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sxtvrns · 1 year ago

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the firsts i’ve never felt

🎶 now playing: clementine - grentperez

P: Kim Jongseob x Fem!Reader

S: You find yourself wandering the headquarters after being left unattended. He finds himself unreasonably intrigued by you.

C: meet cute, fluff, puppy love, inaccuracy, a bit sloppy, mentions of bullying, kinda rushed?

N: i’ve transformed my entire feed and started a bunch of masterlists and stuff! this fic is part of one of them that i need to design and stuff but i hope you’re loving the organization because i certainly am. i really wanna write but my brain is running out of scenarios i can work off of so if you dont hear from me for a while you know why. if i don't get a hair colour right sue me i can't memorize everything | all ages listed are korean, not international!

view the rest of the conversations ☆彡

please interact if you enjoy!

“Hey, honey, do you wanna come and visit my new job today? They’re showing me around, and you’re planning to work in the entertainment industry behind the scenes, aren’t you?”

…sounds like a super unprofessional thing for your mom to say on her first day of the job. However, the staff gave her leeway somehow after saying you were an aspiring makeup artist with a growing following. She said you could join in a few years, if you’d like. You still had time to think about it.

“So, how old is your daughter?” The employee asks.

“16.”

“What kind of makeup does she do?”

“She has a rather… broad spectrum. I could go into specifics but that would require me showing you examples and taking up your time.”

“Oh, go ahead! Besides, I could use a break from the work.”

The door to the elevator opens with a ding, both adults behind you not seeming to pay attention. You quickly but stealthy walk off the elevator, their attention still focused on your mom’s phone. As the doors close, they still don’t seem to notice, instead they continue going up, and you’re left alone in the quiet, empty hallway.

Somewhat quiet, actually. There was loud music coming from some of the rooms you could hear from outside as you walked by. Your phone buzzed in your hand, though you aren’t bothered to check it until another staff member sees you in the hall. She goes on her phone, types rapidly on the screen, and starts walking towards you.

You walk away from her at a quickened pace, turning the corner and beginning to run. You turn the corner again, briefly glancing at the rooms as you pass by, all of them with people inside and the lights on. Except for one.

The sound of steps sounded like it grew withe presence of multiple people, so you had no time to check and instead opened the door, and to your relief, no one was inside. You shut it quietly, hiding against the wall in hopes that the crowd passes by.

The buzzing from your phone earlier was frantic texts from your mom, asking where you went and specifying that the staff was now looking for you. You replied calmly that you ‘took yourself on your own tour’ and ‘got off as a joke in hopes she would notice’. You could practically hear her sigh at her phone as she responds with ‘i’ll keep you updated’ before leaving you on read.

You slide down against the wall, sitting and observing the environment around you. This was a dance studio, one of many that looked the same as some of the others. You didn’t want to get caught, so you stayed there for a bit on your phone, caught off guard at the sound of someone opening the door.

At first you panic, thinking someone from staff found you, but it was just some guy adorned in all black with a beanie and a mask, taking both of them off and somehow not noticing you.

You spoke too soon.

the first meet.

His eyes widened at the sight of you, the door he held open by a sliver. You hear something from outside.

“Jongseob, there’s some new hire’s daughter on the loose and she was last seen on this floor, have you seen her?” A staff member asks, the boy’s head peeking back in to look at you. You frantically shake your head and gesture for him to keep his mouth shut as he peeks out the door right after.

“I haven’t seen her, sorry.”

He fully closes the door this time, a sigh of relief escaping you as your eyes stayed glued on the boy that was nice enough to not snitch. “What are you doing here?” He asks, a reasonable question since you were in the studio for a reason other than dancing. “My mom works here. She’s starting today. And… I may or may not have gotten off the elevator too early.” You try to sum it up.

“Why?”

“Um, they were distracted. And I didn’t think the door would close right after I got off.”

“How did they even let you in?”

“I might work someplace like this as a makeup artist. When I’m older. My mom brought me along for her tour, and… that’s how I ended up here. I was running away from staff. If you want, I can leave.”

“I didn’t lie just for you to get out and defeat the whole purpose of it. It’s okay, you can stay as long as you need to.”

“Really? I’m not intruding?”

“My members won’t be here for the next little while, if you’re overwhelmed by the presence of multiple men.”

His joke makes you laugh, and you inch out of the corner you’re hiding in more, seeing him walk towards you and open the laptop on the desk. “How old are you now?” He suddenly asks, a question you find odd at first.

“16.” (international age = 14, turned 15 after a few weeks)

“Really? Me too.”

“You looked a little young. Are you a trainee?”

“I actually debuted a few weeks ago. We’re doing some promotional stuff and we have practice today.”

“Do you want me to leave when they arrive?”

“You can stay for now. It’s up to the leader if he wants you in or not. I guess if you aren’t distracting, you could watch. But I gotta wait for him.”

“I’ll check you guys out sometime. All the groups are listed in the lobby, so…”

“P1Harmony. You’ll find us easily.”

Quiet clicks come from the mousepad, as you merely stare up at him, who seems to be so focused on the screen in front of him. He looks up, then looks down at you, and your observing gaze fixed on his face. He ponders, before holding his hand out. “Nice to meet you. I’m–“

“Jongseob. You’re Jongseob.”

You finish his sentence for him, leaving him visibly surprised as you shake his hand.

“Um, I heard them say your name from the hall.” You explain, him nodding. “I’m Y/N.”

“That’s a pretty name.”

You find yourself blushing. “Thank you… um, also for not snitching. I texted my mom that I was okay, so everything should be fine now.”

“That’s good. Maybe don’t get off the elevator while she’s distracted next time.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Music starts playing from the speakers, Jongseob walking away to the center of the room to warm up. Your eyes are on him the entire time, since there was nothing else you could focus on. Even if you tried going on your phone, the music would draw your attention away from it.

You had a short attention span.

But watching Jongseob merely warm up seemed to prove otherwise. Your eyes were glued to his movements and small yet precise spotting, how precise he was when he matched every beat and transition. You stared at his reflection and his back the whole time, gaze moving to his face.

He caught you staring, looking back at you through the reflection of the mirror with a subtle smirk before going back to dancing.

He comes back to pause the music while you space out staring at the floor, as he takes off his beanie and runs his hand through his hair. “How’d I do? Seemed like I caught your attention.”

You clear your throat. “Good. Really good.”

He believes you have another reason you aren’t telling him, still deciding to sit down beside you despite doing so. “What are you doing?” You ask, looking at him. “Sitting with you. Why, does this bother you?”

“No. Just… I thought you’d be warming up more. That seemed short.”

“It seemed short because you were watching me. I was dancing for, what, a little over 10 minutes? I think I’ve warmed up enough.”

“Right.” You say, kind of understanding what he’s saying. “I like your hair. The colour is very pretty.” A light purple that could be described as lavender was what it was. It painted him as docile, gentle. He seemed to be so, given he was sitting with you like this along the side of the room.

“Thank you.” He smiles, sounding genuine. So genuine, in fact, that he smiles at you for the first time with his teeth showing, his hand covering his mouth right after. You take a mental note of that habit. “When did you start training?” You ask.

“When I was 12.” (international age = 10, turned 11 later that year due to late birthday)

“That young?! When I was 12 I was still scared of the concept of paragraphs…”

“I’ve always wanted to be a singer. Perform for others. There was a chance, so I took it.”

“I admire you for that. Taking risks that benefited you later in the future.”

“You took a risk today.”

“I did?”

“You stepped off the elevator and outran a bunch of staff successfully.”

“And I benefited from it how?”

“You met me.”

You’re unsure if he’s flirting with you, but your face heats up regardless. “Yet I’ll never see you again. But… I enjoy your company. And I appreciate your kindness.” When you look up from the ground, he’s handing you his phone, the keypad open.

“Let’s keep in touch.”

At first, you’re a little stunned at his boldness. But you accept his offer, typing in your phone number and letting him do the same with your phone right after. “I’ll try to text you back when I can. I’m pretty busy.”

“And I’ll try to not keep my phone on silent. I’ve missed so many interviews because of it…”

“For part-time jobs?” You nod. “I later learned they weren’t paying what they should be, so I guess I dodged a bullet.”

“Do you have a job now?”

“I work at a convenience store for income. My mom’s always saying I never needed to take a part-time job claiming we’re somewhat rich, but I wanted a bit of independence for myself. And I get free food and snacks sometimes, so that’s a bonus.”

“If I come visit, will I get free food?”

“Convenience store snacks are cheap enough already. Maybe I’ll give you ₩489 off.”

(₩489 = 0.50 cents)

He laughs at your offer. “I’ll take it.”

The door suddenly opens, five other men coming in all at once, stopping once they notice the two of you sitting together against the wall.

“Hello.” Jongseob greets, getting up. “Who’s that?” One of them asks, looking at you. “A… friend.” He responds.

“How did she get in here?”

“Long story.”

Their stares are reasonable, yet they make you feel uncomfortable as you feel out of place cooped up against the wall. Jongseob seemed to notice, shooting you a quick question. “Are you okay?”

The sound of his has your head turned to face him as you nod, acting like you weren’t spaced out prior. “I’m fine. This is the rest of your group?”

“Yeah. You can stay for practice if you’d like. I’ll ask Keeho.”

Surely they wouldn’t mind, you were just afraid you’d misinterpret their gazes for glares that would scare you off. “I would, but I should go. I already texted my mom earlier that I’d be leaving while she was still working. But I’ll leave. I don’t want to be… distracting.”

“You aren’t distracting at all.” He attempts to reassure you.

“Says the one who was looking at me through the mirror’s reflection.”

“Jongseob, should we warm up?” One of the boys asks, taking off their hoodie and beanie while they all simultaneously look at the two of you. That was an indirect invitation saying that they were about to start, him getting up his spot and lending you a hand to do the same.

“Thank you, Jongseob. I’ll text you.” He nods with a smile as you leave the room, your fast paced steps almost being heard from the inside of the room.

“Who was that, Jongseob?” Theo asks as the youngest walks over. “A new friend. She kinda abandoned her mom unintentionally and hid in here from the staff.”

“Oh, her. The people downstairs were talking about it.” Intak adds.

“In a good way or a bad way?”

“Mixed. How come her mom brought her here?”

“Y/N’s planning to work in the industry as a makeup artist, and her mom wanted to show her a potential place for hiring since she’s already working here.”

“She said she’d text you.” ‘What does that mean?’ Keeho meant to ask.

“I gave her my number.”

They’re all surprised, wide eyed and everything. “Really?”

“I wanna talk to her more. I think you guys scared her off.”

“We don’t look scary.” Intak looks at himself, then everybody else. Jongseob’s eyes dart over all five of them briefly. “You guys look terrifying.”

“As if you weren’t wearing the same thing when you left the apartment.” Theo sneers, looking at him weirdly. “Hey, she liked my hair and I saved her from a bunch of staff. I’m a pretty approachable person even with the coverups.”

“You approached her.” Theo retorts.

“And?”

Intak, very obviously antsy, whines. “Can we just start, please? We’ll talk about this later.” He groans in distress, convincing the rest of the boys to move on. Keeho speaks up first from the sea of silent stares.

“Let’s go, then.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

On the way home from school, you usually take the shift right after at the convenience store you worked at. It was close to home but not far from school, you managed to be on time for majority of your shifts.

Your coworker seemed to be eye candy for the girls your age that came in, but you saw him more as an older brother figure. He was super nice and always filled in for when you weren’t feeling well, and frankly, you thought it was a bit strange girls your age were pining over a man in his late 20s.

You had your fair share of attraction to more famous people that were older than you, but the fact you knew your coworker long enough to know things about him kind of made some situations awkward. Sure, he was cute, but come on. He’s practically looking for an actual job already and the fact he’s stuck with you is because he actually enjoys his part-time and you two were always only available for the same time slot every day.

You weren’t working today. You knew he was. So you assumed that it would just be a straight shot walk home.

Until you remembered you were a victim of verbal harassment.

You never did anything wrong, you were just laughed at and picked on by a specific group of girls for a reason you didn’t know. You always believed it was because you were prettier than them, given that their crushes ended up all mutually pining over you rather than them.

It’s a joke that you laugh at with them at times, yet the girls still don’t seem to like you.

At least they weren’t cutting your hair or anything. You could take words but you couldn’t take a pencil being dug into your hand.

So when you saw those girls turn the corner, you ran, fingers crossed they didn’t see you.

“Y/N, come back! We have something to tell you!”

They saw you.

With your backpack almost falling off, and the sound of rapid footsteps that sounded like they were getting closer, you spot the convenience store you worked at and run in, your coworker behind the desk and watching you hide behind the shelf closest to the wall.

At first, you’re panting, out of breath and coughing as you try to get it back.

“Y/N?”

You look up.

Jongseob is standing there, fridge door held open by his hand with a drink in the other, small clouds of steam coming from the cool air hitting the heated room. “Hi.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You would’ve told him the truth if the story was so long. You peek up from the shelf, fully standing up when you see no one there. “Are you hiding from someone?” He asks, obviously and reasonably clueless as he lets the door close. You merely nod, seeing the girls out of the corner of your eye through the glass and ducking down again, dragging Jongseob along with you.

The bell above the door rings as shuffling can be heard going towards the counter.

“Shin-Il! We saw Y/N come in here, did you see her?” One of the girls’ ear piercing voices rings in your ears, their attempt at acting cute and desperate simply making you cringe. Luckily you told your coworker about your complicated situation with these girls. “No, sorry. She isn’t working today.”

While you’re mentally pleading that they don’t care enough to check around the store, Jongseob’s eyes stay on you and dart around just in case, being able to hear the brief conversation as he stares.

“We’re looking for her! Are you sure she isn’t in the bathroom or something?”

“She isn’t here. Maybe she went somewhere else.”

They all whine, leaving the store as you let out a sigh of relief. You look up to see Jongseob offering you a hand, which you accept, helping you up as you lean against the fridge door, in disbelief that those girls were so clueless.

“Why were they looking for you?”

“They hate me, that’s why.”

“Why would they hate you?”

“Because I’m prettier than them. Long story.”

“The boys they liked all ended up liking Y/N collectively. Friendly with the boys, tormented by the girls.” Shin-Il suddenly appears out of nowhere, handing you a small bottle of water. “Who’s this, Y/N?”

“My friend.”

“How do you two know each other?” Jongseob asks.

“We work together part-time. We always end up picking the same shifts, and I make sure she doesn’t get killed by her fellow classmates when they come to visit.”

“Are these girls really bullying you, Y/N? Have you brought it up with anyone?” Jongseob asks, the worry noticeable in his tone. “They haven’t physically harmed me. When you consider all the details, they’re just jealous.”

“I don’t know any of the details, and that’s why I’m concerned.”

“I’m fine, Jongseob, really. I think I just… need to stay in here for a while. Just in case they’re in any of the other stores.”

“I can walk home with you, if you’d like.” He starts. “Um, just in case they show up or something, I can like, cover you–“

“I’d like that.”

You cut him off with your straightforward answer, and he seemed to be content as he sends you a closed lip smile. “Are you ready to go? Do you want anything?” He asks, looking out the window just in case. “I haven’t eaten lunch today, but I don’t have enough money on me.”

“I can pay for you. Get whatever.”

“Really? But I don’t know when I’ll pay you back.”

“You don’t have to if you can’t.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure.”

“Jongseob–“

“Y/N, please. It’s okay, really. If you want to stay here and eat, you can do that too. I’ll wait.”

You feel a bit guilty as you get yourself dosirak and a small container of banana milk, seated at the window seat as Jongseob pays for your food. He sits down beside you, looking at the window and staring at you through your reflection in it. “Is it okay if you can tell me why those girls don’t like you?”

You swallow. “It’s really not a big deal, Jongseob.”

“Yes, it is. I know we’ve only ever talked a few times through text, but I’m… it sounds concerning that they’re willing to chase you for a few insults.” You sigh, taking a sip of your banana milk before trying to rack together all the pieces of the story.

“Well, Shin-Il kind of explained it to you already. Those girls have a crush on some guys, and those guys, at one point, ended up liking me. Now I just make fun of them for it as an inside joke, so I’m friendly with them. They don’t like me in that way anymore. Those girls dislike me because the guys liked me instead of them. Does that make sense?”

“Yeah. That’s… stupid.”

“It is. They’re too ignorant to see that there’s really nothing there anymore. Otherwise, I feel we could be good friends. But I’m patient enough to wait until they realize their harassment was for a reason thats existence already faded away.” You continue to wolf down on your food, as hungry as you were, Jongseob merely keeping watch outside and of you. To make sure you weren’t choking, of course.

As you leave the store and your walk home begins, so does the empty feeling in the air.

“Are you sure the walk home isn’t far?” You ask. “No, I’ll be okay. It won’t be dark for a bit.”

“And… I promise I’ll pay you back, okay?”

“You really don’t have to…”

“Yes, I do. I know you’re an idol and all that, but you’re still a human with morals.”

“If you insist. But if you can’t, you don’t have to.”

“I will.”

Jongseob’s beanie hides his vibrant purple hair, and as much as you are disappointed you aren’t able to see it, you understand that it would be a dead giveaway that he was in the entertainment industry.

“I watched your show the other day.”

“Really? How did I do?”

“You were awesome! I think it’s cool that there’s an idol out there my age, and I’m friends with you, no less. You looked really good, too.”

“Thank you…” He wasn’t expecting to get so flustered over your compliments. Lucky he had no choice but to wear his mask. Jongseob watches as you bring your phone to your ear as you send a greeting over to the person on the other side of the line.

“I’m coming, I’m on my way home.”

“Yes, I’m okay. I’m with a friend right now.”

“He’s walking home after me, he’ll be okay.”

“Look, can you not be go crazy over this right now? I’ll talk to you later.”

“What do you mean ‘you want to meet him’?! You never want to meet anyone!”

“Okay, okay, fine, just stop screaming in my ear. Bye.” You end the call and let out a frustrated growl as you tighten your grip on your phone. “Everything okay?” Jongseob asks hesitantly.

“Just because I said I’m walking home with a ‘he’ my mom’s freaking out over it and now she wants to meet you.”

“I think I’ve run into your mom while at headquarters. She acknowledges me but is usually in a rush.”

“She’s usually late, that’s why. But she always gets one step ahead of her work, so she always gets excused. But seriously, is it just because you’re a guy that she wants to meet you? She didn’t ask to meet my other female friends and they just met her voluntarily while walking with me.”

“What about your dad?”

“Overseas for work. He’s coming back in a few weeks. He’s much more laid back. I think my mom is a bit… overprotective. I can understand that, but she could’ve asked me to introduce you without screaming at me…”

“Is she… abusing you?”

“God, no! It’s just one of those days, y’know? Maybe she got pissed off she stubbed her toe or something. And just because she always wants to keep watch over me, I feel like retaliating.”

“Is that why you stepped off the elevator?”

“Not really. Maybe.”

He can’t help but smile after uncovering your true motive.

As you approach the door, you have no choice but to knock given that your keys were probably buried somewhere deep in your backpack. Your mom opens the door with a relieved sigh as she opens her arms for a hug, which you reluctantly accept in front of Jongseob. “I’m so sorry for yelling at you, honey, I… I was having a bad day and I took it out on you and I was worried that–“

“Mom. It’s okay, I get it.” She smiles softly, any grudge you held against her melting away instantly. It was surprising how she was able to manipulate you so quickly. “You’re friends with Jongseob?” She asks.

“You know his name?”

“Of course I know his name, your mom works at FNC too.” She says, referring to herself in the third person. “Are you sure you can walk home alone? Isn’t it a bit far by foot?”

“I’ll be okay, ma’am.”

“I can give you a ride, it’ll be much faster.”

“My dorm isn’t too far from here and it won’t be dark for a while. Thank you for the offer.”

“Get home safe, okay?”

“I will. Bye Y/N.” He says his goodbyes as he walks away from the premises of your house, your mom letting you in and closing the door fully. “You didn’t tell me you were friends with Jongseob. I would’ve started bringing you to work after school so you don’t have to stay home alone. I could get you a pass to come in.”

“Isn’t that an abuse of your position?”

“I care about my daughter, what kind of abuse is that?”

You sigh followed by a smile as you begin to head up the stairs.

“You should’ve gotten his phone number before he left!” She yells before you disappear into your room.

“I already have it!” You yell back.

“Since when?”

You freeze, unable to think of an answer.

“Long story!”

“I have time!”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“Shin-Il!”

“Shin-Il, I got this for you!”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Shin-Il!”

You roll your eyes as the countless crowds of girls just keep coming into the store. As much as it was annoying, you were glad you basically hogged all the free time since Shin-Il just had to be at the counter to tend to the flock.

“You could be doing better things right now.” He says, turning back to look at you. “Like what?” You rhetorically ask, looking up from your phone. “Restocking the shelves, cleaning the floors, doing your homework.”

“I am a very diligent student, thank you very much.”

“You don't even go to cram school. What about your fans?”

“I already posted last week. They know how intricate the process can be.” He begins to leave when you stop talking. “Gonna use the bathroom. The minute you stand up, you’re on register duty for the rest of the shift.”

“Then I’m not gonna stand up.”

He snatches the phone out of your hand, dangling it above his head. “Hey!” You jump up, struggling to reach your phone. Curse men for being so tall. “Give it back!” He hands the phone back to you, putting a hand on your shoulder and whispering into your ear.

“Your shift begins now.”

Jerk.

“That wasn’t even fair!” Shin-Il ignores you as you hear a door from a distance shut and lock. You sigh, annoyed, shoving your phone in your pocket before briefly scanning whatever was in view in case it needed restocking.

You don’t seem to be paying attention, because by the time you blink, a person is waiting at the counter.

“I’m so sorry, I’ll take those.” You apologize, embarrassed, scanning the person’s items and bagging them for him. You’re struggling to make eye contact as the person pays you, insisting you keep the change as they walk off. “Next.” You call, the person in line putting his things on the counter.

“Did you find everything you–“ You look up to see Jongseob, an innocent, toothy smile on his face. You noticed his fang, something you couldn’t help but find charming. “Hi.”

“Hi. Slow today?”

“All the customers came for Shin-Il and that’s it. You’re the second person I’ve served today.”

“I’m honored.”

“I don’t even know where he is and why he’s taking so long in the stupid bathroom. Anyways, how come you came here? Isn’t there a place closer to your dorm?”

“I just happened to be in the area. I also wanted to see you.”

Your heart flutters at the thought, but you shove those feelings down before it can reach your head. “Really? You could’ve just went someplace closer.”

“I figured I’d come say hi. I feel like this is the only time we can see each other like this.”

“Like what?”

“Like normal teenagers with normal lives.”

He pays for his items, leaving a container of banana milk out of his grasp. “You forgot–“

“It’s for you. Take it.”

“Jongseob, how am I gonna pay you back?”

“Don’t.”

“But–“

“Shhh.” He leans in, sliding the container towards you. “Let me be nice to you, okay?” He pulls away, acting as if he wasn’t so bold a few seconds ago. “Do you want me to walk you home again? I’ll ask the guys to come find me so I won’t have to walk home alone.”

“I don’t– um... I’ll be off a bit late.”

“Which gives me more of a reason to walk with you. It’s dark and you’ll be alone.”

“You know I don’t live far.”

“And you know that this is a safer decision and you’re ultimately denying it for the sake of my safety and convenience.”

“Jongseob, your safety matters way more than mine. You’re a freaking idol, for God’s sake. And I thought you came alone, what do you mean the guys can find you?”

“We decided to go out together. We ended up splitting up to explore and look around by ourselves. I think I’m the only person that went alone."

"I can tell. Did you ask them if they wanted anything?"

"Theo and Jiung are grabbing food for later." He pauses. "My offer still stands." He reminds, persistent. You look at him, appreciating his kindness but unsure if he was willing to wait. "I don't get off until 8."

"I'll walk around after I eat. You can call me when you're done."

Though you feel a bit guilty, it really seemed like he wasn't backing down. "Sure. Thanks. You're also holding up the line." He smiles before taking his items with him as he finds a seat, you taking the banana milk and sliding it closer to you and to the side. Shin-Il finally comes back after taking who knows how long in the bathroom, eyes landing on your friend.

"He's here again. You two must be close."

"Eh... lucky circumstance. What were you even doing in the bathroom, you weirdo?"

"What else would I be doing besides use it for its intended purpose?"

"No one pisses for 5 minutes, Il. You aren't fooling anyone. Is it that girl you're talking to?"

"I am not talking to anyone."

"When those girls find out they are gonna freak."

"I was buying tickets for a thing."

"I thought all public events were closed. You aren't that slick."

"Okay, maybe it is about that girl, but we're just going somewhere, that's all. But I was buying tickets for an exhibition, she loves art."

"Aw, how cute. So when's the wedding?" You take a sip from the small container of banana milk Jongseob bought for you, noticing he isn't in his seat anymore. How did he eat so fast? "Y/N, can you do restocks? We'll make more sales if I'm at the counter."

"You aren't that handsome. The schoolgirl rush is over, no one's gonna come in."

You were wrong.

Many people came in, just not his usual audience, but at least they weren't all up on him. You could hear the compliments from the fridge, but nothing seemed to bother you or him one bit.

As you take an empty box to the back, you go to grab another one until Shin-Il stops you. "I'll take it from here. Mun-Hee clocked in early. And you have a visitor." He pats your back as you get up, seeing Jongseob waving at you with a smile, taking his phone out and showing you the screen.

"It's 8 o'clock."

At first, you're shocked by his dedication, but frantically hurry to the back to clean up and grab your things in order to not keep him waiting. When you get back, you see him talking with your coworker, and you interrupt in order to stop Shin-Il from potentially saying anything embarrassing.

"All ready? Let's go."

You both say your goodbyes as you walk out the store, Mun-Hee nudging Shin-Il in the side. "Kid's got a boyfriend now?" She asks, only receiving a shrug in return. She's content with the answer, going back to your unfinished restocking job.

"You really did mean it when you said you'd wait."

"Of course I did. Why wouldn't I?"

"Sometimes people change their minds or things happen out of their control that they just can't make it."

"I just walked around the park nearby and stuff. And– oh, I just remembered something." He stops, taking his beanie off and putting it on your head, revealing the alluring lavender that coloured his hair, something you secretly found appealing. You don't even have time to process that you were wearing the hat that covered his beautiful colour. "Jongseob, your hair. People might recognize you."

"Brought an extra. It's a bit late, so I doubt I'll get asked for a photo."

"So you planned this?"

"Whenever you send me selfie updates, you're never wearing a hat. You aren't even wearing a scarf, are you not freezing?"

"I am. I didn't think it'd get this cold, so I didn't bring one since it was warmer this morning."

"It'll always be colder at night, Y/N. You need to remember that, especially since you're working late."

"Did you even wash this?"

"Five times through the cycle. You seem to like it when we see each other, and conveniently, colder weather is approaching so I thought you should have it. You don’t have any hats at home?”

“I forgot to bring one. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. No need to pay me back, by the way.”

By the time you look back at him, his hair is covered again with another beanie, his stealthiness making you stifle a chuckle. “What?”

“I like your hair. I sometimes wish you didn’t have to hide it.”

“Well, I don’t necessarily hide it, I usually just wear hats because it’s more comfortable for me. A lot of people are dyeing their hair now, so I don’t think I’ll get recognized if I didn’t wear one.”

“How many people have you seen with purple hair in public?”

“Quite a few people, actually. So do you want me to take it off?”

“Huh? Why? Aren’t you cold?”

“At least I have a scarf. And you said you wished I didn’t have to hide it.”

“Weren’t you the one who said we shouldn’t risk anything when asking to walk me home?”

“Fair. But that’s a completely different scenario. I took a risk going down the path I’m still on today.”

“That is irrelevant.”

“Worth a shot.”

He walks with you to your door again, ringing the doorbell as you waited an unusually long time for your mom to answer.

“My mom said she could get me a card for FNC so I could stay there instead of alone at home after school. I tell her once and I’m already being pampered.” You laugh, Jongseob’s face lighting up. “Really? You should text me when you arrive! I’ll come find you, and I won’t bother if you have homework to do!”

“She hasn’t gotten it for me yet, I’m still thinking about it.”

“You should say yes so we can see each other in person more often! As long as your school isn’t far from headquarters, though.”

“We see each other when we call.”

“Seeing you like this is often just my luck. Otherwise I’m busy practicing or resting in the dorms. I like being able to talk to you in person.”

And as he smiles, that same one always on his face whenever you two seem to be together, you remember that he’s still just a kid. He’s the same age as you and he’s already in the spotlight, under the watchful eyes of so many fans through their screens.

You get to see him beyond that screen. You’ve been able to see him, meet him, know him beyond his idol persona. And he’s comfortable enough to share who he really is with you. You feel grateful for that.

The front door opens, your mom welcoming you in and noticing your friend by the door as well. “Jongseob, what a nice surprise! Such a coincidence you two ran into each other again. Thank you for walking with Y/N.”

“You’re welcome, Mrs. L/N.”

“Do you need a ride back?”

“Jongseob!” Someone calls, a group of five guys crowded outside your house, which you then identify as his group. “Let’s go, dude! Food’s gonna get cold.” Another one adds.

“I should get going. See you tomorrow, hopefully?” He asks, almost promising.

“Yeah. See you tomorrow.”

You both stand there for a moment, looking at each other as if you were anticipating something as your mom goes ahead inside, the door still open. He suddenly steps forward and wraps his arms around you, one of his hands resting on top of your head.

You’re surprised, but return the hug carefully before he pulls away, sending you a small wave as he goes to join his group in departing.

Jongseob feels an elephant in the room as he walks with them, Theo carrying on a conversation that didn’t seem to make the vibe go away. It doesn’t seem to until they all got back to the dorm, when they started eating.

“That’s a different hat. What happened to the other one?” Intak asks rhetorically. “Y/N had it.” Soul answers nonchalantly, not seeming to understand the sarcasm behind it. “I gave it to her. She was cold.”

“Is she borrowing it?” Jiung asks. “I gave it to her. It’s hers now.” Jongseob reiterates, his point clarified.

“How does Soul know her name and we don’t?” Keeho asks, mouth full. “I talk to her all the time, do you not hear?” Everyone but Soul shakes their head. “She’s nice.” Soul adds.

“Hopefully she can come after school tomorrow. Her mom is trying to get her admission in so she doesn’t have to stay at home.”

“You met her mom?” Intak asks, Jongseob nodding. “I run into her in the halls, sometimes in the elevator.”

“What was the hug for? I swore she looked like she could’ve fallen asleep in your arms.” Theo asks, pointing out something that had Jongseob questioning.

“I… I don’t know.”

his first crush.

“I was feeling nice, I guess. It was cold. She looked cold.”

Jongseob didn’t really have a reason. He couldn’t think of why he left you off with a hug that night. The question kept him up all night.

Along with the speed of his racing heart.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

seob

seobie

jongseob

hi sorry

whats up?

my mom is looking for you what dance room are you in

why is she looking for me?

has to give you something? idk she told me to ask

okay im in 205

thanks

Jongseob puts his phone down and goes back to warming up, taking off his hat and focusing on himself. More specifically, his hair.

‘I really like your hair. I sometimes wish you didn’t have to hide it.’

Why couldn’t he get that out of his head?

As the song begins to end, he hears a knock on the door, finishing off and pausing the music before answering. He opens the door to reveal you, still in your school uniform.

“Hi!” You greet. At first, he’s stunned. You’re really here, and you’re really visiting him. “I got a card from the front desk.” He’s still standing there, jaw slack, staring at you in disbelief. All of a sudden, he’s hugging you, hiding your face in his shoulder as he looks up to check the halls, guiding you in and closing the door.

“Don’t want them to see you. But hi.” He mutters, clearing his throat after pulling away.

“They know I’m here. Have you warmed up yet? Are the rest of them coming?”

“Not for a while. I think I’ll take a break–“

“You dyed your hair!”

He freezes as your hand goes up to touch it. His color changed from lavender to a deep, light red. “Yeah. Do you like it?”

“It looks really good on you.”

“Do you prefer this or the purple?”

“Honestly, you look good with any color.” You sit down on the ground, opening your backpack but pausing before going any further. “Can I do my homework? I have one question left and it’s super easy.”

“Go ahead.”

Jongseob can’t help but focus on you the whole time, when you take your papers and pencils out, when you read through the worksheet, when you begin to write, so concentrated in the moment. He finds himself staring, and you do too.

“All done.” You look up to see him returning your gaze, something there when your eyes meet. “What was so interesting about me and my schoolwork?”

“Huh?”

“You were staring at me.”

He flushes, shaking his head and denying immediately. “No! I wasn’t!”

“Come on, you can admit it. You think I’m pretty.”

“I–“

“I think you’re pretty.”

You cut him off, answering with no shame and an innocent smile on your face. He can’t help but think you mean more than you really do. “You do?”

“Oh, I do. Your hair, your face, your style. It all compliments so well. Take it from me, I’m an artist.”

He thinks to himself as you await his answer. “I think you’re pretty too.”

“Really?”

“Really pretty.”

You both have the same kind of war going on in your head. You wish the other really meant it, but something was holding you back from believing they did. To outsiders, you looked like two people in love. In your head, you were hoping he really meant what he was saying.

“I, um, hope you don’t mind if I stay in for practice. And I do want to talk to you before your members get here.” You try to divert the conversation with the atmosphere telling you closure was needed. “Yeah, we’re working on our comeback actually, so…” He holds out his pinkie.

“You have to promise not to tell anyone. Not a peep.”

You lock your own with his. “Promise.” You both giggle at the gesture as your fingers pull away. “I know this is gonna sound like a really stupid, cheesy question, but do you mean it?”

The way you start off catches his attention. “Do I mean what?”

“When you said I was pretty.”

He’s stunned, stuck in place as he stares at you while forgetting to answer. “I know we’re still young, but I’ve had my heart toyed with before. And all he did was laugh.” You scooted closer to him. “So what I’m asking is, ‘seob, do you really think I’m pretty? Or are you just being nice?”

“What answer are you hoping to hear?”

“That you do. That you mean everything you’ve ever said to me.”

He’s frozen, all he can do is stare into your eyes as you await a response. “Yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yes, I do mean it. You, Y/N, are one very pretty girl.”

“How many pretty girls do you see while out for work?”

“Many. None of them are as pretty as you.”

her first crush.

You know you’re the one that instigated this conversation, but still, you can’t help but blush at his response. “You’re all red.” He points out. “Do my words really mean that much to you?”

“All I wanted was closure.”

The door opens, Jongseob patting your head and joining the rest of the guys as if he didn’t just have you melting a few seconds ago.

You sat in the corner of the practice room, your face still hot, and your eyes focused on Jongseob the entire time.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

i want you to come visit but my mom isnt letting any visitors in the house

how come?

apparently we’re having a dinner party here in a few days or something? idk shes trying to keep it clean beforehand cuz my dad is finally coming back from his trip

he’s been overseas for how long??

a few months now, some promotion that he got resulted in him staying longer

oh wow

well you could come over to my dorm

actually?

i gotta ask the guys first

oh if u have to ask then its okay maybe next time

they said yes

i hear them cleaning up

what

are you coming or not

omw

You knock on their door, and when no one responds, you call Jongseob, and it suddenly opens to reveal sight of him holding the phone up to his ear.

“You have… a lot of stuff.” He points out, eyeing the large bag you’re carrying. “Are you sleeping over or something?”

“I actually… if it’s okay with you… wanted to do your makeup. I know you’ve been saying how much you want to try it and stuff and I figured we could do it if I saw you today but I forgot to ask–“

“Absolutely. Yes, please, come in, no one’s in my room. ‘Cause… I share a room, and, Jiung’s out and the rest are watching a movie.”

“I get it. I get your whole rooming thing. Am I gonna be in trouble for being here?”

“Not if you don’t get caught.”

“How mischievous of you. If you were to ever get into a scandal with me, would you care?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t mind that at all.”

You laugh it off as if your face wasn’t on fire, closing the door to his shared room.

“Ew, are they gonna make out in there?” Intak says in disgust with fake repulsion. “Just because Jongseob can get a girlfriend and you can’t is not a valid reason to be petty.” Keeho holds back his laugh. “Theo– you can’t say that! That is not funny!”

“Then why are you laughing?”

“…watch the movie.”

Meanwhile, in Jongseob’s room, you finish off his base, tapping brushes against palettes before gently stroking the pigments against his face. His eyes, specifically. The medium shade brought out the orange in his hair, but really, you’ve been wanting to try out a specific look for a while.

“Keep your eyes closed.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Why?”

“Makes me feel old.”

“You’re older than me.”

“I’m the same age as you. Now hush.”

He blows a raspberry as you do his eyeliner, a miracle it didn’t smudge or that you didn’t mess up in any way. It was almost adorable how eagerly he nodded when you showed him your container of extra rhinestones.

You hand him a mirror, putting your extra equipment away before finding a tube of lipstick. “Wow.” is all he says until he puts the mirror down and sees you putting on said lipstick. “Oh, you were actually gonna… do that part?”

“Oh, no. I was just swatching. It’s a pretty shade, don’t you think?” Your lips are painted with a vibrant shade of red, bold and eye-catching as you turned to face your friend who’s struggling to keep his jaw from hanging. “Yeah. Really… bright.”

“Well, you know my style. Bold and bright. I decided to… take a break for a change. And I took it out on you.”

“You call this a break? I look fabulous.”

“It’s the rhinestone effect. But yes, this is a break since I only do my face most of the time. And the colours are neutral, but defined. Makeup therapy for me is a total stress reliever, but obviously my face can’t handle powders daily. And… I really needed this, especially after this week.”

“Exams?”

“I took them already.”

“This early?”

“I’m taking AP classes since I don’t do cram school. My school is aware, and honestly, surprised at my career choice. Peer pressure is getting to me more than it should.”

“I hope you don’t feel guilty about this in any way. You’re so talented.”

“My only talent is this. Maybe I’ll work behind the scenes in the entertainment industry all my life. And… there’s something else I need to tell you.”

“What is it?”

You exhale. “I got the job.”

“The job?”

“I’m your travelling makeup artist. I’ll be going with you for future tours and everything.”

He can’t stop his jaw from dropping now. “No way. You’re serious?” He asks, watching you nod eagerly as a big smile grows on his face, going in for a hug which you tightly return. “Y/N– that’s amazing! Does this mean I’ll get to see you every day?”

You nod. “It’s why I’m taking AP. Maybe I’ll switch next year, but I’m exempt from classes because of my success.”

“Wow, so privileged.”

“I’m just good at my job.”

You hear him chuckle, his eyes focused on you and that damn red lip. “I’m proud of you. I’m so proud of you.”

“Thank you.” You stifle a laugh. “I’m sorry, it’s just hard to take you seriously with the makeup.”

“You’re the one that did it!”

“You’re never in my style, and it’s over the top!”

The door opens and you immediately pull away from Jongseob, taking out cleansing products after sorting everything else in your bag. Theo stands there, still, staring at your friend all glammed up.

“How do I look?” Jongseob asks with dramatic poses to show off his makeup, Theo taking out his phone and taking pictures of him silently. “You did this?” He asks you, pointing at the boy that had your heart racing. “Did I do good?”

“He looks great. You should come out and show the guys.”

“I don’t wanna watch the movie out there though.”

“You can go back in here and continue making out with Y/N or whatever it is that you were doing in here in the first place.”

“I was not– hey!” Theo’s dragging Jongseob out of the room by his wrist, unable to keep his grip on the doorframe as you hear him groan. You can all hear the guys gushing over Jongseob’s face from the room, poking jokes at him and teasing him.

“Is that lipstick? Did she kiss you?!”

“No, no, nothing like that! She was swatching and it must’ve smudged on me…”

“I thought you two were kissing when I walked in.”

“We hugged.”

“Sure.” One of them snarkily replies.

“I’m gonna tell you who dies if you don’t stop talking.” You hear Jongseob threaten, referring to the movie that was currently on pause in the living room.

“No!”

He silently comes back to the room, seeing you sitting there, cleansers still out as he shuts the door. “Is there really lipstick on me?” He asks, turning his head so you could see all angles of his face. “Oh, right there. How did I not notice that?” You get up with a makeup wipe, swiping it gently against the mark until is goes away.

It was only until you moved away that you noticed how close you were, and that he notice something missing. “You wiped off your lipstick already?”

“I told you I was swatching. I took photos.” ‘And I could see the way you looked at me.’ You thought. “I’d like to post them, but you’re an idol and all, so…”

“A shame, really. Do you wanna eat? Jiung got some takeout, and I don’t wanna take off your hard work for a little while.”

“Sure, but don’t expect me to take you seriously while you’re all glammed up.”

“You did this to me!”

“We are not having this conversation again.”

his first love, where he can’t imagine being with anybody else but you.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Jongseob’s met a lot of pretty girls. As an idol, it’s only natural he has to work with them, be in the same premise as them. Yet he can never see anything more to them because they aren’t like you.

Your snarky replies, your teasing, your genuine questions and need for reassurance, your automatic response to rely on him, contact him whenever you’re feeling overwhelmed. Maybe it was because he’s spent so much time with you that he built this connection, but he learned that no one else could replicate this feeling he was so comfortable with.

This feeling that he only felt with you.

His members teased him mercilessly, especially on your first day on the job. You were assigned to him and specifically him (according to a colleague, he requested you), and every time anyone of his fellow group saw you working so close with him, they’d start laughing.

Jiung and Intak would take Jongseob’s phone from him if they were to ever find him on call with you. Keeho would give him those looks whenever he saw him smiling at his screen, and on his screen was you. Theo and Soul… they left him alone for the most part. They’d say hello and you guys would chat, but of course, Theo with his natural older brother energy, would occasionally tease him about it, usually through complaints.

“Jongseob, can you stop talking to your girlfriend and go to sleep? We have practice tomorrow.”

“Geez, you wanted her to swatch on you, didn’t you?”

“Watch where you’re going with that! I know you’re practically in love with her, but you should still pay attention to your surroundings!”

Soul simply encouraged the idea of you two together.

“She really likes you, I can tell.”

“Will you be out of the dorm more often when you two start dating?”

“You got her a ring? When is the wedding?”

And all Jongseob really wanted was to figure out if you really did like him or not. Because he felt like he could never experience such euphoria with anyone other than you.

He was only 18, why did he seem so sure about this? His mind was certainly older.

The door to the studio opens, and you enter, dropping your school bag onto the floor and looking absolutely spent.

“Are you okay?” He asks as you walk over, head in his chest. “Not even a hello?” You joke, looking up at him. “Tired. Long day. School’s a real pain in the ass when you have things to do outside of it. You’re lucky you’re busy enough that you don’t have to go.”

“Sometimes I wish I could. I’d enroll at your school and take all the classes with you so I’m not alone. Speaking of school, what happened to those girls who chased you?”

“Oh, them?” You laugh. “We’re cool now. One of them apologized to me. The rest followed. It took one longer than the rest to muster up the courage. They thought I hated them which is why they couldn’t talk about it in the first place, which is understandable.”

“Did you forgive them?”

“Not right away. I accepted their apology, but I’ll talk to tomorrow. It’s a little bit scary leaving work in fear of being chased and they kinda ignited that in me. I could never hate them, though. Maybe that’s a lie, but I guess when I thought I hated them, I was just afraid.”

“You’re so insightful it’s honestly attractive.” You look at him, amused. “Are you flirting with me, Jongseob?”

“Oh, I’m just being honest.”

“Sure. Your birthday just passed and your ego is suddenly through the roof.”

“Well, I am Kim Jongseob, so maybe my ego should’ve been through the roof a while ago.”

“Now you’re just sounding arrogant.”

“I’m just better.” You roll your eyes, looking at the computer in the corner of the room on the counter. “Can I change the music?” You ask, watching him walk over and open the right tab for you. You change the keyboard language to English, searching up a name so fast he doesn’t comprehend that the music already started. You walk away as he stays and reads the name off the screen.

Clementine – grentperez

He looks at you, who happened to already be waiting for him in the center of the room. He walks over, spinning you around and catching you, visibly surprised when the singing begins. “It’s in English?”

“Mhm.”

“Can you understand it?”

“A little bit. Otherwise, I like how it sounds. Can you understand it?”

“I’ve been getting better… at least I try to. It sounds good.”

“I should send you more of his works. I think you’d like those too.” You feel his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you close enough into a hug. “Is this okay?” He feels you nod against his chest, your arms wrapping up and around his neck as the two of you simply sway to the music that filled the room.

To be in Jongseob’s arms, your best friend’s arms, like this was something you didn’t know you wanted to experience for as long as you could. This felt intimate, feeling closer with him like this more than any other hug you’ve shared.

You two probably looked like idiots to anyone that would walk in, but it was just the two of you, and all you could think about was how comfortable it was in each other’s arms.

There’s a spark. A spark that turns into a growing flame when your eyes meet. A flame that you wanted to keep ablaze but was on the edge of extinguishing. “You… you look really pretty.” He suddenly stutters, the flame growing a little bit more. “Thank you.”

“I really want to kiss you. Really, really bad.”

His abruptness catches you off guard, and it’s almost funny how the song began to near its climax.

“I’m sorry, was that too forward? Forget I said–“

“No one’s stopping you.”

It’s so cliche how the song reached its peak when his lips are on yours. You both were young, yet your minds were older. To kiss someone at such a moment for the first time in your life only made you fall in love with him even more, and really, you never thought you’d experience it so soon. With an idol, no less.

“Kim Jongseob!”

The sound of his name makes both of you pull away and look at the door, Intak, Jiung, and Theo standing there like they’ve seen a ghost. “What the hell are you doing?!” Intak exclaims, probably more aggressive than he meant to.

You both stand there, dumbfounded, and it wasn’t until you were back in your head that you both decide to separate from each other instantly. They looked angry. They probably didn’t feel that way, but in the moment, you felt humiliated. One second later, your face is hidden in his chest again, feeling his other hand on your back.

“I’m sorry.” You mutter against him, his hand patting your back reassuringly. “No, there’s nothing for you to be sorry about.”

“Don’t you feel the slightest bit embarrassed? Your friends just walked in on us kissing.”

“Oh, I do, absolutely. They’ll never let me hear the end of it.” You look up at him, and he’s smiling. “Then why don’t you seem that way?”

“Because I was kissing you.” Your heart beats faster than it ever has before when you’re with him. “You’re the only girl they’d want to see me kiss in the first place. Lucky for you, you’re the only girl I’ll ever wanna kiss in my whole life.”

“Since when did you get so romantic?”

“Since the day I met you in this very studio.”

Your worries suddenly melt away at his words, further assured he feels the same way you do.

“I really don’t mean to interrupt this very sentimental moment, but we have practice, so can you guys hurry it up a little bit?” Intak speaks up, appearing behind Jongseob out of nowhere. You pull away, going to get your things in the corner of the room, realizing he was following you. “You’re not gonna stay?” He asks, holding onto your hand.

“I have schoolwork to do, ‘Seob. And I need to talk to my coworkers at my part-time.” He pouts. “I know there’s so much more we need to talk about, but I’m eating into your practice time right now. I’ll call you, okay? We see each other tomorrow. Promise.” You squeeze his hand, feeling his other hand on top of yours.

“I thought you already quit that job.”

“They’re still my friends. I check in with them from time to time.” He sighs. “Goodnight, Y/N.” He kisses your forehead before letting you go.

Once you’re out of sight of the doorway, you can’t help but giggle and jump around out of pure excitement. You catch sight of Keeho and Soul in the hallway, greeting them briefly. “What’s got you so excited?” Keeho asks.

“He kissed me.” You watch his expression change to match yours, jumping around with you in the middle of the hallway. “No way! Are you serious?”

“The rest of them walked in on us…”

“I’ve literally been waiting for months for him to make a move and the one time I decide to leave later– ugh, I’m so happy for both of you!”

“And then he…” You point to your forehead. “He…” Keeho puckers his lips while you nod, the both of you proceeding to squeal almost too loud in the hallway. “Girl, please, you two are literally so freaking cute, you need to tell me more!”

“I really need to leave, I’m sorry!”

“It’s okay, we’ll see you tomorrow!”

You’re on your way to the convenience store, relieved to see both Mun-Hee and Shin-Il behind the counter, both of them equally shocked to see you there. “Y/N! I thought you were working.” Shin-Il says.

“I need to tell you guys something. Can I still come back here?”

“No. But you used to work here, so whatever.” An indirect invitation to come behind the counter given by Mun-Hee. “Judging from the look on your face, you either made progress with Jongseob or made out with Jongseob.” She adds.

“I kissed him, thank you very much.”

“Oh, shit.” She curses. “And he did it first?” You nod. “Damn, girl! He’s really down bad for you!”

“Is he your boyfriend now? He should be.” Shin-Il asks. “We didn’t have time to talk about it… he’s in a dance practice right now and I promised I’d call him.”

“Honey, no. This is the kind of thing you talk about in person. If he’s really dedicated and really loves you, he’d tell you. But with the amount of times you’ve breached health protocols with something to say about him, I think he really does love you in that way. But still, call him later. You promised.”

“You give all this advice as if you’ve ever been in an actual relationship.” Shin-Il jokes, resulting in a death glare from the most helpful former coworker in the moment. “Listen to her, not me.”

“Obviously.”

The welcoming bell chimes as someone enters, coming to the counter as quick as they came in. Mun-Hee looks in awe at the person as he stops at the counter, face lighting up. “We still on for tonight?” He hands her two 5000 won bills.

“Mhm.” She says in the most obvious lovesick tone, sliding the man’s items back towards him as she gives him his change. “I’ll see you later, Mun.”

You hold back a laugh at the nickname, glancing between her and the man as he leaves the store.“Who even is that guy?”

“They’ve been hooking up but then they actually started liking each other for more than the sex. Total K-drama material.”

“She did not need to know that!”

“If she can tell us about her love life, I can tell her about yours.”

“This is something entirely different! And what about you? Does she know that your little girlfriend calls you Shinnie now?”

You can’t hold back your laughter. “Pfft– Shinnie!? You guys are so corny!”

“Don’t you call your boyfriend ‘Seob’?” Shin-Il retorts. “Okay, but that’s just his name shortened. At least she didn’t add or double anything to it.” Mun-Hee reasons, receiving an eye roll from her coworker.

“I can’t believe we’re all in relationships now.” She adds. “I can’t believe you’re in a relationship! You’re so grouchy all the time, it’s hard to believe anyone would love that. You too, Y/N! You’re only 18 and you already kissed someone.”

“You still haven’t kissed anyone at your old age?!” You exclaim.

Mun-Hee sighs. “Can you tell it’s been rough without you here?”

“Definitely.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“So does my dad approve?”

You ask as Jongseob enters your bedroom, shutting the door gently before sitting across from you on your bed. “Of course he approved, I’m Kim Jongseob.”

Your dad had to go on another trip, which was prolonged, right after his first one due to a promotion offer that was promised if he continued to work efficiently overseas for a little longer. He got the promotion. He didn’t come back until mid-2021, and you didn’t tell him about your little relationship until today.

“I bet he’s pissed at me. I swore I meant to tell him, I just forgot.”

“He isn’t. He’s just… very surprised.”

“Understandable. I may or may not have rambled to him about you.”

“Did you say anything embarrassing?”

“No.”

“Then what did you say?”

“He asked me what I loved about you. It’s a long list.”

“We have time.”

He chuckles. “Okay, well, I said I love that you’re such a hard worker, and how devoted you are to anything that you do, how you never settle for less. How there’s a sparkle in your eye only I’m able to see when you get excited. How beautiful you are when you’re at your happiest, when you’re doing something that brings you comfort. Should I keep going?”

You’re too flustered to answer his question. “What did he say?”

“‘When’s the wedding?’”

You hit him playfully, hiding your face in the side of his arm, embarrassed that your face was so warm from something so simple. “You really noticed all of those little things?”

“Of course I did, you’re my girlfriend.”

You wanted to kiss him so bad in that moment, being interrupted by your mom barging in the room. She simply stares at both of you. “You’re nearly 19, I expect you to know what we don’t wanna hear in this house.” She closes the door, Jongseob getting up to lock it this time.

“My mom’s gonna get so suspicious next time she tries to open the door.”

“Valid. But we know our boundaries, don’t we?”

You fulfill what you imagined in your head, kissing him briefly and pulling away when you feel his hand tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear.

“Wanna know something?” He mutters.

“What?”

“I don’t think I could ever love someone else the same way I love you.”

“Is that so?”

“Honey, I admire you. You’re amazing.”

“Speak for yourself, mister. So talented and famous for it. I think we’ve been keeping these words bottled up for years when we were just friends.”

“Mhm. There’s so much more I wanna say.”

“We have time.”

“It’ll take all week.”

“I have all the time in the world when I’m with you.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

🐺: guys where is jongseob

🐶: is he not at y/n’s house??

🐺: we have a shoot tomorrow why is he at y/n’s house

🐿️: the shoot is next week are u dumb

🐺: damn bro mb

☀️: they’re gonna get married someday i just know it

🍟: he wanted her ring size (о´∀`о)

🐺: why is he there anyway??

☀️: he went to meet her dad

🐿️: OKAY JONGSEOB I SEE U MEETING THE FAMILY

🐯: are you guys talking bad about me

🐶: nah we’re just thinking about what kind of ring ur gonna get her

🐯: im still 18 calm down 💀 y/n’s dad said the same thing

☀️: even mr. l/n agrees

🍟: how is y/n?

🐯: she’s good, i actually might stay over tonight

🐺: WHAT

🐶: on a weekday is crazy

☀️: why arent u coming home?

🐯: she fell asleep on me i dont wanna wake her up

🐿️: do you have clothes?

🐯: 👍

🐶: bro is prepared he predicted this

🍟: say hi to her for me!!!!

🐯: alr goodnight guys im lowkey tired

🐺: jongseob sleeping early? thats new

🐯: i hope you have nightmares

and if you’re fadin’, then honey i’ll be fadin’ too. darling, i don’t even know who i am without you. 🎧

#jongseob #p1h jongseob #jongseob x reader #kim jongseob #p1h imagines #p1harmony #p1harmony x reader #p1h soul #p1h jiung #p1h theo #p1h keeho #p1h intak #p1harmony x you

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crimsonedquill · 1 year ago

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Soft lazy morning sex headcanons (Hogwarts Legacy)

Was in the vibe for some fluffy smut HCs, so figured I might as well make this one my first for HL. Also, I changed up my usual sequence for this post to reflect the order in which I wrote them (sue me)

NSFW (18+), obviously.

Poppy Sweeting 🦡

You don’t know how she does it, getting out of bed and already having finished half of her chores by the time you wake up

That said, she doesn’t protest when you pull her back in, telling her that mornings are for sleep

Her giggles turn to soft moans when you start placing sloppy kisses on her neck and your hand sneaks down into her skirt, your fingers working her clit with an expertise that has her unravelling at your touch alone

Within moments her clothes are off and you two are back between the sheets, the sweetness of your lovemaking ridding you of any sleep still on your mind

She’s always the first to cum, her little whines stifled by your lips

You’ll lie basking in your afterglow together, and she asks how she’s ever going to get anything done when you treat her like that.

Ominis Gaunt 🐍

Sleep might be the only thing in the world he loves more than you, so you know you have some competition

Pressing soft kisses to his nape or caressing his lobe with your lips doesn’t seem to work, even though the little trembles running through his body don’t escape your notice

You know he’s awake, so you have no intention of letting him off the hook that easily

You kiss your way down, making sure to pay attention to every small birthmark and imperfection on his creamy white skin

He finally catches on when you’re past his navel, his fingers lazily tangling themselves into your hair as you close your lips around him

You don’t stop until you hear him groaning, his release betraying his awakening

He’s fully intent on returning the favour, which means it’s well afternoon by the time you’re both done. Totally worth it.

Natsai Onai 🦁

There’s nothing better than waking up holding the stark naked form of your Gryffindor goddess in your arms

You take the time to kiss each other awake before she gets up to prepare a bath for you both

Sliding into the soapy water, you could easily fall asleep all over again as you relax into her arms, her breasts cushioning your back as she starts taking care of you

She gives the best massages, tenderly washing your arms and shoulders as you feel yourself getting lighter

It never comes to that though, as her hands get to work practising that special kind of magic that has you moaning out her name within minutes

She gently works you to your climax, after which she’ll draw out the aftershocks by placing gentle kisses on your shoulders

There’s definitely no better way to start the day than Natty’s baths.

Sebastian Sallow 🐍

You know last night was good when you pick up right where you left off

He has you pinned down easily, breathing into the crook of your neck with a wanting that leaves you melting like honey into his embrace

Running his hands all over your body is something he’ll never be able to resist. He knows all the little places that make you squirm, leaving no inch of skin untouched

Whether it’s taking you in a gentle spooning position or devouring you as you ride his face, he always treats you like royalty, not allowing himself any pleasure until you’re a sweaty hot mess

By the time you both have your needs fulfilled, the sun is already up and you’re probably even more tired than before

That doesn’t stop you from cuddling until you fall asleep again. The world can wait, especially with the arms of that dreamy Slytherin boy wrapped around you.

Imelda Reyes 🐍

It’s literally physically impossible for her to sleep in. She’s always up when you awaken to a new day, either doing push-ups or stretching her ethereally fit body

You often just lie there and admire her as she works out, relishing the way her muscles move under her delightfully exposed skin

She knows that you’re ogling her and she loves it. If she’s in the mood, she’ll taunt you with some teasing remarks to reel you in

It doesn’t take long for you to bite, and within minutes you’re entangled in all kinds of special yoga exercises that have you both sweating and crying out each other’s names

You tend to end up in a heap of limbs on the floor, which doesn’t bother you in the slightest. In fact, when you feel Imelda’s lips on your naked skin again, you figure the two of you could perfectly go for a few more rounds…

Amit Thakkar 🦅

Mornings with Amit are quite peaceful. He tends to stay up late to study, so he’s often still asleep by the time you wake up

He loves it when you use your body to wake him up, softly kissing his neck while you interlock your legs with his

There is no escape from some welcome friction as your sensitive parts start rubbing together, your hearts beating as one as you hold each other close

Things quickly escalate and soon you kick off the sheets, the breeze of cool air bringing relief to your hot bodies

You love it when he comes first, trying to bring him just a little closer with your legs before you come crashing over the edge, burying yourself in his neck to stifle your moans

You’ll need some help untangling yourselves when you’ve both ridden out your highs. That’s alright; all the more an excuse to keep him in bed a little longer.

#hogwarts legacy #harry potter #poppy sweeting #ominis gaunt #natsai onai #sebastian sallow #imelda reyes #amit thakkar #poppy sweeting x reader #ominis gaunt x reader #natsai onai x reader #sebastian sallow x reader #imelda reyes x reader #amit thakkar x reader #hogwarts legacy headcanons

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queserasora · 2 months ago

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ACE X CHUBBY FEM!READER | NSFW, Soft Smut ™, Slow Burn Babeyyy WORD COUNT: 9k CONTENT WARNING: alcohol consumption (because I am sora and I am a grown woman who likes to write about alcohol), profanity (not a lot but enough), angst galore, a sprinkle of fluff because it’s cute decorations, unprotected sex (when will they learn???), groping, sloppy kisses because ace is passionate and means well but he is also eager, that being said oral female receiving with some sloppy head, nipple play, plenty of ass grabbing, biting, ace talks way too much for his own good, he is silly and just says things, and it might be embarrassing but that’s just how he is, you know i love my repeating themes so if you hate that please stay away!!, is a hurricane/storm a warning? then yes, i guess dangerous time to be partying and having sex but these are pirates, handjob, what else?, oh jealous ace is amazing, also flirty marco because i love marco sue me A SUMMARY:Ace comes aboard the Moby Dick, fire in his fists, fire in his eyes. Y/N wants to know his reason for fighting, but curiosity is a beast of a burden, and when feelings get swept up in the heat of his storm, Ace has to make a choice between reason and his heart.

I - A Disturbance : Wind & Fire

You were born in summer heat. Your mother’s arms welcomed you into her world, sticky with sweat but full to the brim with love. Her plush lips against your temple, baptize you with a kiss. You grow, not like a palm tree all spindly trunk and leafy green top, but like a wild hibiscus tree; small and closely rooted to the ground with bushy branches covered in small leaves reaching out to the horizon. Like the Hibiscus, you dance in the wind, laughter trailing behind you. In your hair, its red flower entangles in curls. The sparkling water of the beach is always warm when you swim it. Your mother grows weary of warning you about the currents, and the treacherous waves. Eventually she gives up, names you her little mermaid, and braids beads into your hair that sparkle in the sun. Despite your mother’s warnings you always find yourself there, at the cliff by the sea.

He is born in secret. He’s born because there’s nothing left. A mother’s dying wish whispered into the soft spot on his head, to a dark curl who can’t remember the words. In time, he runs as fast as his legs can carry him, through forests, creeks and mud. On the creak of the branches under his feet he tries to find that elusive promise; words he had sworn he never heard but somehow left a gaping hole. Sometimes he thinks he hears them in the howling wind. Sometimes he only feels it on the heat of his skin, when the sun is blistering hot above him. Heart torn in two, he always finds himself there, on a cliff looking out at the sea.

Like a Siren, it calls to them. On the horizon, the sun blinks as it sinks under the water, a fading beacon. The wind whips around their shoulders, tussling their hair with heated fingers. In their ears it whispers: come find me, I’ve been waiting.

You leave to the sea, as your mother always feared. She’s inconsolable at the dock. You laugh to keep from crying, and wipe away her tears with the back of a small hand. She makes you promise to look out for yourself. Don’t dive into the sea, she warns you with furrowed brows. Don’t be impulsive. Don’t head straight into storms. They forgive no one. You brush her worries aside with a kiss on her temple, before you bolt aboard the ship.

Several adventures later, you’re aboard the Whitebeard Pirates ship. You offer your knowledge and skills in medicine; pair it with a big bright smile and hope for the best. Lady Luck favors you, beckons you with curling fingers. Another nurse is just what their ship needed—at least for now. Marco takes good care of you. He is patient, and kind. He is also easy on the eyes. It doesn’t take long before you’re being saddled with responsibilities.

You try your best, thinking your experience in wound care is your strongest skill among a ship of pirates. You did not share their strength, and undying courage but you did have wit, and you have a sharp tongue. You wielded them when necessary, the edge of your words a sharp scalpel. If you throw your words out fast enough, hard enough to kick up some dust they might not call you on your bluff. Compared to them, you couldn’t help but feel like a soothing passing wind; barely noticed before you were gone, no impact, no trace left behind.

His entrance is violent, and eruptive. His presence disturbs the way of things, sending invisible critters scattering to seek refuge. You think you feel suffocating heat when you first see him. Portgas D. Ace is a forest fire at full flame, determined to devour everything, before you even noticed a spark. His eyes incinerate everything he glares at, thick brows furrowed together for so long you fear they are glued that way. Where his crew seemed agreeable even, accepting of their fates, he grew more restless by the day. You had to admire his tenacity. The sheer force of destruction his willpower possessed was alluring; dangerously seductive.

When he tries to take Whitebeard down for the 11th time, Marco is sick of it, and delegates you to the task. You swallow thickly, avoiding his gaze. You think Ace must not be a man of many words, as conversation is clipped and forced. It was just as well. The task was distracting enough. You try to remind yourself to keep your fingers moving as they brush over his skin when you apply antiseptic to gashes on his chest. He hisses, forcing your eyes up and away from the freckles you had been counting. His eye are dark pools that pull you into their depths, so deep you think they’re bottomless. In your mind, your mother’s warning echoes.

Don’t dive into the sea.

You blink, and look away, feeling heat spread across your cheek; splotches of shame kept in secret. You try to focus instead, on the gauze on your hand, the warmth of his body under your fingers when you press it against his open wounds. You look up through your lashes when you apply pressure, wondering if a day would come when he didn’t seem so closed off—so intriguingly unavailable. His jaw is set, teeth clenched so tightly all the time, you had half a mind to inspect his molars for cracks. His eyes flicker towards you and you pretend to inspect the bruise on his temple. You press a tentative finger against it, wondering if you could dip your fingertips into his thoughts that way. When he flinches, you move back to the gauze, wrap his wounds with soft bandage.

Your hands on his chest, you feel heat radiate from him, feel his heart beating steadily underneath. A heart never lied, each beat a tell tale sign. You try to listen closely to each secret told in a pulse against your palm.

Don’t be impulsive.

You were never good at listening to your mother. Your mouth was quicker than your mind; traitorous and vile.

“Why do you keep fighting, if you can’t win?” you ask him, slapping the bandages for good measure; assuring they stick, and assuring your message goes through. Ace flinches, and reaches for your wrist. His grip is strong, thick fingers wrapping around the width of your wrist. For a fleeting moment, you know you should fear him. You have seen what he’s capable of, but the heat from his hand melts away all preconceived notions.

“Sometimes,” he says blinking down at you. His brows are furrowed together—they always are. You see his adam’s apple bob up and down as he swallows. His thumb brushes once against the inside of your wrist. You think you hear a call—someone shouting from the sea. “Sometimes, you fight anyway. If it means protecting people you care about.” He lets you go, and you instinctively pull back, bringing your arm to your chest. He watches you fuss over your wrist momentarily before closing his eyes. He looks pained, and before you can offer him painkillers he’s speaking again: “Maybe it’s all I know how to do.”

II – The Depression : A Flickering Flame

He didn’t mind at first, but now it felt like he shouldn’t be there.

He shouldn’t be sitting on the edge of the thin mattress of the nurses station. He shouldn’t stand still when your short fingers tentatively palpated his injuries. He shouldn’t watch you, like a seagull over water, searching—praying, as your teeth sank into the plushness of your bottom lip.

There was so much he should and shouldn’t do, he no longer could keep it together. Ignoring you seemed like the right decision. It should have been easy. You were the enemy, if he wanted to be fastidious about it. A member of the Whitebeards Pirate was just someone else standing in the way of his goal. Most of all, his pride couldn’t stand it. It couldn’t stand the disappointed look in your dark eyes, and the way your mouth would twist into a little smirk when he would walk in. It couldn’t stand the way you would immediately retract from him at the slightest hint of discomfort, how you would look at him like he was a wounded bird, wings teared at the joints, unable to fly again, sentenced to death.

It was pride that kept his mouth sealed shut. It was pride that stapled his tongue to the roof of his mouth. He wished pride would leave him blind instead. He wished to not notice how soft your hands are, how small and cute your hands were against his chest. He wished to not notice how he becomes disgustingly interested in your short chubby fingers, and wonders what kind of reaction he’d get if he could nibble on one or two. He wished to not notice how obsessive his thoughts are over the appearance of your skin; golden, and glowing on the apples of your cheek—how soft they looked. He wished he didn’t think about it at night, when darkness wrapped her arms around him tightly. He wished he didn’t think about your lashes, the look you give him through them that fills his mind with smoke.

Racing thoughts, and a racing mind. It took everything in him to keep them quiet. Your voice is soft when you speak, and his lips part, a beating heart trying to scream but no sound comes out. His cheeks feel hot, and he swallows awkward conversation prompts down. He chooses, instead, to fix his thoughts on something else, something more urgent: like how to defeat Whitebeard.

He simply couldn’t afford to dawdle with you. Ace never thought twice on taking on a challenge, but you were a chasm he couldn’t bring himself to jump across. If he missed, the fall could be deadly. He blinks when you speak again, your eyes fixated on his face. Ace quirks his left brow, and thinks he’s offended you. He wants to speak quickly, heart beating against the sinew and bone keeping it prisoner, but the words tangle in his throat.

The door creaks open, and Marco walks in. You look away from Ace and smile at Marco, before forcing two round white pills into the crook of Ace’s palm.

“Make sure you take those,” you tell him, as you force his fist closed. “You hit your head pretty good.” You reach up to rap your knuckles against the side of Ace’s head lightly. “Gotta try to save whatever brain cell’s are left fighting for their lives in there.”

Marco laughs as you stand up. Ace hears you chuckling lightly, as it grows into laughter. He takes a sharp breath through an open mouth, watches you as you turn to look at him over a shoulder.

He wishes pride would hurry the fuck up and blind him. He wishes it so bad, he crushes the pills in his fist into dust.

The sight of your ass stretching the nurse’s uniform fills him with a heat he’s not very familiar with. It settles at the pit of his stomach, and he stares at the door even after you leave. It isn’t until Marco speaks that he brings himself back to the present.

“Why don’t you join, Ace?” Marco asks, as he settles on the stool you were sitting on moments prior. Ace frowns down at it, annoyed at his thoughts—he wondered if it was still warm, and he hated that Marco would know the answer. “You know, it’s not a bad deal. He treats us like his sons. We’re all a little lost out here, kid. You don’t have to be alone.”

Ace scoffs, mouth twisted into a crooked smile. He tilts his head as he watches Marco, trying to swallow the bitterness in the back of his mouth. His heart lurches, and he shuts his eyes. If he closes them tightly enough, perhaps the hopeless dream will go away. He never had a father figure, and never needed one. It was a lie he recited at night; a prayer to a faceless God.

“I don’t need a father,” he mumbles at last, picking at a string on one leg of his shorts. Marco laughs. Ace looks up, frown back in place.

“Maybe, maybe not,” Marco agrees, reaching up to rub the back of his head. “But why don’t you try? What do you got to lose? It’s not like you have any manners.” Ace begins to protest but Marco’s laughter caught him off again. “And you might learn how to properly talk to a lady.”

Ace thinks his head might start catching fire. He pats his hair quickly.

“I don’t need any help with that!” he says loudly, an elbow digging into a thigh as he leans forward to scowl at Marco.

“Oh, yeah?” Marco says trying to keep his laughter at bay. His smile is crooked, and insufferable. “Is that why you looked like a fish gaping for air when I walked in? Very convincing.”

Just when Ace thinks there is no way he could be more embarrassed, he feels his blush deepening, freckles almost obfuscated. He promises Marco to think about it, and he does his best, but thoughts of you plague him afterward. Your laughter that carried in the wind to him, the way it felt like it sank into his scars, the way it burned and made new ones in return.

III – A Simmering Storm

The needle on his back, sinks into his skin time and time again, embedding ink to stay forever. It is liberating, in a sense, marking himself with a brand of his own choosing. So much unlike the one stamped upon him at the time of his birth; the son of a monster, a nuisance, someone not worthy of the space they took up in the world. No longer did he have to search for reason, or an excuse. Ace could simply be, and he welcomed his newfound drop of happiness with a toothy grin.

A celebration at him joining the ranks, and being able to be commander of the second division seemed a bit over the top but he liked merriment—and the food and alcohol was too enticing. The darkening clouds in the distance threatened to dampen his mood, and the crowd on the deck of Moby Dick. Murmurs spread the word of an oncoming storm but nobody seems particularly worried. The only thing on their mind is how fast they could drink and eat before they got rained out.

The only thing on your mind was the blooming ache in your chest. You try to soothe it with a hand, smearing your palm against your voluminous chest. The crop top is soft under your skin. You try to memorize this, instead of the radiant smile on Ace’s face. He had never seemed so undoubtedly happy as he did now. A different feeling settled between your ribs, a pang so bitter it causes you to hiss. Jealousy was a monster you squashed down with angry fists every time you saw one of the nurses place a hand on Ace’s bicep. You never thought you would have to beat it down into submission while picturing the face of your own captain.

You’re happy for him, truly. You mutter to yourself, over and over, drink after drink. You’re elated, even, that he has finally come to accept the bright side of things. You’re happy that he has been given a position that you feel is well earned, one that you hope he can excel at.

You’re happy for him. You really are.

You’re so fucking happy it hurts to breathe. You force another deep breath into your lungs, the air is humid and the scent of rain floods your senses. You blink back the wetness in your eyes, and when Marco asks if you are okay you blame pollen. Marco tilts his head, but chooses not to pursue the subject. Instead, he swaps your empty cup with his. You barely notice. You’re too busy thinking about where the sea will take Ace next.

Something in your chest seizes—panic, or fear. It rises like heat from the ground, a crackling electricity flying up through the stale air that keeps you trapped on the ground. You try not to move too much, you fear jostling your thoughts, fear that if they move too much—touch a certain way, sparks would fly, singing you to a crisp; charred and useless.

He is happy, truly.

It wasn’t something he could have ever dreamed of or imagined. He smiles as people congratulate him. Alcohol tastes sweet on his heavy tongue. He barely tastes his food as he pummels it into his mouth. He pictures what it would be like, sailing away from this ship, to complete tasks he would be responsible for. He pictures what it would be like to tend to his own wounds, what it would be like to sit at whatever island he found, and not hear your laugh.

He is happy. He really is.

He’s so fucking happy, he thinks he feels sick. It’s not anxiety. Ace could never admit that. Anxiety over what? He did not fear death. He never had a good reason for living anyway. You could only fear death if you were bound to the living. Then what was binding him to this ship? It felt like a vortex, a cone ensnaring him and trapping him to his spot; a gust of wind that kept bringing him back to you, no matter how many times he moved around this damned ship.

He tries moving again, taking his mug of beer with him. You bump into him with your ass against his. He turns around, ready to pick a fight but sees your heated cheeks instead. You mumble an apology that he laughs off. His hand moves before he controls it, and he ruffles your hair—something he knows you loathe.

“I’m not a puppy,” you hiss, pursing your lips. Ace drinks quickly from his mug, to refrain from sighing.

“Then why do you look like one?” he asks you, and leaves through the crowd. You lose track of him quickly, and decide to stomp around on the spot. It was easier than to think about the way he had looked at you, and how it had set your face on fire.

You do your best to mingle. You notice he does the same, but you’re never far from each other. It feels comical in a strangely annoyingly tragic way. When you squeeze between Thatch and Izou to refill your cup, your hand brushes against something warm. You follow the hand to see Ace’s tattooed bicep. When your eyes meet, thunder splits the sky. You move quickly, wordlessly, determined not to see his face against for the rest of the night.

The sea has other plans. The ship begins to move more than usual, and your legs still not quite so strong, threaten to have you rolling over. You blame the alcohol of course, when you land on Izou’s back. He steadies you with a tight smile as you giggle, and spins you in place trying to send you in the opposite direction but your eyes meet Ace’s again. The ship lurches, and you stumble forward. His body is warm, and inviting, you giggle at the ridiculous situation—as people continue to bump into each other mid-party. You try to move again, but your legs betray you. His arms hold you up, and brings you closer to him. Your body is soft against his, plush and delightful. You look up at him with a tiny small, eyes hazy from the alcohol, and Ace swears he hears the sky split open.

You’re on your way again before he can say anything else. It was probably for the best. He loses track of how much he drinks. He could still feel his face, could still keep track of his thoughts—filled to the brim with you, and concludes he clearly hasn’t drunk enough. He holds on to this as he grips the railing so tight, it cracks under his fingers at the sight of you with Marco.

Marco was so kind, and so friendly. His hands were soft around your waist. You know it was shameful, to giggle at all his silly little jokes, but the alcohol has you feeling weightless—for once. You almost don’t feel the wind against your cheeks, you don’t feel it whipping your hair around. You let Marco pull you closer, his hand pressed against the small of your back. It was better this way. It was better Marco than a ship sailing to a destination unknown.

He drops the mug of beer. It splashes on the deck, and he feels liquid splash against his knee. Ace clenches a fist as he moves, fire erupting from his knuckles before it swallows his hand whole. Drops from the sky grow heavier. They sizzle as they reach his wrist, little wispy vapor rising from the flames like warning flags. Ace breathes through his nose and wills himself to smother the flames. They die out by the time he reaches you, but there’s a fire in his chest, flames behind his eyes he can’t control.

The sight of Marco’s hand very comfortable in the small of your back almost threatens to set him on fire again. Marco’s mouth is so close to your ear, Ace thinks he must smell the lotion off your skin the same way he smelled it off you so many times before; the one that always drove him mad, who forced him to imagine tropical islands, to dream of coconuts and beaches, of you and sandy dunes. Your smile takes his breath away, and when he sees it’s aimed at Marco it fills his lungs with lead instead. Your lashes flutter, and Ace sees a drop of water fall and cling to the apple of one your cheeks. He follows its path until it rolls off from your jaw.

As the last rays of light glints on the surface of it, a spark goes off.

His hand is around your wrist. Marco moves away slightly, only pulling away to look at Ace with a quizzical expression. His smile is frozen in place as he tries to assess the situation. He laughs, and naturally Ace feels like he should punch him in the mouth for it. Marco looks over to you, to pull a response from you when he begins to talk but your eyes are nowhere near on him. You are too focused on Ace’s face instead.

You zone in on the arch of his left eyebrow, the narrowing of his dark eyes, the slight curl of his top lip. Rain starts pouring down. You watch rivulets of water streak down the side of his face. You try to breathe as he watches you, try not to think about his fingers wrapped around your wrist but you can’t stop yourself from wanting to know. You want to know what it means. You want to decipher that look in his eyes, the dark clouds forming, the way you think you see lightning.

Your mother’s words ring one more time. Don’t head straight into storms.

A gust sweeps you off your feet, a dream so airy and full of promises you think you can fall forever if it meant he’d look at you this way for another breath, and another.

IV – The Hurricane

It wasn’t enough.

He could consume every drop of alcohol aboard the Moby Dick, pour into his mouth ounce after ounce like his life depended on it, and it still wouldn’t be enough.

There’s nothing, not a sobering thought, not the lightning in the sky, not the dark clouds in the distance, that could free him from the hold you have on him. Your eyes are so big and round you remind him of the softness he hated in himself, the same he tried to strangle with his own hands. In you, it only made him want to kiss you. Right there. Right now. Ace swallows down the last of his apprehensions. He tightens his grip around your wrist, and thinks everyone and everything could go to hell and stay there. If he caused a scene by dragging you away, he simply did not care.

Nature had other plans. The wind picks up, the sea fights back. Waves rise, and rock the Moby Dick—a feat that’s not as easy as it sounds. Marco gives you one last look before he scrambles away, shouting orders to the crew. They desperately climb to close the sails, but you can’t finish watching them work. Ace drags you away from the deck, down a path you’re ashamed to be familiar with.

In his room, he finally lets you go and you stumble forward with momentum. You hear the door close, and a lock click. You spin around belatedly, trying to keep your arms from swinging too much and losing your balance to see Ace’s back pressed against the door.

He watches you from where he stood, hair soaked through. His raven curls are slicked against his forehead, so he runs a large hand through his hair, pushing it back and away from his face. He can’t be bothered to find his hair a nuisance. Not when you’re standing in front of him, wet from head to toe. You’re out of your nurses’ uniform, something he is not used to seeing. Your hair is lose and partially wet, wavy tendrils sticking to your cheeks and shoulders. Your round face looks precious, he swallows as he fights the urge to cradle it in his hands. Your wide eyed expression forces a chuckle out of him, one he tries to hide on the back of one hand.

He notices belatedly, and with a little remorse, the slight blue tint on your bottom lip and the redness on your cheeks. Your eyes are hazy, heavy lidded, and he tilts his head at you, dopey smile on his face.

“You were having fun,” he mentions, eyes trailing away from your cheeks to your torso, the dips on your sides that make your waist. The soft rolls that settle there make him want to touch you. He raps his knuckles on the door behind him instead, fingers tapping without rhythm; anything, and everything to keep himself controlled, especially at the sight of your wide hips, the thickness of your thighs.

“Yeah, I was actually,” you finally find your voice to speak. You swallow with difficulty, slapping a hand against a thigh, over your wet jeans. “Anyway,” you mumble, pinching the bridge of your nose. You should stay focused. You do your best, but the sight of Ace’s bare chest reminds you of how warm he is and how frigid your fingers currently are. You’d love to warm them up right now, skim them over his toned abs. “Why did you do it?”

“Do what?” he asks you quietly.

“Drag me here. Can’t you see?” you start, licking your lips, feeling very very parched when you follow the small trail of hair beginning at the bottom of Ace’s belly button, and disappearing underneath his shorts. “I have working legs!” You make a show of lifting each one, one at a time, and pointing obnoxiously. “See? Perfectly healthy.”

“Yeah,” he agrees, pushing away from the door. He walks slowly towards you, steps hesitant and careful. His eyes roam over your body. You watch him drag his gaze from the top of your head, to your feet, and back up again at an excruciatingly slow pace. Your heart accelerates, and it thunders in your ears. “You’re perfectly healthy,” his voices comes in softer now that he’s standing in front of you. “I can see that.” Ace hands wrap around the roundness of your shoulders. He slides them down slowly from the short sleeves of your crop top, thick callused fingers skimming along the back of your plush and soft biceps. Your skin is soft, tantalizing. It feels as if he shouldn’t touch you. It feels sinful, something he has no privilege to but he continues anyway, down to your wrists until his fingers grip yours gently. Ace tightens his hold on your hands and pulls you closer to him.

He wraps your arms around his waist. You don’t fight him. You move; a leaf carried in the wind. Your fingers grip around his belt loops, as he dips his face to the crook of your neck. His hot breath fans against your skin, when he drops the softest kiss—his lips, or the wind, you’re not sure. He nuzzles the exposed skin, using his nose to move the neckline of your crop top as much as he can to drop more soft kisses. You’re colder than he expected, so he holds you tighter, until your softness fills all his hard edges and gaps. Your curves are a pleasant surprise. He had expected some of it from the way you filled the skirt of your uniform but seeing you out of it had been a vision he shouldn’t be worthy of.

He shouldn’t be worthy of any of it. He shouldn’t enjoy the way your hips feel under his hands, but he still runs them over them up and down, over and over again. He shouldn’t enjoy their width, the way the flesh caves under his grip, how his fingers dig deep and it still isn’t enough to touch all of you. He shouldn’t enjoy the way your skin feels so impossibly soft against his lips, as if it melts under his heat; snow under a sunny sky. He shouldn’t enjoy the scent of your skin, the scent of your lotion that brings him to the brink of madness. He shouldn’t enjoy the way you sigh his name when he sucks on your pulse, and grabs your ass. He shouldn’t tell you the way he thinks no matter how much alcohol swims in his veins. He shouldn’t tell you the way he feels, but words bubble up his throat and out his mouth—a freshwater brook whose source he can’t define.

“You feel so good,” he moans against your ear, when he pushes his hips forward. Your eyes flutter at the feel of his erection against the softness of your belly. “I love touching you, Mermaid.” The nickname usually bothers you; given in passing because you loved swimming in the sea despite the dangers, but from his lips it feels like a spoken song; a poem only for you. “You smell so good,” he licks the shell of your ear, bites on the sensitive cartilage on top. You gasp, and dig your nails into his back, desperately holding on to whatever was left of your self preservation. “Do you know how sick I was?” He thinks he should punish you, and so he does, nipping at the sensitive skin of your neck. You yelp, and slap his back but it doesn’t deter him. He smiles against your skin, licks the blooming bruise with a flat and sloppy tongue. “When Marco’s hands were all over you. I thought I was going to burn. I couldn’t stand it. I couldn’t stand a second of it.”

His words sound desperate. You try to stay present by drawings circles on his back with your fingertips. The storm screams outside the room. You hear the wind pick up its shrill song, tinny and distant. Water pelts against the small circular window on the door, a drumming sound that soon grows deafening.

“Ace,” you try to interrupt his rambling, but his hands are tangled in your hair. His lips brush against your temple, before he speaks against your head.

“I felt sick watching you. It felt like I was in pain,” he groans into your hair. His hips press against you again. You bite down on your lip hard enough to inflict pain. You rub circles on his back, and force yourself to focus once more. His words come in belatedly, sound traveling a long distance in the air. You press your small hands against his chest.

“Where does it hurt?” you ask him, brows furrowing together. Leave it to Ace, to be injured in a moment like this. You shake your head, not sure to trust yourself or his words. You should have drank less. You should have stayed away from Ace. You should have left with Marco instead. Ace presses his forehead against yours. His breath tickles your nose. He moves his hand over yours. His fingers clutches your hand, and warmth seeps from him to you. You feel it sink it, seep into the rest of your arm and down to your elbow leaving a tingling sensation.

“Here,” he breathes out in a whisper. He squeezes your hand, presses it closer to his chest. “In here.” He pats your hand once, and again, repeatedly in a rhythm that matches his heart beating under your palm. Ace moves slowly, and gently brushes his nose against yours. His heart beats faster under your hand. Your eyes are tethered to his mouth. You can’t look away from the sight of his lips parting, as if he couldn’t catch his breath. You feel your mouth do the same, feel the air in your lungs run out; breathing is not enough, nothing is enough. His head tilts, and you follow his lead; reflections on still water.

“Idiot,” you finally whisper, a breathy laugh bouncing away from your mouth. He feels it reach his lips, and he swallows it whole in his mouth. “You mean your heart?”

“Yeah,” he admits fighting a smile, his lips brushing against yours. “My heart.”

You should laugh it off. You shouldn’t take him seriously. A drunken confession would be forgotten the moment the sun rose again but there is a screaming in the back of her mind—distant and ancient like Sirens on rocky shores. The storm grows louder outside. You had always thought you were a serene passing wind, something to soothe and lick old wounds better; something to be forgotten once you left, but the heat of Ace’s breath against your mouth, spun around you in circles. It transformed you into something bigger than you thought you could be. You wanted to be bigger. You wanted to be something destructive, something that would tear him from limb to limb, leave him with the wreckage of your path so he could have something to remember you by when he was gone.

You reach out, hands seeking a target. You clasp his face as you smash your mouth against his. He hums into the kiss. It’s clumsy and forceful. You leave him no room to push back, no gap to slip his tongue past your defenses. It isn’t until he is grabbing fistfuls of your ass to pull you closer to him, to rub his bulge against your belly once more that you concede. You gasp, and it’s the only weakness he needs to exploit. His tongue strokes against yours, hunger forcing him to be overzealous. He is sloppy, and imprecise, kisses so wet saliva coats your lips, making them shiny under the yellow sconce’s lights of the room. Ace knows he should slow down, show a little finesse but your ass feels divine in his hands. He had been watching it the whole time during the party, watched you saunter back and forth, hips swaying; teasing him.

He moves against you, and you step backwards, the ship swaying enough to make you forget your route. You land against the wall with a thud, your plush ass making you bounce slightly in Ace’s embrace. He laughs against your mouth, nipping at your bottom lip. “Nice,” he mumbles before he takes your bottom lip for a long and noisy suck. “It’s like a safeguard.”

You groan, hands traveling down the wideness of his back, and over his shorts. They settle over his ass, and you return the favor, digging your fingers into the muscle. He groans loudly, pushes his hips immediately against yours and grinds against your lower belly. The smell of wine on your mouth threatens to intoxicate him further. He closes his eyes as he pushes against you, feeling precum starting to soak through his underwear. Your tongue feels perfect in his mouth. He sucks on it time and time again, taken in by the sheer softness of it. How it doesn’t feel unfamiliar at all, as if he had kissed you thousands of times before.

He wished he had kissed you that many times already. He wished he could tuck away those memories somewhere no one could take them away from him.

Every time he kisses you, it feels like dying, and it feels like coming back to life. You’ve died hundreds of times already, hundreds of little deaths by his hands and by every stroke of his tongue. You think you smell smoke in his hair when he holds you close, when he whispers sweet things in your ear before biting down your neck, leaving a trail of bruises in his wake. His hands are weapons he uses to tear your down. Their heat eviscerates all your defenses. It kills you how they feel so hot, even over your clothes. How when he drags his palms over your belly, you want to feel them lower, towards the center of your legs. Your belly is soft, and pliable, he squeezes and kneads until he memorizes it. His hands move to your sides, where he grips the soft flesh, the rolls that are tender in his hold.

Your cheeks color, and your heart flutters. Embarrassed, you swat his hands, and move them away from your waist.

“Don’t push my hands away,” he says annoyed, going back to grab your sides. “Before I–”

You cut him off with a kiss, pressing your mouth hotly against his. You wrap your arms around his neck. “Shut up,” you say breaking the kiss. You kiss the corner of his mouth, and up his jawline. “If you say it—I’ll leave.” You press your mouth against his pulse, and a soft spot behind his head. “I’ll walk out right now. Don’t even say it.”

He kisses you, and you crumple under the weight of it. It feels like a last desperate attempt at silencing you, at keeping you here with him. His heart is in tatters. He tries to ignore the debris of it, the way it splinters off into pieces. Ace deepens his kisses, crushes you against his chest, and traps you tightly between him and the wall. He knows the truth. He knows the more he kisses you, the more he’ll discover all the things he wondered about you, the more he’ll become familiar with your softness—the more he’ll miss you. A feeling of unworthiness crawls out of a well. He tries to smother it with another kiss, one you moan into. You bring a leg up and he holds on to it, hooks it around a hip and pushes against you, his cock feeling painfully hard. He thrusts his hips, and he tries to forget every touch of your fingers on his back, how your trail them along his muscles, leaving memories in them he could never forget, memories you shouldn’t give him so willingly.

He should be the one to walk out without a further word. If it hurt you, it would mean you’d never look at him again. That was the right thing to do. He should let you go immediately. He should stop craving the heat of your body. He should stop pushing against you, and moaning into the crook of your neck, giving into every desire and fantasy that had filled his body since he met you.

He should. But he couldn’t stop himself from being selfish. Just this once. For once, he wants to seize a semblance of happiness by his own hands without needing a reason for it—without needing a reason to simply exist.

Ace brings you to his bed, pushes you down until you’re seated on the edge of his mattress. He kneels before you. You blink, mouth surprisingly dry considering all the wet sloppy kisses Ace had been giving you. You lick your swollen lips, and think you taste beer in the corner of your mouth; residual of Ace’s conquest. Ace kisses your cheeks—one at a time. He reaches around you to the bow holding your crop top together. He unties it easily, and just as easily pulls it over your head. You don’t know where it lands, and it honestly doesn’t matter. The only thing that matters is the way Ace’s eyes land on your breasts, the way he licks his lips as if he’s gearing up for a feast.

He wasn’t expecting you to not a have a bra, but he couldn’t complain either way. Once again, he is amazed at his sheer stupidity. How he had never noticed the size of your breasts, how large they were and how beautifully they hanged from your frame. He swallows thickly, wishing he had done this sooner. He presses his mouth against the middle of your chest, hands tentatively taking in the weight of your breasts. He palms them gently, cupping and lifting as he moves his fingers. His intentions are well meant. Ace would love to take his time with you, but you react so deliciously when he flicks his thumbs over your hardened nipples, mewling against the top of his head that he felt like he had no choice.

If his hand felt like furnaces, his mouth is incomparably vicious. The heat of his tongue is paralyzing. When he sucks on a nipple, his free hand twisting the other one between thumb and index finger, your toes curl. Your panties cling to your folds, covered in your slick since earlier. You whimper, embarrassed and aroused as Ace continues his streamlined assault. His teeth leave marks over the swell of your breasts. You respond to every lick and nibble he gives. Your soft moans leave goosebumps on his skin, reminding him that this is him making you moan, him who has you scraping your nails against his scalp.

He shouldn't—but he smiles—thinking Marco can go kick rocks. He bites down on a nipple, a bit too hard, at the thought. He should mark you more, lest anyone get any ideas.

And like that, his heart aches. Ace sighs against the side of your breast, licks over a bruise in apology. He shakes his head, trying to dislodge thoughts that had no business polluting his mind. He wonders what would happen if he leaves you for too long. Would you move on? His fingers stumble to unbutton your jeans so he tries again. Of course, you would. Who wouldn’t? Marco seems to like you, and what’s not to like about Marco?

Desperate, he finally unhooks the button. You fall back on the mattress with a surprised squeak when he pushes you. Ace tugs your jeans off. You see him standing between your legs, as he unbuckles his belt, and drops his shorts. You hear the thud on the ground, the creak of the mattress as he joins you.

He cages you in, and you immediately reach out. Your fingers splay against his broad chest. His shoulders are wide, and strong, muscles rippling with every movement he makes. The yellow lighting of the sconces compliment the golden tone of his skin. You bite your lip, and rub your legs together, deeply aroused when you brush your fingertips against his muscular abs. Lightning strikes, and bathes him in a flashing white light. You see for a moment, every freckle on his shoulder, and chest. You run your fingers over them, connecting the dots, making up little galaxies on his chest and shoulders and committing them to memory. You’d remember these later, on lonely nights, and hold your hand to the ceiling, pretending that if you trace over the memory of them you could bring Ace back to you like a spell; like a wish.

His kisses scatter your thoughts, little stars clouding your vision. His mouth is on your neck, and on your chest. Heated, and wet. He leaves hot wet trails of saliva wherever he goes, coating you with his smell. He kisses your belly, and nibbles on the soft flesh underneath your belly button. His fingers dancing over your thighs. Ace moves lower as you hum, parts your legs to drop kisses on the inside of your thighs. For a split second, you consider being embarrassed at the state of your arousal but you are past the point of caring. Soaked right through your panties, all you want is for Ace to keep kissing you.

He smells you before he sees it—before he sees the big wet spot in your underwear. Ace chuckles, and you reach out to swat at his head but he is faster than you—as usual. He grabs your wrist and kisses the inside of your palm.

“Don’t be like that, Mermaid,” he says in a good mood, smile wide and crooked. He looks up at you through black lashes, a faint flush over his cheeks. “I know how much you love being wet.”

You think about screaming, and beating him senseless for saying something so embarrassing but when he pulls your panties down in one quick move you are left speechless. Just as quickly, his mouth is on your pussy. He gives long, meticulous licks; ones he uses to slurp up every drop of your arousal. He uses his fingers to part your folds, and traces your slit with the flat of his tongue. Your back arches, and you moan loudly, hands flying to tangle in his black curls. He is noisy, but he does not miss a spot. He slurps up a lip, sucks on it gently. He flicks his tongue around your sensitive nub, making you shiver and tremble.

Just when you think you can’t take the heat of his mouth any longer, Ace pulls your lips apart again, and slips his tongue inside your aching pussy. He thrusts it in and out, upping the pace the more you moan. He slurps up, wet and noisy to suck on your clit. His fingers tease your entrance before he slips two inside you. He scissors his fingers inside, the squelching so loud and lewd, you’re forced to slap a hand to cover your mouth. It is sinful, and you wonder if you should worry when you grow hornier the louder the wet sounds get. He curves his fingers, seeking out that spot that makes your toes curl. His moans against your clit as he sucks vibrates against you, and you cry out as you cum. Your pussy flutters around his fingers as you reach your peak, little tremors running their course throughout your body.

The way you look so disheveled makes him want to stay down there longer. He’d love nothing more than to feast on your pussy all night long, but his throbbing cock is becoming increasingly harder to ignore. He moves to climb over you, but the ship tilts when a particularly large wave comes. Ace sways, but you reach out to grab him by the arm before he rolls off the bed. You pull him towards you, and laugh at Ace’s shocked expression. He laughs with you for a moment, before it dies out. Your eyes captivate him—their sparkle too bright to be dimmed by the yellow lighting of the room, or even by the darkness of the storm outside the room. Ace kisses your cheek, and licks your ear. He laughs into your hair when you yelp, and hit his shoulder with a tiny fist, your own laughter overtaking his.

“Your laughs always carries so easily,” he says quietly, a hand brushing hair away from your face. You wrinkle your nose up at him. “You know that? I always hear you wherever I go.”

There’s a breath that refuses to come back to you. It stays there behind Ace’s smile. You swallow, following the path of his trail of dark hair that starts at his belly button. You grip the tip of his cock gently, and watch his brows knit together, teeth clenching to keep from moaning. You brush a thumb against his slit. His lips part, eyes fluttering close, and as you squeeze your hand down his shaft, he lets go; a moan flying past the front of his teeth. He is thick in your hands. You move them gently at first, taking in the sight of him above you. His dark hair spilled around him like a curtain.

His eyes that he fights so hard to keep open but flutter close every time you squeeze his pink tip just right. He cusses under his breath, upset he can’t watch you jerk him off, how he can’t keep the sight of your white teeth sinking into your berry colored bottom lip in his vision.

You are mesmerized by the sight of him. You try your best to commit to memory the planes of his face, the sharpness of his jawline. You rub your legs together as you stroke, enjoying the way your slick slides down your thighs. You love how vulnerable he looks, how soft his expressions is as he gives in to you, his dark lashes that flutter open and close, the freckles on the bridge of his nose; everything leaves their residue behind like sticky fingers on glass.

You feel his hand swat yours away from his cock. “Stop,” he whines in a hiss, eyes opening partially. He frowns down at you, cheeks bright red, mouth hanging open. “I don’t want to cum like that. I want to cum inside you. With you.” There’s no time to think, you feel him shift your legs, and feel the tip of his cock pressing against your entrance. He pushes inside you, slowly, inch by inch. Your mouth drops open, a sound that refuses to leave your body. When he bottoms out, you moan gently, wrapping your arms around his shoulders.

Your thighs are thick and plush as they tighten around his strong hips. Ace feels as he would be swallowed whole—like a small vessel in a raging sea. If you wanted to drown him, he’d let you, if that’s what you really wanted. He grunts with every slow thrust of his hips, wanting to feel you first, let you adjust around him. He’s only begun, but he feels you fluttering around his cock, senses the tightening of your grasp around his shoulders.

He picks up the pace, as the storm rages. You’re panting against his hear, so loud that even the thunder can’t drown you out when you moan. Lightning splits the sky, over and over, bathing your sweaty body underneath him in bright white. He tries to remember the pieces of you, the soft breasts pressed against his chest, the sight of his cock disappearing into your soaking pussy. He tries to remember the sound of the rain, how it compliments your voice when you sigh into his neck. He pushes against you faster, deeper, your moans grow closer and louder. The scent of rain and wet wood floods the room along with the scent of your arousal. Ace can almost taste it on his tongue all over again, as he breathes through his mouth, panting loudly—moaning when you clench around his cock again.

His cologne makes you delirious—mahogany, and sweet blossoms, or it’s the thickness of his cock or both. You bite his neck, scream into the crook of his neck when he picks you up slightly by the hips, when he angles his thrusts and slaps his hips against yours viciously enough to bruise. His cock pushes against your gummy walls, stretching you out until it’s almost painful. He is so hot and warm inside you, you feel like you’re melting, as if your body is built by nothing but pleasure and pleasure alone. You bite his shoulders, leaving marks behind. Your attack is as relentless as his thrusts. You continue to sink your teeth into his shoulders, and his neck, you nibble at his jawline.

He loves it. He loves the pain you leave behind. Ace digs his fingers into your hair, and he tilts his neck to give you more access—anything to keep you going. He groans with every thrust into your pussy, his heavy balls slapping against your thick and plush ass so noisily he worries for a second someone might hear.

“Go ahead,” he whispers to you when you nibble on his neck once more, groaning right after. “Make it hurt.” It is a fitting punishment, he thinks. Pain always left the deepest scars. If it was you, he’d take the scars with him.

The wind picks up more, the shrill tinny scream rises, banging against the round window on his door. It pounds at the glass, demanding tribute. Ace cries out when your pussy clenches around his cock, his body tensing before it relaxes at his climax. He releases, spilling into you, hot cum that oozes slightly out of your cunt. You stay tangled with him in his bed sheets, lightning coloring your bodies in bright white every now and then. Heat envelops the room, a humidity so thick it feels suffocating; muggy. Your bodies covered in sweat, are slippery, almost uncomfortable but you don’t care.

You don’t care about the incessant heat beaming off his body, you don’t care how his hair sticks to your skin when he nuzzles in your neck, you don’t care bout the storm outside the door, the angry sea. You bring your hand to Ace’s chest, feel his heart thumping against your palm. What you care about is there, under skin and bone, just out of reach.

You shut your eyes when he kisses your lips, when he holds your face in his hands.

Your mother’s words cut through the screams of the hurricane outside. Don’t head straight into storms. They forgive no one.

But who was the storm? Was it him? Was it you? Who’s to forgive if there’s no one left in the wake of the storm?

#ace x reader #ace x you #ace x y/n #one piece x y/n #one piece x you #one piece x reader

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healer-pop · 6 months ago

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U know what I been thinking abt.....an aphrodisiac fic. I've got it all written out in my head, reader and Sloane are out camping. They are having a good day, set up camp and while gathering wood reader gets poofed in the face by a flower (sporess ooo). Sloane laughs their ass off, and reader is a little peeved getting spores all over themself.

Fast forward, dinner is being cooked and reader starts to feel weird. Hot, high, and really bothered!! They go into the tent to hide, and Sloane knocks on it saying dinners ready. Reader never comes out tho and Sloane goes in to see them sweating, hot and almost sick looking. Sloane tries to tend to them, a wet rag and asking what's wrong are they sick?? The second Sloane touches reader tho...they mewl. Almost a whine that creeps out of the back of their throat. Super sexy sounding. Sloane chooses to ignore it because they think reader is sick... it's just them being sick.. yes obviously.

Maybe Sloane helps them sit up to drink some water and the touch has reader grasping onto their leg HARD. Readers panting like a dog and got them bedroom eyes...

Was toying with the idea of Sloane and reader being best friends everrr with some huge unresolved romantic feelings. This is just the dam that breaks it all open. Obv all consent is given and gotten, and I think it was actually well talked out. Reader reassures Sloane they've wanted this for so long, but if they said no that they could forget it ever happened. I'm crazy insane I'm shaking the bars of my cage.

Googling, “can I sue the anon that wrote the hottest, absolutely most well thought out, mentally damaging fic in my inbox for emotional reparation?”

LIKE HOW DO U DROP THIS AND NOT EXPECT ME TO FROTH AT THE MOUTH???? Anon, I don’t know how you knew that sex pollen fics have always been my favorite but I do blame you for the fact that this kept me up last night!!!! mainly because this is so spot on and also why I don’t really get together fix with Venture, especially with my flowery writing, lengthy ass. That shit would be like 20K before you guys even touched. To me, Sloane is not the one to make a first move. And if you aren’t either, it’s just never gonna happen. Once you’ve actually gotten established, they’re super touchy and able to respect your boundaries, but before? They are wayyyyy too nervous, their biggest one being that they’re just overthinking your interactions with them and they don’t want to mess anything up. Unless you directly say, “I like you and want to date you,” it’s gonna go over their head.

And that would work perfectly for this fic, it would be such a desperate, hot sloppy mess for the both of you: With Sloane, trying to preserve your friendship and not mess this up despite their desire for you, how much this is actually you and how much of this is just the pollen and desperation. And you pleading with them, trying to get across that no, you have wanted this for so damn long and it sucks that it took some stupid horny flower to make you say it, but please, for the love of AURORA, Sloane, TOUCH ME. God I could imagine how red their face would be. They would keep checking in with you to make sure they’re doing it right for you, whether they’re sliding their fingers in your cunt or sucking on your tits!!! You’re almost tempted to go and grab that damn flower and shove it in their face so they can loosen up, but… the way they take care of you, trying every single position to quell your burning arousal…. so loving and tender… it’s honestly what you crave more. They have you on your knees, thrusting back onto their fingers as they encourage you, their beaded bracelets click with every motion, their hand on the small of your back, kneading your ass. On their sleeping bag, legs wrapped around their shoulders, eating you out like you’re as yummy as those s’mores they had earlier, telling you to wet their sleeping bag, they’ll just cuddle naked with you in yours while you put that one out to dry. And yes…. you CAN fall asleep with their strap in you, if it feels good. You can wake up at any time and fuck yourself on it. Sloane will be awake in an instant, helping you roll your hips back, digging into them because god, this has only been a dream. Feeling your flesh in their hands, being able to touch and hold and clench. Might keep a mental track of how many times you’ve cum. You know. For posterity.

And after you’ve been fucked through it? When you wake up with the worst bed head you’ve ever had, covered in sweat and bruises, naked and pressed against Sloane in your sleeping bag? Sloane will kiss your lips shut, guide you back down, and show you the most loving, intimate sex, you’ve ever had. You’ll feel like you have never connected with a partner more than you have right now. Whispers of love from Sloane, complementing how pretty you are, how perfect, how you were made for them, how good you are to them, how they want to see you every day of their life. Completely overwhelming, yet so needed, especially how you were held so helpless to your own lust. They make sure you know that they aren’t leaving. They’ll be here by your side through anything.

#𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ messages from the red string of fate #WAHHHHHH HOW DID THIS GET SO LONGGGGG #🌸 my aphrodite anon

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static-radio-ao3 · 1 year ago

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@jegulus-microfic // september 4 // prompt: sign // words: 634

A gust of cool air alerts Regulus to the fact that someone walked into the cafe, so he turns to face the customer with a smile. The smile drops into a vaguely annoyed expression when he sees it’s just Sirius walking up to the counter. He isn’t really all that annoyed, but he is a younger sibling, so he’s just doing his duties as one.

This is James, Sirius signs, nodding towards the man who walked in with him. He takes his time spelling out the name and then showing Regulus the name sign. The name sign, which is a J and then the sign for… deer? Regulus frowns a little, so Sirius repeats the name sign. Yes, he definitely signed deer.

Regulus shrugs, not one to question name signs. His is star, after all. Sirius always jokes that it’s for his sparkling personality.

I finally meet the man, the myth, the legend, he signs. He rolls his eyes for good measure. Sirius has been going on and on and on about James for the longest time; Regulus briefly wondered if Sirius was in love with him, but then Remus Lupin came along and no one could hold a candle to that, really.

Don't be a dick, Sirius admonishes, and don't flirt with him.

Why would I flirt? Regulus' eyes flit over to James and James chooses that moment to smile and oh.

Listen. Regulus spends a lot of time looking at people's mouths to lip-read, so yeah, he has a thing for nice mouths. It’s only fair if he has to look at them all day, sue him. James' mouth? The nicest of them all. His full lips stretch into a wide smile, sloppy at the corners as if he can't possibly contain all his joy. His eyes crinkle at the corners, making him look boyish and mischievous behind his wire-frame glasses.

Regulus slowly signs, What can I get you?, expecting Sirius to interpret. Even though it is specifically a deaf establishment, they also get hearing customers who don’t know BSL. But Sirius doesn't interpret. James smiles impossibly wider and moves his hands to sign Hi! I'll have a pumpkin spice latte.

James, Sirius signs, appalled, it is September. You can't drink those pumpkin monstrosities until at least October. It's law.

Shut up, James signs with a fond eye-roll.

Neither of them seems to notice the distinct lack of movement behind the counter, Regulus' hands frozen midair, brain buffering as he processes that Sirius' hot friend can sign.

Regulus snaps his fingers in front of Sirius’ face to get his attention. When Sirius’ eyes are on him, he rapidly signs, You didn’t tell me he was deaf.

Oh, I didn’t? Must’ve slipped my mind. Sirius tilts his head to the side, as if trying to recall whether or not he mentioned that James is deaf. He shrugs when he can’t find the memory.

Regulus feels affection swell in his chest, but he quickly tamps it down. So what if he never managed to make a lot of friends because his parents wouldn’t let him associate with other deaf people. So what if his parents never learned sign language and forced Regulus to lip-read at all times. So what if Sirius stayed up at night as a kid to learn sign language just to be able to communicate with Regulus better.

Whatever, Regulus signs, turning to face James again, who at least has the decency to pretend he wasn’t following along with their conversation. A pumpkin spice latte, was it?

James nods, adding with whipped cream, please, and Regulus briefly laments that he won't have nearly as much opportunity to stare at James' mouth. But it's alright, because James' hands are nice too. And Regulus is shameless enough to stare at his mouth anyway.

#jegulus #jegulus microfic #regulus black #james potter #my writing #mil's microfics #regulus x james #james x regulus

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janeykath318 · 1 year ago

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TaserTorch Fake Dating Paranormal AU

“So……there’s this ghost couple living in my apartment and they’re extremely invested in my love life and to keep them from hounding me……I may have told them we’re dating.”

Johnny’s eyebrows hit the ceiling.

“There’s a lot to unpack here,” he began, eying Darcy with both concern and intrigue in his eyes.

She braced for him to ask if she was on drugs or a science bender. The whole premise sounded insane spoken out loud.

Johnny just sighed and plopped himself down, motioning her to a chair across from him. (Points for not being creepy, she thought).

“First off, tell me about the ghosts. I do believe you, by the way. Sue and I both can see and hear spirits. It’s one of our many quirks.”

“You never told me that!” she exclaimed.

“And you never told me you could either until today,” Johnny shrugged. “I didn’t want to give you any more reasons to be weirded out by me.”

“That would be a little hypocritical of me,” Darcy admitted. “We’re both pretty weird.”

“True. Now tell me about your ghosts.”

“Well, they’re British and they knew Howard Stark. I love their accents.”

“Proper ghosts, then,” Johnny acknowledged with a grin.

“Oh, very,” Darcy confirmed. “He makes the most outraged expressions when I make tea in my sloppy American way. His wife is super sweet and quiet, but tries not to act horrified at my mess.”

“How did they end up at your place?” Johnny asked.

“There was too much bad energy at Stark’s mansion, which makes sense, and their old cottage got razed decades ago. They drifted around for awhile before they decided my townhouse was the perfect spot. They’d been there about 15 years when I moved in. Now, they’re dead set on ghostly matchmaking.”

Darcy made a forlorn face and Johnny stifled an amused snort.

“So, how long would this counterfeit courtship last?” He asked, trying to sound casual.

“Probably a few months, then we stage a dramatic breakup, and I act super heartbroken and then they’ll leave me alone for another year or so. Sound like a plan?”

“As long as you don’t use cheating as the reason we split,” Johnny said firmly. “I may be many things, but a cheater is not one of them, even if it’s pretend. Also, I’d need a batch of your rocky road brownies to sweeten the deal.”

Darcy stuck out her hand.

“Deal.”

Johnny shook it.

“Deal.” he echoed. “When do we start?”

#tasertorch #randomized prompt fic #darcy lewis #johnny storm #can you guess who the ghosts are?

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sohemotional · 2 years ago

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The haters need to get over it. The thing is Brittany is a villain for most of the story and it’s like these fans refuse to acknowledge she’s intentionally supposed to be one of the mean girls/villains. She makes mean comments to people sometimes because she’s a catty girl God forbid and I mean she’s far from the only Glee character who insults people. What do they expect from someone who was basically influenced by Sue, Quinn and Santana? She’s one of the popular girls in their clique.

She’s not a horrible person just because she’s not always heroic. Britt and Santana are neither 100% good or 100% evil, they’re somewhere in between and that makes them complex/interesting. Brittany has also done good things for people which they conveniently ignore. Characters without flaws are boring.

As for them not understanding her dry humour, their loss I guess. Jane Lynch loved Brittany’s humour and so did many fans. So I mean they can just be bitter and miserable I guess.

The same people who bash Brittany make excuses for Kitty, Cassandra, Blaine, Quinn, Sebastian, Kurt and usually see no problem with anything Santana did either. Now don’t get me wrong I love Santana obviously but she did some things that are way worse than anything Brittany did. I don’t see how on earth someone could make excuses for what Kitty did to Marley or Blaine cheating on Kurt and in the same breath act like Britt is evil because she said a few mean catty comments to people. I’ve legit seen fans demonizing Britt because she made one comment to Finn about him eating too many sloppy joes I kid you not. They’re just determined to hate her.

I literally will never understand why so many fans only like Santana but bash Brittany for anything and act like she’s some terrible person and completely ignore how much Santana loved her

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the-iceni-bitch · 3 years ago

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Take Me On Top of the World

Pairing: Johnny Storm x fem!reader

Words: ~2.7k

Summary: Your friends get a little too excited when Johnny crashes your girls’ night out.

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content (fingering, f receiving oral sex, unprotected vaginal sex, public sex, multiple orgasms), excessive alcohol consumption, SMUT!!! 18+ ONLY!!!

A/N: I’ve been wanting to write a Johnny fic for a while and I finally got the inspo for this one! May continue this as a little series but I haven’t decided yet.

I’m no longer doing taglists so if you want to stay up to date on all the latest filth, follow my sideblog @the-iceni-library and turn on notifications!

You grabbed the tray of shots to bring back to your group, the bitches already starting to get rowdy from the three other bars you’d hit earlier.

It was so nice to have a little break from work. Yes, you absolutely loved the opportunity to collaborate with Sue. Even if she hadn’t been the Invisible Woman, she was a giant in the field of genetics. Having access to her resources as you worked on your comprehensive mapping of the human genome was a huge boon. But girl was intense as fuck.

Hence, girls’ night. Sans Sue.

“Alright ya skanks, I got more tequila!!!”

A huge round of cheers went up at that, all of you tossing back your drinks with some wild hoots. You had to grab some of the glasses before the sloppy whores tried to smash them Viking style and you had to head back to the bar to grab some water for their crazy asses. Once you were sure everyone was at least relatively stable, you herded them all towards the dance floor to hopefully burn off some of that drunken energy.

“Y/N?”

Fuck your life, what was Johnny Storm doing here? That was a stupid question, it was a club full of women. You so did not need to deal with this fuck boi right now.

“It is Y/N, right?” He was giving you that fucking pretty smile that you hated. “Sue’s friend? Or do you prefer Dr. Y/N?”

“Jesus, Storm, are you gonna bother me here, too?” You were drunk enough that you didn’t really care about being gracious. “It’s bad enough I have to deal with your shenanigans at work, just let me dance with my friends without acting like a slut.”

“Holy shit, is that the Human Torch?”

“Goddamn you drunk bitches.” You mumbled under your breath, making exasperated gestures at them behind Johnny’s back when he started sauntering towards them with a cocky grin.

“That’s right ladies, it’s me.” The looks those hoes were shooting between you and the boy toy were not helping your mood. “Now, who’s up for body shots?”

“Absolutely not!” You grabbed Tracy when she stumbled forward with a giggle, frowning at Johnny when the rest of the gaggle pouted at you. “Babe, you just got engaged, and I am not explaining to all the boyfriends and girlfriends and spouses why there’s photos of you idiots licking salt off a superhero’s abs on the front page of the tabloids tomorrow.”

“Fine, you are such a mom!” Greta rolled her eyes at you as you tried to corral them away from the pretty boy. “But you don’t have an S/O that needs explaining to, and if all we can get is some vicarious horny action…”

“Christ, you’re a bunch of manipulative cunts.” You stuck your tongue out at them before turning back to Johnny, breathing deeply at that stupid kicked puppy look he was giving you. “Quit pouting Storm. Apparently, me and you are doing shots together so these stupid bitches don’t start breaking shit with their temper tantrums.”

“Excellent, I think we’re gonna have a great time.” He sauntered to the bar to grab everything you were going to need while you tapped your foot irritably and ignored the excited noises coming from the group of idiots behind you.

“If I see myself on TMZ tomorrow, I’m gonna be pissed.” You rolled your eyes when he started to follow you back to the private booth you’d reserved, sighing when you turned around and saw him starting to unbutton his shirt. “Nice try, pretty boy. Your shirt is staying on.”

“I dunno if you’ve ever done body shot before babe, but…”

“I’ve done body shots before, asshole.” All your friends were frowning at your mom friend ass. “I’ll lick it off your neck.”

“Ok, prude.” He just snickered when you flipped him off, wetting his fingers and dragging them over his throat before grabbing the salt shaker.

You ignored his smirking while you poured your shot, rolling your shoulders to loosen up as you made appeasing gestures at your friends. One of these nights you were gonna go out and they weren’t going to try to set you up with some fuck boy.

Johnny bit his lip as you drew close to him, tilting his head to the side and humming when you flicked your tongue out and ran it over the salt in a quick stripe. Being so close to him made you realize just how warm he was, the heat radiating off him and the shot of tequila you downed having a very interesting and heady effect on your body. Even him grinning at you like an idiot around the lime didn’t serve to sour your mood like you thought it would, taking things a little slower when you leaned forward to pluck the fruit from between his lips with a soft sigh.

What did bring you back was a camera’s flash going off, turning to growl at Kim when she tucked her phone back into her clutch with an innocent shrug. You scowled at her while you salted your neck, grabbing the lime Tracy handed to you and perching it between your lips.

He moved much slower when he bent to lick the salt from the column of your throat, dragging his extremely warm tongue over your thrumming pulse until you let out the tiniest, most satisfying whimper. When he leaned back to down his shot, he winked at you, and fuck him but maybe you shouldn’t have agreed to this after drinking so much because you were suddenly having all sorts of thoughts about how warm certain other parts of his anatomy might be.

You felt his tongue sweep over yours when he took the slice of lime from between your lips, his hand curling around the back of your head while he lingered there for a few breaths before leaning back and cocking his head at you.

“Huh.” He spat the rind into the shot glass and set it aside, chewing on his bottom lip as he gazed at you.

“Yeah.” You couldn’t think of anything else to say, were you really this hard up? Or was he just surprisingly sexy right now?

“You wanna, I dunno, do another one?” He couldn’t figure out why he was feeling so sheepish all of a sudden.

“Sure.” You could slap every one of those stupid sluts who were giggling behind you.

Maybe it was when you started letting him take the shot glass from in between your tits, the way your balconette bra pushed your cleavage together making a perfect little glass holder that he was more than happy to take advantage of. Or, maybe it was when you switched out the tequila for sake, because if you were going to slurp alcohol out of his overheated bellybutton, it was gonna be something that was supposed to be warm. But at some point, your friends decided they were sick of watching you two lick each other and headed out.

Right now you had completely done away with the pretense of body shots and were shoving your tongues in each other’s mouths, your limbs wrapped around each other as you ground into Johnny’s lap. You tried to tell yourself that this was all because of the alcohol, but with the muggy temperature that was permeating the booth you had sweat most of it out.

“Christ, are you always this warm?” You nibbled at his lips as you framed his face in your hands, running your fingers back until they were running over his buzzed hair and it was tickling your palms. “Or is this just how you get all those girls to take off their clothes so fast?”

“It just gets harder to control when I’m excited.” He chuckled low in his chest, turning it into a purr when you started brushing your lips over his jaw. “The naked chicks are just a bonus. Why? You want to get out of that dress?”

“Well… mmph.” You almost lost your train of thought when he pulled your lips back to his, tracing them gently with his tongue until you were moaning for him. “Maybe if we weren’t still in the middle of the club.”

“Baby, no one’s looking at us.” He started leaving a trail of wet, warm kisses down your neck until he could bury his face in your chest.

“I’m still not getting naked in a crowded nightclub, Storm.” You gasped when he started skimming his fingers up your thighs and under your skirt. “But, if you can be sneaky…”

“I can be so damn sneaky.” He grinned against your lips when you whined at the feel of his fingers growing warmer as they inched closer to your core.

“Good.” Your voice was low and husky with need while you traced his bottom lip with your thumb. “Why don’t you show me what else that tongue can do.”

He beamed and gave you a peck on the lips before taking a quick survey of the crowd, slowly sliding off the bench and to the floor once he was sure no one was looking. His hands trailed up the outsides of your legs until they were drawing your panties off and tucking them in his pocket, the feeling of his lips pressing against the inside of your thighs making you slide further down in your seat so he could get closer to your throbbing core.

“Oh fuck, you’re so pretty.” He spread your legs wide with his broad shoulders once he reached the apex of your thighs, pulling your silky folds apart so he could really look at you and groaning at the sight of your slick leaking out of your throbbing pussy. “Would it make you mad if I told you I’ve been thinking about this ever since you started working with Sue?”

“Yes, get to it.” You grumbled, arching your back violently with a sharp gasp when you felt the wet brand of his tongue lave over your entrance. “Holy shit!”

You thought it was going to be good but you weren’t prepared, the heat radiating from him making everything so much more intense. Your toes were already curling while he dragged his tongue slowly over your slit, the pressure and warmth making you choke on your tongue when your clit throbbed against his mouth.

It was taking a ridiculous amount of self control for you to not start screaming, your voice leaving you in a steady whine that you fought to contain when you felt two of his thick fingers slipping inside you. The feel of him curling and stroking them against your velvety walls was so good, his tongue couldn’t move fast enough to lap up all the slit that was leaking out of you.

The pads of his fingers found that perfect spot and your whole body seized, your hands digging into the leather of the booth while your muscles arched painfully and your eyes rolled back in your skull. Your cunt was trying to pull him deeper as your release soaked him to the wrist.

“Just fucking beautiful.” He couldn’t stop staring at the way your pussy was fluttering around his fingers, the wet tightness of your core drawing him in until he had to bury his face in your swollen lips. “Fuck, I need more.”

“Ungh, Johnny!” The way he was pressing his tongue against your clit was making you lose it, you actually lost a heel when you thumped your feet against the floor when he slid a third finger inside you. “Oh, fuck, Johnny, don’t stop. Fuck, so good. Please!”

He kept stroking that perfect spot inside you as his lips wrapped around your clit, the warmth that radiated from his mouth and fingers spreading through your whole body until you let out a thin keen. It was unbearable. This playboy should not be this good at taking you apart, he was making you lightheaded.

Something changed in what he was doing. Maybe it was the angle, or the pressure, or the heat but suddenly you were jolting forward with a harsh breath and smacking your palm against the table when your body shivered with another intense orgasm. You sagged against the table with a low moan when he finally released you, breathing deeply as he slowly rose from the floor to sit close to you.

“You doing ok there, Y/N?” He leaned over you to press his lips over the curve of your shoulder and wrap his arm around your waist. “Maybe you can help me out?”

“Sure.” You groaned when he pulled you into his lap, tucking your face into his shoulder as you dipped your hands between the two of you to undo his fly. “Not like I’m gonna be able to walk tomorrow anyway.”

“And I’m not even sorry about it.” His chuckle vibrated his chest against yours as he bent forward to nuzzle into your neck, purring gently when he felt your fingers wrap around his cock. “Ah, fuck.”

“I hope you’re ready, pretty boy.” You sat up slightly on your knees to line him up before sinking down onto him at a deliciously slow pace, grinning at the wanton moan he let out. “I don’t wanna be the only one who’s walking funny.”

He growled when you started to ride him, his fingers digging into your hips as he guided your rhythm. You were very pleased to find that you were right, his cock was so warm, like velvet covered steel sliding through your slick channel at an increasingly wild pace as you grew frantic.

Not only was he warm, he was big. So long and thick and hitting you so deep in this position that you were dangerously close to screaming already. You were stretched so tight around him it was almost painful, but the heat made it easy for you to relax. Johnny whined when he peeled down and watched you swallowing him whole, your thick cream coating his cock until he could slam you down on him at a pace that was going to leave you with some deep bruises on the insides of your thighs but who fucking cared at this point.

“Jesus fucking shit.” He hissed at you clenching around him when he hit your deep, your back arching your chest towards his face until he was almost motorboating you. “Lemme just pop one out, baby, please.”

“Ok.” All you could do was gasp at this point, your fingers digging into his shoulders as he kept hitting that deep spot over and over until you could barely think.

He hooked his fingers over your neckline and yanked, groaning when one of your breasts popped free. You purred when he wrapped his lips around your nipple, sucking softly and massaging it with his tongue as he gazed at you through his lashes. There wasn’t anything he could think of that was prettier than how you looked right now, your bottom lip tucked between your teeth and your eyes fluttering wildly as he brought you right to the edge.

His lips pulled back just a little and as soon as you felt the scrape of his teeth you were gone, burying your face in his neck to muffle your strangled cry as you released all over him. He released your breast with a wet pop and yanked your lips to his, tugging at them with his teeth and growling low in his chest as he held you tight and his hips started to stutter. When you felt his somehow even hotter cum shooting into you, you sagged into his shoulder, panting heavily as he shuddered underneath you.

“Fuck me.” He ran his fingers over your spine as he pulled you close, grinning when you finally lifted your head to gaze into his eyes. “We heading back to your place, or mine?”

“God, you are so fucking cocky.” You gave him an exasperated smirk as you climbed off him. “Your place. Don’t need your stupid commentary on my apartment.”

The weekend was absolutely fantastic, and totally worth the copy of the Post that Sue slammed on your desk Monday morning, a photo of her brother with his face buried between your thighs splashed across the front page.

#natalie writes #johnny storm #johnny storm x reader #johnny storm x you #johnny storm x y/n #johnny storm x female reader #johnny storm smut #chris evans #chris evans smut #chris evans character #smut #eighteen and over #eighteen plus #do not interact if you are a minor

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pepperstories · 2 years ago

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Bloopers, Baby

Background: Usual story. Female character introduced into Season 4 as a potential love interest to Eddie Munson. Female character, however, is in fact a life-long friend with Joseph Quinn. Meeting at the London Academy of Music and Dramatic Art. They have worked together in just about every job they have had. They have always played friends or love interests in their series/movie. Female character is established as being British and a year younger than Joseph Quinn. This is inspired by the blooper reels. Don’t come at me for the lack of Y/N. Don’t come at be for the established sex of the character. My brain can only compute so much. Warnings: Fluff, F&M friendship, implied flirting, kissing, hugging, swearing, established female character, no name given, age verified in description, no REAL spoilers per say.

Word Count: 1.2k (No proofread. Sue me.)

The set was always lined with cast and crew during takes. On this occasion, Joseph stood with his co-star and friend of 13 years trying to figure out the best way to kiss in front of their colleagues. Although this was nothing new to them, it was always hard to establish a true quality kiss with meaning when there was over 50 people looking on.

Joe stood across from her, his face set in a hard line and the same look mirrored in front of him. “We’ve got this.” She gritted through her teeth. Without the pair knowing, a lone camera was filming the interaction. The squabble of noise around them as everyone rehearsed their own lines and they prepared for theirs. Within a split second, Joe’s face turned to the camera and grabbed his co-star by the waist. He dipped the actress suddenly and started placed sloppy saliva filled kisses all over her face. The howling laughter followed from both his beautiful friend and the co-stars around them as the notorious Duffer Brothers called for a restart and he brought her back to her starting point. Wiping saliva from her face and laughing as he winked directly into the camera. ___________

This scene was supposed to be harrowing. It was supposed to be gentle and loving. She held a dying Eddie in her arms as she prepared herself to cry. The various make-up artists flittering about with her hair and Joe’s bloodstained teeth. The weight of his body heavy on her bent knee’s, she relaxed and tensed her shoulders to prepare for her dramatic howl. He wiggled himself to get comfortable for the scene. The very moment he tells her that he loves her. The very moment he slips away. He had it down to a tee. They had practiced during the script review that week and although the words on the page spoke truth, the pair were infamous for switching lines and improvising. “I don’t think Eddie would say this.” “She should be screaming, not silent crying.” As the set cleared of all unnecessary folk, the pair focused in on their grief. They truly thought to themselves what it would feel like to really lose one another.

“QUIET ON SET.” “Action!” He spluttered his line so perfectly. His dark chocolate eyes staring into her blue ones. He watched the steady stream of hot tears run down her face, mingling with the crusted stage blood and dirt. She sobbed from her chest. Her back aching slightly from holding the weight and heaving the dry sob. “I love you.” He spat slightly, the blood cradling around his mouth and chin. Before she could even utter her line. Before she could improvise and go with it, she spat straight into his face when she sobbed out. A long string of spit from her mouth to the corner of his. An act that rendered Joseph completely useless as he looked horrified into her surprised face. “You just spat in my mouth you dirty mink” He wiped the obvious foam of spit from the corner of his mouth as she brought her hands up to her own. Both Duffer Brothers cutting the scene with a cackle and a “Cut!” “I am so sorry.” Through the tears of laughter this time, Joseph rolled onto his front and mirrored his co-star. His knees bent under his arse as he watched her wide eyed laughter. “We’ve exchanged spit so many times, a wee gob won’t do ye any harm.” She spat out as he shoved her playfully. “That’s definitely one for the blooper reel.” ___________

The Duffer Brothers always made sure to have music on in between takes. The various artists that donned the speaker were just suggestions from the cast and crew. Today was a particularly good day from “tunes”. The various songs from the late 80’s early 90’s played throughout the makeshift sets as the rolling camera caught all cast members dancing to this one particular song. Shania Twain’s- That Don’t Impress Me Much.

The camera catching each cast member in their own routine. The main focus being Joseph and his best friend. