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sublimecatgalaxy · 2 years ago

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Read It and Weep- Part 1

Pairing: NFL!Player!Rafe Cameron x Journalist!Reader

Summary: Sports journalist Y/n is covering a pro-NFL football game when she gets knocked down by wide reciever Rafe Cameron. He helps her up and immediately can't seem to take his eyes off of her as they celebrate their win. After, at the post game conference, him and the reader share an interesting conversation and he learns (earns) her name.

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: Violence, swearing, I think that's it honestly.

Song: "My Ordinary Life" by The Living Tombstones

A/n: This might be the most excited I've ever seen @tee-swizzle get over a fic I've written. This is some serious hot and cute and angsty shit, buckle up, it's quite a ride. This is part 1 of 10!

I always thought the only time I would enjoy men running around in costumes would be on Broadway.

The sophisticated, planned, calculated moves, the falsetto notes they hit while running around in expensive costumes that took hours and hours to create. Men on Broadway are just a whole other breed- don’t get me wrong, all actors and actresses alike are all impressive beyond belief, it’s a hard field to be a part of. But there’s something so groundbreaking and heartwarming to see men of all backgrounds doing what they love to do.

There’s just an art to it- Broadway- a beauty that a lot of people brush off and denounce as girly or even something that’s remarkably easy. They call theater kids loony (which coming from one, I’d have to agree just a bit), they’re constantly bullied and harassed but not when they make it to the big times. No- then they are set up on this pedestal where they are to be paid hundreds or thousands of dollars to get on stage, to dance and sing their favorite show tunes together where all of a sudden they’re people to look up to, forgetting all about their high school days and all the failed auditions that teared them down. But once they’re on that stage together, creating music and art, they’re a family in a sense. Leaving it all on the stage for the viewer, us, to enjoy.

A brotherhood.

My new stage looks a little bit differently than it did when I was sixteen.

My new stage consists of something similar- men, running around in matching outfits, same bright lights shining on them, sweat pouring down their necks, and they’re still a brotherhood- maybe even more so in a sense. But with this stage, there’s profanities, there's violence and, most of all, there are too many balls in one place at one time.

Pun so intended.

The world of sports is not one that I saw myself getting into at the ripe age of twenty four, let alone football. I’ve always had a bit of a thing against football players but that happens when you grow up in the theater world where you’re constantly pushed around by the ‘higher class’ of the horrible high school hierarchy, being called names, shoved down stairs, having your lunch tossed into your lap. But the job that I was offered through a local journal in my hometown was just perfect for me- I couldn’t not take it. There would be no other job that could've come around that would’ve given me the same freetime and the ability to still have control over my schedule, all while supporting my home team. It gave me a chance to travel, to learn, and to be surrounded by attractive, sweaty men doing their thing.

There’s a bit of a silver lining to it, I guess.

Working as a journalist for a professional football team was not the intended goal when I got my Bachelors degree in Journalism, nor was it the plan for my Masters. I wanted to go into freelancing or maybe dabble a bit in the socioeconomic crisis our country’s suffering from- maybe even write a few articles on how to save the turtles or some shit.

But football?

I spend most of my days on the sidelines, sketching down stats, learning plays and keeping up in the personal lives of our devoted players. I’m like one of those cheerleading girls I used to hate, practically a groupie of the team at this point. Even the coach and the other behind-the-scenes workers are on a first name basis with me at this point.

Sixteen year old me would be disgusted- repulsed.

Current me? Not so disgusted as I’m watching a bunch of tall, bachelor-like men run around the field at top speed, tackling each other as the crowd colored in all different jerseys scream or boo in unison. I can’t fight the proud smile that’s on my lips as I look out at the field, just right there in front of me- I could reach out and just be a part of it. There’s something to home games that just gets your blood pumping in a special way, especially so close to playoffs, so close to glory and a big old fancy ring for our quarterback and team. It’s every team’s goal for the year but every news agency’s eyes are on us, watching us and the players so closely, betting and guessing that we’ll be the one to win everything this year. No pressure, right?

It’s an honor to be traveling with them all, I couldn’t have been paired with a more respectful group of men, even though some of them don’t even know my name or that I exist. They might see my name occasionally at the bottom of an article I’ve written about their triumphs or losses or they know me as the girl that they accidentally mistake for the water girl and who they then apologize profusely to following the mix up.

Sarah the water girl and I look awfully a lot we’ve learned.

There’s not a lot of time left in the game now, less than two minutes in the last quarter and it’s tight, too close for comfort as the men in the front row of the stands scream their asses off, acting like their words will have any weight in the overall game. With how we’re playing right now, the defensive line tuckered out beyond belief, we’re not looking at winning, especially if they hold possession of the ball like they have been. The other team is smart, I’ll give them that, gnawing down at the clock, running down the time so if we did get the ball, we’d barely have the time to do anything remotely impressive. We’re down by 6 and if we’d just get a touchdown we’d be good and we would win, but we just need to get possession of the ball.

I write down the numbers of the players who’ve stuck out to me the most on this team to calm my nerves; number three Cameron offense, number seventeen McHarley defense, number 4 the quarterback- wait.

Why is everyone cheering?

What just happened?

Looking up from my notepad, I watch as our defense runs the ball in the opposite direction that we were going in before, instead towards the opposing team's endzone, indicating that, indeed, there was a turnover of some sort while I wasn’t paying attention. If that’s all it takes, my job just became a whole lot easier.

The play resets, our offensive line and our quarterback stumble onto the field with a bit more pep in their steps compared to their previous run. They’re cheering and high fiving the defense as they pass each other in the middle of the field, bright smiles calming everyone's general anxiety and setting the record straight that we’re still in the game. There’s still a chance.

They set themselves up within seconds and in moments they’re hiking the ball. I watch number three, one of my favorite wide receivers to watch, simply because of his overall spunk and sass for the game, subtly loving when he gets into little fights with people because I can always manage to hear his silly, boyish insults. He tries so hard to act tough, when he's really just the biggest puppy of all time.

I’m so caught up in thinking about him, I completely miss him barreling my way just as the quarterback throws the ball in his direction. Cameron is wide open, no one even close to tackling him and I can hear him whooping as he runs towards the end zone. I grin wildly as he catches the ball, solidifying our win, and before the refs even signal for a TD, the whole crowd erupts in giggles and cheers. I go to clap and cheer for him but before I can, an opposing player is giving him one last shove for good measure and he is tumbling onto the ground, the ref beside me immediately throwing a flag into the air, just as Rafe slides in my direction full force.

Before I can move, he takes me down to the ground. Hard.

I hit the floor with a loud thud, ears ringing as my head slams against the turf and I can hear muffled voices and hands grabbing at me, brain rattling around in my head as I shove my eyes closed as tightly as they can, hands reaching up to cradle my aching skull. I can feel people trying to pry me up onto my feet, to help me up but I’ve barely even processed that I’ve fallen or that my favorite wide receiver is currently laying on both of my legs, trapping me to the ground.

My eyes pop open moments later at the realization and I see cameras around me, mostly pointed at Cameron who’s kneeling in front of me, soft, blue, worried eyes gazing back at me as I struggle to find my voice. He looks at me, waiting for me to speak and, when I don’t, he simply reaches out, placing a firm, protective hand on the side of my head, steading my spinning eyes. I feel my body warming up at his touch, the loud, thrumming music playing in the stadium as an attempt to celebrate is drowned out by his voice filling my ears, his whole body leaning towards me so he can speak directly against the shell of my ear.

“You good?” He yells over the cheering, thumb brushing against my temple, and I realize he’s not even celebrating the fact that he just won the game that’s sending us to playoff games, mapping the road to the Superbowl. I give him a half assed nod and a flushed smile and before I can say anything else, his teammates are pulling him up and into their arms, screaming loudly as boys can, all for the cameras as they pat each other on the helmets, knocking them together every once in a while.

“Yeah, I’m good.” I mutter to myself, pressing my pointer finger and thumb to the bridge of my nose to aid the headaches that’s creeping up the back of my neck, taking deep breaths and praying I don’t have a concussion. From across the field, through the mess of players and confetti, I can see number three looking over at me with kind, worried eyes that seem to want to say more than what he’s already said to me.

His eyes make me nearly forget that it’s my job to interview them.

I guess I’ll ride my headache out and wait till the post game conference.

–

From the time I got knocked down to the time when I stepped foot into the conference room, there were at least twenty-six different people who asked me if I was the one who was ‘tackled’ by Rafe Cameron after he caught the winning touchdown. After the third time, I started to feel a bit sheepish and honestly a bit embarrassed, wondering how long they’re going to string this out and ask me what it was like to be tackled by America’s most loved wide receiver.

It was rough, I hit my head, it hurt- what else do they want from me? Do they want me to say I’m honored that he was so close to me, fangirl over his presence, that he made eye contact with me? Hell, he’s human and so am I. His reaction was purely a moment of humility and humanity shining through.

But I totally did get butterflies.

But, to be honest, he is probably the most wholesome, mama’s boy you’ll ever see.

Dirty blonde, shaggy hair, blue shining eyes, overall toned to a T and he’s all meathead minus all of the misogyny and toxic masculinity. He’s always respectful in interviews, polite to women- it’s obvious he was raised well and anyone with a brain can tell that he’s wildly intelligent from his masters degree in Sports Communication. It’s impressive, his story.

“So, you won the came, Cameron- how does it feel?” An interviewer calls out from the audience beside me, the happy smile on his face only feeding into the fact that he’s definitely a fan, and Rafe smiles handsomely, looking out across the audience with a simple, humble shrug.

“Felt good taking the team to the playoffs. I couldn’t have done it without my quarterback, number 4, Greg Abernathy.” He reaches over to slap Greg on the back and I grin, scribbling down some words on my notepad, a small smile on my face as I listen to the boys commend each other in a bro-mance type love. They’re always very supportive of one another, having a type of relationship where you really don’t see one without hte other. They’re constantly training together, getting dinner together, having literal sleepovers at each other’s apartments (or so I’ve heard). They’re brothers, there’s no better description for the boys. “But I really have to give it up to the nice lady that I tackled, I feel horrible. I’d like to dedicate our win to her today since she obviously was a part of my excitement. You can put that in writing.”

I’m sorry?

Dedicated?

What?

All eyes turn to look at me and I feel my face drain of any color, every hair on my body sticking up as I suddenly feel so small in this room full of my very own coworkers and competitors. I can hear Rafe mutter a quiet ‘shit, she’s here?’ away from the mic and to Greg, who just chuckles and points in my direction, the direction that everyone happens to be looking in. I can see the looks in other journalists' and reporters' eyes, they want to talk to me, they want to shove microphones in my face but based on the ‘deer in headlights’ look I’m giving everyone, I think I’ll be safe from their interrogations. Rafe looks at me and his smile only grows, fingers reaching out to wrap around the mic to pull it closer to his lips as I anticipate what’s to come.

“Hi nice lady that I knocked over, are you okay?” His voice is ten times deeper than it was just moments ago and I can feel my brain melting just at the feeling of him looking back at me, matching my gaze as if he’s just as excited to be speaking to me one on one.

Me.

“I’m okay, just a bit banged up.” I call out, shakily shoving my pen and paper into my bag beside me to give him my undivided attention which, it’s not like he has to fight for it, I’m practically drooling simply because he’s gazing at me, giving me his complete and utter attention as hands raise around the room. The way he’s staring at me, eagerly hanging onto every word I say and I can see it, it’s not like he’s even trying to not seem completely enthralled with my every breath.

“Man, you traumatized the poor girl.” Greg mutters into the mic and the room erupts in laughter and I bite back the laugh that wants to escape me but I don’t dare allow the giggles to leave me when Rafe is just staring me down with a soft look and a gentle smile, something completely opposite of his rowdy behavior and profanities on the field. But after a second, a look of realization passes across his expression and he turns to look at Greg with a worried expression before glancing back at me.

“I did not- you’re not traumatized, right?” He asks me and I laugh, waving him off as I reach up to knock at my own head. What a stupid move, Y/l/n, get it together.

“No, god no. It happens.” I chuckle, brushing off his concerns of injury and he visibly relaxes, head bobbing in a gentle nod as he laughs sheepishly, almost embarrassed that he seemed to care so much in front of a room of random people. “It could’ve been worse. Could’ve been the other team, they wouldn’t have helped me up.”

“So you’re saying his charisma and manners is what saved him from being brutalized all over the internet?” Greg interrupts before Rafe can say anything with a wide eyed, shocked, teasing look.

“For sure.” I grin proudly, already thinking about how excited I’ll be to call my dad after this conference and tell him all about how I got to talk to and compliment one of his favorite players in the NFL. He’s going to shit his pants. He’s been gushing about his stats for the two years that Rafe’s been on the team, every Sunday, blabbering about his stats, his goals, his story- hell I probably know more about him than anyone else in this room right now.

“Well, I appreciate that. My step mom will be happy to hear she did something right.” Rafe blushes warmly, the redness creeping down his neck and under the polo that he wears as another rumble of laughter rolls over the room like a wave and I keep it in the back of my mind to make it known in my article that he’s definitely some sort of mama’s boy through and through. No wonder he’s so respectful.

“Happy to help.” I smile warmly, the room falling awkwardly silent again before the reporters buzz with questions like angry bees, eager to move on from Rafe and I ogling each other oddly from across the room. I can’t fight the butterflies fluttering in my stomach at the conversation we just had; there was no hint of annoyance, only eager questions and concern that I genuinely do appreciate. He didn’t need to follow up with me, he didn’t need to call me out in regards to their win, all that without even knowing I was here.

But he did.

That matters for something, right?

Right?

“Hey, before we move on, I just wanna get your name- what’s your name? Are you one of our journalists?” Rafe asks, quickly grabbing hold of the mic firmly in his fist before Greg can pull it away from him and I nod firmly and proudly.

“My name’s Y/n Y/l/n and, yeah, I’ve worked for you guys for nearly eight months.” I swallow my nerves, now suddenly aware that he knows who I am and can talk to me and look for me in any crowd and just know who I am. Rafe Cameron knows who I am.

It takes a second but I’m slowly realizing that he’s truly just a person and not anything to be afraid of.

Right?

“Oh my god she’s the one who wrote that article about your tweets on twitter like two weeks ago.” Greg gasps and the room turns to me once again, confusion and shock written across all of their faces and, I’ve got to give it to him, I’m shocked that they even read articles about them. I assumed they just filter it out and try not to pay attention to the news headlines with their names in it but, now that I know that they read them, I’ll be more careful when throwing the word ‘handsome’ around in my pieces.

“Guilty as charged.” I breathe a sigh, reaching up to rub at the back of my neck awkwardly and a sort of tension falls over the room as everyone waits for a more in depth answer from me, their eyes (especially Rafe’s) practically begging for why I wrote the article. “I think it’s nice for young viewers, especially young boys, to see someone who’s a better influence than most of the sports players that are in the media.” A nod of agreement falls across the room and Rafe smiles wholesomely, looking at Greg with a happily proud expression written across his face, like he’s made it.

“So I’m a role model, that’s what you are saying?” He asks but there’s no cockiness or arrogance to his voice- no- just pure and utter pride and vulnerability at the thought of doing right by the football world and, in my opinion, he definitely has.

All of the gala’s he’s attended, the hospitals he’s visited to talk to and to comfort young children, the way his smile lights up the locker room- even if they lose- the beaming smile he shows if they do win, and all of the money he’s donated to so many important organizations- my point, and the point of my article was, is that he’s what the NFL should be fronting, not the garbage-like, questionable, geriatric old men who need to retire.

“Exactly what I’m saying.” I smile firmly, not tearing my gaze away from his as he nods, leaning back in his chair and he finally appears content with our conversation because he finally allows Greg to take the mic back, but his eyes do not leave me as the room fills with questions once more.

“Hey, that was sweet and all, but can we talk about football now?”

#rafe #rafe x reader #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #outerbanks #outerbanks fic #rafe cameron smut #rafe smut #rafe fic #rafe cameron fic #outerbanks series

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deconstructthesoup · 7 months ago

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Since I've seen a lot of people do it, here's my sexuality, gender, and gender presentation headcanons for the Voices and Vessels:

Voices

Hero: Bisexual, he/him, cis but is probably a little bit gnc---he's trying on earrings, he's started to paint his nails and wear makeup, maybe he'll buy a skirt soon. He seems like a guy who's only recently come out of the closet and is a bit nervous about doing things right.

Contrarian: Gay, he/they, demiboy and hella gnc... in the sense that none of their outfits make any cohesive sense, and are an absolute mess of patterns and styles. His little-shit energy extends to his gender expression.

Cheated: Pansexual, he/him, trans. He's a simple jeans-and-t-shirts kinda guy, though I think he'd also wear leather jackets purely for the extra protection.

Stubborn: Gay, he/him, cis. Maybe "bear" isn't quite the right word, but he definitely comes from the Elliot Spencer school of masculinity. Big buff guy with long hair who can and will kick the shit out of you but is also a protective soul.

Broken: Bisexual, he/him... questioning his gender, but he doesn't focus much on it. He's in the "I only wear sweatpants and hoodies because I have no energy to do anything else" stage.

Cold: Gay, he/him, definitely genderqueer and only really uses "he" because it's easier. Google "mall goth" and you get a picture of him.

Paranoid: Aroace, he/they, trans. He's always dressed weirdly nice for the occasion, though it's mostly so he can stim with a tie or cuff links. They're a fancy little dude.

Opportunist: Pansexual, they/them, non-binary. They're a little more alternative-leaning---toeing the line of being punk while not actually committing hard enough to it---but they do lean into the masc side of things more often than not. It's the only reason why they wear a pronoun pin.

Hunted: Queer, he/it, unlabeled. He has better things to do than worry about his gender or sexuality. It just wears whatever it finds in its closet on any given day.

Skeptic: Biromantic demisexual, he/him, cis. He dresses like a noir detective---button-up shirt, suspenders, slacks, maybe a trenchcoat when it's not too hot out. Also, he absolutely wears glasses.

Smitten: Pansexual, they/them, non-binary but only recently out. They always dress like they're on their way to a Ren Faire, and they like to mix up femme and masc styles. Always with a prop sword, though.

Vessels

Damsel: Bisexual, she/her, cis. She absolutely dresses in a fairytale-dream style---puffy, flowing dresses, flower crowns, ect.

Prisoner: Panromantic demisexual, she/her, cis. I picture her with a more academic style, either in pantsuits or just fancy blazers with a comfortable skirt. She wears glasses, too.

Nightmare: Aromantic bisexual, she/her, cis. The gothiest goth to ever goth. She scares children and grown adults with her creepy makeup.

Spectre: Queer, she/her, trans. She's also goth, but more of a whimsigoth type, and I think she's also got a lot of general witchy vibes to her. Also, I always picture her with dyed lavender hair for some reason.

Beast: Queer, she/it, unlabeled. Again, better things to do than figure out what the hell her sexuality and gender is. It's a cat and it's here to either eat, sleep, or play with its food.

Witch: Lesbian, she/they, demigirl. Weirdly enough, I kind of picture her having my own personal style---lots of flannels, graphic tees, jeans and converse. Maybe there's a little bit of whimsy in there when she wants to make an effort, but usually not.

Tower: Pansexual, she/her, cis. Depending on what genre she's in, she either dresses like a badass lady knight or a high-powered exec. General girlboss vibes.

Adversary: Lesbian, she/her, cis. Hardcore butch. In every way possible.

Razor: Lesbian, she/her, trans. Because I can't resist the pun, she's a total metalhead---lots of chains, lots of studded clothing, lots of piercings, lots of buckles, the whole nine yards. Yes, you can stick magnets to her.

Stranger: Queer, any and all but prefers they/them, genderfluid and intersex. I like to think that they have different "fashion modes" depending on how they feel on different days---sweatpants and a hoodie for when they're feeling down, an alternative vibe for when they want to feel scary, a masculine vibe for when they want to feel confident, a feminine vibe for when they want to feel pretty, and a crazy-patterns-all-rainbow vibe for when they just want to be weird. They're fun.

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kwaamfan · 11 months ago

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GAP the series language notes

i rewatched gap the series lately and noticed some stuff in the subtitles that weren't translated super well or could use a bit more explanation, and i figured i'd share some of it here in case anyone else might be interested:

ep. 1 [2/4] - ได้กัน means to have sex, so it's more like sam is saying family member shouldn't fuck each other

ep. 2 [1/4] 1:20 - sam uses the word ตัว as a second person pronoun to refer to mon for the first time here. ตัว is typically only used for very close friends or your SO, hence why mon asks sam in the second shot "did you just call me ตัว?" i think this is the only time it gets translated to babe in english but sam calls mon ตัว throughout the show. also worth noting that sam uses เรา to refer to herself when she talks to mon (it's usually a plural first person pronoun, some people use it in the singular case with close friends)

ep. 2 [1/4] 9:59 - more literally tee says "and how many times have i told you that (the name) martha is too expensive? jim is enough". tee is alluding to the fact that her name จิ๋ม is also slang for vagina

ep. 2 [1/4] 11:19 - tee is guessing kade played a showgirl. in thailand นางโชว์/showgirls (performers in cabaret) are usually cross dressing men or trans women, which tee doubles down on by using the term กะเทย. while กะเทย now often refers to trans people, historically กะเทย is closer to the term queer and was used as a slur to anyone deemed gay or gender non-conforming. imo this line in thai isn't nearly as rude as the english translation (particularly since many thai ppl would consider tee herself to be กะเทย), she's basically saying kade played a role like the one pictured above to the right

ep. 4 [2/4] 1:29 - the second line, ผีหยุมหัว, is an example of a คำผวน. this is a sort of play on words in thai where the first and last vowels in a phrase are swapped. so when kade says ผีหยุมหัว (literally a hair pulling ghost) she's implying ผัวหยุมหี - a husband touching (his wife's) vagina

ep. 5 [4/4] 2:04 - this is a pun in thai. aunt mhee asks mon if she has a ร้อนใน (canker sore); chin asks if mhee has any medicine for ร้อนตังค์ (money problems)

ep. 6 [2/4] 0:15 - the english translation says sam types girlfriend but this is incorrect, สาว just means girl

ep. 7 [2/4] 1:48 - what jim is really saying is that it's good kade didn't ride a carpet to get there (making a reference to her outfit)

ep. 9 [1/4] 11:33 - mon's parents sit on the floor when sam sits because sam is royalty. in thai culture commoners and those of lower rank are expected to have their head below royalty. these days this level of respect is usually only shown to monks and the king (so if you ever see a photo of a thai king sitting in a chair while everyone else is sitting on the floor, that's why). throughout the show mon's parents show a high level of respect towards sam and her royal title, despite her only being distantly related to the royal family and sam insisting that she doesn't need to be treated like royalty

#gap the series #thai #thai language #mine #obligatory not a native speaker but everything here has been vetted by one #i say lately but this has been sitting in my drafts half finished for like 3 months ^^;

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evereinefaust · 7 months ago

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. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ 𝐊𝐢𝐭 𝐊𝐚𝐭 𝐏𝐮𝐧 ࿐ྂ

Pairing: Tadashi Yamaguchi X afab!Reader

Synopsis: Yamaguchi surprises MC with a thoughtful gesture, offering her a Kit-Kat, which she enthusiastically accepts. Their interaction turns playful as MC dons cat ears and shares a pun inspired by the chocolate bar.

Word Count: 351

Yamaguchi: *enters the dining room* [Name]-chan?

Me: *turns to face the male* Yes, Tadashi-kun?

Yamaguchi: Um... *scratches head* What are you doing? *points to my phone*

Me: Hm? *points to my phone* This?

Yamaguchi: *nods*

Me: Oh, I'm just watching some videos on YouTube. *pauses video*

Yamaguchi: Oh...

Me: *looks at him* Anyways, do you need anything from me?

Yamaguchi: *blushes* Well... I'm just gonna ask you if you want some Kit-Kat. I know you like this kind of chocolates. *shows one bar of Kit-Kat*

Me: *eyes sparkle* Whoah! Of course, I would love some! *walks over to Yamaguchi*

Yamaguchi: *gives one bar to me* Here.

Me: *accepts chocolate and stares at it* Wah~! *looks back to the male* Thank you very much, Tada-nii! You're the best!

Yamaguchi: *blushes* W-well... *looks away while scratching head shyly* Y-you're welcome, [Name]-chan.

Me: *opens the bar and eats the chocolate* So delicious~! *cat smile*

Yamaguchi: *smiles while watching me*

[Cats, I'm a kitty cat song played]

Me: Huh? *walks over the phone to pause the video* I thought I paused this...

Yamaguchi: What was that song, [Name]-chan? *walks over to me*

Me: Oh, it's nothing. *shrugs then smile* It's a song that I just found. The name is 'Kitty Cat Song'.

Yamaguchi: *nods* I see.

Me: *light bulb appears* Tada-nii?

Yamaguchi: Yes, [Name]-chan?

Me: *puts on the white cat ear headband from the table* Meow~ *cat pose* Do I look cute?

Yamaguchi: *smiles* Yes.

Me: *giggles* Well, I just made up a pun that I want you to hear.

Yamaguchi: *nods* Okay, I'll listen to it.

Me: *places down the chocolate bar on the table and puts on a cat pose* Cats! I'm a Kit-Kat. And I dance, dance, dance. And I dance, dance, dance!

Yamaguchi: *chuckles* Kit-Kat?

Me: *smiles* Well, I guess I can say that the Kit-Kat you just gave me is the inspiration of the pun I made. Instead of the kitty cat, I used Kit-Kat.

Yamaguchi: *smiles* I supposed so.

Me: *grins* Tee-hee~

#fanfiction #fanfic #female reader #alternate universe #oneshot #one shot #reader insert #x reader #fluff #drabble #haikyuu #haikyu #yamaguchi tadashi

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heykickr0cks · 11 months ago

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𝚁𝚎𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝙾𝚏 𝚈𝚘𝚞

(I’ll add more as things come to me)

cigarette smoke

the color blue (your eyes)

the color orange (your favorite color)

thrift daddy

hobby enthusiast

the word "fast"

birria tacos

marshalls being a shitty place to work

Evan Williams

whiskey drinkin’

jorts

short sleeve button downs over graphic tees

88, Dale Jarrett

4 (29), Kevin Harvick

snoring

zero sugar diet Dr. Pepper

authenticity

maturity

"living by the bit"

"dying by the bit"

committing to the bit

running late but always showing up

sacrificing

self-control

futons

charisma

“3 for Dale”

sleepless nights

unwavering devotion to people

pork chops on the grill

illegal moonshine

youtube star

being loud with love

being expressive with words

being consistent with actions

fire pit on cold nights

"Beautiful Mess"

"I Am Hell"

turtles

love dumping

parallel play

"Sweetheart"

going left when nothing goes right

side hustling

country ham

NASCAR

"smooching"

infinity stones

Lorna Shore

hand-me-down vapes

checkerboard print

burtdays/ “another lap around the sun”

unwatched Netflix shows

Bioshock

3D modelin’

his and hers matching underwear

cosmic brownies

Bo Burnham "Five Years"

"damned if I do, damned if I don't"

"nothing worth havin comes easy"

mouth bones

friendaversaries

organizing shirts in the closet

laundry hacks (inside-outing clothes before instead of after)

Chick-fil-A sauce on chicken sandwich

late-night deep talks

cheesecake ratings

"rollie boys"

Sonic loaded dog and loaded tots

dirty vibrators

Plan B

boiling water to make coffee

"put those grippers away!"

Waffle House sauce

drinking coffee while driving, but from a mug

"Californication"

"little penis monster"

paint jobs

“perpetually”

porch sittin'

NASCAR puns

tie-dye DIY

teenage double dates

sleeping in

resume rough drafts

cat meme (*blocked*)

your grandmother's clothes

"There ain't no way that baby is 29!"

packed salad lunches

kitchen sink soup

NASCAR rubber duckies

Bearglove Old Spice scent

backward hats

"Be good or be good at it"

puzzle pieces

Mongolian mysterious secret sauce

shot glass organizing

oreo cookies

drum sets

storage units

eating at the dinner table

imaginative creativity

hobbies

detail-oriented

sweet tea

axolotls

receptiveness to criticism

sticker trendsetter

certified thrift whore

diecast

willingness to change for the better

willingness to accept responsibility/accountability

willingness to admit when wrong

"Yes, dear?"

personable

hates people

engaging

refrigerators

washer and dryers

"ouch!"

"scawwwy"

big words

dry, sarcastic humor

dirty chai teas

being observant

deep thinking (who/what/when/where/how)

Bojangles chicken

oyster-shucking gatherings

adjustable room lighting

writing

Mother’s Day Star Wars card “I love you. I know.”

Valentine's Day fun dip

homemade love coupons

role strain

country accents

picture posing

the hum of an air conditioning unit

Roku screensaver

being a “good sport"

Minecraft

quick to anger

quick to walk away

introvert

boiled peanuts

special occasion bottles of Knob Creek

house slippers

pajama pants

enamel pins

poetry

sushi picnics

Overcooked Kevin levels

employee discounts

Best Buy / Geek Squad

drinking alcoholic Monster

photo booth photo strips

mini Polaroids

“13 reasons why I love you”

spreadsheets

“skydaddy”

flat tires and dead batteries

Caesar dressing, but not Caesar salad

garlic parm flavored wings

going on tangents and ‘circling back’

ears

Mini Brands

rollie boy station pictures

Fallout

chicken quesadillas from Taco Bell

Eminem

MTG

… to be continued

#reminders for me #post breakup #sadgirlhours #vent post #babydownbad

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stevesbestgirl · 3 years ago

Text

20/20

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x GN!Little!Reader

1163 Words

Warnings: a few swears, marijuana use (reader smokes), accidental regression, mention of nightmares

A/N: Week 8 of the D20 Writing Event! So, I’m a dirty liar. I had something almost finished for this, but I decided I didn’t like it and started from scratch. Sorry it’s so late, but here it is! I really like how it came out, so I hope you all enjoy! Also, this roll is quite possibly the best of my life- in all my years of playing D&D, I’ve never rolled two nat (pun intended) 20′s at once and I’m a little mad I did it for this, but I had fun writing it, so I can’t complain too much. (I know the dice are on the wrong side, but it didn’t matter, so don’t @me)

“We’re in luck,” Natasha flashed the room key at you as she opened the trunk of the car.

“They had space for us?” You pushed off your place leaning on the passenger side and grabbed your own bag from the trunk.

“Just enough. Looks like we’re bunking together.”

“Sharing a room?”

“Sharing a bed. They only had a double.” Natasha was matter-of-fact, unbothered by that fact. But your heart sank; so much for cutting loose tonight. You couldn’t exactly regress and relax with Nat around. She glanced at you after a few moments of silence, “That alright? I figured you wouldn’t mind- not like I’m Steve or Barnes.”

“No,” you shook your head, “No, that’s fine.” You hefted your bag over your shoulder and followed her inside.

Once inside the room, you dropped your bag on the chair, “Go ahead and take the first shower, Nat. I’m gonna chill out for a minute.”

“Thanks, lovey. Be out in a few.” Natasha’s casual term of endearment was enough to make your heart skip.

Once she disappeared into the bathroom, you grabbed the keycard from the bedside table and the little box you kept in your bag. Out in the hallway, you pinched a joint between your lips while you dug for your lighter. Leaning on the railing, you lit the tip, closing your eyes and taking a deep drag; this would have to do for tonight.

You smoked half; too much and you would get a little too relaxed. You slipped back inside as Natasha left the bathroom, toweling her hair dry.

She wrinkled her nose, laughing, “Y’know, I’m not sure that’s legal in this state.”

“Not sure what you mean,” you smirked, tucking your box away. “Must be a skunk outside or somethin’. I’m an upstanding citizen, a public servant- I would never be tempted by the devil’s lettuce.”

Natasha snorted a laugh, drawing a giggle from you; your mind was growing pleasantly foggy. The weight from a long day was sliding off your shoulders. “You’d better go shower off that skunk smell if we’re sharing this bed. I can’t be getting a contact high; one of us has to keep a clear head.”

You offered a wry smile; you felt a little guilty leaving that burden with Nat, but you just didn’t have it in you tonight. You showered, the warm water relieving the rest of the tension in your shoulders. By the time you stepped out, dressed in a pair of sweats and a tee-shirt, you felt pleasantly fuzzy, ready to crash. The sooner you slept, the sooner you could get home.

Natasha had already claimed her side of the bed- the side closest to the door, you noticed. That little detail was another reason to relax; you knew you were the most junior member of the team, but Nat always made sure you were covered. She seemed to think of everything; you knew you were just as safe with her as you would be with Steve or Thor.

She glanced up from her book, “Feeling better?”

“Yeah,” you agreed. “Wait, what do you mean?” You hadn’t mentioned feeling overwhelmed.

“You seemed stressed.”

Of course she noticed. “Yeah, guess I was. Thanks.”

She half-smiled, patting the bed, “Well, hop in, snuggle up. We’ll wanna head out early tomorrow.”

“Careful what you’re offering,” you chuckled, hoping she didn’t notice the flush in your face, “You’ll wake up in the middle of night to me clinging to you.”

“Better you than Tony,” she grinned.

You climbed in on your side, taking care to give Nat her space, “Good night. And thanks for covering my ass today.”

“Anytime, lovey. Night.” She marked her place in her book and set it on the nightstand before flipping off the desk lap.

The affectionate nickname made your breath catch the second time around; you hoped Nat didn’t notice. Laying next to her, knowing she was keeping you safe, even while you slept, it tugged at the edges of your consciousness, pulling you under. You hadn’t wanted to regress around Nat, but if you were just going to sleep, it couldn’t hurt. You clutched the blanket close to your face, covering the way your thumb drifted to your mouth.

Your breathing grew deep and even until you fell asleep, finally feeling relaxed and safe. But the day’s stress wasn’t quite finished with you yet, nightmares slinking into your dreams, corrupting the peace you’d found there. Still asleep, a soft whimper escaped your lips, rousing Natasha. She fumbled for the lamp, trying to locate the threat and finding the room empty.

She peered over at you as you made another fearful noise, realizing you were having a bad dream. She gently brushed her hand over your shoulder, “Lovey, it’s alright. Wake up.” When you didn’t wake, she tugged the blanket down from your face, pausing at the sight of your thumb slackly held between your lips. At that, she blinked in surprise, green eyes scanning your face; how had she never noticed before?

She didn’t want to wake you; you would be embarrassed and you’d never go back to sleep then. So she flipped the lamp back off, cuddling close and wrapping an arm around your waist to provide some comfort. The way your shoulders trembled made her heart ache; she wanted to fix whatever was wrong.

You murmured something she couldn’t make out, so she urged in a whisper, “What’s the matter, little dove? Tell me.”

“M-Mommy,” you whined, fidgeting under the weight of her arm and stirring slightly. Another whine slipped out and your eyes fluttered open, suddenly aware of the weight on your side, “Wha-” Your mind was hazy, both from sleep and the weed, half-conscious and partially regressed.

“Hey,” Natasha cooed, shushing you softly. “I’m here, lovey. Go back to sleep.”

“But-” You were reeling, unsure if this was real or if you were still dreaming.

“Mommy’s got you,” she said, brushing her hand over your arm.

With a sleepy groan, you rolled over to face her, tucking your head under her chin and allowing her to hold you closer.

She rubbed your back, whispering, “There’s my good little dove. You’re safe.” She murmured praises and encouragement until your breathing grew even again, chuckling softly to herself once you were asleep again, “You’re full of surprises, aren’t you, little one?”

You woke the next morning to Natasha’s urging, “Time to get up, lovey. We’ve got to get going soon.” It wasn’t until you felt her fingers tracing circles between your shoulder blades that you remembered the dreamlike scene from the night before.

“Oh, shit.”

Natasha’s voice had a little edge to it, “None of that now. We don’t talk like that.”

You pulled back to meet her gaze, face hot with embarrassment, “Sorry.”

She cupped your chin with a finger, “You’re gonna behave for me, aren’t you dovey?”

She was gazing at you expectantly, a soft smile gracing her lips, and you felt yourself nod.

#natasha x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x little!reader #natasha romanoff x little!reader #mommy!nat x little!reader #mommy!nat #d20 writing event

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missgeniality · 4 years ago

Text

Opaline Moon (m)

“The Moon can never breathe, but it can take our breath away with the beauty of its cold, arid orb.” - Munia Khan

➺ Banner: @hobiandsprite 💕

➺ Pairing: Seokjin x Female Reader

➺ Trope: Friends to Lovers, Idol!AU

➺ Genre: Angst, Smut, Fluff

➺ Rating: 18+

➺ Word Count: 11.2k

➺ Summary: You are ingrained to love Jin, right upto the blood that courses through your veins. Confessing, however, is a whole other game. So it’s a good thing you’re bad at keeping your hands to yourself, because happenstance can handle the rest.

➺ Warnings: talks about dance floor fucking, making out in the bar bathroom, fingering, pussy slapping, passing out drunk, daydreams about thigh riding, reader masturbates, they make out A LOT, neck kissing, a hickey, nipple play, some biting, cum eating (kind of, you’ll see), blowjob, protected sex!, reader and jin are corny, the hurt is real but the sex is real-er

➺ Author’s Note: My lovely, lovely moots - @taegularities, @kithtaehyung and @baepsaetan, thank you so much for betaing this and hyping it up, your comments made this fic a hundred times better! As I mentioned on the teaser, this fic took a lot out of me, but I thoroughly enjoyed writing the angst and will write more whenever the story aligns! I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I did writing, and I hope this lovable Jin reaches your heart! (ngl, in usual fashion, I will come back and edit it again, so if you see a spelling mistake, your eyes are lying to you) Do let me know what you think, your asks and comments make my day!

This is the second part of my Dress Down series, find more at it’s masterlist!

ɴᴀᴠɪɢᴀᴛɪᴏɴ | ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ

Sweltering heat. Blaring traffic. Little to no sleep. Through all things wrong, one man’s thoughts wrapped around you like a cooling breeze, a shield to protect you from the vicissitudes of reality, to draw you back into all of him. Unfortunately, your reality may never see that day come to light.

Kim Seokjin.

Kim Seokjin, the man who cooked you up a greasy break-up meal at three in the morning with not a sight of discomfort, putting your needs above all.

Kim Seokjin, whose puns make you roll your eyes heavenward, half awed at how he manages to pull one out of his collection at a moment's notice, and half irked by the untimely laugh it brings out of you.

Kim Seokjin, the man who will never be yours, and you have no one to blame but yourself.

One could argue that the miscommunication that had caused this present condition was two-way. If you had stopped him, corrected him, let him know the truth… you wouldn’t have to resort to the extreme measures you’re currently entangled in. One would also say, you are trying to redeem your mistake by trying too hard. Surely, everyone and their mothers could see through your ruse.

This is the fourth time you’re visiting Jin for his BE shoot - a shoot taking place two hours away from the city, disguised under various layers of secrecy to prevent any leakage of the album concept, or Jin in general. Of course, you had been made privy to such exclusive information, because you and Jin were ‘best friends’.

Best. Friends.

Nothing more, nothing less.

Best friends. The term you coined for (and forced upon) the bond you had. The bond that was too close to sprouting into something new, something fresh, something that was filled with glimmering allure and dragged you in like quicksand. But also, it reeked of commitment, of shadows, of newness that you hadn’t felt in the longest time, and fear of already being far too deep in without even taking the first step.

The loud thrum of some internet kid’s new hit pulses through the air of the club as bundles of couples occupy the dance floor, laughing and gyrating to a song that, in your opinion, most definitely does not suit gyrating. But with enough of the weekend happy hours intake combined with hormone-riddled minds, one could very well throw it back to a church choir.

You weave through the drunken bodies, trying not to spill the precariously held three drinks in your hands, making your way to your inner circle, the only people to blame for dragging you to this slosh-fest.

“Y/N!”

Somehow Hoseok’s voice can echo across the club, but you didn’t even need his addressal because Jin’s laughter is loud enough to navigate anyone to your table. Seeing you struggle with the glasses (and mostly the crowd, with some of them living their exhibitionist dreams), Hoseok gets up to assist you.

“I swear, if I see one more couple pretending to be dancing as they rub one off of each other’s thighs, the black market will have my eyes.”

“Oh yeah?” Jin’s breathy voice interjects your black-market dreams, still bursting in short laughs from whatever sent him rolling before your arrival. “Why don’t you go join them?”

“And whose thigh is she taking, yours?” Yeji snorts out, one hand holding her nebula blue drink, the other wrapped around Hoseok, urging him to come closer. Jin’s features scrunch into a cringe, and you’re thankful for the dim lighting because the disappointment in your features does not reach them.

“The only action these leather pants are getting is in the damned laundromat,” he points to his shiny trousers, “some jerk dropped his drink on it.”

“You could be the first person to give some chick an orgasm and a yeast infection.” Hoseok giddily adds, his fifth shot clearly making a mess of his brain cells.

Jin claps and gets up to move away from the group. “Better than a pregnancy!” he yells, before zigzagging through the crowd, possibly to the restroom. He is on his third cocktail, and you’d think cocktails are lighter drinks. But in this bar, their taps just seem to flow with tequila, and it is very evident in the way Jin is currently walking.

His absence hits you harder than you think, but it might be the alcohol talking. Jin has always been the mood-maker of the group, the one who brings everyone together. Of late though, his magnetic persona has been an irritant in your life. Any outing you two take, any chance you have to come clean about the burgeoning crush you have on him, is effectively disrupted by one of his posse. And today, Hoseok and Yeji took that trophy.

“Earth to Y/N. Has the cocktail finally broken you?”

You flutter your eyes in a manic fashion, to disperse the daydream you were indulging yourself in, and bring your attention back to the couple calling for you. Surprisingly, they have stood up, Yeji emptying the last of her neon drink.

“What happened?”

“We are going to the club nearby, they have better stuff. And that’s code for ‘they actually add water to the drink and the surround sound doesn’t shatter your ear drum’.’”

She isn’t wrong. The cocktails and music here are a 19-year-old frat party dream, not something the working class can digest. But you’re tired at this point, and don’t want to be smothered by someone else’s love life when your own is down the dumps.

“You guys carry on! I’ll tell Jin where you are and he’ll meet you there!”

You watch as Hoseok and Yeji lead each other to the exit, hands circling their partner’s waist. They giggle on and on, about nothing and everything, and it only hardens the emptiness you feel inside you.

Why can’t you gather the balls to spit your feelings out? What could possibly go wrong? Yes, you may lose one of your closest friends, but is this friendship really worth the agony? The bitterness you feel when you see any couple enjoying themselves? The anger you harbor whenever Jin tells you about his dates? The heartache, when he hugs you and tells you that you’re the best thing that’s happened to him… as a friend? Is it? Your plastered brain tells you to not make any rash decisions, so you don’t, instead choosing to get up and search for your best friend.

The corridor leading to the washrooms is dimly lit, throwing a merlot filter over your eyesight, making you squint in search of your friend. You being shitfaced does not help, and while relishing in your floating wooziness, you see Jin come out, and feelings you’ve held at bay for so long slither through your currently porous defenses.

He has always been good-looking. He himself has said so a dozen times.

But wow.

His hair lays messily atop his beautiful face, unkempt, like a breeze of beauty swept across his mighty looks and displaced every strand, causing disarray, but even the disarray only frames his superior looks and adds to its potent charm. The black, patchy sweater hanging loose off his broad shoulders makes you feel things you shouldn’t feel as a friend. That stupid gut of yours is currently screaming, yelling for all hands on deck, trying to block all the feelings from gushing in and sending you into overdrive.

By the time you can gather yourself to stop from giving in to those dangerous thoughts, Jin has crossed the distance between you, coming close, too close. Chocolate-brown eyes peer into your soul, searching for whichever fantasy you chose to lose yourself in. His eyes flit down to notice your rumpled dress that has found its way a couple of inches above its designated spot. His gaze returns to yours, but not without a newfound hardness, an almost steely glaze over the kindness that you usually find in the chocolate pools, accentuated under the garnet lighting.

“Hey, umm…” You beg for a reprieve, from your thoughts, from your filthy mind, from the way he is eyeing your cleavage, or just for the burning between your legs. You’re about to make some serious mistakes, you can feel it down to your bone.

You’re far too overdressed.

You knew it when you were in the process of getting dressed, but right now, you feel it much more - you look like a shiny disco ball orbiting amidst the plethora of loose tees, leggings and flannels. Everything screams comfort, because the amount of work they’re putting into this begs for it.

The strappy lace sundress you wear is extremely out of place, the halter-neck tie behind your neck fastened a little looser than necessary, giving your breasts the exposure they deserve, a nice valley view. Your dress skirt, adorned with pretty frills and dainty flowers, cut across your thigh to frame your petite hips. You are one floppy sun hat away from an extravagant Greek cruise - and in the moment you wish you had one to hide your face in shame.

You’re just out here, trying to escape the zone.

“Oh, would you look at the time, it’s tits out Tuesday already?”

Your eyes roll before Sanghoon even finishes his sentence, because you wouldn’t expect anything else from him. On the team of the set design, he is carrying a whole drapery worth of plush, mauve curtains, struggling with the slipping fabric. But apparently not struggling enough to stop him from getting his nose into your business, it seems.

“Literally not even a time you just mentioned. Can’t get one thing right.” You can’t stop yourself from stretching a hand out to feel the curtain fabric, the satiny sheets begging to be touched. Before you can though, Sanghoon moves away, not allowing you to shift the focus of the conversation.

“Don’t steer away from the facts. Your tits.”

“That’s the fact?”

“They’re out.” He bucks up, trying to point with the hand stuffed underneath all the cloth. “That’s the fact.”

“Ugh, can’t a girl dress up once in a while?” The pointed attention makes you uncomfortable, because everything he’s insinuating is true. With every passing staff member, you count a new shade of grey, interspersed with occasional blacks and greens, a stark contrast to your floral overtones. Amidst the thousand footsteps taken in your vicinity, only yours are pointed heels, echoing across the studio with every clack. But you’re a stubborn one, refusing to give in to his totally valid argument. “I just woke up early.”

“Girl.” Like light through frosted glass, he sees through your bullshit, but only partially. “You put an alarm to dress up? I have nightmares of the boss brandishing her whip and telling me to get into position, and even that doesn’t wake me up.”

“Have you ever considered… not announcing your kinks to everyone and their sisters?”

“Ehh,” he simply shrugs, “nothing is new when you’ve serenaded your boss drunk in a karaoke bar and still managed to keep your job. Wait. Is that highlighter?”

“Stop staring into my tits!” You can’t believe you got caught, but also, who can you blame? After testing this outfit out from the crack of dawn, you decided your cleavage needed some extra help. Three YouTube tutorials and one TikTok lady - who make it look far easier than it is - down, the contouring brought out the swell of your breasts, and against the light fabric of your dress, it does look too good to be true.

Memories of that night in the bar come in billows and waves, of how enamored Jin was with the way your boobs looked at that time. Even under the dingy lighting, in the cramped space, under heavily inebriated scrutiny, you couldn’t miss the flicker of heat in his gaze every time it passed your chest.

One thing led to another, and it was a cascade none of you could stop. The heat of attraction between you two does not help your wandering mind, and the fever drowns the knowledge that what you’re feeling is, beyond a shadow of a doubt, crossing some lines that can never be mended back again. With the proximity, his musky scent invades whatever defenses you were trying to patch, piercing through all your inhibitions and you pull him into you, claiming his lips to be yours.

