animalistic. Maybe this is what he had been talking about. That was until you felt a sudden throbbing in your heat. The throbbing was coming from his cock. For a moment you wondered if he was cumming?

The lights began to flicker again and you felt it as his cock pushed against your walls. His cock was growing, stretching you around double what it had been. It was overwhelming and a little bit painful. Your mind swirling with a mix of emotions and feelings you squeezed your eyes shut to dull the pain.

“Take it, princess.” He said with a devious smirk. “I’m not finished with you yet.” 

You whined at tears pricked at your eyes from the pain. It wasn’t overwhelming yet but it still hurt. But god you felt so full and the friction only made you hotter. You didn’t want him to stop, not that he would anyway. You just wanted more and more of him.

“Fuck.. Yeonjun” You cried, gripping the sheets around you unable to really reach him at the moment. 

He fucked into you aggressively. You could hear him panting as he thrust. You moaned as tears ran out of your eyes onto the pillow below. 

The younger boy reached down and wrapped his arms around your neck, pulling a whimper from you. This sudden intimate position caught you off guard. In return, you once again tugged on his hair. He groaned in pleasure. He had you basically folded in half pushing your physical boundaries to the edge. 

Yeonjun’s thrusts began to get shakey and you wondered if he was close now. You quickly lost sight of this question when you once again felt that you were becoming impossibly fuller except now this was only at the base of his cock and it was rubbing directly against your g-spot. 

“Fuck Yeonjun. I- I-“ you moaned as the feeling overwhelmed you. 

“There you go pretty.” He said, his voice dripping in lust. “Good girl.” 

Your head was spinning the sudden pleasure mixing with pain overwhelming you and orgasm approaching quickly.

“Yeonjunie- please. please I want to cum.” You whined, clawing at him desperately.

“Fuck, baby.” He said in response thrusting impossibly harder and faster. The sudden begging caught him off guard and encouraged him.

He grabbed a fist full of your hair before tugging harshly and in a deep raspy growl all he said was “Cum.” 

His knot pressed harshly into your g-spot along with his undeniable command causing you to see stars, waves of pleasure wrecking your body as your orgasm hit you. Your body was overstimulated and felt like it melting.

“Good girl.” was all you could process from above you as you came. Your tightening around him caused Yeonjun’s orgasm to come quickly after you. But in the heat of the moment, you grabbed the younger boy by the horns and pulled him in to kiss you. 

He kissed you roughly as he came, filling you up with his own heat. The feeling was euphoric, almost better than your orgasm. You still just wanted more despite being so full and wrecked. He continued to kiss you as you both came down slowly from your high. That was until he realized that you were no longer kissing him back. 

He pulled back quickly realizing his mistake. He looked at you in horror as you lay there limply. 

“Fuck. Oh fuck.” Yeonjun said in a panic, fear running down his spine, “God fuck.” 

He had forgotten in a moment of weakness that kissing, especially along with sex, was the fastest way for an incubus to suck the life from its prey. And here you were, lying motionless in his arms.

He lifted your head and ran his fingers through your hair softly. “y/n, I’m sorry. I- I- didn’t mean to I swear.” Yeonjun began to cry, tears quickly running down his face. He didn’t want to be like the other ones. He didn’t want to hurt people. To kill people. He really didn’t want to hurt you. You were the only one who hadn’t been afraid of him. You were different. "I swear I didn't mean to. Please," he begged.

All you knew was that you had been kissing him when suddenly you felt very weak and felt yourself beginning to lose consciousness. Your head was throbbing and dizzy as you felt his tears dripping onto your face as he hung his head above yours. You could hear the younger boy sobbing quietly, strings of desperation slipping from his mouth. “Yeonjunie.” you managed to whisper out. “Please don’t cry.”

The younger boy lifted his head. “y/n?” He choked out between tears. 

You worked hard to get your eyes open, only to see the fully human boy once again. His hair was messy, his skin no longer scarred, no wings or tail, his face was red, tears rolling down his cheeks. 

He gently pulled you into his arms, both of you still naked and messy. He stroked your head as he continued to cry. “I swear I’m not going to hurt you please don’t be afraid of me.” You felt him trembling.

You let out a small huff of a laugh. “I’m not afraid yeonjun. I’m not afraid at all.” You replied as you placed a reassuring hand on his cheek and wiped his tears with your thumb. You stayed like this for a minute, Yeonjun must have been taking the time to calm himself down.

Yeonjun carefully picked you up and carried you back to the shower where this time he helped wash you and kept you standing. You still felt so weak but having him take care of you felt so good. You couldn't help but want to soak up every single moment of attention he was giving you.

He gave you water and carried you back to the bedroom before getting into bed with you and holding you close.

You reached up to play with his hair because you could tell he liked it before. Sure enough, his head leaned into your touch, following your hand in a silent cry for the much-needed comfort. But while cuddling into him you began to dose off. 

“I know we just met but… I hope you don’t plan on getting rid of me…” the younger boy said quietly. “Demons… we create really deep bonds you know… and nobody has ever not been afraid of me like that before.”

You weren't sure if Yeonjun had meant for you to hear him or not. But it didn't matter because you had no desire to leave.

You smiled and leaned up to kiss him once more. You held his face in your hands squishing his cheeks a bit. “I told you I’m not afraid Yeonjun. So now it’s your turn to not be afraid.” You said teasing him gently for his insecurity. 

You weren’t sure if you were under the spell of the young incubus or if what you were feeling right now was real or a dream but it didn’t matter. The handsome boy with fluffy hair or the demon with bat wings and horns, either way, you couldn’t help but smile as he held you closely. He nuzzled you before adjusting so your head was lying on his chest. You fell asleep to the sound of his heartbeat and the feeling of him rubbing your back. You decided that even if this was all a dream, it was one that you wanted to have again and again or never wake up from.

[angeliicheartt]

omg ily!!! congrats bb <3

🐬 "ᴘᴜʟʟ ʜɪᴍ ꜰᴏʀ ᴀ ᴄʜᴀᴛ!" — send a dialogue prompt and a character and i'll write a blurb!

“stop looking at me like that” “like what?”

withhhhh ummmm shoto :3 (sorry i literally love him sm whehehjejejejjw)

ꜱᴛᴀʀɪɴɢ ᴘʀᴏʙʟᴇᴍ

includes: shoto todoroki

fem!reader

a/n: i was determined to finish this, lmk how the tension is!! i was trying to focus on that. anyways have this to makeup for not posting anything but yapping today

2k wc.

shoto has a staring problem.

a staring at you problem. that’s what you’ve come to believe over the past week.

he just couldn’t believe how perfect you looked. he could care less how your hair looks today, or whether you have any makeup on or not, shoto believed your very being was perfect. his eyes raked over your features, his gaze almost affectionate. he watches as you write something that present mic said, completely ignoring the very loud man, opting to watch you write down your notes instead. he somehow hasn’t noticed your eyes darting to the side to look at him, trying to figure out why shoto has been staring at you for a good five minutes.

his heterochromic eyes never leave your face as you attempt to listen to present mic’s lesson, which shouldn’t be that hard with how loud he is right? wrong. it’s actually kind of difficult to do when one of class 1A’s finest guys is staring at you in class.

you tilt your head slightly to face him, raising an eyebrow, which catches his attention. you watch as the tips of his ears redden, causing you to suppress a smile.

“you okay?” you whisper, looking around to see if present mic was paying attention to you two, he wasn’t. shoto’s eyes strike yours as they flick to make eye contact. at first, he just stares at you, his lips parted before he blinks once, twice. his eyes dart away from yours, back to his desk as his hand comes to rest on his neck and you can just barely hear him mutter a small “yeah.”

he only peeks at you a few more times during the rest of the class period, and the rest of the day in fact. you retire to the dorms as classes get out, the majority of class A piling into the living room for some quality time. you settle on one of the smaller couches, your back against the arm rest as everyone finds a spot. And when everyone’s settled, you realize the only other person on this couch was shoto.

and he starts staring again.

and you truly don’t mind him staring, it just becomes unnerving when it seems like you’re the only one he’s even trying to pay attention to, like he’s just naturally tuning everything out but you. his head is rested in his palm as his arm props himself up, his torso and face turned towards you, like a sunflower to the sun.

and due to your position on the couch, anytime you angle your head forward, you meet his strangely soft gaze, his eyes studying every minute (extremely small) detail on your face. you feel your cheeks heat up under his watch before you feel mina draping across the back of the couch, her face propped up in her arms as they balance on the back cushions.

“what’s with that face, todoroki?” she asks, a small smirk on her lips as she follows shoto’s gaze to you before he rips his eyes away from you to respond to the pink girl.

“what face?” todoroki sincerely asks, his eyebrows pinched in confusion as his head tilts in the same manner, causing mina and her smirk deflate. she sighs dramatically, her eyes rolling as she straightens herself upright. you catch her eyes and you can feel your cheeks heat again as she winks at you.

“oh nothinggg..” she drags out as she grins cheekily before toddling off towards kaminari and kirishima.

your eyes track her as she walks off before looking forward once more, and once again meeting shoto’s gaze. you feel shy under his gaze, it seems scrutinizing, but if you really look, he’s only studying you, memorizing the way you are.

“do you wanna go outside?” you blurt out, “i mean.. like.. on one of our balconies?” you clarify, your fingers picking at eachother as you wait for his response, and after what feels like forever he nods, a small smile gracing his face. you feel the couch dip as he gets up, offering you a hand. you place your hand in his, his hand warm to the touch as it closes around yours. you use shoto to pull yourself up before heading out of the living area.

the two of you manage to sneak away from the rest of the class before drawing too much attention to yourselves and as the two of you successfully get away, you turn to shoto.

“which dorm are we going to?” you ask, watching as he turns to look at you, his eyebrows furrowing in thought before they relax again, “we can go to mine.”

you nod as the two of you turn to the elevator, pressing the button for the fifth floor when it arrives. you lean against the back wall, your hands resting behind you on the handle bar. you can feel shoto’s gaze on you again, only this time he’s at least trying to be discreet, maybe mina’s comment threw him off.

you feel the elevator rumble as it arrives at the 5th floor, the bell dinging as the doors open, allowing you and shoto out. the two of you make it to his room in less than a minute, and when you arrive shoto opens the door, holding it open for you as well.

you slip between him and the wall into his room, admiring the traditional design of it all. sure, you saw it when all of class A did their room tours, but you could really admire it now. he watched as you examined his room, your eyes darting from one thing to another. he lets out a soft chuckle at your antics as he crosses the room to the balcony door, sliding it open as he looks back at you.

“are you coming?” he asks, and he could not seem more princely. the wind blows in through the cracked sliding door, hitting shoto’s hair just right, the little quirk of his lips not helping anything. mina’s comment was just putting thoughts in your head, right?

“y/n?” shoto’s eyebrow raised at your lack of response, which left you flustered. you nod as you hurry your feet over to the door. shoto’s eyebrows relax once again as you hurry over to him, holding open the sliding door for you as if it would shut if he wasn’t.

you graciously step through the doorway, instantly sighing as you feel the humid air, the lower temperatures of the evening allowing you to actually enjoy the summer heat. you hear shoto step outside as well, shutting the sliding door behind him. you cast a brief glance over your shoulder before moving to lean against the railing.

“you probably shouldn’t do that.” he says as he approaches the railing to the left of you, causing you to turn your head.

“how come?” you ask, an eyebrow raising as you show no hint of moving.

“if it breaks you could fall.” he says, his own arms moving to rest against the very same railing. you scoff at his action, causing his lips to quirk up again.

“as if you wouldn’t save me,” you quip and you actually pull a soft chuckle out of the boy beside you, causing your own smile to form.

shoto’s eyes practically light up at the sight of your smile, his cheeks warming as he props his arms against the railing properly, so that he’s able to admire you like he wants to. your smile softens as you meet his gaze, however you still hide half your face behind your hunched shoulder. but shoto doesn’t mind, he could stare at just your hand for hours, admiring each freckle or mole, each vein and hangnail.

and the look on his face and in his eyes is the same as earlier, an adoring, earnest, affectionate look, and you couldn’t fathom it.

“stop looking at me like that,” you sigh, your hands resuming their skin-picking activities. You could practically hear shoto’s confusion, you glance at him and see his eyebrows furrowed in your direction, and you almost wish you hadn’t looked.

“like what?” he asks, and you almost laugh, as if he doesn’t realize how he stares at you, like you hung the sun, the moon, and the stars, like you were his only joy, like you were his sun.

you settle for a scoff as your hand rubs at your eye. your eyebrows furrow as you try and figure out a way to explain to this clueless boy how flustered he makes you feel with a look. you sigh as you straighten yourself up, if only slightly.

“you look at me like you know me, like you’ve seen into my very being and accept all of it, like i could do no wrong, like.. like you're in love with me or something..” you spout, your cheeks heating up as you explain, though you have nothing to embarrassed of.

“oh.” is all shoto says, his voice monotone as it usually is, but it seemed almost tainted by dejection. the change in voice causes you to look over at him, you head turning as you see him staring at the ground, his cheeks practically on fire.

“you want me to stop? so.. i made you uncomfortable, im sorry.” shoto says, and his voice sounds almost pained and you can see his hands tightening into fists as they rest against the railing.

“i didn’t mean it like that!” you exclaim, your hand grabbing the railing dangerously close to his tightening fists. “truly, it honestly just confuses me..” you say as you relax once more, seeing shoto’s fists relax.

“please tell me,” shoto says, and his tone almost sounded like a beg. your cheeks heat up as he parts from the railing, causing you to turn and when you do you realize how close he is, only he’s now facing you straight on, and you can’t hide from his gaze. “i want to understand you.”

you sigh, your eyes darting to your side before you look back to him, avoiding looking into his eyes as you speak.

“you may not know this, but you’re one of the best looking guys in our class, and honestly all of UA, and it just threw me off. the way you looked at me, like i was special, just.. baffled me.” you say. your eyes finally meet his again, and you can see confusion swirling in them, his eyebrows creased in the same manner. your foot digs into the hard concrete of the balcony and your hand scrubs at your face, embarrassed by your sudden confession and shoto’s prolonged silence.

“ugh, nevermind, forget i said anything,” you rush out as you try to side step the two-toned boy, only getting a few paces past him before his voice stops you.

“but..” you turn to look at him, and he turns to face you, his eyebrows still furrowed in confusion. “you are special.”

your lips part but no sound comes out as you stare into his eyes, your own brows pinched with emotion. the way he said it so surely, as if it was utterly absurd to even entertain the thought of you not being special.

“really?” you ask, and you wince as you hear yourself, but you couldn’t have stopped yourself from asking. it was reactive, your subconscious craving your deserved praise.

shoto nods, his lips quirking into a soft smile. And you return his smile, your eyes are a little watery, but the lowlight coming from shoto’s dorm helps you disguise that.

“do you.. want a hug?” he offers, unsure if it’s what you need in the moment but you jump at the opportunity. you wrap your arms around his waist, giggling as his arms hesitant before wrapping around your shoulders.

“is this okay..?” he murmurs into your hair and you fight back a grin as you nod, “yeah, it’s perfect.”

the two of you untangle your arms from eachother, but as you do you hear mina’s distinctive gasp. turning you see her on sero’s balcony, staring wide eyed at the two of you.

“i called it! sero! come out here!” mina yells before sero shushes her, causing her to whine as she gets dragged back into his dorm and sending an apologetic look to the two of you.

once he closes the door once again, you turn back to shoto, and as he mirrors your action the two of you burst into a small fit of giggles.

maybe his staring wasn’t so bad.

ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ: @satelitis @kozumesphone