With his wobbly knees and your wobbly heels, you somehow find your way to the washroom - mostly he does, you give in halfway to wrap your legs around his lean waist, his sturdy legs balancing your weight on them as your back hits the wall, and his lips tear down your walls.

“You look so fucking sexy today,” between bated breaths and indulgent sighs you confess, “just driving me nuts.” Letting your hands drag along his abdomen, feeling the ups and downs of his abs, you attempt to rid him of the sweater that’s been on your hit list all night. But to your dismay, your endeavor is blocked, when Jin gathers your wrists in his palm, turning you around to bend you over on the countertop, the smooth marble chill hitting your braless chest, perking your nipples under the cold.

“And you?” Jin bends to give your earlobe a languid lick, progressing very slow, a complete contrast to the movement of his hips as he ruts against your ass, your already short dress bunching up with every move. “You think it’s smart to have your tits torment me like this?” Grabbing a handful from behind, he tests the weight of each fleshy mound, and by now you are certain your perked nubs can pierce his palm.

His free hand, not yet torturing you, decides to get in on the action and disappears under the counter, swiftly crossing the bunched fabric of your dress, gaining easy access to your pussy. The cold touch of his pads sears against the heat of your core, finding your pleasure button and languidly fiddling with it, with no intention to cross you over the brink in sight. The only pleasure you can indulge in is the reflection of him abusing your nipples, pinching and tugging them down, whispering filthy words into your ear as he takes in your fucked out countenance.

You feel lacking, weak hands balancing your dizzy self, finding purchase to keep you upright - but you’re both drunk on alcohol and hypnotized by his beauty to do much more than stare at his mirrored counterpart. “For fuck’s sake, kiss me.”

How he understood your slurred words, you don’t know, but you are glad he did. In a moment you’ve been displaced, the hurried motion sending your neurons into a flurry. Once your back meets the hard marble, and your eyes have the privilege to see his, you pull him in closer, the force enough to hold you against the wall while your legs wrap around his lean waist.

Originally not a fan of drunken misadventures, that side of yours is strangely mute to the going current onslaught. Well, you don’t have much breath left to say anything, because Jin is efficiently stealing it all, his teeth clashing with yours as you engage in the messiest kiss ever known to mankind (or at least, to you). He changes pace often, dragging his tongue leisurely against your lower lip, conveying tacit words, just to switch it up with a sharp bite and reel you in.

One corner of your senses can feel his fingers messing around your cunt, and playing with the wetness your thong can barely contain. It makes you shudder, the damage that his fingers can cause solely circling around your hole.

“Fuck me.”

In your drunken stupor, you don’t know if the words leave you right, but you get confirmation when his long fingers finally penetrate your cunt, giving your walls something to clench on - although nothing could possibly compare to what you imagine you can get from his dick.

“God, you feel that grip,” he grunts, with two of his fingers in you, and Jin’s smile is the most sinister you’ve ever seen. “I think we should take this home,” is what his lips utter, but his fingers delve deeper, searching for the spot that crumbles you. The base of his palm grinds against your throbbing clit, and you are forced to bite down on this sweater, lest an embarrassingly loud moan escapes you and cues outsiders into your filthy doings.

“Now,” you half-hiss, half-growl as you grab the cusp of his legs to feel his half-hard erection grow under the pressure of your hand. Your palm sliters up just to go down again, this time without the blockade of his pants, but you are stopped short of success when Jin’s fingers slip out of you to give you a sharp swat.

“Stubborn, aren’t we? Can’t fucking wait,” he whispers into your ear, and as he envelops your lobe with his cushiony lips, he continues, “I don’t want to hurt you.”

No, no, no.

Your brain rejects logic, chews and spits it out before any of the rationale seeps into you. You have wanted this for far too long. The need inside you for a meaningful relationship materializes in the form of recklessness, desperately looking for surface-level relief for the moment. A night of sewing sutures to your battle-worn heart, stitches that may come off at the slightest strain - but right now, that will do.

“Please, Jin,” your tantalizing tone riles up his cock again, eagerly waiting for your next words, “can’t you feel me dripping? Come on, I can take you.”

“Fuck, hear that wetness.” He lets his palm slap against your sopping entrance, not stopping with one. With every slap, droplets of your arousal splash out, the insides of your thighs coated in the sticky sweetness, but your body is an endless reservoir producing plentiful more for Jin to play with. “Have you been sitting with this all this time?”

Two long fingers invade your channel again, leaving you with no response other than a gasp. They scissor incessantly, preparing you for what could be the railing of your lifetime. One curl inside and his fingertips hit the spot he was looking for, making you warp your body to take the pleasure coursing through your veins. His tongue seems to mimic the actions, looping around your earlobe as he sucks it inside, both ends of your body engulfed in all the attention he could provide.

Your cunt is weeping against the assault of this man’s hands, tears of your cum flowing down your legs with every pump of his arm. You are getting there, the sweet swell of release inching closer and closer.

But something doesn’t feel right.

The tightness in your belly, that is to a point caused by Jin, is harboring other sensations that are not entirely pleasant. Maybe you’re anxious about the happenings. Maybe you haven’t had a good orgasm in a while and have just forgotten how this thing works.

Or maybe, the bar should have the water tap actually give out water.

Either your eyes close, or your brain does, but suddenly all you can see is darkness.

Again, you are just trying to escape the zone.

“Step under those studio lights,” pointing at the too-bright stage lights being set up at the moment, Sanghoon continues, breaking your daydream, “I bet you could signal to aliens with the booby-reflection. Call them to Netflix and chill.”

“In about five seconds, my heel will be puncturing your eye. Don’t say I didn’t warn you!”

Sanghoon’s drivel was cut short, and so were your murder plans, with his entry. “Oh look, he’s on set. Gotta go!”

It’s like the lights, earlier threatening to burn away your skin, dim down in reverence of the glow of his face. The twinkle of his eyes when they meet yours. The shine of his smile when he throws you one. The vibrance of his tone when he calls out your name. Everything he does now threatens to burn you whole and it’s a wonder you’re not scalding, but the singe hurts you deep inside.

“Y/N! How do I look?” It’s a bathrobe. Like satin, or silk. Fucking hell, your brain could explode with the adjectives coming up, a whole chunk of them very much inappropriate to utter out in the current scene. Your arms want to rise, engulf him into you, and you have to physically halt the muscles from doing anything stupid. Brain, quick! Say something snarky and spicy, as best friends do!

“What’s the theme, unicorn puke?” The safest way to deflect is to attack. So you do just that. “You look like you dressed out of Hannah Montana’s closet. Which if it's true, I really need to see it. There’s a top that I’ve been eyeing for decades!”

“Don’t say decades.” Jin’s eyes crinkle in humor. “Makes me feel so old. Your dress is pretty cool too!”

Cool.

You find out how difficult life can be when you count every single minute of yours. So far, you have counted 4,310 minutes. That is two days, twenty-three hours, and fifty minutes. Ten more minutes and it will be three whole days since you and Jin spoke.

Yet again, you can’t blame him. When you came to the next day, you were in your bed, clad in the same shimmering silver bodycon that you had donned last night. The same one that had been privy to the colorful deeds you had committed in what was a dreary, colorless setting.

One ibuProfen and ginger ale, downed with some severe recollections of the previous night, and you had been ready to throw it all up again.

I don’t want to hurt you.

Words couldn’t describe what you were going through, and numbers weren’t invented to count the endless thoughts racing in your brain. You don’t know what is more upsetting. The fact that you actually had a chance to open your heart and you totally let your pussy think instead? Or that he was the one coherent enough to stop you from getting too far, and you let your desperation get the best of you? Everything about that night was wrong. And all the wrongs lie on your side.

I don’t want to hurt you.

In the moment, it was physical, he had to have meant that. But there was a tremor in his voice, you can remember clear as day, a slightly shaken side of him had emerged through the intoxication, and the words he had breathed were not shallow. There was a gravity to them, that you’d stupidly ignored in the heat of the moment.

And now, here you are. Counting up till the last minute, after which you can effectively call the friendship ruined. Stirring your tea mindlessly, you try to focus on the show on TV, the variety show comedy not striking the usual funny bones that they could 4,311 minutes ago.

The programmed ding of your phone bursts your thought bubble, a sound you have missed the past 72 hours. The ring you dedicated to Jin, that always had you running to receive because anything he sends brightens your day. But unlike those happier times, this ring has your gut fall into a pit of despair, struggling to choose between dispersing the suspense or remaining blissfully unaware of the damage you caused.

Jin: Free tmrw? We could grab coffee Jin: And talk

Talk. How? You barely remember what went down, save for fleeting moments that you recollected with great difficulty. Your fingers type back, trying to mimic the nonchalance in his text, that is very much absent in your actual demeanor.

Y/N: Sure. Paik’s at 1? Jin: Yup. See ya

Three texts, zero laughs. Of course, you’re not expecting him to land his jokes in this situation, even someone as talented as he can’t flip this tension. You’re just going to have to wait for tomorrow, when he decides whether you have a place in his life or not.

The painstakingly worn outfit, accessorizing the whole look, the straps of your heels digging into your toes, the specks of makeup dust lying stale on your collar bones, the shine faints at that word. Cool. A perfectly normal phrase for a normal friendship. You are left maimed, while he absent-mindedly tends to the rope of his robe, blissfully unaware of the cyclonic emotions churning inside you. All you can possibly do is gulp it down.

He runs his hands through his hair, beautiful locks coming out of place, and from one corner of the set, a groan of anguish emerges.

“Oppa! Don’t play with your hair and face.” A masked lady runs forward waving combs that look like artillery, “We just got done setting it!”

Some finger guns, a happy apology, and some silly jokes later, all the stylists merrily round up to undo his doing, and Jin signals to you to catch up later. And as he walks away, the strings tugging at your heart reappear, as they do every time you come to meet him.

You have a masochistic streak in you, putting yourself through this every day, when he had made it clear, that you two never stood a chance.

As if things aren’t already difficult, he looks like a dream.

Soft, snowy skin gleaming like it has personal lighting wherever it goes, you get flashes of the rarely witnessed sweat on his skin, from the ferocity of last night. He’s blowing away the foam of his cappuccino, and tiny bubbles float into the air before falling flat on the table, like an animated shine that follows him along. God has His favorites, and God makes sure all the lighting in the world is perfect for these favorites.

In no hurry, you wait at the counter to get your latte. After receiving it though, you can’t linger any longer and drag yourself to the table of doom.

“Hey.”

If the rasp in your voice is evident, he doesn’t show any recognition on his face. But you’ve learned to never trust an acting major.

“Hi. How are you doing?”

Inadvertently, a snicker escapes your lips. “Are you interviewing me for a job?” you joke, trying to disperse the heavy air, filled with unspoken words. “If so, at least know that I’m very expensive.”

The familiar windshield wiper laugh does not greet you. Dead silence does. The half-smirk he painfully gives you is heavy, and the furrowed brows haven’t an inkling of joy. It shoots daggers in your heart, to know that you are the reason for this jolly man’s despondency.

“Listen, I don’t think we should skirt around the issue too much. It happened, these things happen. You think Hoseok and Yeji didn’t have sex before making it official?”

His matter-of-fact nature isn’t new to you. Jin has always been a very practical man. Regardless of his inane sense of humor, his logical point of view has always been flawless.

But right now, at this very moment, logic isn’t what you are looking for. You are looking for answers, but as far withdrawn from logic as possible, to take the edge off of the tension-laden air that surrounds your table.

“Yeah, but even… unofficially… we aren’t a thing, right?”

Your abrupt question takes Jin unaware, almond eyes widening, like a toddler caught in an act.

“No, no! Of course not! I would never!”

His confession slips out with an ease that hurts you, digs deep to carve out the part of you that dreamt of anything more. Your eyes fall to your knees to avoid his perceptive gaze, the sting clear as the sky on a summer day.

You force a smile and continue. “Then there’s no issue. Anyway,” you gulp your coffee down, burning your throat, but it's a distraction from the burning inside, “I need to get to work. Anything else?”

He’s still searching you, for what, you can’t possibly fathom. From the looks of it, he should be happy with this homeostasis; he doesn’t even know what this means for you. To still stay suspended in limbo, not being able to move up or down, to continue having thorns digging into your beating soul as you watch him like nothing bothers your already frail feelings. Scene by scene, you can visualize the future, him distancing himself from you as he finds the one he calls his, with you left in the shadows. Your knees tremble in fear of the impending future.

Seeing you in a tizzy, he calls out, the voice too loud for the cafe and your mind’s prison cage.

“We’re still best friends, right?” If you knew better, you’d say his expression is that of sadness, of regret. But your judgment is clouded with your own bothers, and you interpret it as a look of pity. Like a lovesick puppy, kicked to the streets, with nowhere to call home.

“Yeah! Always.” You give it as much enthusiasm as you can muster.

Best friends.

Ropes wind around your heart, tugging and causing the deep ache that sets in as you walk back into your dreary building. Each string pulls you into a different dimension where you could move on, where you could be okay with the setting you had just agreed to. Where you would keep up your end of the promise and truly remain friends with him.

But no matter how strong the tug, your heart never yields, never lets go of the castle of dreams you built, staying steadfast in its own misery, choosing to hope, choosing to live the life of unrequited love.

“And that’s a wrap! Good job everyone!”

Applause and hurrays echo across the set to bring you back to the present. The shoot has officially concluded, which means it's time for your most favorite and least favorite part of the day - Jin and you doing best friend things, like grabbing lunch, gossiping about obnoxious coworkers, threatening to disembowel each other (in Mortal Kombat, of course) and other friendly activities.

Ever so respectful, Jin takes his time thanking every member of the set, regardless of whether they moved a cushion or held the reflector screen for hours. All the women gush over his beauty, reminding him of how, even amidst the glowing ornaments, his face was the brightest. His responses vary, from quiet little giggles, to complimenting the crew for making it happen, to straight up owning his charisma like a boss. That’s your man.

Well, not quite. Not one bit.

After exhausting the handshakes and hugs to be received, Jin walks to you, hands pushing his robe back to give it a cape like effect. You’re just glad that the man’s child persona still stays with him, no matter the situation. He guides you to his green room, cracking his bones on the way, (very sexily, might you add).

“Holding a pose for that long gives me cramps! You’d think dancing breaks my back, and you’d be wrong.”

You’re desperately avoiding looking at his fingers, and keep your eyes below them - shoot! His ceaseless stretching gives you a glimpse under his shirt - it is dragging your memories back to the last time you saw them, and you’d rather not. It is hurting you in more ways than one.

Eye contact is your safest bet. Looking up, you give him a lopsided grin. “Your grandfatherly days are approaching, Jinnie.”

“Hey!”

The rest of the conversation was less speaking, more yelling and chasing after each other to the green room, Jin taking mock-offence at your jab at his age, and his fingers reaching out to flick your forehead in retort. In your noisy, messy fashion, you both finally enter the room, dim gold light bulbs and shiny mirrors meeting your huffing self.

One hand on your knee, you hold on to Jin’s arm with your other, gasping for breath.

“Your grandmotherly days are already here, Y/N,” he snorts, and earns a kick on the shin, but that doesn’t stop him from bursting into snickers.

“Wow, why does one man need 4 mirrors?” You gape at his current green room, mouth wide open. It looks better than your entire apartment, with the counter carrying top-of-the-line makeup products. Only the best for this man. “So you can admire yourself from 4 different angles?”

Jin has disappeared into one of the inner rooms, but you can hear him snort at your comment. “Come on, I’m not that conceited. When the whole crew shoots together, the extra mirrors help.” The last part of that sentence is muffled, and that cues you into an important fact.

Jin is currently changing into something more comfortable.

A process that includes him getting naked.

Well maybe he doesn’t get fully naked, top on, top off, bottom on, bottom of-

Still. You’re sweating like a whore in church.

And things only get tougher when he finally comes out.

The ocean blue sweater he dons is tucked in. Who tucks in sweaters? Kim Seokjin. Why does he tuck sweaters? Oh, because he’s got an amazing waistline that he should most definitely show off, and the heat between your thighs becoming increasingly potent is a testament to that. You pretend to adjust your heels, giving the right expressions to show you’re in pain, but in actuality you are bringing your legs closer to get you some relief, just any relief.

Ripped jeans too. You get a peek of the thighs you were denied access to the night of the fuckening. Ridged and beautiful, not a speck in sight to mar his perfection. You are glad the facial expressions for pain and pleasure are not far apart, because your thighs, albeit very lacking, are helping the imagery in your head. Just Jin, seated on one of these leather chairs, and you straddling his thigh, clit aching against the strands of the rips in his denim, the fabric soaking up the wetness, with every push forwa-

“Now that you mention it, I do look dashing.”

And there goes that dream.

You pinch his cheeks in adoration, the vulgarity of your thoughts getting whitewashed by his silliness and blooming heart-shaped flowers in their stance. You feel your own pinch in you, wondering if this scene would be the same had you blurted your feelings out that day at the cafe.

It's times like these when you remind yourself why you choose to quieten that side. This dynamic cannot reincarnate in any other form. Any imbalance to this equilibrium could cause a serious case of best-friends-turn-awkward-acquaintances, and you don’t know if that’ll hurt you more than you currently do. You don’t plan on finding out.

But on God, he tests that resolution every single day.

Jin doesn’t even hint that he knows of the turmoil blasting behind your eyes. He nonchalantly fixes his hair, gives you a one-over as you are mentally undressing him, nonchalantly as well. Then he moves to grab his cologne, and two spurts disintegrates all the whitewashing and takes you back into the obscenities you were unfolding.

“So I’ll just go over the shoot photos, and then we can leave! You’re cool waiting here?”

“Hmmn, yeah!” You don’t let your mouth run any longer, fearing what might slip out.

He gives you a wide, innocent smile. “Great! See you in a bit.” Poor guy. If only he knew how debase plans you were conjuring just from the aroma of his cologne.

It is musky, like cedar or pine, perfectly suiting him. It is the same scent you remember inhaling, face stuffed in his sweater when he was fingering you to the tenth circle of hell. As he walks away, the fragrance diminishes, save for the slightest hint of lingering. You search for the source, and find the culprit strewn across the sofa.

The outfit Jin wore for the shoot held remnants of the perfume, and when you bring the shirt close and take a long, deep whiff, you transport yourself to the land of your dreams. You relish the fever smell of his cologne, mixed with his own natural scent, deciding that this is what you wish to smell like every waking morning.

Your longing for him has crossed way beyond physical boundaries. You longed for his love, longed for his attention. Longed to be the one that brings the light to his face. From morning rays to the darkness of the night, you wanted to experience it all by his side. To be his lone star, shining bright beside the moon.

Your hands are moving without your control, disrobing you of your thirst trap of a dress and putting on Jin’s shirt instead. One look at the mirror and you let out a silent groan - it fits you just right. Just enough to cover your ass cheeks, loose enough to let the air conditioning hit your heated pussy. While well-fitting shirts have never been the cornerstone of a successful relationship, your delusional mind takes whatever wins it gets.

Adding layers to your pipe dream, you don the robe that gave you a tough time throughout the shoot. When you press the tails of the robe to your cheek, the softness of the material is soothing. Soft, like Jin’s eyes, like his hugs, like his smile. Like him.

Leaning against the counter, you steady yourself, mind split in titillation. Your fingers find their own path, drawing circles on your breasts over his shirt, imagining Jin’s long fingers in place. While teasing your nipple to pointed peaks, you slip your other hand under your panties, trying very hard to mimic his digits, twiddling your clit between your fingers. Alas, the effect isn’t achievable, because Jin seems to know how to play you better than yourself.

The scent is getting stronger, without any provoking, and it is doing wonders for your immersion. You let out a loud moan when your fingers press inside, and you’re just glad no one can witness this.

“Y-Y/N?”

Fuck.

You are pulled away from your dreamland that was so impenetrable that you didn’t hear Jin step into the room. All the blood gushing to your nether regions has made a U-turn to flood your brain to think of a plausible explanation for this position. Instead it makes you giddy, and when you try to stand you wobble in your heels, to be rescued by what you think is a very scandalized Jin.

Time stands still when your eyes meet, and what you see are blown out pupils trembling, many questions fluttering between you two. Jin crosses a tenth of the distance between you, lips flutter as they try to make a decision - do they want to part and give way to the voice of question? The voice of reason? The voice that will break this hush, burst this bubble where he has the one chance to give in to his longing?

You bring your lips closer, and cause immense disquiet in his dome, the way of his heart gathering speed against rationale. Your eyes dance between matching his gaze and finding his lips, every fraction of an inch you cross sending tremors through you. You can feel the shockwaves traverse through your body, making a pitstop at your lips, tingling them awake. They move downwards, passing your heart, beating it wildly against its cage, and then to the pit of your stomach to tighten in anticipation; finally reaching the tip of your toes, where you stand right now, a nanoscopic distance between you. Each one of you is afraid to cross the bridge, unaware of the other’s desires.

Finally, Jin acqueises and meets you on your side.

Atomic explosions ring through your head, clearing out every single thought that is not about Jin’s lips on yours. The ropes that held your heart from beating to the tune of your want, they’ve loosened their knots to give you the leeway to love freely. As your lips exchange positions, his teeth lightly drag across your plush petal, and it brings back the most important part of that night that you couldn’t recollect - the one where his lips sang wordless songs of adoration against yours. Blind as a bat, you were.

You dig your fingers into his hair, not minding your residual arousal coating his locks, and you feel his hands doing the same to you. With your eyes closed, you feel a rough edge to his cushiony soft lips, but Jin fixes that mistake - one stray strand of hair trapped in the middle of your indulgence - he pulls it away to give you all of the kiss. The hand tucked in your tresses pushes in, silently demanding more access, and you’re nothing but ready to give it.

His tongue sneaks in to play a game with yours - when you seek it, it goes into hiding, finding perfect pleasure in soft, sweet kisses, but when you stay, it comes back in, awakening your tongue to deepen again. Everything he is doing is too much and not enough in one go, and you whine into his mouth in desperation, seeking some well-earned relief after months of holding back.

Amidst the flurry of your lips, your back hits the vanity countertop, and Jin pushes away everything on top to make space for you, not caring what expensive item flies down the counter to accommodate your ass.

As if you’ve made up for the months of holding back, the softness of the kisses erodes, teeth coming into play more and more, reminiscent of the night that went by in a blur. He swallows every mewl you give in return, blissed out beyond repair, your neediness making his cock strain against the denim.

His hand snakes down, spreading his fingers to get a hold of your back to push you towards him, covering any gap that dared to intervene. Now unworried about the shoot, your hands have effectively ruined his perfectly placed locks and messed them up to resemble the craze he let you spin in.

Before he can glide his tongue back in, you break the kiss, lest you lose yourself in it to the point where you forget to breathe. With attached foreheads, you take deep drags of air, letting the oxygen flow to your brain before you make some ill-advised, unclarified decisions.

“I- I was jus-”

“Shhh. Wait,” he breathes out, wanting to take a second and fully savor the moment. You nod in return, making his head move along with yours.

After sufficient air fills his lungs, Jin starts. “Y/N, we should stop.”

Last time this had happened, you had tried to force your way through his barrier, without giving his feelings a second of consideration. So this time, you don’t repeat your mistakes. “Tell me why.”

“Because, I don’t know what you’re looking for, but I’m way deeper in this than you think.”

“Jin, I-”

“Let me finish.” He stops you before you can explain how much you reflect his emotions, possibly more. He doesn’t seem to want to listen now. “Let me finish, or else I’ll chicken out, for the millionth time.”

You’re dumbfounded. Millionth time? When was the first? Acting majors, by God.

“I love you, Y/N.”

No, now you are dumbfounded. Your hands, holding his precious locks, drop down in shock, at sheer disbelief that all this time, he has been ready and waiting to return you the favor. Jin though, misinterprets it as a look of disdain.

“I-I know I do, and I’m sorry that I do. I know you don’t feel the same way. You can hate me all you want, but this is the truth.”

“And yes,” he continues, refusing to halt for even half a second, afraid that the courage he mustered to confess would dissipate the moment he does, “I’m attracted to you, and I don’t know what went down here --” flicking his wrist to mention your (his) outfit, “--but I’m looking, okay? And I’m hard as fuck. But that’s not all there is to it.”

“I need all of you.” He takes an audible gulp, trying to stymy his emotions from overpowering him. “I want to take you out, I want to hold you hand, I want to bring you to all the places I love. I want to introduce you to people, not as my best friend, but so much more than that. It hurts me,” bringing his hand to his chest, he emphasizes the point of pain by clutching over his heart, “hurts to call you that because I’m lying through my fucking teeth.”

You break eye contact, because there are tears smarting your eyes at his heartfelt revelation. You can’t believe the idiot that you have been all this while. The man of your dreams stands in front of you, baring his soul, and you can’t even do him the decency of telling him what you felt yourself before jumping his bones.

And you love him, too. Maybe you haven’t said so, even to yourself, but you’ve known all this while.

You love him.

“If you are just looking for a fuck, or want any sort of a ‘benefits’ situation, we should stop. I can’t lie to myself anymore.”

“Jin, my God,” you half-sigh, half-laugh, feeling a burden lift off of you after months of pining.

“You don’t have to pacify me, it’s okay, I’ll be fine.” Even in this moment, he is looking out for you. His lips are curved upward to show you that he’s okay, but his pupils are shaky and restless, not in sync with his smile. You hope your next words can fix that for him.

“Pacify you? Hate you?” You shoot him an incredulous look, one you will explain to him very soon. “You are a much better person than I am, Jinnie. For months now, I’ve loved you, but even at this point, I didn’t stop to tell you.” The guilt of letting your hormones cloud your judgement for the second time lays heavily on your conscience. “I’m sorry for not making this clear earlier, but let me now. I love you, Kim Seokjin. I have for way too long. I want you, I need you. You have me, in every possible way.”

It feels unparalleled to get that off your chest. The leaden weight of your emotions immediately disappears - or the fact that it's shared, makes it much, much lighter. But then you look at Jin, and he still seems to have not put two and two together. You patiently wait for him to process all the information.

When he finally recoups, he yells, “What?!”

You let out a loud guffaw, the first one with no inhibitions in the longest time. “What?”

“Why didn’t you say anything that day at the cafe?!”

“You said you’d never date me, asshole!” You punch his chest softly, before slipping your hands behind him and pulling him closer. “I might not look like it, but I have some dignity.”

“I said that?” Jin brings one hand to pinch his nose in annoyance. “What an idiot. I think I was just inverting everything to make sure I don’t accidentally slip up.”

You lift your head to meet his eyes again, letting him see the tears you were hiding. You find a couple in his eyes, too. But the smile on your face is genuine, and that is all that matters. “I was blind too, so don’t beat yourself up about it.”

Flitting your eyes down to find the contour of his cock against his jeans, you ask him innocently, “How about we make up for lost time?”

“Fuck, yes, please.” And with that, your lips are engulfed again.

When you have all your guards down, the kiss tastes sweeter than before. Mere moments ago, while thoroughly enjoying the kiss, a sense of reticence had clouded your pleasure, holding you back from luxuriating in the headiness. A series of what-ifs had plagued your subconscious without your realization, but with all that cleared, you wholly submit to the kiss, emptying your mind until nothing but his name remains.

“Fuck, Y/N,” Jin gasps out, when you bite into his pillowy lower lip, “I thought you looked the prettiest in the dress earlier but,” after pulling away, he drinks your current attire in, “you look the most beautiful in this.”

You snicker. “Even more than World Wide Handsome?”

His eyes bore into yours, no hint of the joking lilt he always carries in them.

“So much more.”

Your hands find their place amidst his shaggy hair again, and you lodge his face into your neck - a command Jin acquiesces to with great pleasure. After a long, wet lick to your collarbone, he lays feather-soft kisses on the trail he left, starting from your shoulder and working inward, until he brushes against the back of your ear. You grasp at his sweater, because his lips feel so good. Your breaths are short, sucking in every time he allows your skin the luxury of a soft peck. Once he lays a kiss on your forehead, he brings his gaze down to one of the main reasons that causes his cock to stir.

“Fuck, look at your nipples under my shirt.”

Gazing down, you can see the two pointed peaks that caught Jin’s eyes.

“That tends to happen when I’m thinking of you.”

He twists a nipple over the shirt, hardening it further, and you throw your head back in the satisfying pain. “Yeah, I remember.”

You are unraveling every second, the ache swishing amongst the bliss his fingers are bringing in you. He’s switched over to drawing circles around your nipple, until he snaps and tugs your shirt up, finally revealing the palmfulls of flesh awaiting his hands.

“Ah that night, I didn’t get to do this. Take this off.” But then, he makes you put on his robe again. You throw him a questioning look, to which he responds with a sheepish smile, “Just so, you know… you don’t feel cold… or something.”

“Just say you like me in your clothes and move on.”

“I love you in my clothes,” he admits in a heartbeat, his expression that of anguish, “can we move on?”

“God, gladly.”

Unexpectedly, he bites the side of your boob - not hard at all, but feeling his teeth against your skin sends your head reeling backward. Your involuntary response is to wrap your legs around his waist, grinding your core against him. His teeth continue to nip you lightly across the expanse of your breasts, the trail of saliva he leaves cooling parts of your flushed body. Finally, finally, he latches onto your left nipple and gives it a long, pleasurable suck.

“Ahh, Jin - you’re too - God damn it - you’re too good at this.”

Without stopping the onslaught he is unleashing on your breasts, his fingers begin to move - but soon, they stop, hesitation rippling off of their tips. His pace falters, and his mind is fighting on the next course of action.

“Can I-”

“Finish what you started that night?” you complete for him, already prepared with your answer. “Yes, please.”

All forms of uncertainty shoot out of his touch, and he confidently trudges forward. Playing with the band of your panties, he gives you a well-intended chuckle, murmuring, “As far as I remember, I was so good you passed out.”

“Boy,” You groan, intended in jest, but his teeth slide against your jaw and it mostly comes out more wanton than jovial, “let me see you have tequila for dinner and remember much the next day.”

“Fair fair,” he gives in, shifting to buss the valley of your cleavage, feeling your heart thud against your ribs holding it in place. “Well today,” he starts without moving his face, his nimble fingers moving past the barrier of your underwear, pressing two fingertips directly on your clit, and hissing like it's him at the receiving end, “I’ll give you enough to remember.”

You pull his sweater off and chuck it away, not wanting to be reminded of any blockades that kept you apart, and your hands roam the expanse of his back remembering the touch of his skin from the night at the bar. His body isn’t new to you, but the circumstances make it feel different.

Finally, his fingers find their way inside you.

Yes, this. This was what was missing from your drunken tryst. With your heads in place, your ardor intensifies, and you move his lips back to yours needing to release your animalistic desire into his mouth. Pleasure surges through both of you as you threaten to swallow him whole.

You can feel him being more present, and considering the merciless finger-fucking you had earned that night, this is taking it to a whole other degree.

The night at the bar, his fingers did their best to ravish you, but now, Jin is paying attention, close attention to the way you respond. Every muscle movement is recorded in him as you struggle to accommodate three of his lengthy digits. Leaning close, he gives your peaked nipple the lightest feather lick - the suddenness sends shockwaves through you as he continues to tweeze the other, talented pianist hands performing his musical piece on both ends of you.

His fingers pump into you with determination, finding new depths to explore that he missed out on, and with a curl of his pointer, you blank out, screaming in the orgasm that is washing over you. Every skincell of your body feels the quiver of lust spreading, your cunt squeezing for an eternity, milking the orgasm out to the extent that you can.

When you look down, your metaphorical orgasmic flood manifestes as a deluge of your arousal leaking on the table. And when you look back up, you can see the salacious ideas making their rounds in Jin’s head as he looks at the inundation you released.

Hurried hands still convulsing from the intensity of your orgasm, you undo his belt, followed by his jeans and finally - getting the pleasure you were heartlessly denied of - his cock is out, in all its glory, twitching as the cool air hits its naked skin. Jin’s plans don’t go hand in hand with yours though.

“Are we just - holy fucking shit - just, umm, leave that to waste?” he lustfully looks down to your leaking core, and someway, through your hold on his dick, he tries to steer you into his plans.

“I don’t know about that,” you cheekily reply. You have the right idea to satisfy both of you, and get down to the task.

With the flat of your palm, you swipe across the droplets of cum you released, gathering them to transfer them onto his thick length. Jin thrusts into your hand, the wetness jolting him into attention, and he places an arm on your shoulder to steady himself.

“You’re going to taste yourself?” he asks as you continue your vacillating motion, twisting at the base of his head with the wetness you graciously provided yourself. You give him a nonchalant look, something he is trying to do to you as well.

“Who said I’m gonna suck you off?”

His look changes, and the one you get in return is cocky, arrogant, downright rude if you were honest. You expected him to play on with your banter, but one raised eyebrow and the lazy smirk he gives, to what he probably thinks is a joke - Zeus could land on earth and not be able to stop you from gobbling his meat.

Your mouth is filled with his dick even before your knees hit the ground. Jin staggers back, but your suction on his dick is funnily strong enough to pull him back before falling. You switch positions, having him balance himself against the counter, all while you refuse to leave his cock out. His giggle of endearment has you pouting, but it swells your heart and makes you want to give more, more of anything and everything. With your renewed vigor, you push yourself in until his pubes tickle your nose, and his tip tickles your throat.

“Your-”, “I-”, “uhh-”

Every new sentence Jin starts crumbles to your actions. You furrow your brows both in concentration on your blowing skills and trying to decode what he is trying to say.

Jin takes a large gulp, adamant on making this one a coherent sentence. “You know, I used to imagine this, and in my dreams I used to be very sexy and suave, talking my way throug-oof-” You run your tongue over the tip of his leaking dick, emphasizing the point he is coming to, “Now I can’t even complete sentences here.”

“You being you is super sexy in itself.” And you curve your tongue to match the arch of his cock, letting the incoming saliva pool on it before letting it run down his shaft, dripping down from his balls. Strings of his precum connect to your lips, and you swipe your tongue through them, relishing the salty goodness before going back in for more.

“Y/N, shit, did you just moan?”

How couldn’t you? The fact that he is horny for you, so much so that rivulets of precum don’t stop drizzling down your throat, has you preening. You hum your assent in response, not willing to let go even for a moment, but Jin pulls you off before you can get a chokehold on the base of his cock again.

“Never had a woman moan while sucking me off. It’s sexy as fuck,” Jin breathes into your lips as he dives in for a kiss.

Your chest is heaving, catching the breaths you lost when you were down. “Then why’d you stop me?”

“Are you kidding me? I was about to lose it right there.”

“Jinnie, come on,” you break the fragmentary kiss you were sharing, looking into his glassy eyes, “let me feel you come on my tongue.” To emphasize your conviction, you lick his lips, persuading him of the sinful deeds your tongue is capable of doing if he’d just let you.

“Oh man, stop. What’s worse than busting a nut in your mouth? Busting it while you’re kissing me. Making me feel like a teenager.” You erupt into a loud laugh, soon followed by Jin as well. It is so him to joke about this.

“And babe,” all hints of embarrassment vanishing from his tone, “I’m only going to come inside you.”

“Fuck, fuck, yes. You got a condom on you?”

“Yeah, let me grab my wallet.” The instant he moves away, you feel naked, shivering from the comfort stolen away from you. But then you hear Jin grumble, “I hope I don’t have the bacon-flavored one.” And the absurdity of it all puts you at ease again.

“Ew, stop, even you can’t make that sexy. My lady boner is dying.”

He envelops you again, and you can feel the laughter echoing in his lungs before making it out to your ears. He brings your attention to the familiar rustle of foil wrapper. “Thankfully, we got chocolate.”

“Mmmh, gotta love chocolate.”

You take the condom out of his hands, and roll it onto his stiff length, flattered that he’s holding his erection for so long.

“Okay, stick it in me!” And you smack your ass in readiness, and a very flabbergasted Jin breaks out chortling.

“Y/N, stop being my best friend for like, five minutes!” His brows are furrowed in pretense exasperation, but you can see his lips holding back a genuine smile through the grimace, just happy that your dynamics haven’t changed the slightest, even though everything else has shifted.

“Okay okay,” you try and suppress your own laughter, before continuing, “how do you want me, baby?”

“Bend over on the vanity. And keep your eyes on the mirror.” And as you move into position, his palms grab your ass and squeeze it hard, feeling your glutes push back against his grip, and he pushes you forward till you're on the tips of your toes. You watch him through the mirror, watch him admire the way your ass curves over the table edge, how your toes struggle to keep you up, and how the dimples of your back are deepened by the arch, peeking under the bunched up robe tails, just waiting for him.

“Jin.” Your hushed whisper puts him in action.

Pushing the head in is anguish and relief at the same time. His bulbous head stretches your entrance; even with your preparation, you feel it sting. The searing gets better and better with every inch slipping in, and when he finally lodges inside, you let out a heavy breath, still panting and keeping yourself from screaming bloody murder in pleasure. Jin bends forward to paint the back of your neck, sucking the flesh till the circular bruise comes to surface.

“Can you- can you-fuck, no, wait-” Your brain is at war with itself, battling between adjusting to his girth and having him pump you into adjustment.

You can feel Jin’s snicker from behind you, and he finally makes the decision for you. “I’ll wait, I have things to do here,” he says before playing around the patch of skin, spreading from the base of your hair to the expanse of your back, his teasing licks relaxing your walls and accommodating his girth. The pain is almost gone, expect for the lingering ache that only helps you.

“You can move now, babe.”

“Okay, okay.” Your words snap him out of the painter’s dream he was in, and he twitches inside you. Something about the ease at which you both have adopted nicknames for each other softens his heart and hardens his cock.

Pulling out till only the head rests inside, Jin himself struggles against the third degree grip your pussy has on him. As he is thrusting inside again, your walls tense up, making it harder and harder for him to hold back.

“Y/N, sweetie, relax. I got you.”

“Jin, I’m-” You have tears running down your eyes, the pleasure and unsurmountable happiness rolling out in fat hot drops. “Fuck me harder. I won’t last.”

“Shit. Okay, hold on then.”

To what? Is what you’re going to ask before Jin unleashes his carnality onto you. Your breasts, dripping in sweat and saliva, are plastered to the countertop, which in itself is jiggling to the beat of Jin’s thrusts. His dick is curving inside to hit you repeatedly, and you have to gather the satin fabric to wipe your eyes to keep your gaze fixed on him.

He looks majestic. Forehead embellished with beads of sweat, his hair coiffed up, lips sanguine red after your vicious kisses - you swipe your tongue along your own lips to find them battered in response. His honey chest is heaving with every push, and a particular one hits you just right.

You let out a guttural groan, and Jin takes note of it immediately.

“Up,” he commands, and loops an arm under your belly to you pull you up and closer and now every thrust hits deeper into that spot he has found in you, your back connected to his chest as the two of you move in tandem; this is the most together you’ve ever felt with anyone. This moment is to be etched in your memories forever.

You scream into your fist to muffle the sounds, the edge of the table digging into your hip bone as you feel yourself getting closer to the brink. One swipe to the clit is all you have left to bring you to your release.

And from some telepathic force, or from the clutch your pussy has on him, Jin beats you to it. His fingers come down and carefully find your swollen nub, pinching it between his fingers. If he thought you’d shown him your hardest clench, he was wrong, because right now your dam has broken, and the iron-clad grip you give his cock sends him reeling, too.

You are gushing on his dick, the rubber dripping with your wetness. Jin too releases into the condom in stuttered gasps, his thrusts becoming shorter and shallower as he comes down from his high.

Petal-like kisses fall on your back as the two of you regain your breaths. The mirror that served you two well is covered in a fog of hot breath and perspiration, blearing your vision of yourself, but somehow, it sparkles with Jin’s reflection. His nobility-esque visuals use the haze as a valance for his appearance, framing them to make him look like you’re among the clouds. And in some way, you actually are.

“Ah, let me go.” You jiggle your shoulders back to make the man above you move. “Fuck, can you check if my spine is in place? I think you dislodged it.”

“Shut up and come hug me, I’ll squeeze it back in place.”

Now this is something you could get used to.

As he ties and throws away the used condom, you flip over to face him and fall back into his embrace, broad shoulders promising to protect you, making you feel safe in his care. Jin on the other hand is simply ecstatic to feel you on him, feeling your thumping heart beat for him, after months of pining and pondering whether anything would become of the seed of your tumultuous friendship. Now, it has blossomed to a garden of prospect and promise, every petal of every flower here reading a new opportunity to tell you how much he adores you, cherishes you, treasures you. How much he loves you. An opportunity he doesn’t wait to use.

“I love you.”

The pink tinge of your cheeks either comes from the sex, or from his comment, but either way, he is glad its from him.

“I love you too, Jin. So, so very much.”

If your heart could leap out of your chest, it would do so, to find its way to his and fuse into one. But for now, your entwined bodies give you all you want.

You hear Jin stifle a laugh, and pull back in question. He points to something odd on the countertop.

“What is that?”

The cream white surface of the table, that was maligned by your ignoble deeds, now sports two glistening, wheatish semi circles that look very similar to the sizes of one person who was splayed on top of it just moments ago.

“Is that…” Jin is trying to contort his lips and halt the looming snicker, and he brings his eyes down to your chest (trying not to get hard again), “Did you have makeup on your chest?”

“Shut up.” All you can do is fall closer into his arms, hopefully masking the tint of embarrassment highlighting the apples of your cheeks. “I wanted to make them look extra good for you.”

He’s given up on holding back, the full-bellied laugh that resonated from him echoing across the room. But it dwindles down fast, coming to small chuckles of tenderness, and he slips his digits beneath your chin to have you meet his gaze.

“They always look good,” he whispers, his admittance setting your chest aflame, “trust me, I’d know.”

Taglist 💛: @little7bitchh, @afangirllikeme-blog, @h34rt1lly, @marpotterhead

Thank you so much for making it to the end! I hope you enjoyed the fic, my ask box is always open for your lovely opinions. To read more of my work, find my main masterlist here. :)

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latte-fairytaekwoon · 4 years ago

Text

𝑫𝒂𝒓𝒌 𝑲𝒊𝒔𝒔 𝑷𝒕.2 (𝑲𝒊𝒎 𝑯𝒐𝒏𝒈𝒋𝒐𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑲𝒂𝒏𝒈 𝒀𝒆𝒐𝒔𝒂𝒏𝒈) 𝑹𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒅

Part One

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐄𝐦𝐨/𝐆𝐨𝐭𝐡! 𝐊𝐢𝐦 𝐇𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐣𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐠 (𝐀𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐳)× 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝐅𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞) × 𝐒𝐤𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐛𝐨𝐢! 𝐊𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐘𝐞𝐨𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐠 (𝐀𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐳)

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐒𝐦𝐮𝐭, 𝐅𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟, 𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭, 𝐂𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐞 𝐀𝐔

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐇𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐣𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐘/𝐍'𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐨 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟖.𝟓+𝐊

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐞/𝐧𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐥𝐞/𝐝*𝐜𝐤 𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬, 𝐬𝐞𝐱 𝐭𝐚𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐯𝐨𝐲𝐞𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐦, 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐛𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐝𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐞𝐱𝐡𝐢𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐦, 𝐛𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐠𝐞, 𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐬𝐞𝐱 (𝐟𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠), 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞, 𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 × 𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐬𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲, 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲, 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐮𝐧𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐝𝐨𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 (𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧), 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐃𝐨𝐦! 𝐇𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐣𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐠, 𝐒𝐨𝐟𝐭 𝐃𝐨𝐦!/𝐒𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐘𝐞𝐨𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐠, 𝐒𝐮𝐛! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

��𝐚𝐠 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭: @seacottons @little-precious-baby @speronyx @pirate-hongjoong @multidreams-and-desires @cloudyyeonnie

━━━━━ • ஜ • ❈ • ஜ • ━━━━━

Scrunching her eyes from the sliver of light protruding from the curtain that was left slightly open, Y/N let out a tired groan before pulling some of the navy blue blanket over her face. Feeling his lover shift in her sleep, Hongjoong slung his inked arm and placed it around her waist. Bringing his face forward, he placed a chaste kiss on her exposed shoulder.

"Morning beautiful." He greeted her with his usual manner of complimenting her.

"No........no morning..." She uttered, her voice sounding a little raspy and hoarse.

The dark ash grey male chuckled softly at her unwillingness to get up yet even though it was well past 11 a.m. His fingers traced around the dip of her hip as he hummed out a soft tune.

"Sweetheart, as much as I'd love to stay in bed and hold you for the rest of my life, you have class today and I'm needed at the shop later on." He reminded her.

Although she realized he was right, she still refused to budge and just stayed immobile. Letting out a sigh, he sat up and began to carefully turn her over to him, to which she let out a muffled whine. When she was fully turned on her back, her eyes fluttered open, her vision being blessed by the beauty of her dark and eccentric boyfriend who was donning his signature smirk as his eyes peered down at her, always seeming to stare right into her soul.

"Well? Are you ready to get up or am I going to have to get you ready myself?" He inquired, one eyebrow slightly lifted.

The warmth and comfort of the bed made her hesitant to want to leave. Reaching out, Y/N's hand slowly began tracing the outline of Hongjoong's collarbone.

"Why can't we just stay here?.....just for today? Stay and cuddle together..."

Trailing her hand down, her fingers grazed slightly over one of the piercings on his chest.

"Or .....we could do a few other things."

He let out a soft moan when she rolled his nipple between her thumb and index finger, eyes looking up at him suggestively while she bit down on her lower lip. Her other hand pushed the blanket, which was covering her, a little lower to further entice him. He could not look away at the sight of her wearing one of his many oversized band tees, his mind knowing fully well she wasn't wearing anything else underneath it. The end of it had risen up slightly that if she shifted around more, her entire bottom half would be exposed to him. When her hand threatened to go lower, he quickly caught it with his own.

"Naughty naughty kitten, trying to seduce me into fucking her into the sheets.."

Bending over, he captured her lips in a lazy and semi-messy kiss, his wet muscle poking out to lick across her upper lip.

"As if I didn't do enough of that last night."

Letting out a giggle, she let him wrap her legs around his waist before picking her up and walking towards the adjoining bathroom so they could get washed up and ready for the upcoming events in their day.

Outside in the kitchen, a handsome boy with dark brown hair and a sculpture like face pushed up the glasses resting on the bridge of his nose. His eyes loomed over the formulas and equations that were plastered all over the page. More than once he looked over at the notebook beside him, comparing and analyzing similarities and differences. His pencil was often tapping against the counter, following along to the beat of the song that was blasting from his phone. Occasionally, he'd find himself humming, or even singing along softly like he was currently doing at the moment.

"Fell in love with a girl at the rock show. She said what? And I told her that I didn't know..."

He had been sitting on that spot well over 3 hours, the blueberry bagel he had heated up for breakfast only had a single bite and remained untouched on a porcelain plate in front of his study materials. He let out a whispered curse under his breath as he couldn't seem to focus, his hand reaching up to rub at the side of his neck in frustration. Letting out a puff of air, he leaned back on the chair and stared at the ceiling, thinking about many things.

Hearing the doorknob of his roommate's turn, he was not fazed at all at seeing the [insert hair color] female come out.

"Oh. Morning Yeosang." She waved at him as she made her way into the kitchen, already rummaging through the cabinets like she usually did when she stayed over.

"Morning? It's practically noon." He pointed to the clock hanging by the wall.

Y/N simply ignored him and simply poured herself a bowl of cereal. Sitting down in front of the poker faced male, she made sure not to disturb him as he concentrated on the papers in front of him. After Hongjoong and her became official, she was ultimately forced to be introduced and sometimes even cohabite to a point with him since she now spent more time at their dorm than at her own place. Not that she minded. Yeosang was a very intriguing character. He was extremely quiet at first, but soon opened up to her and became more chatty with her, even more with her than his own roommate and friend. During one of their many conversations she found out he was a natural science major, focusing specifically on chemistry, which resulted more often than not in horrible puns involving the periodic table. He had a weird yet cute obsession with chicken, often wore either beanies or snapbacks backwards and had very similar music tastes like Hongjoong, which was the main reason why they ended up becoming friends, their music. However, Yeosang wasn't as deep, dark nor tattooed like her boyfriend.

Yeosang was a skater and the biggest clue was the skateboard he left on the side of the front door, the bottom of it decked out with various stickers he placed there. God forbid if anyone that wasn't him touched his baby, all hell would break loose, as Hongjoong himself learned one time. The man himself came out of his own room after he finished placing the finishing touches on his makeup. Sliding an arm around his girlfriend, he took in the state of his friend.

"Still taking 6 hours on a chemical reaction Yeosang?" Hongjoong snorted.

"Still taking longer than your girlfriend to put on eyeliner Hongjoong?" Yeosang retaliated, lips curving into a satisfied smile.

Another thing she loved about Yeosang: he was a straight up savage who could roast people harder than an oven.

Grumbling softly, Hongjoong placed a tiny peck on Y/N's lips.

"I have to go now babygirl. Meet me at the shop after class and we'll go home together." He told her.

"Which one? Hers or ours?" Yeosang snickered.

Making his way around the counter, Hongjoong held out his hand and flicked Yeosang on the head, causing him to utter an 'ow' at his ministration.

"And please try to get some air Yeo. You've been cooped up in these 4 walls too long."

After giving him a suggestion, Hongjoong was out the door and out of sight towards his part time job.

"Dark lord has no room to talk, before you came along, he'd only go out for school, work and booze." Yeosang shook his head.

Y/N giggled and got up to make her way out as well.

"He has a point. Besides, you've been stressed out recently. Why not hop on Emmy and take her out for a little spin?"

Y/N found it odd at first that Yeosang actually named his skateboard, but she figured she shouldn't have been so surprised. Hongjoong did a similar thing with his black Mustang. Closing, his textbook, Yeosang turned off the music playing on his phone and grabbed the earbuds sitting next to them.

"You know what? You're right. It doesn't look like it'll rain either."

Picking up her own bag, she followed Yeosang out the door, each of them headed towards a different direction.

"Try not to run anyone over this time." She called out to him.

"I don't run into people, they purposefully get in my way."

After waving goodbye to her, he placed the earbuds in, music already blasting full volume as he skated down the hallway, not caring about if it was allowed or not.

━━━━━ • ஜ • ❈ • ஜ • ━━━━━

The little twinkle of the bell chimed, letting Hongjoong know that someone had just come in. Although it was well past closing time, he knew very well who it was that just strolled through those doors. He didn't even look up from his task of wiping down and sanitizing his workplace.

"Hey handsome."

Unwillingly, he smiled softly at his girlfriend's words.

"Hey gorgeous." Finally looking up, he winked at her and caused her cheeks to heat up with a light shade of pink.

Clearing her throat, she asked if he was almost done, to which he affirmed that he was indeed.

"Just let me pack up my things and then we'll go to your place and cuddle." He began putting the tattoo needles, ink and tubes into a black case, making sure it was all neatly arranged and locked tightly.

"My place? But I bought chicken. I thought we could give some to Yeosang." She held up the plastic bag that contained their purchased dinner.

Slumping an arm around her waist, Hongjoong poked his bottom lip out.

"Sometimes I think you're more nice to Yeosang than me."

She shook her head at him and his cute and subtle jealous antics.

"Kim Hongjoong, are you jealous of Yeosang?" She teased him.

Pulling her against him, he whined softly as they made their way out of the tattoo parlor. He sighed as he locked up and punched in the security code.

"I'm not jealous of him....."

Walking over to his car, he made sure to open the door first for her as he usually did every time they went out.

"I'm just making sure you're still interested in me."

He held her hand the entire ride back to her place, even against her protests and lecture about safe driving. When she pulled her hand away so he could place it on the steering wheel, it instead rested on top of her thigh, pinching it softly at times, which resulted in Y/N's own hand smacking it for going too hard at times. Hongjoong just laughed and continued his obnoxious teasing on her, loving to annoy her and get her frustrated with him. When they pulled up to her place, she didn't even allow him to open the door for her. Instead, she sauntered off inside, closing the door behind her and locking it before he could get in.

"Haha very funny babe, now please open the door."

A minute passed but still she didn't respond. Hongjoong began pressing on the doorbell repeatedly. When that still didn't work, he called her, but he was sent directly to her voice mail.

"Aish! Seriously this girl..."

Hongjoong began pounding on the door.

"Yah L/N Y/N! Open this door right now missy! You want me to get angry with you?!"

On the other side of the door, Y/N cupped a hand over her mouth, muffling her laughter at his reaction.

"If you don't open the door, I'll- I'll..........I'll serenade you so loudly your neighbors will complain."

Taking a deep breath, he was about to start singing, but Y/N instead opened the door.

"Dear God, I get punishing me, but what did my neighbors do to get tortured so mercilessly by your banshee cries?"

She finally let him in after that scene.

"I'll have you know I'm actually a pretty decent singer." He stated in a matter of factly.

"Oh I know Hongjoong." She assured him as she began serving him a plate of food.

"You do?" He was puzzled as he tried to recall a time where he sang in front of her.

Not able to suppress a smile, Y/N confessed:

"One night after you came home late and thought I was asleep, I heard you when you began singing Rebel Love Song while playing with my hair."

As she sat down the plate in front of him and looked at him, his already fair complexion seemed to grow more pale and he suddenly looked embarrassed. He awkwardly toyed with his food.

"So......you heard the entire thing...?" He opted for focusing on eating as much as he could before he completely lost his appetite.

Y/N tried to keep a straight face as she sipped on the juice from her cup, ultimately failing when she spat it back inside, almost choking on the citrus liquid. Her boyfriend now threw the unwanted chicken wing back in his plate.

"Well I guess I'm not eating tonight. Good bye. I'm going to go crawl under the bed and die of embarrassment."

She looked at Hongjoong's slumped back as he headed into her bedroom. Wanting to let him change and wash up, knowing he'd take a while removing all that makeup that for some reason never caused a breakout on his flawless skin, she began clearing out the table and washing the dishes. Making sure to wrap the leftovers so he could take to his friend, she made her way into her room where Hongjoong was already on the bed, scrolling through his phone with a cringed look on his face.

"What is it?" She asked him as she began changing into her pj's.

"My idiot roommate. Wasn't watching where he was going and ended up stumbling on a dent on the sidewalk."

Hongjoong held up his phone to let her see a picture of Yeosang's dislocated elbow. She winced back in pain as she saw it.

"Ewww! Is he ok? Does he want us to take him to the hospital?"

Hongjoong shook his head.

"Yeosang would never EVER go to the hospital because of a skating accident. Besides, he's had so many that he somehow knows how to fix them."

Pulling up another picture, he let her see a selca of Yeosang holding up a peace sign as the caption read: "Hehet. I popped it back into place."

Y/N actually thought that was funny. Yeosang was a very funny character even when he didn't try to be. Snuggling herself up to her boyfriend, she let him move her leg so it could be wrapped around him, his thumb playing with the hem of her pink shorts. His hand then trailed up, untying the drawstring before pulling them just a little bit down to expose her powerpuff girls underwear.

"Hey!" Y/N swatted his hand away when he began bursting out at her choice of 'lingerie.'

"I'm sorry! It's just so cute." He tried explaining to her.

She wasn't amused however and turned away from him, her back facing him.

"Awww come on baby. I meant it when I said it was cute. You know I didn't mean it to be mean."

Hongjoong wrapped his arm around her waist, his lips peppering kisses on her cheek and temple.

"Yeah but I bet you'd prefer it if instead it was black lace and the skin around it had ink or jewelry."

Although she meant to only mumble that under her breath, Hongjoong heard her plain and clear.

"Ok what kind of talk is that? Why are you saying such things Y/N?"

She was going to crawl under the blanket but Hongjoong gave her no time to as he rolled her onto her back so he could look at her, not about to let her go until she explained the meaning of her words.

"I mean.......Hongjoong you're the dark, mysterious emo guy every girl thirst for at campus." She began.

"Guilty as charged." He joked.

Y/N chuckled slightly at his cute joke, but then went back to her somber expression.

"But...?" He urged her to continue.

"And I'm the complete opposite of you. You're black, I'm pink. You're leather, I'm fleece......you got your fucking dick pierced while I the only thing I have pierced are my ears."

"Ok, I see your points, but I'm still lost as to where you're trying to get with all this?" He tilted his head.

"My point is this. Wouldn't you rather be with someone who matches you better? Colorful colors on her hair? Piercings cascading down her earlobes and tattoos in places only you'll be able to see?" Her eyes looked away from him, afraid to see something she wouldn't like.

Hongjoong finally understood her insecurity. He wasn't going to lie, more than once he often felt the same way towards her. Why would a beautiful, dedicated, classy, pure and sophisticated woman settle for someone like him? But he never imagined that she'd be thinking the exact same thing. His fingers brushed away the strands of hair that were covering part of her face.

"Y/N....... if I wanted someone like that, I could have hooked up with them a long time ago. But I didn't want them. I wanted you then and I only want you now and I'll still want you later on in life."

She melted at his reassuring words, eyes and lips forming into a puppy face that always made him weak.

"You mean it?"

Bending down, he placed a loving and gentle kiss on her.

"I mean it. So don't worry about getting your body pierced or tattooed." He grinned at her.

Y/N bit down on her lip as she was about to tell him something.

"Well actually........I might need your input on something..."

He motioned for her to speak up.

"I actually wanted to get a tattoo and I was wondering......if you could do it..."

His mouth dropped at her words, brain trying to process if he just heard her right.

"Are you serious or...?"

She nodded.

"I'm serious. I want to get a tattoo and I want you to do it."

Looking at his still dumbfounded expression, it was now her turn to make fun of him.

"I mean, if you don't want to, that's ok. I'll just ask San to do it. It could probably be a better idea and I could surprise you instead."

"I mean, where do you even want to get the tattoo?"

Y/N smirked as she lifted her shirt up and exposed her breasts. She trailed a line right below them and signaled exactly where she wanted to get it. Hongjoong's face flushed as he began to imagine his already sexy girlfriend with an under breast tattoo decorating her chest, causing him to feel needy in seconds.

"Fuck baby.....are you trying to kill me?" He gulped.

"So is that a yes? Can you ask San to do it and I'll show you the finished result?"

Hongjoong chuckled as he grabbed her wrists and pinned them above her head.

"Do you really think I'm going to let anyone else see my girlfriend's chest when only I'm allowed to? Hell no. I'll gauge their eyes out first."

Y/N let out a half squeak half moan when Hongjoong bit down on her neck, tongue gliding down her exposed skin as his hands began ridding her of her clothes one by one.

"Let me remind you that you're mine and will always be mine."

━━━━━ • ஜ • ❈ • ஜ • ━━━━━

"Hongjoong!"

Throwing a rubber ball that struck straight into his target's head, Yeosang held up a fist in the air.

"Still got my aim." He declared, flexing his arm muscle.

Hongjoong however was not amused.

"You know...there's more than one way to dislocate an elbow than tripping on a sidewalk." He threatened him.

Letting out a small 'pfft', Yeosang took out his phone.

"Do you still have that video presentation we did for Professor Yoo's class."

"Ummm.......hold on, yeah I think so?" Hongjoong began scrolling through his phone.

"Ok well if you do, send it to me, I need to go over a few things for our upcoming midterms."

Hongjoong gave him a questioning gaze.

"Yeosang...midterms aren't until 3 months from now."

Yeosang raised an eyebrow.

"Did I fucking stutter?"

Not wanting to argue with the hot headed boy, Hongjoong just went back to searching through his files and let him know he'd send it once he found it. Yeosang meanwhile went back to his room, flopping down on his bed and resumed his previous activity of watching a horror movie on his phone. Tiny snorts would occasionally come out of his mouth when a jump scare would happen or sometimes even a twisted smile would form on his face when a particularly brutal or gory scene would be displayed. Even if he was scary and dark himself, Hongjoong often judged and questioned how Yeosang could possibly sit there watching people get violently slaughtered or severed without getting fazed or even batting an eyelash. Hongjoong actually suspected Yeosang actually enjoyed it and more than once contemplated whether Yeosang or not could be a potential serial killer.......

Then he remembered the boy also had Ponytail as his ringtone to quote unquote 'Wake up in a happy and cheerful mood.'

A notification popped up. Opening his messages, he saw it was from Hongjoong himself.

'Took me a while, but here you go. Knock yourself out I guess.'

In typical Yeosang fashion, he didn't even thanked him, he simply left him on read as he usually did. Pressing play, he flipped his phone sideways so he could make it go into full screen mode. He was disoriented when he heard music playing on the black screen, knowing fully well he didn't use such kinky music like that while editing the video, in fact he didn't use any music at all.

"What the fuck?"

He squinted his eyes when a scantily clad girl came into view. A male hand, belonging to whom he presumed to be recording the video, was seen running his thumb across her luscious and red tinted lips. The hand then reached down and picked up a black leash which was attached to the black choker on her neck. It had a red heart pendant on the middle, some engraving that he couldn't make it on the center of it.

"You know what to do kitten. Put that pretty mouth of yours to work." He heard the male tell the girl in front of him.

"The fuck kind of kinky porn did he decide to send me?"

Yeosang's cringed expression soon turned to shock when the male tugged on the leash roughly, pulling the girl forward and making her full face finally show on the camera.

"Oh...my..."

He gulped as he watched none other than Y/N began to pull down, whom he assumed was Hongjoong's briefs, down his thighs. When his erect cock hit his stomach, Yeosang's eyes nearly bulged out of his eyes.

"Holy shit Joong!"

His hand covered his agaped mouth as his eyes stared intently at his roommate's most intimate part, covered in piercings that he definitely did not know about. He knew about the nipple piercings, both of them having walked around shirtless at one point in front of each other. But seeing his Hyung's dick full of jewelry started making him get hard and watching Y/N wrap her lips around it, slurping sounds coming out her mouth as she began taking him in until he hit the back of her throat was not helping his case. His hand that was resting on his thigh unconsciously moved towards the growing tent forming under his sweatpants, lightly running across his length.

He heard Hongjoong emit a low hiss when she gave him a particular hard suck.

"Fuck! You're such a hungry and desperate cockslut aren't you? How about I treat you like the whore you are and fuck your face?"

Yeosang sucked in a breath as he watched Hongjoong yanked the leash on Y/N to keep her in place as his hips began to thrust forward. Yeosang couldn't help but palm himself harder, biting down his lower lip in an effort to keep his moans down. Watching Y/N release choked moans and drool pool down her chin from how hard Hongjoong was face fucking her was honestly one of the hottest things he'd ever seen. He nearly came in his pants with the lightest of touch when he witnessed Hongjoong pull out and spurt out his cum all over her face, covering from her forehead and dripping down her cheeks and chin, her tongue darting out to swallow some of the remnants left on her lips.

Yeosang gulped as he watched the screen go black, only shuffling noises being heard for a minute or two. He debated whether he should continue watching, already feeling guilty as hell that he just watched his Hyung's girlfriend suck him off and get a facial from him. But once the screen lit up again, he nearly fell off his bed as he stared at the scene:

Y/N had her arms tied to the bedpost, crimson red ropes secured tightly on her wrists, an intricate knot placed in the center of it. Her mouth was covered by a ball gag, lace bra pulled down to expose her breasts and her panties were probably discarded somewhere on the floor. He watched Y/N anxiously shiver when Hongjoong slid his cock across her slippery folds, no doubt enjoying the feeling of his Jacob's ladder piercing grazing against her lips and aching clit. He noticed how she tried to roll her hips to feel him more, but Hongjoong's hand slammed down on her stomach and pressed her down onto the bed.

"Don't get greedy now kitten. You'll take what I give you and you'll be grateful got it?"

Hearing his dominant and commanding voice full of authority, Yeosang slipped his hand inside his pants and gripped himself at the base of his cock, unashamed by his actions and wanting to hear more of Hongjoong's domineering tone.

"Y-yes..."

Not satisfied with her answer, Hongjoong slapped her across her face before gripping her chin. It sent a terrified shiver down Yeosang's back seeing Hongjoong treat Y/N with such utter disrespect and yet......she seemed to enjoy it?

"Yes what?" Hongjoong spat out.

Y/N whimpered as she answered him.

"Yes Master."

Yeosang groaned and stopped his hand movements, not wanting to come anytime soon. Through hooded eyes, he watched the rest of the pornographic video play, from when Hongjoong pushed himself inside Y/N to when he had her trembling underneath him as he poured himself inside of her, completely and effectively fucking her dumb as she stared off somewhere completely lost. With a soft grunt and hisses, Yeosang spilled himself all over his stomach, breathing heavily after having jerked himself off to his roommate's private sex tape. Putting his phone down, he reached for the box of tissues on his dresser and began cleaning himself up....

Completely unaware of the eyes that had been watching him intently.

━━━━━ • ஜ • ❈ • ஜ • ━━━━━

Ever since that day that Hongjoong had witnessed Yeosang touching himself to his and Y/N's secret tape, it began giving him a few ideas, ideas that weren't particularly holy at all. It most definitely was an accident and when he realized what he had sent to his roommate he was already off his bed and going over to apologize. He was expecting his somber friend to glare at him or even give him a disgusted look, but he was shocked to find him fully stroking his length, eyes glued to his phone while his mouth released some of the cutest and softest pants he'd ever heard. The sounds kept replaying in his head, especially late at night, often falling asleep to them as if they were some kind of sinful lullaby that he wanted turned into a full blown orchestral song.

And that's how his pretty girlfriend ended up dragged into his unholy desires, dressed to entice in a red two piece lingerie set that he knew would drive Yeosang insane.

"Hongjoong, do you think this is a good idea?" Her hands fidgeted with the bow attached to the middle of her panties.

When they heard the front door signal Yeosang's arrival, Hongjoong looked over at her with a smirk.

"Only one way to find out."

Adjusting the bow on her hair, Y/N watched her boyfriend walk out the room, no doubt going along with his plan of telling Yeosang he had a surprise for him. The boy was probably imagining something like stickers for his skateboard, fried chicken or some cool tshirt Hongjoong would customize for him, he really loved those gifts. Instead, he walked in to find his Hyung's girlfriend sitting on his bed, looking innocent and sexy at the same time. His eyes bulged out, cheeks reddened at the apples and he was whipping his head towards the evilly grinning male next to him, demanding an explanation.

"What? Don't you like my little surprise Sangie? I thought you'd be a little more....excited..."

Yeosang shivered lightly when Hongjoong ran his hand across his pants, gripping softly at the arousal that was forming in them.

"I don't- I don't understand....." Yeosang shyly looked to the ground, hands covering his growing arousal in embarrassment.

"Yeosang I know all about you masturbating to our sex tape."

Y/N kinda felt bad when Yeosang's expression looked guilty and ashamed of himself for even watching it in the first place. But she wasn't going to lie that it turned her on to find out the pure looking skaterboi could have his freaky side and she was more than curious to find out just how wild he could be. She heard, or more like, discerned Yeosang was apologizing to Hongjoong in a very hushed tone. Hongjoong assured him it was perfectly fine and that there was no need to be afraid, that it was after all a present to him. Seeing Yeosang conflict himself with whether this was right or not, Y/N knew it was time for her to speak up.

"Yeosangie...."

He immediately responded to her sultry call for him, ready to obey anything she said. When she patted the spot on the bed next to her, his feet quickly moved to sit next to her, although he kept his eyes on the floor, not daring to look her right in the eye and much less at her body. His cute behavior stirred something inside Y/N, a more dominant side of her wanting to come out. She began stroking his hair, which made him visible stiffen and inhale sharply.

"You can look at me Yeosang. It's ok."

Brushing the hair away from his forehead, her hand went down to his cheek, caressing it as she turned his face to look at her. He visible gulped when she asked him:

"Don't you think I look pretty?"

Unable to resist himself, he finally scanned her body, eyes tracing every curve and lingering a little too much on her exposed cleavage.

"You look so fucking pretty." He had to admit.

Hongjoong watched with a proud smirk as Yeosang let Y/N kiss him softly and slowly melt into a more heated kiss. Although he was possessive by nature, something about sharing his most prized possession with his extremely handsome best friend got him riled up and he couldn't wait until they both fucked her dumb. He was just waiting for Yeosang to flip the tables on her, cause he knew that although his girlfriend was taking the lead at the moment, practically devouring the boy inside her mouth and straddling his lap, he also knew Yeosang was more dominant by nature. He just liked to play off an innocent and naive façade only to suddenly flip the switch and have whoever he's with underneath him and obeying his orders. And that's exactly what happened.

As Y/N was getting lost into their heated and sloppy makeout session, she let out a startled grunt when Yeosang's hand gripped the back of her hair, tugging it harshly as his nose brushed across her exposed neck.

"Just cause you're on top right now, doesn't mean I'm letting you take charge. Got it little kitten?" He smirked when he heard her moan out at her favorite pet name.

"Yes Yeosangie-"

She had no time to finish her sentence because Yeosang gripped her chin tightly, effectively silencing her.

"For tonight, forget about Yeosangie. You will only address me as Sir."

With no warning, he flipped her onto the bed, pinning her arms up and diving straight for her neck, making sure to suck and bite hard enough to leave purple blotches splattered across her soft almost velvet like skin. When Y/N looked back at her boyfriend, he was already almost fully undressed, leaving only his boxers on, hand palming himself as he stared at them with lustful eyes. Cupping her breasts, Yeosang squeezed them into his hands before pulling them out of the confining garment. Having always been a boobs type of guy, he of course began to hungrily suck on them, his tongue flicking against her sensitive nipples. Y/N arched her back, her mind wondering where the fuck did the shy skater went to? Was the boy who could barely say 3 words on their first meeting also the same man that was turning her into putty the lower he began kissing down her body?

When Yeosang got in between her thighs, he could not believe how drenched she already was.

"Fuck. We've barely done anything Hyung." Yeosang pressed a finger to her clothed heat.

Finally deciding it was time to join, Hongjoong moved Y/N so that her head was resting on the edge of the bed, prompting Yeosang to move as well.

"I know. She's such a dirty little slut. Gets turned on by even the smallest of things." He teased her as his hand lightly smacked her cheek.

"Don't call her that Hyung.....she's just a little princess. Can't help it if she's just a little spoiled." Yeosang cooed as he began pulling her soaked panties off.

Y/N gasped when Yeosang blew a little air onto her dripping core, eagerly anticipating him to do something. It was Hongjoong though that made her break her gaze from him when he slapped an all too familiar pierced member on her forehead.

"Hey, just cause Yeosang is willing to go soft on you and dote on you, doesn't mean you earned it from me."

Hongjoong tilted her head lower so it'd be easier for her to take him in.

"You're going to work that filthy mouth of yours and suck me dry you dirty kitten. I don't want you getting distracted by Yeosang eating you out or else I won't let you cum tonight." He warned her before shoving his dick inside her warm mouth in one go.

Yeosang only chuckled as he leaned in closer to her heat.

"I'll make sure to make it difficult for her."

Y/N moaned around Hongjoong's dick when she felt Yeosang's wet muscle side across her slick folds. Although he did not own a tongue in like her boyfriend did, he really was making it difficult for her to focus on sucking off Hongjoong. The way he swirled his tongue around her clit, or when he'd give it a particularly harsh suck that shot waves up at her. She could feel him smiling cockily too, he knew the power he held at that moment. Using his fingers to pry her lips open, he dwelved his tongue inside her dripping hole, causing her to briefly mumble out Yeosang's name while her mouth was still stuffed with Hongjoong's cock. She let out a choked yelp when the latter forced his cock deep inside her throat, the ampallang piercing touching her uvula, as his hand came down to strike her cheek.

"You're seriously calling out another man's name after I told you to focus on me you little bitch? Are you too dumb to even do a simple order?"

Gripping the sides of her jaw, he began to fuck her face, causing Y/N to choke around his length but eventually hollowing out her cheeks to welcome his intrusion. Although Yeosang looked up just to witness the sick and twisted scene, he did not deter in his task of eating Y/N out. He was determined to have her cum all over his face. By the way her hips began rolling onto his face and her thighs were closing around his head, he knew she was definitely close. Noticing her body movements as well, Hongjoong firmly looked at Yeosang.

"Don't you dare let her cum Yeosang."

Yeosang snickered amusedly, finding it funny how Hongjoong tried to order him around. Instead, the brat in him decided to completely ignore him, burying his face deeper in her, his mouth working hard to get her to reach that release she desperately wanted to achieve. When she began squirming under him, his hand held her hips down, tongue lapping up all the sweet juices she was pouring out. Yeosang was disappointed that her pleasured moans were currently being muffled by Hongjoong's cock, the latter tensing up when he felt the vibrations all around him.

"Fucking hell!"

Pulling out of her mouth with a loud popping sound, he finished himself off as he came all over her chin and neck, face red and eyes glaring down at Yeosang, who shot him a smug smile as he wiped the remainder of her juices off his chin and nose and licked his hand when he was done.

"You're such a fucking brat." Hongjoong growled at him.

"And what are you going to do? Spank me daddy?" He scoffed at the older male.

Setting Y/N upright, Hongjoong picked her up and set her down on the chair by the computer.

"You're not allowed to move, speak or touch yourself. You'll sit there like a good little bitch and watch what happens when you test me or disobey."

Y/N quickly nodded at Hongjoong's words, watching with fear and anticipation as turned his attention back to a still defiant Yeosang. After stripping off his clothes as Hongjoong told him to, Yeosang obligingly layed on his stomach, wiggling his ass when his Hyung came up behind him. Hongjoong had a suspiciously calm smile as his hand traced the curve of his Donsaeng's back before gently kneading at the flesh on his cheeks. When Y/N saw him reach under the bed for the black velvet bag he had hid just in case, she knew exactly what he was up to and wanted to warn Yeosang, but remembered the strict command she was given.

"Gave up already Hyung? I knew you're just all talk when you said you were a Dom-"

Yeosang groaned when Hongjoong took hold of his arms and swiftly tied them behind his back. Yeosang tested the ropes binding his hands and effectively discovered that they were very tight. He inhaled deeply when he felt something like leather stroke his ass cheeks. Hongjoong let out a soft chuckle as he brought the object close to Yeosang's face so he could take a look at what it was. The brown haired male paled slightly as he looked straight at the top of a black riding crop. Hongjoong used the tip to slightly turn Yeosang's head so he could see the sadistic smile across his face.

"I'm going to show you little brat how us Doms train you into submission."

After patting that stubborn head of his friend, Hongjoong held the riding crop over his head, momentarily keeping it there to keep a suspenseful atmosphere. Y/N looked over at Yeosang with a worried look, meeting her eyes briefly, he sent a wink her way, silently assuring her that he was completely fine with it.

Swish

"Ahh!"

Yeosang let out an almost pained howl when the first strike came down on his ass.

"One." Hongjoong began.

One stroke soon turned to 5, and then 10, Yeosang's milky white skin started as a bright pink but was now a deep red. He kept his face buried in the mattress underneath him which drowned out his screams and whimpers. All throughout his ordeal, Y/N rubbed her legs together, pressing her thighs against each other, quickly becoming aroused once more and feeling needy once more. Yeosang's whining was not helping her case either, if anything his behavior was making her want to disobey her boyfriend as well, her hand creeping dangerously close to her knee.

"Are you going to apologize for being a brat now or should I keep going? The longer you drag this on, the longer it'll take for both you and Y/N to cum. I mean look at her..."

Grabbing a hold of Yeosang's hair, Hongjoong lifted his face so he could look over at the squirming girl on his chair.

"She's practically aching for you to be inside her."

Although Yeosang wanted to continue his defiance, not only was he craving his own release, but seeing Y/N made him rethink his choice.

"Yeosang, I'll tell you what. Give up now....and I'll let you take her ass."

Y/N couldn't believe her ears. Hongjoong wasn't serious was he? Yeosang sucking in a breath answered that for her, and more so when he immediately did as he was asked.

"I'm sorry f-for being a brat Hyung. I p-promise it won't happen again."

Flipping him on his back, Hongjoong gripped Yeosang's red and painfully erect cock in his hand, making the younger boy hiss in pleasure and pain.

"Tell me what you want Yeosang." Hongjoong ushered him to speak up, his thumb running across the other's slit.

"Wanna make our girl feel good. Wanna be buried inside her and fuck her like a queen."

As he spoke those words, he looked at Y/N with hooded eyes, hips bucking up as Hongjoong began stroking him gently, soft moans and grunts coming out from Yeosang's mouth, the very same ones Hongjoong wanted to hear from the beginning.

"And you will baby boy, but can you both be patient for a little bit?"

Hongjoong turned when Y/N let out a frustrated whine, bottom lip poking out.

"I'll get to you soon kitten ok? But let me help Yeosang for a little bit. He hasn't gotten a chance to come even once and he's throbbing in my hand right now."

Having been frustrated for too long, Yeosang melted into Hongjoong's touch when he picked up the pace and began to stroke him harder. He tried biting his lip in an effort to hold back his noises but Hongjoong halted his movements.

"Open your mouth and let those filthy moans come out your throat or else I'll put a cock ring on you."

As if on cue, Yeosang's began releasing the most unholy series of whimpers and whines as Hongjoong pumped him into a dazy haze that would soon be broken and explode all over his Hyung's hand. He just needed an extra push and he'd come collapsing from his already high state. Hongjoong felt when Yeosang began twitching, a sign he was going to come.

"Hyung-Hyung!-"

Hongjoong immediately dropped to his knees and opened his mouth wide to catch some of the cum that spurted out of Yeosang, leaving Y/N speechless. She knew her boyfriend was rather kinky and had interesting tastes, but this just made her let out a big 'oof' at his actions. And what followed just made her practically drip. Taking advantage of Yeosang's sensitive state, Hongjoong licked up his softening dick and made sure to press his tongue piercing into his slit, making Yeosang push him off, unable to take anymore.

"Ok baby boy, guess you're not ready for overstimulation yet." Hongjoong ruffled his hair before cupping the red faced boy's cheeks and kissing him softly, drilling his tongue in his mouth, letting him not only taste himself but allowing him to play around with his tongue piercing that always made him curious.

They were only broken from their amorous trance when they heard a frustrated squeak coming from the poor girl sitting on the chair in front of them.

"I think we've neglected our princess for too long Hyung." Yeosang was the one who got up and went over to fetch Y/N, who eagerly accepted his embrace and let him carry her over to the bed.

Hongjoong was already getting out the lube to help with the process that was about to come.

"I don't know....I'm tempted to make her wait a little more."

Y/N shook her head furiously to which Yeosang giggled.

"Don't worry princess. I'll make sure you're more than satisfied."

Turning her so her back was to his chest, Yeosang took the lube from Hongjoong's hand and poured some onto his fingers. Hongjoong in turn tilted Y/N's chin, and made her look at him.

"You're lucky Yeosang is nice kitten. If it were up to me, I'd make you wait around and beg like the whiny bitch you are."

Y/N poked her bottom lip out, making puppy eyes at Hongjoong so he wouldn't follow through on it. Wanting to assure her, Yeosang pressed kisses on her shoulder.

"Don't listen to him princess."

Yeosang slipped two of his lubed fingers into her tight hole, reading her body signals and slowly prepping her. Sensing her apprehension, Yeosang looked over at Hongjoong.

"Should we maybe try something else?"

But Y/N didn't want to deter them.

"No! Please! Fuck both my holes."

Yeosang instantly got hard once again at her words. When Y/N pressed herself back onto his length, he got the hint that she wanted them to stop stalling. As Yeosang finished lubing her up, Hongjoong lined himself up at her entrance, not needing to prep her pussy hole as she was practically soaked to the core, making it easy for him to slide inside her. Even after all the times he had entered her in the past months, she could still not get over the feeling of his pierced dick stretching out her walls. Before she could fully get adjusted to him, Yeosang was already sliding into her other tight hole, causing a pained shiver to run down her spine. Hongjoong rapidly kissed her to distract her from the uncomfortable feeling. Yeosang as well slid his hands up to cup her breasts, pinching her nipples softly as he fully inserted his length inside her, fighting the urge to move until she adjusted to his size.

After a few minutes, she pulled away from Hongjoong's kiss and nodded at him.

"You good?" He asked one last time.

"I'm good." Turning her head back so she could look at Yeosang, she added: "Go ahead."

Giving each other an enthusiastic look, both men began moving inside of her. Y/N had never felt so full, each time one of them slipped out of her, the other was already slipping back in, never allowing her to get a moment's rest from the overwhelming feeling they were giving her.

"You're enjoying this aren't you kitten? I can feel you clenching all around me and I bet that other hole of yours is squeezing Yeosang as well."

With no warning, Hongjoong slipped his hand back and struck her ass twice, causing her to yelp.

"Aren't you, you whore?"

As soon as he finished his words, Yeosang stepped in to caress her slapped skin.

"It's ok princess, it's just means we're fucking you right like you're supposed to be."

Y/N loved the polar opposites both of them were giving her. Hongjoong's degradation being softened by Yeosang's praise and care was something she didn't know she needed until she felt a familiar coil build up in her lower stomach.

"She's close..... can you tell Yeosang? With the way she's struggling to breathe and her walls tightening, she's about to burst all over." Hongjoong noted.

Reaching over to fumble with her clit, Yeosang whispered in a raspy voice:

"Cum for us baby girl. Just let it out."

Feeling the coil snap inside, she cried out their names as they slowed down their movements, letting her come down from her high and become relaxed. She was completely unaware of the slick smiles and hints they exchanged between themselves. Taking advantage of her unfocused state, Hongjoong gripped her hips while Yeosang wrapped his hand around her neck, both jolting they began pounding into her at an even fiercer speed than before, loud squealching sounds echoing through the room as incoherent babbling came from Y/N's mouth, tears dripping down her cheeks from their overstimulation.

"Joong...Sang..-"

Hongjoong slapped her ass once again.

"Wrong name stupid, stupid kitten."

Any word she even thought of spitting out was choked out by Yeosang's grip tightened around her throat.

"It's Master and Sir to you little pet."

"S-sorry......m-master...s-sir-"

With tremendous effort, she managed to get out those 3 words in between her whimpered screams that were probably being heard by the neighbors, not to mention the creaking of the bed underneath them. Being overstimulated past her limit, it didn't take long for Y/N to become undone once more, this time even more violently than the previous one. If the boys hadn't been holding her up, she would have collapsed onto the bed. But their strong arms, both tha tattooed ones and the non-tattooed held her up as both boys chased their own release. Through gritted teeth, they let out choked moans, making sure to fill her up to the brim as they coated her walls with their sticky cum. Once they garnered enough strength and their headspace, they pulled out of her, a trail of slick cascading down her thighs. Y/N winced at the sudden void that action left in her, her eyes focused on the ceiling as her mind just stayed blank from all the events that just happened. Yeosang was the first one to get up.

"I'll go run a bath."

Understanding what he was doing, Hongjoong leaned down and brushed some of the hair sticking to his girlfriend's forehead off her face. Kissing the spot gently, his tone turned more soft and warm than what it had been minutes ago.

"It's ok, you did so well my love. We'll run you a nice bath and then tuck you into bed so you can rest ok?"

Her mind barely processed what he said, she simply nodded and allowed herself to be carried by Hongjoong into the bathroom. Yeosang was in the process of making sure the water temperature was perfect and had already added scented bubble bath mix in there to help her relax more.

"You certainly do go the extra mile." Hongjoong pointed out.

Yeosang shrugged.

"Just cause she's not mine doesn't mean I'm not going to take care of her after I practically helped you fuck her brains out."

Both Y/N and Yeosang thought they were too worn out and dumb to fully comprehend the next words Hongjoong spoke.

"As far as I'm concerned, she's also yours after tonight."

Y/N craned her neck to look at Yeosang's reaction, who sat there incredulous.

"I mean, if you don't want to I understand..."

Hongjoong looked over at his lover, knowing fully well she would not mind adding their savage yet charismatic accomplice into their relationship. After Y/N gave him a reassuring smile, Yeosang stood up and took her away from Hongjoong's embrace.

"Guess you're mine now too princess."

━━━━━ • ஜ • ❈ • ஜ • ━━━━━

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itsclydebitches · 5 years ago

Photo

Discredit Part Three! (Click on each pic for something resembling quality!)

Part One---contains translations, podfic, and related works---Part Two

Tagging, credit, and transcript all below the cut 💜

First off, people who specifically asked to see more of this nonsense may God in all Her glory bless you accordingly:

@internet-or-sleep, @just-some-girl-on-the-internet, @readytoocomply, @vocallsama, @fellowshipofthegay, @lucky-leafeon, @alph4centauri, @sumoranges, @diaphanedreams

Aziraphale’s profile pic is courtesy of good old Neil, found here. All others are from Creative Commons.

Sorry it took so long to produce more stupidity. YOU ALL ROCK 🎊🎊🎊 Here, have a messy transcript.

Abdou G.

Have you ever walked in on a conversation and, despite clearly missing the majority of it, feel like you could reconstruct it, word for word if necessary? That happened at Fell’s today. The ‘talk’ had obviously been going on for a while, but I can give you a perfect summary here: rude fuckboy thinks he gets to say who God is, Fell was having none of it.

Best response? Turn around, walk back to your apartment (pro-tip: this only works if you’re just a few blocks away), and change your shirt. I walked back in with my I MET GOD, SHE’S BLACK tee and had the pleasure of seeing Fell do a double-take.

“Yes, thank you, that’s what I’ve been trying to say!”

***

Doug E.

Scout’s honor: I once saw that Crowley dude unhinge his jaw and eat a large pizza in one goddamn bite.

Update: you heathens read about this gay abomination with his dislocated jaw and what you decide to question is whether I was acTUALLY A SCOUT?

***

Mary L.

I came in with my four-year-old last week fully intending to keep him within sight at all times. Yes, I bought one of those kiddie leashes and no, I don’t regret a thing. You try holding down two jobs as a single mom to the bonefide antichrist. I love my boy, but the devil got to him, telling him things like, “Yes, Freddie, permanent marker would look just great on Mum’s only work jacket!”

I said as much to the owner because this mom needs to vent sometimes.

I wish I could give this place a higher rating, but the ownership is frankly terrible. Inconsistent hours, no help when you’re trying to find a book, just basically all around bad customer service, BUT it still gets five stars because when I told the guy I was raising the antichrist?

“Oh yes. I did that myself not too long ago!”

We parents need to support one another. Otherwise the world is going to burn. So here’s a good review for you, Mr. Bookshop Guy. A part of me hopes you’re a better dad than you are a bookseller. The other part? The bigger part? It’s very aware that Ms. Pot here just met Mr. Kettle.

Now if you’ll excuse me, Freddie just got into the flour.

***

Alfred B.

I hereby nominate Mr. Fell as the British Steve Irwin. I’ve never seen anyone handle a red bellied black snake like that. I mean yeah, they’re a chill species overall, but there’s a difference between casually handling a snake and fucking chucking one onto the chair because it’s in your way. (Okay. Maybe Irwin was a little nicer.)

Renee K.

whos steve irwin?

Alfred B.

...How old are you?

Renee K.

Alfred B.

You existed on this planet for two years with him and you dare to ask me this? Go boil your head and then use google. Good god.

***

Mark F.

overheard the owner telling his boyfriend that last they met his brother tried to set him on fire? and succeeded?? actually now that I think about it, not sure which brother they were talking about---his brother or boyfriend’s brother--but WHOEVER has the brother needs to... i don’t even know. do something about that? ring the police or go to therapy or SOMETHING. i mean maybe they already have, i’m just an eavesdropping tourist, but the idea of someone setting that bow-tie cutie on fire—DID I MENTION THAT? PERSON ARSON. MURDER—makes my blood boil

***

Shiefa N.

People aren’t joking about overhearing weird conversations here. I walked in on two men (owner and husband? owner and escort?) debating Seven Minutes in Heaven. You know, that stupid kissing game the better looking kids got to play in middle school. It got pretty heated at one point (pun not intended), arguing about whether seven minutes of making out was divine or damning behavior. I hung out long enough to catch the segue into a lust vs. love debate and then had to skedaddle. Nice couple. I support their weird flirting habits.

***

Chang Z.

Is it legal to visit a store for things other then what it sells? I realize that makes me sound druggie or something but I swear I’m dealing with a much healthier addiction. (Ha. Maybe.) I cosplay (yeah, yeah, move along, trolls) and Mr. Fell has an absolute wealth of historical clothing. It’s astounding! I thought they were particularly detailed costumes at first, but no. I’m majoring in Textile and Apparel Studies. I know a naturally worn piece of fabric when I see it. Mr. Fell is always cracking jokes about how he wore this frock in the 19th century, this shirt in the 17th, oh don’t you just love my old vest? (He has... so many vests...) I indulge him because anyone who lets me borrow this stuff for free deserves all my attention and fake laughter.

Yeah. You read right. Artifacts borrowed for free. He’s even let me alter some of the stuff because I’m not exactly his size. Should this stuff be in a museum somewhere? Probably. Am I calling anyone to take my personal cosplay supply away? Noooope.

***

Leah M.

Helping to spread the word here because I’m not sure how much foot traffic this place actually gets.

I pass Fell’s every morning on my way to work and yesterday there was a new sign in the window. This might not seem very interesting to most people on here, but you’ve got to understand that Fell’s never changes. None of it. I’ve lived in Soho since I was a boy and this place has always had the same placard with his insane times listed, same stripped paint on the door he’s never gotten around to fixing, same spiderweb in the corner I absolutely swear. My dad used to pop in there when he was in college and I swear he’s taken me through the stacks, points out books that haven’t moved in 30+ years. It’s nuts and more than a little bit impressive.

So you can imagine my shock when I passed by and saw not one, but four new papers in the front window. They’re drawings and I recommend going and taking a look for yourself. I don’t think I can accurately describe the utter chaos of crayons and glitter that’s displayed there, let alone what it’s trying to depict. A dystopia? The end of the world? If so the apocalypse features a surprising number of dogs.

There’s a fifth paper off to the side, written in Fell’s messy penmanship. It just says, “My god-children drew these!” and if that’s not the cutest things you’ve ever heard get out of my face.

***

Gabriel A.

azirfell

alzaphral

azzzzzirafal

i’m a litttle drunk but azifjkaafha’s place is good he just needs a name easier to spell

***

Aziraphale

Dear Gabriel A,

My partner Crowley told me about this site and the many lovely well-wishes you all have left us here. I have come to express my thanks and to offer a bit of advice. You are hardly the first person to struggle with my name, dear girl! I recommend the following three step process:

A - simple, yes? + zira - a nickname I’ve adopted over the years, easy enough to recall + phale - this is admittedly more difficult as our ending, “phale,” is neither spelled in a way nor presumed to be pronounced like the “fell” sound we end up with. In truth my name is more along the lines of Azz-ear-raf-AE-el, but change is inevitable and you needn’t hear about that transformation, nor the etymology involved in getting “fell” out of “phale.” I say this not because I don’t wish to teach you, but because my partner has reminded me--in a rather rude tone I should add--that this site has a word limit. Suffice to say you should simply memorize the “phale” portion and you shall be, as the expression goes, in tip top shape!

Best regards,

Aziraphale

P.S. Nothing personal, dear boy, but I fear I’m not terribly fond of your name either. I would highly recommend changing it if you’re ever of a mind to do so. Cheerio!

#good omens #ineffable husbands #air conditioning #long post #good omens fic #(apologies for that)#(tried for text post and the quality was totally unreadable)#pgnbri #attempting to tag you here #since tumblr won't let me do it in the post :/

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sleekervae · 4 years ago

Text

The Neighbour [0.3]

Something was irrevocably different with Remington; Emerson picked it off right away. On an early Tuesday afternoon, with the air thick and humid and the sun beating down like a plague (no pun intended), Remington was fussing over himself more than usual. He had changed out of four or five different outfits, playing with his hair, and was it appropriate for him to wear makeup? Eva hadn't seen him with it on, yet. No, it was probably best to keep it casual for now. Then again, he had a fantastic highlight that worked absolute magic under the sun...

It was around eleven thirty when Remington finally came down, dressed down but still presentable in a simple pair of ripped skinny jeans and a t-shirt. Emerson and Shy were sat on the couch as they watched Netflix, Pepper situated between them. Remington stopped short when he saw the pair cuddled up on the couch, he smiled deviously.

"Eugh! You guys are so flippin' cute it's gross!" he gushed, putting on his diva voice.

Shy chuckled softly, "Hi Rem,"

Emerson's attention diverted to his older brother, intrigued to see him all ready to go out somewhere.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

"Coffee with Eva," Remington replied simply.

"The neighbour with the cat?" Shy said.

"Yeah," Remington nodded, "Emerson tell you she gave us a loaf of bread last week?"

"He did," she smiled, "Poor thing, I felt for her. She looked so flustered at the pool,"

"Well, moving is a bitch already. Throw in Covid 19 and you got a real thorn in the ass," Emerson said, then turning back to his brother, "You gonna' be social distancing?"

"We're going to drink our coffee and walk around in the park," Remington replied, "She works from home anyway,"

"So, who asked who for the coffee?" Emerson asked.

Remington shrugged, stopping at the hallway mirror to fix his hair again, "She brought up how she hasn't had a chance to get around the neighbourhood, so I offered, she accepted. She has our vinyl too,"

"Which one?" Emerson asked.

"Boom Boom Room,"

"Side A or B?"

"A,"

"I'd approve either way,"

Shy couldn't help but subconsciouly squeeze Emerson's arm, a glimmer of excitement bursting behind her eyes, "So, she's a fan, too?"

"Took her a minute to figure it out. Didn't even bring up Em or Seb, so clearly she pays more attention to me," the blonde smirked.

Emerson glowered at his brother, "Yeah, yeah, go for your cup of fuck-off-ee," he grumbled.

Across the street, with her room strewn in discarded clothes that just didn't make the cut, Eva finally felt confident standing in her denim skirt and black tee. On any other day she'd have paired the ensemble with her pleather jacket, but it was too damn hot out. Even with the window letting in a cool breeze, the air was uncomfortably humid. What did she expect when moving from the Emerald City to Los Angeles?

Eva made sure to close and latch the window shut before she left, not eager for Pluto to go off on another reign of terror. Stopping to grab a fresh face mask, her phone suddenly began to vibrate in her purse. She figured it might have been Remington sending her a text, but the screen flashed to the Blocked Caller ID. Eva rolled her eyes and denied the call.

Stepping out into the humidity, Eva waved her hand over her face as she stepped out of the complex courtyard, just at the same time Remington was locking the door to his house. As soon as she caught his eye, he was all smiles.

She was glad to see him; a little relieved, even. He looked cool, cool enough to appear on some grungy magazine cover. All he needed to complete the look was a cigarette and maybe a skateboard, too. The messy blonde hair, the glimmer in his eyes brought back the warmth she associated with his presence and as she came to meet him at his car, his spicy cologne danced up her nose and imprinted itself in her olfactory memory.

Remington had never been more wary of how his hands shook, his left hand he stuffed into his jean pocket and the right he gripped his car keys with a vice-esque grip. He found himself mesmerized briefly by the fit of her skirt, her black t-shirt tucked in smoothly but not too tight to over expose her figure, but just enough to give Remington an idea. Her short brown hair fell delicately over her face, one side pushed back behind her ears and exposing her stormy blue eyes to the sunshine. She was the embodiment of innocence and grunge wrapped into a perfect five-foot-six package.

"Glad you didn't stand me up," he grinned.

"Well, I kind of happen to live right over there," she drawled, pointing to her balcony, "It'd be kind of awkward and hard to hide if I tried,"

"You look really nice," he nodded after a brief moment.

"So do you," she agreed with confidence, "Where we off to?"

There was a forested park not far from where they lived. Despite the pandemic, the fields were filled with older kids playing games of soccer and basketball, there were vendors out trying to sell their ice cream, a couple girls were scattered across the grass and sunbathing. It almost all seemed so normal, if not for the fact that the kid's jungle gym had been fenced off so no child could climb upon it.

The pair walked side-by-side, him with his iced black coffee and her with a green tea frapp -- no whipping cream. The gravel path they walked was shaded by a canopy of lush green trees, providing some relief from the hammering heat. Remington kept his gaze locked on her, worried to miss a moment where she'd crack a smile or briefly run her tongue over her lips. Her fingers appeared so dainty yet he could spot the small calluses at the middle joint of her thumb, and some paper cuts on her middle and index fingers.

"So, how does a ghostwriter get hired?" Remington asked, "Do you just openly advertise 'hey! If you're a lazy author, come hire me'?"

"No," Eva shook her head with a giggle, "I used to write articles for the newsletter at my college, and then a friend of mine forwarded me an email about a client who was looking for a ghostwriter. I didn't know much about it but the money was pretty good. It was a grant application for requesting financial aid for survivors of residential schools,"

"Sounds depressing," Remington said.

"It was pretty heavy shit," Eva admitted, "But, I did get fifteen-hundred for a six page application. Well worth it, I'd say,"

Remington blew an impressed whistle, "So you make pretty good money off of this?"

"Let's just say my student debt has decreased significantly since I took up the profession," and she took a brief sip of her drink.

"You ever publish anything under your own name?" he asked, "Eva Kuznetsov is a cute pen name. Evelina sounds more mature, though..."

Eva shrugged, "I think about it sometimes... but it's just easier to write under someone else's name and let them have all the glory. Say, if they happen to do something stupid to forever tarnish their career, that won't come back to bite me in the ass,"

Remington smirked, "Like a particular fantasy author who's made some pretty heavy comments concerning the trans community?"

"Let's not even talk about that, my heart still breaks when I think about it," Eva sighed, "To answer your question, however, if I got confident enough I may try to publish something in the future,"

"What else do you like to write?"

Eva opened her mouth but closed it quickly, pressing together her petunia pink lips as she visibly swallowed whatever words were about to pass through them. When she looked up at Remington again, his brown eyes dark like soaked coffee grinds that sent her into a caffeinated headrush. What would he think if she actually told him...

"I write poems, some short stories," she somewhat lied.

Remington's smile grew wider, mischief glimmering over his face like light beams reflecting over windchimes in a saturated dusk, "You hesitated just now," he spoke curiously, "What else do you write?"

Eva glanced down at the ground, a nervous giggle bubbling out and knocking the air out of her lungs, "Okay listen, don't judge me, it's just a hobby of mine,"

"Oh God!" Remington gasped, "Do you write porn?"

Eva laughed again, her pale cheeks flushing in red, "Well... I do happen write some naughty shit... in my fanfictions,"

Remington stopped dead in his tracks, taken aback by her answer. He totally thought she would say something along the lines of erotic fiction on a platform like Literotica. For understandable reasons, he had some mixed emotions about fanfictions.

"What kind of fanfiction?" he asked, somewhat bordering on the third degree.

"... Um..." she glanced at him again, the smirk on his lips compelling more giggles to burst from hers. She pressed her hands together over her nose and mouth, and Remington laughed as well.

"Okay listen, I promise," he put his right hand over his chest, "I promise I will not judge you for whatever smut you write for whoever," he assured her.

"It's not... yeah, I guess it kind of is," Eva chuckled nervously, "I usually write for stuff like Criminal Minds, but more lately I've gotten into writing for Euphoria..." she trailed off, timid as she waited for his response.

"Alright, that's actually not bad," he nodded, "I'll be honest, you didn't strike me as somebody who write fanfics,"

Eva glanced timidly at her scuffed sneakers, kicking up pebbles and dust, "Are fanfic writers supposed to look a certain way?"

"I don't know, actually," he simpered.

"I don't tell a lot of people that I do it, mainly because their first impression is either 'what the fuck' or 'OMG we should collaborate' and I'm just like," she hung her head back, "Nooo!"

"You're more of a soloist then a team player, then?" he teased.

"Let's just say I tend to work better alone," she replied, shrugging her shoulders as though the comment should mean nothing. But Remington found it odd that Eva was out here all on her own, never brought up her friends or family. He didn't see many personal effects in her apartment, neither.

"Is that why you're out here by yourself?" he asked.

"What do you mean?" she replied.

"Well... don't take this the wrong way, but I haven't really seen you with anybody. You don't talk about your friends or your family,"

Eva shrugged again, "They're all back in Seattle. Besides, opportunity was drying up over there and I just wanted a fresh start," she said, "Besides, Pluto's my friend,"

"Well, that's a given," he replied, "Are your parents up in Seattle?"

"My dad is," she nodded, "I don't know what my mom's doing," Remington's silent was her cue to go on, "I um... we haven't really spoken, her and I,"

"You have a falling out?" he asked suddenly.

Eva glared down at the gravel again, "You can call it that. She's a pilot and she's always flying, and so you know, I never really got to see much of her growing up. And then, she suddenly shows up for my college graduation and expects us to be one big happy family, like she has it in her head that she can make up for all the birthdays and shit she's missed. And I just didn't know what to say to her. I don't know who she is, but she's my mom," she glanced up at Remington again, "And I don't know why I'm telling you all of this,"

Remington wasn't bothered by her unloading, it seemed as though Eva needed to get things off her chest more than she realized. Her smile was sardonic and her voice petty like a comedian on stage, putting on the brave 'I don't give a fuck anymore' face.

"I find sometimes it's easier to unload to new people then it is to your friends," he said, "What does your dad do?"

"Chem professor. Which is ironic because I seriously sucked at chemistry," she replied.

"Show me a kid who didn't struggle in chem, honestly," he said, "But do you get along with your dad?"

"For the most part," she chuckled, "He's still confused as to why I choose to write anonymously, but that's his problem. What do your parents do?"

Remington chewed on the inside of his cheek, "My mom's kind of like our manager. Does a lot of production and behind the scenes stuff. And I haven't seen my dad for nearly twenty years,"

Eva was silent for a moment, studying him. He spoke with a firm grin, yet still trying to shadow that flicker of sadness within his face.

"So we both have parental issues... that's nice to know," she put on a teasing grin, "Maybe that's why we make such good friends?"

Remington swallowed thickly, "So, you are indeed confirming we are friends?"

"I am," she smiled, "It'd be nice to have whatever few I can scrape up,"

"That fact that you also live across the street means that you're now stuck with me," Remington grinned with pride.

"True," Eva hummed appreciatively, taking another sip of her drink, "Somehow, I don't think I'll mind, though,"

When Remington drove her home she gave him a sweet and polite goodbye, a hug which made his confident exterior falter for a second long enough for her to witness it through the flush in his cheeks and his lack of response. His words tripped over the length of his tongue when he tried to flush out a proper goodbye and he felt his hands began to quiver again.

And when he went to open his door, he took one last glance. The small brunette turned at the same time and met his gaze, but he was too far away to hear her sharp inhale. And when he finally went inside he fall back against the door, staring into space with the biggest grin he'd had on since... well, he couldn't remember when he last felt so excited.

#remington leith #Remington Leith imagine #palaye royale #Palaye Royale imagine #Palaye Royale fic #sebastian danzig #emerson barrett #boy bands #band imagines #band imagine blog #original story #original female character

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warsmith-38 · 4 years ago

Text

How I would do RWBY Pt. 0

Disclaimer: It is easier to improve what already exist than it is to create something new. Boy howdy do I know that. That being said, I believe that RWBY has more than its fair share of flaws and this is how I would do it differently if I was behind the reigns. This is just a collection of my opinions and ideas which in the end will probably amount to nothing. I felt the need to do this because my brain just decided ‘nah motherfucker, you ain’t thinking of anything else from now on’ and this is the end result for nothing else would satisfy my rage.

I wouldn’t quite call this a complete re-haul, but more rather a rework with some of my own brand of polish. It’s not a compete rebuild from the ground up in a different world with different concepts and themes, but how I would go about a second go around with the series from the base that is already there. If a detail is missing from my musings then assume it is either unchanged or removed, depending on context.

If some of my complaints were addressed after I stopped watching, I honestly don’t much care. If it takes longer than 4 seasons to fix what I view as fundamental problems, then it’s far too little too late for me. I paid scant attention to the series post my stopping point and liked little to none of what I saw.

Please do not take this as a specific attack on anything other than the writing of the show itself. This is not directed or targeted against anyone, regardless of position or feelings on the topic at hand. If you ignore what I just said and decide to take this as an insult, then I say that you need to be more self-secure in your tastes and interests.

Things I would remove + reason why

Silver eyed warriors as a concept- it’s more or less the same concept as dojutsu from Naruto. It’s the fucking sharingan (rubygan). It’s not quite chosen one level, but crap like this is the blight of good protagonists. It’s fucking eugenics that makes you awesome not your own skills or training but on your bloodline. No need for personal development or life-changing hardship when you have a built in power that can be cultivated like a fucking bumper crop.

Maidens- Wasn’t intended originally and only made the overall story more cluttered with power creep and plot device. It’s a similar problem as above. No need for training or anything if people can just kill the person who has the power currently and take if from them. Which, at that point, why do you want that power if you’re already strong enough to kill and take it from the person who has it to begin with? It’s something someone just shouted out and they rolled with it because it sounded cool in the moment.

The Relics- McGuffin dragonballs that serve as plot device and little else. A story can be told without needing to monotonously race for Excalibur or the holy grail. Considering the Maidens, I doubt that the relics were intended in the first place and as such if you can’t tell a story without throwing something in after a few seasons because you realized that you didn’t have a plot, then you’re not that good at telling stories.

Oscar- The show didn’t need more main protagonists when what was already there wasn’t being given enough characterization to begin with. For that matter-

Quite a few characters- The cast is cluttered and convoluted enough as is with seemingly important characters getting the shaft in favor of yet another new character that would barely do anything. Time and effort seems to be put into one-off schmucks that would be better served making the story not need poochie the dog, let alone several. Character integration is not ‘create a character to do one thing and then pretend they don’t exist’. There’s already plenty of characters than can be used wherever.

The overt shipping bait, especially if it’s just going to be taken up or abandoned on a whim- I don’t mean relationship building, I mean the obvious baiting of a relationship that, in the end, might not even happen. All it does is dumb down characters and character arcs, draw out pointless scenes, and make the fans have conniptions one way or another. People are pissed off whenever things don’t go their way with shipping so the only winning move with these people is not to play their game. Looking at you Klance and Zutara. Either don’t do anything or have a fucking plan and stick to it and not make complete swerves when fans get uppity. If it genuinely matters to you, then pretend whatever ship happens at whatever point, I don’t care.

Changes to the world that I think would go over better-

Everyone has a level of aura with a naturally high level generally meaning that they might be able to unlock a semblance. A semblance is unlocked through some sort of specific event, typically a stressful one IE: Yang and Ruby are caught in the woods by grimm and Yang gets frustrated and scared at not being able to defend her sister before getting angry and her rage mode semblance unlocking. Not everyone who unlocks a semblance goes into combat schools but it is a requirement for acceptance into most of them. Having the potential to unlock a semblance seems entirely random but has a higher chance with genetics.

There are two types of semblances: 1 is hereditary like the Schnee glyphs, changing only slightly, if at all, through the generations. 2 is a random personal power like Yang having her rage mode as compared to Raven’s portals. Whichever you get tends to be random with the occasional exception depending on genetics and the specific semblance.

Every 1 in assumedly 10 people who have semblances have the potential to have two semblances, often times, but not necessarily, being one hereditary and one random. The process of unlocking the second semblance involves immense emotional distress and in some cases might not even happen for the individual who has the potential, period, thus skewing data. This gives an enhanced type power but isn’t protagonist exclusive. It shows a higher than average power capacity, but isn’t a gamebreaker to the same level as a fucking kekkei genkai or getting the powers of a fucking demigod. A good amount of characters would only have one semblance and be considerable badasses despite it and even be able to beat a couple of the few that have two.

Establish Menagerie as the official Fifth Kingdom, the newest of the great kingdoms. Maybe not the singularly strongest or most influential, but make it so Menagerie and its people, the faunus, have a considerable role in the world’s affairs, if even from an isolationist standpoint. Don’t have them as even a semi thriving entity that isn’t a kingdom because that only begs the question as to why the kingdoms are so important to begin with then.

Make the White Fang a faunus supremacist group that has very little support, if any, from the faunus people as a whole. Faunus right issues are history for the vast majority of the world and the White Fang as a whole is only using the problems in Atlas with the SDC as a means of trying to gain power. There are actual faunus rights groups trying to make things better for their race in Atlas and other marginalized areas but the White Fang dislikes them on the grounds that they go against their goal and it makes them look even worse.

Fucking pronounce names correctly, I mean, Christ. Weiss, the word, is pronounced like ‘Vice’. It’s an actual fucking word. It’s the German word for white. It’s like saying tor-till-uh not tor-tee-ah. Blake is Bella-doe-nah not Bella-dawn-uh. Shit like that. No you don’t need to put on a heavy accent to say these words but pronouncing things so inaccurately just makes you look like an ignorant rube (no, that was not a pun). I don’t fucking care what your reasons are. Why use these words in the first place if you’re not even going to try to say them right?

Ozpin is order to Salem’s chaos. Ancient demigods of both archetypes vying for power across the ages and the innocent peoples of the world be damned in the crossfire. Neither are entirely good nor evil but both are not exactly helpful to the free peoples on the world and the continued livelihood thereof. Their progenitor god created them to try and guide humanity in a balanced way. That seemed to work at first, but then failed like a bad marriage and they waged war ever since like a bad divorce. The grimm are a creation of Salem’s to test humanity and make then stronger through conflict. Ozpin ranges from the lawman to the fascist fairly duplicitously. The two can only be permanently killed by each other but neither wants to get too close to the other because of that exact same reason. If killed by other means, they will resurrect after a fashion no worse for wear.

Overt changes to (and complaints about) Ruby Rose- It is a crime that the titular character has so little actual character beyond just being ‘Hyperactive Anime Protagonist #235’. Most of her (few) character traits are tell not show, and of course she’s got the fucking rubygan bloodline ability crap. She has next to nothing that isn’t allotted by default to most anime protags on the grounds of the stereotype. For the main character to have less character than any of the members of the fucking B-team is a travesty.

1. Give her a clear rebellious streak, a distinct problem with authority, and a headstrong attitude. Daddy doesn’t want her to be in danger, so she decides to become a huntress. She’s told to stay put, so she hunts down Roman. She’s told that she needs to stay home and recover, so she sets out on her own not thinking about the exact consequences. Make her the impetus for the team’s involvement with the problems of the world in the early seasons. Make her a driving part of the plot, not just being along for the ride or because someone else said so.

2. Give her blood knight tendencies. Make her VERY willing to get into a fight with the bad guys, not just fights in general, but fights against bad guys. Nothing over the top, but enough that she has a scene or three where she says “Shut up bad guy, skip to the part where we get to kick the crap out of you,” or something of that nature. Hyper combative characters are fun and ethical.

3. Give her more traits as a mechanic and weapon nerd. Include scenes of her fixing everyone’s weapons for fun or being able to analyze an opponent’s fighting style based on the type, design, and/or wear & tear of their weapon, make her a polyglot of weapons that can be at least proficient in using just about any weapon. Come to think of it…

4. Anything that could give her actual character traits. They don’t even have to be all that major traits, just give her enough so that we actually have a character with more definition than printer paper. She’s the main character, the titular character at that. This isn’t a video game with a blank-slate protagonist. If the main character isn’t even really a character, like, at all, then what’s the fucking point?

5. Convert silver eyes power into a second semblance for white fire vision that kills grimm like nothing else. Gotten as a hereditary semblance from Summer. Which is also why Summer was specifically targeted by Salem on the grounds that it makes her just a little too dangerous for her long-term plans. This makes it so she isn’t just the fucking chosen one, but still has a clear definitive reason to be involved against the big bad because, y’know, dead mom. Yes, this kinda goes into the whole ‘bloodline is what determines importance’ thing I wanted to be rid of, but it’s only a chance two generations instead of a massive lineage of nonsense and keeps more of the onus of involvement on Ruby herself.

6. Give her a very clear motivation that’s deeper than surface level. ‘Oh, I want to do the right thing’ is a flimsy as balls motivation especially compared to the rest of her team that has that AND an actual reason for thinking that way. Why does she want to be the good guy? What happened in her life that makes her this motivated to doing the right thing? Yang has her desire to find her mother (which, come to think of it, doesn’t necessitate being a good guy), Blake has wanting to make up for being a terrorist, Weiss has her desire to step out from under the shadow of her family’s reputation, even fucking Jaune, the b-team protagonist, who wants to live up to his family reputation, has a proper motivation to be involved in the story. WHY is Ruby involved beyond ‘I’m the main character’ level reasoning? As much as admitting it makes me wish to commit Sudoku, even SAO has better main character motivations. Good god, I need hooch after typing that.

Overt changes to (and complaints about) Yang Xiao-Long- Her arc was mostly fine, barring some of the pacing. Raven being a maiden undercut the message of ‘screw that deadbeat bitch, go to your real family’ by making her important to the overall world state and confirming a measure of later relevance but that’s more a flaw with Raven than Yang.

1. Keep her motivation about getting strong enough to find her mother but add in the clear desire to kick her ass for leaving her and Tai. Of course it’s more about just getting the answers to her questions, but the ass-kicking should also be a major component.

2. Amp up the rivalry between her and Mercury. Mercury was designed as an opposite to Yang, I mean for fuck’s sake, look at him. Consider their respective backstories too; both raised in a single father home yet one was supported and loved (if a little neglected) while the other was horrifyingly maimed and abused. Punch vs kick. It works.

3. Make her more protective of her little sister, explicitly going along with her personal crusade to keep her safe (safer, rather). If she’s supposed to be the good older sister, maybe just maybe, something more than lip-service to that idea should be done. Hell, maybe she can be overprotective like their father, or even the exact opposite, not really giving a shit and then learning to give one. That might lead to a little tension and growth between the two of them.

4. Make her semblance consistent. Is she supposed to have super saiyan rage mode or is it energy buildup and dispersal? Is it supposed to be both? Just make it rage mode, for the sake of fuck, and don’t flip-flop. Speaking of…

5. Give her anger issues. Flesh out her being the kind of gal that would start a fight in a nightclub when she doesn’t get what she needed with little justification. This would stem from abandonment issues from Raven, Summer (inadvertently), and Tai and her general thrill seeking personality. This could lead to tensions and dramas until she overcomes it and learns to use her aggressive feelings and not let them use her.

Overt changes to (and complaints about) Blake Belladonna- Shitty-kitty is shitty, here’s why.

1. Do something with the hypocrisy of being, more or less, princess of Menagerie, a world power albeit a minor one, and joining a band of terrorists that do more harm than good for the people they claim to represent. It’s like a trust-fund baby joining some charity organization in Africa for a few weeks, doing jack-shit to help, joining some jihadists, and then acting like she’s Mahatma Gandhi.

2. Make her arc less about running away and fighting Adam, more about realizing that running is for assholes and try to find her team to at least apologize for cutting and running like she did. Doing that and stopping Adam are not mutually exclusive. The friend thing should be the priority. As it stands she is almost rewarded for abandoning her team just to focus on her own problems.

3. Make her arc involve going from ‘There’s no such thing as pure evil’ to ‘Okay maybe some people are just too evil to work with’. Some people are too far gone and, despite still having good traits, will only ever continue to do evil things and don’t deserve the benefit of the doubt. Not everyone has some sort of good motive beneath the surface and, even then, does that matter when the only action they do is objectively evil? Still, y’know, save who you can, like Ilia.

4. Have Belladonna not actually be her last name. If she’s the daughter of a the chief of Menagerie, the closest thing the faunus have to a unified racial leader, then how the unholy shit does nobody recognize her name? She is, again, princess of Menagerie, yet nobody recognizes the name in a grander context. Have ‘Belladonna’ be a cover name so she can hide her identity better so that she’s using what should be a very recognizable real name in a tournament that is broadcasted worldwide. Her real family name could be “Nightshade” or some shit like that.

5. If she’s supposed to be ‘The quiet one’ maybe actually have her be quiet and not make big speeches every season or have loud arguments with her team. Just a fucking thought. If she’s still supposed to do that, then make her ‘the opinionated one’ or ‘the kind of mean one’ or even ‘the one who doesn’t shut up’. Blake, as seen, or rather heard, is not the quiet one.

6. Have her actually fucking interact with Ruby. Maybe they have a two-person book club. Maybe Blake teaches Ruby to meditate or something. Anything, anything at all would be fine, anything more than nothing at all. Blake’s whole interaction with the team shouldn’t just be through Yang and cursory scenes with Weiss.

Overt changes to (and complaints about) Weiss Schnee- You can’t solve racism with like two scenes.

1. Make the racism thing a much more gradual decay rather than more or less disappearing after a single conversation. Hell, make jokes about it, ‘oh, no, one of my best friends is a faunus,’ stuff. It’s hard to unlearn an upbringing of hate, but she’s trying type stuff.

2. Involve her at least a little with the White Fang plot. It only makes sense that the heiress of the company that still more or less has slave labor is at least semi-involved with the plotline involving terrorists that want that company destroyed. Make her subject to assassination attempts at a young age, or even have her been kidnaped at a young age and held hostage, getting her scar in the process.

3. As evident by some of the intros, her rival was supposed to be Emerald. This could be serviceable, at the very least. The street rat pickpocket that had to learn life lessons the hard way and was taken in by the baddies VS. the rich heiress born with a silver spoon but raised by a dickhead. There’s potential there and it is a crime that it is not explored in the slightest. Even Yang and Mercury had a minor fight.

4. Like Yang, make her semblance consistent. Is it supposed to be summoning or physics altering magic symbols? These are two completely different powers, it’s not like super speed also giving super reflexes or whatever. Just make it one or the other, don’t bullshit us on these things. Or, hell, make it a second semblance she gets during the course of story.

5. Emphasize her loneliness. Make the main onus of her personal arc be about how she goes from this prickly, spoiled, opinionated, brat to a warm and caring friend who only wants the best for everyone. Yes, this might be the main intention in canon, but I feel it could have used a little more refining.

Overt changes to (and complaints about) Cinder Fall- If she’s supposed to be Ruby’s chief rival and foil then she needs a lot of work to even be close. She shouldn’t be nothing but the rival, but at that same time she should have that be a considerable part of her characterization and role in the series. I feel the best way to do it is to have their similarities highlight their differences in both character and design. Basically, make her the Vergil to Ruby’s Dante.

1. Make her Ruby’s age. Being the same age as Ruby while initially outclassing her, and even veteran hunters, provides risk and contrast between the two. Throw in an evil sadistic streak compared to Ruby’s happy-go-lucky personality to further the contrast and you’ve got a good little yin-yang thing for them. It also shows just how bad someone can turn out if raised to be a killing machine.

2. Keep her using the bow/twin swords as a comparably simple weapon in contrast to Ruby’s, even in universe, overcomplicated Scythe/Sniper rifle. Both weapons are long range marksmen’s weapons as well as vicious close combat weapons but are still very different in essence. Also make sure she keeps the red with black and gold color scheme is contrast with Ruby’s Black with red and silver. Even minor visual cues can work to the rival schema.

3. Make her one of the people who have two semblances. Pyromancy (pyrokinesis? Fire bending, she has fire bending) and dilated perception (bullet time) so that Ruby’s super speed and the dilated perception cancel each other out, adding a little extra tension to the fights now that both parties’ signature abilities are moot points against each other.

4. Make her competent. She kills Ozpin and Pyrrha and then she either fails or draws every fucking fight she has afterwards baring nameless jobbers here and there. Even before that, she needed help to take down Amber and even manages to fuck that up. The more failures she has and the less intimidating she is. Too much of that and she’s just a jobber that makes you wonder why she was ever seen as intimidating in the first place. When that happens then Ruby beating her is just the status quo and not a triumph of any sort.

5. Make her Ruby’s long lost fraternal twin sister. Incredibly cliché, I admit, but siblings make the best rivals, especially twins. Once again, it’s all about adding the similarities and the contrasts. In this case it creates the ‘there but for the grace of god go I’ idea with the two of them. Ruby seeing it as how evil she could have turned out and Cinder seeing it as how weak she could have been (Eventually becoming how good she could have had it because I’m a sucker for redemption arcs) Who said that?

Overt changes to (and complaints about) Team JNPR- JNPR was fine-ish but the over focus on Jaune and the underutilization of Ren + Nora early on are both issues. B-team should not get jack shit before the A-team gets the lions share.

1. Downplay Jaune’s screen time. I doubt this is a particularly controversial statement. Jaune is not the titular character. This is (technically) a shoujo not a shounen. It’s supposed to be about the girls more than the guys. It kind of undercuts that idea when the guy (the side guy at that) gets the lion’s share of characterization, attention, and growth before the girl (the main girl) does.

2. Make Ren and Nora actual characters earlier on. Comic relief is all well and good, but either extend that to the whole team or make these two characters more than just comic relief in the early parts of the story. Make them, y’know, actual characters. They ain’t gotta be all that important, but they do have to be actual characters.

3. Make Pyrrha’s deathflags less blindingly obvious. We all knew Pyrrha was going to get clipped. The self-sacrificing type, all the musical and visual cues throughout, being based on Achilles, and ‘oh she just confessed to the boy she likes’. Homegirl was waving deathflags like an insecure redneck with the confederate flag. When you foreshadow obvious things that much it’s not a surprise to the audience when it happens and the reaction of the in universe characters seems overdone. If it’s not supposed to be a surprise then, whatever, but that’s clearly not the case if you’re going for just shock value. It’s fine for a character to die, but for the love of Jaysus you got to do something with it more than ‘this character’s sole purpose is to die for the angst and to up the stakes’. Pyrrha was just a plot jobber.

4. Make them a little more independent in the overall plot. Give them their own full sub-plots, have them go on their own little adventures, have them do things completely separate from RWBY that has plot relevance but not overtaking the main story in grandeur or importance. B-team gets B-plots and are cool in it of themselves.

Overt changes to (and complaints about) Qrow Branwen- Take or leave this, I just felt the need to include this because reasons.

1. Just make him Dante from Devil May Cry. Just make his personality the same as Dante from Devil May Cry. Make him stylish and cool but low-key a massive dork. He’s too cool to drink or smoke or anything harsher than PG-13. This series could use a guy like that, says I.

2. Make his semblance something that makes sense and isn’t just an angst generator. How do you even quantify ‘bad luck aura’ as a power? Make it short range teleportation as a connection to Raven’s portals. Make it so that he can direct the bad luck at will. Do SOMETHING with it that isn’t just an excuse for mostly pointless character angst.

3. This technically also counts as a Raven change but whatever. Make the Branwen family old nobility and not a loser bandit tribe from nowhere. Or at least make it so they used to rich or something. They come from a family that had a good amount of cash and even a chateau in Mistral. After the money dried up and the chateau ransacked by grimm, the Branwen twins had differing opinions on how to proceed. Qrow fully integrated into the hunter thing while Raven ran away and became a bandit, using it as further excuse to skedaddle on Tai and a recently born Yang.

#RWBY #RWDE #I guess #Ruby Rose #Weiss Schnee #Blake Belladonna #Yang Xiao Long #Ozpin #Cinder Fall #Tagging this as much as I please #Team JNPR #Jaune Arc #Rewrite #Hate if you wish #How I would do...#Pyrrha Nikos

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ohh-baekhyun · 5 years ago

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Nothing Like Us | 04 - [M]

✨Summary: Baekhyun has the chance to spend three weeks under the same roof as you, and he makes it his sole mission to win your heart.

✨Warning: fluffss, smut, blowjob but i suck, no pun intended.

✨Gif credits: @/exo-stentialism

The next few days flew by in a blur of laughter, banter and sex. Lots and lots of sex. You and Baekhyun fall into an easy routine, like two love birds so wrapped up in each other, each day he can’t wait to get off work to be with you again. It is a pleasant feeling, knowing he has someone to go home to at the end of the day. The smile that you greeted him with made him feel so cherished, he wouldn’t trade that for anything else.

For someone who has been in a relationship and was hurt before, Baekhyun knows he shouldn’t be giving himself away this easily. But one thing about the heart is that, it doesn’t give a flying fuck what the brain thinks. Especially when the woman he is falling in love with makes it so damn easy.

He hadn’t said the three words to you yet, neither has you. But he knows he feels it, so fiercely that he had to mentally tape his mouth to keep the words from spilling. Somehow, he thinks it is better to wait, not because he is playing hard to get, but because he doesn’t want to overwhelm you, or worse, pressure you into saying it back out of obligation. If you are falling in love with him too, he wants you to realize that on your own. For now, he’ll take things day by day and pray that you’ll come to that realization soon.

The car pulls to a stop in the driveway of his residence and he kills the engine before glancing back. The entire backseat is filled with shopping bags, and inside are the things he bought just for you. There are clothes, shoes, bags, lingerie and...Christ, he sounds like a psychopath even to himself. He doesn’t even like shopping, but he was at the mall for a lunch meeting this afternoon, and he had this sudden urge to shop, not for himself but for you. If it wasn’t for the fact that he only has two hands, he’s certain he would empty out every shop available. There’s no telling how you will react when you see how crazy he is, he can only find out when he walks through that door.

Carrying the paper bags in both hands, Baekhyun heads to the front door. The housekeeper is exiting the house, and she stops in her tracks when she sees him. Her gaze lands on his fully occupied hands, then she glances up at him with narrowed, judging eyes. Ms Lee has been working here since Baekhyun was a toddler. She has witnessed all of his antiques, but this, she has never seen before.

“I know,” Baekhyun sighs. “It’s crazy.”

She scoffs. “Crazy is to put it mildly, sir...”

“You’re fired.” Baekhyun grunts as he moves past her.

The housekeeper simply smiles and walks away. Baekhyun has fired him once a month or so since he was a little boy. She knows not to take his words seriously.

As Baekhyun steps foot into the foyer, he is welcomed with a warm smell of pastries that flows from the kitchen. He makes his way there, where he finds you standing behind a marble top, brows furrowing in concentration as you carefully draw out a piece of muffin from the baking tray to set it down on an empty plate. He watches as your lips stretch into a pleased smile. Knowing you’ve succeeded this time, his chest swells with pride.

Baekhyun knows you’ve been attempting to bake muffins for him, to which you’ve failed twice. The batter was too watery on the first try, and you’d burned the muffins on the second try. He recalls the defeated look on your face as you struggled not to cry at your failure. He’d tried his best to comfort you as he wondered, why do you have to beat yourself up for such a small failure? Then he remembers how you’ve spent all your life trying to impress your parents just to earn their approval and affection, yet, you’re still abandoned in the end. There, he finally understands. You were probably afraid that he’d leave too.

Sometimes it hurts him to see you like this, but he doesn’t know how to make you believe otherwise. Because, how do you convince someone who has been abandoned by the people who are supposed to love them, not to fear it happening again? In that moment, he realized all he can do is love you, with a deepest hope that it would be enough to heal your wounds.

Baekhyun sets the shopping bags down on the floor and walks over to you. You are too immersed in your task in hand, you didn’t notice his arrival until he slides his arms around you from behind and plants a quick kiss on your temple. You gasp and whip your head around.

“Hi,” He greets, smiling down at you.

Your feature softens in an instant and you smile sweetly back at him. “Hi,” you tiptoe to press a kiss on his cheek before pulling back to stare at him. “You are right,” your smile grows. “I can do many things if I try hard enough.”

He glances down at the baking tray, then you. “I take it the muffins turn out well this time?”

You hum. “I think so.”

He clutches your body tightly against him and gives you a loving kiss on your cheek. “I knew you could do it, baby.”

You pick up a piece, swivel around and hold it up to his mouth. “Try it.”

Baekhyun takes a bite and groans a little too dramatically at the sweet flavor that melts in his tongue.

“That’s the sound you make when we have sex.” You remark. “Is it that good?”

“So fucking good.” He dips his head to take another giant bite and ended up getting chocolate all over his mouth.

You laugh at the overly enthusiastic way he chews the food. “Babe, you got something on your,” you gesture with your free hand for him to bend his head. As soon as he does, you lick his lips, bursting into giggles as he tries to kiss you and smear the chocolate on your lips.

He continues to kiss you, licking and nibbling on your lips as his hands slide under your dress to cup your ass. He gives them a hard squeeze, and his cock throbs at the sound of your moan.

“Let’s go up.” He withdraws his lips from yours. “I need to fuck you.”

You stare down at the bulge in his pants, your lips twitching. “How come you’re horny all the time?”

“Everything you do turns me on.” He says.

Your lips stretch into a coyish smile and he watches as the color suffuses your cheek. Damn if that doesn’t make him harder. He groans. Now, all he can think of is the feel of your tight pussy wrapping around his cock as he fucks you mindless.

“Come on,” He holds you by the wrist and leads you out of the kitchen.

Both of you are moving past the dining table when he stumbles over something and stops. Dropping your gaze, you find a boatload of shopping bags lying on the floor.

You scan through the logo printed on the paperbags, then you turn to him, eyes narrowing. “Do you have a fetish for women’s clothing that I don’t know about?”

“Very funny,” he poses a faux smile. “Those are all for you.”

Your lips fall agape. “Fo-for me?!” You squeak, eyes volleying between the bags and him. “But why? It’s not even my birthday or christmas, or valentine? Why are you buying me presents all of a sudden?”

“I’m your boyfriend.” he reminds. “I don’t need a reason to pamper you.”

“Baekhyun, I..” you stare at the shopping bags again, shaking your head in disbelief. “This is all too much…I can’t–“

He pinches your chin, tilting it up so you are eye to eye with him. “When you agree to be my girlfriend, what’s mine becomes yours too. You need to accept that, because eventually, I’ll want to give you more.”

You sigh and jut your lips. “I don’t have a say in this, do I?”

“When it comes to pampering you, no,” he states firmly. “you don’t.”

“Wow,” you roll your eyes. “How did I get so lucky?” you mutters, voice dripping with sarcasm.

He stares at your lips, so wildly aroused he can’t help but to smash his mouth against yours, kissing you hard. Drawing back, he says, “You can thank me with your pretty mouth wrapped around my cock.”

“Are you done?” Baekhyun calls out from the bedroom.

You are in his walk-in closet, trying out the fourth dress of the night after he made you come three times in the shower.

“Be patient,” You shout back as you tie the string of the lace-up dress.

This dress could pass as a lingerie for how skimpy it looks. You know you’ll never wear this in public. Baekhyun will never let you, too. Although you love the soft pink color and the shimmery material of the fabric, it is so ridiculously revealing that you might as well be naked. Plus, it is hugging your body so tightly you can barely breathe.

You pivot in front of the mirror to take a look at the reflection of your back. There’s barely anything covering your back other than the tied up laces. You wonder what your boyfriend reaction will be.

When you step out of the closet, Baekhyun is seated by the side of the bed. He has changed into his homewear; a white tee and black shorts; simple, yet looking so handsome nonetheless. He is rummaging through a box that you have no idea what the content is. You lean your hips on the door frame, taking your time to admire him before walking over.

Hearing your footsteps, he lifts his gaze. “What’s taking you so–oh fuck,” his lips parted in shock the second he sees you in the dress. His reaction made you snigger. He looks dumbstruck as he sweeps his gaze over your body.

You stand by the bed. “Do you like it?” you ask.

Baekhyun pulls at your wrist to sit you down on his lap. You shift your bum and drape your legs over his thighs to make yourself comfortable. His eyes scan the dress again, “I love it,” he admits as he hooks his forefinger on one of the straps. His eyes shift up to you again. “but you’re not wearing this outside this room.”

You know you’ll eventually comply to him, yet, you still raise your brows in a challenge. “Have you always been this bossy?”

“You like me bossy, or you wouldn’t be here, in my bed.”

You let out a scornful huff. “Now you sound like a cocky bast–ahh!” He pinches your nipple through the dress and hold on. You whimper, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, Baekhyun, please...my boob!” you beg. He finally releases it with a snigger. “You’re so mean!” You pout, rubbing your breast.

He pecks you on the lips. “Keep being a brat, I might spank you someday.”

“Are you…” You eye him suspiciously. “into that kinky bdsm shit too?”

The corner of his lip curls. “Speaking of kinky,” He swivels around to grab the box he was holding earlier. Your eyes follow his movement. He settles the box on your lap. Finally getting a clearer look at the content, you realize they’re a bunch of sex toys.

You look back at him, half surprised, half wondering, “Where did you get these?”

“I inherited them,” he sounds and looks serious. “from my great grandparents.”

Speechless, your jaw drop and you blink at him. You nearly fall for it until you detect a twitch on his lips, and the mirth in his eyes. You smack him across his chest. “You’re crazy.”

He flicks your forehead to retaliate. “I’m surprised you just figured that out.”

You groan, snatching the box away from his grasp. You dig your hand into the box to rifle through the content. “Why did you buy me sex toys?”

“Have you played with these before?” he asks. You shake your head. He sets the box aside and looks at you with this lazy look in his eyes. A look that means very good things to you. You gulp, anticipating.

“Take off your dress,” He says. “I’ll show you how these things work.”

You slide off his lap, and turn around to give him your back. “Can you help me out?” you ask. You heart races when you feel his warm breath on your back as he unties the laces. The front part of the dress drops to your waist and you pull the skirt down carefully. It is so tight you fear it tearing. A sudden slap on your buttcheek causes you to yelp, and you turn around in an instant. You feel the heat rising on your cheek as he stares at you. “What was that for?” You ask.

“You’re slow as a turtle,” He says. “Come here.”

You are tempted to retort, but that’ll probably earn you another spanking. So you do as he says.

When you’re seated on his lap again, he picks out a cylinder looking object that you assume is a dildo. You examine the toy, then you look at him, gulping nervously. “Are you going to put that inside me?”

His eyes hold concern when he senses your nervousness. He leans in to kiss you sweetly on the lips. “It is not going to hurt, baby.” he assures. “But I need to get you wet first.”

“I’m already…uhm, you know,” you chew on your lower lip, blushing.

He slides his fingers over your slit to test your wetness. Finding you soaked, his eyes flashed with heat and amusement. “You’re wet.”

You shrug, giving him a small smile. “Everything you do turns me on too.”

Baekhyun clicks on the tip of the vibrator to turn it on. The light, buzzing noise occupies the silence. “Spread your legs, baby.”

You parted your thigh, but as soon as the tip of the vibrator touches your clit, the sensation made you clamp your legs together. He snaps his eyes up, raising his brows in a silent order for you to open. You brace yourself as you slowly part your legs again. And your moaning starts as soon as he plunges the vibrating toy inside your pussy.

He keeps his dark eyes on you as he fucks you leisurely. “You like this, don’t you?” He asks, pumping the vibrator in and out of you. You manage a strangled hum. “Do you want me to go faster?”

“Please…” you beg, breathing heavily.

“Like this?” He starts to move his hand at a rapid speed.

“Y-yes...ah-ahh!” The volume of your moaning gets louder. And that sound seems to encourage Baekhyun to go faster and harder. Your cunt is so wet that the sloppy sound of your juice is filling the entire room. He doesn’t stop even when you are cumming all over the toy.

Three orgasms later, you’re spent and Baekhyun finally stops when he knows you’ve reached your limit. You had your arms around him as you lean your head on his chest, too weak to move. He strokes your hair tenderly and presses a kiss on your head. A smile makes its way to your lips. You close your eyes with a sigh, savouring the affection he is offering you. You love it when he takes care of you like this.

After cuddling you for a while, Baekhyun says, “I’m hard as a rock, baby, it hurts.”

You can hear the pain in his voice. You giggle softly, feeling his hard-on beneath your thigh. “Can I help?”

“Get on your knees, then.” He whispers in your ear.

You unclasp your hands around his shoulder and slides off his lap. Your legs feel wobbly and you can hardly keep yourself up, but the need to pleasure him is stronger. You lower yourself by the bed and kneel in between his spread legs. Glancing up, you wait for his next instruction.

“Take it out,” he says.

Excitement shivers through your body as you pull at the waistband of his shorts. He lifts his hips, ripping his shorts down in one movement. His erection juts up, long, thick and throbbing with veins. You lick your lips, mentally salivating at the sight of his precum.

He weaves his fingers through your hair and grabs the back of your head. “Take me in your mouth, baby.”

Your hand gravitates toward his cock, and your fingers curl around the base. You part your lips and bring the tip into your mouth, tongue swirling around the round flesh to lick off his arousal.

A grunt tears out of him as his palm clamps around your hair. “Stop teasing and suck it.” He orders gruffly.

Baekhyun is a control freak through and through, especially in bed. And you wouldn’t want it any other way.

You bring his cock deeper into your mouth and clamp your lips around it. He moans when you start bobbing your head, pushing his hard length in and out of your mouth. Closing your eyes, you revel in the sound he makes.

“Ahh fuuck, just like that...” He groans throatily. “Take it deeper, baby. You’re sucking me so good.”

You thrill at his praise and draw his cock as far as you can into your mouth. The tip touches your throat and you choke at the pressure. Water forms in your eyes but it doesn’t stop you. His pleasure is your pleasure too, you thought. So you tighten the suction of your mouth and bob your head faster. His panting grows heavier and you feel his cock swelling in your mouth. His orgasm is nearing. But he grips your hair in a fist and hold you back. You glance up through your lashes to look at him.

“That’s enough,” he tugs your hair back, letting his cock slips out of your mouth. “Get in bed.”

You’re confused but you follow his order nonetheless. With shaky legs, you rise to your feet and climb into bed. You lay on your back, all naked with your long hair spreading over the mattress.

Baekhyun sets one knee on the side of the bed and stares down at you. “I’m going to cum all over you, baby…” He wraps his fingers around his throbbing cock. “and you’re going to watch me.”

Your heart lurches at his promise. You watch as he starts pumping his hard length with vigor. Beads of sweat form around his forehead. He looks so supremely hot with his jaw clenched, and his teeth biting down on his lip. You feel breathless just by watching him.

It isn’t long until you hear a long, guttural moan rips out of his throat. He jerks, shooting his load onto you. But he isn’t done yet. After muttering a few expletives, he bends forward to position his cock near your breast. His pumps is slowing down steadily. The tip of his cock brushes over your nipple as he spurts the remaining of his cum around your breast. His warm seed trickles down your pink bud, causing goosebumps to rise all over your skin. Your breath hitches.

Baekhyun straighten his back. He seems so mesmerized as he gazes down at you. “I’ve always imagined you like this…” he takes his time to scan every inch of your body. “you look so beautiful with my cum all over you.” He bends down and braces his hands on each side of your shoulder. Then, he leans in to kiss you, long and sweet. “Stay here,” he says as he draws away.

He is leaving you and the bed now.

“Where are you going?” you question, propping yourself up on your elbows.

He stops and bring his head around. “To get my phone,”

“Why do you need your phone?”

“To take pictures of you, pretty.”

Hearing that, you sit up and grab a pillow to cover your front. “I...I don’t think I’m comfortable with that,” You say weakly. His expression changes and your heart drops at the sight of that. Is he dissapointed? God. Through your worry and guilt, you can’t seem to tell what he’s thinking. “I’m sorry.”

His expression is still unreadable as he walks over to join you in bed. He extends his arms and slid them underneath your thigh, hoisting your body up with ease. He settles you on his lap and you’re still hugging the pillow to your body. You eye him apologetically. He frowns. “What are you sorry for?”

“I don’t know...I just feel bad for saying no to you…”

“Don’t be,” he assures. “I’d be an ass for forcing you into doing things you’re not comfortable with.”

You blow away a sigh. “But I ruined the moment...”

“Ruined?” He huffs incredulously. “I get to be with the prettiest woman I've ever seen. I’m lucky. There’s nothing more I could ask for.”

Relief eases the heaviness in your chest. For a while, you can only stare quietly at him, in awe. “You always know all the right things to say.” you smile gratefully. “Thank you.”

Baekhyun lifts a hand to brush his knuckle over your cheek. He seems to be considering something in his head as he reads your expression. Hesitantly, he asks, “Will you tell me what happened?”

Knowing where he’s getting at, you nod. You trust this man with all your heart you don’t even think twice but to tell the truth.

“The guy I dated in middle school. He had a video of me…” your words fade away but Baekhyun gets the idea, so you carry on, “We were together for a while until he started to get abusive. I wanted to end things, but he threatened to spread the video if I break up with him so…”

“Middle school?” he frowns deeply. “Aren’t you underage then?”

Regret fills your eyes with tears and you nod. “I know it’s wrong, but I had been so desperate for love and he is the only person who seemed to notice me,”

“Fuck,” he presses his lips into a tight line. “How long?” his words came out rough and snappish. “How long were you dating that jerk?”

“For two years until my dad sent me to Japan,” you chuckle dryly and joke, “Maybe it’s a blessing in disguise afterall.”

He isn’t laughing, instead his face darkens, and you can feel the rage radiating off of him.

To see someone as easy-going as Baekhyun being this angry should be scary, but it feels liberating instead. Because you know his anger isn’t directed at you. This man cares enough to feel angry for you.

“Baekhyun,” you call out to him. He seems to be lost in his own thoughts. So you lean up to kiss him softly on his lips. That’s when he finally looks at you, blinking. You smile up at him, “What are you thinking about so seriously?”

He grunts. “I’m thinking about the million ways I’m going to hunt this fucker down and murder him for messing with you.”

You smooth your palm over his chest, feeling so much for him your heart nearly burst. His body seems to relax under your touch. “It’s all in the past, honey,” you assure him. “I’m okay now.”

“Did you tell anyone about this?” He asks.

You shake your head. “I can’t, it’s...embarassing.”

His brows pinched together in a frown. “Yet you told me about it...why?”

“Because I trust you,” you answer honestly.

And deep inside, you know you didn’t just trust him. You are falling in love with him too.

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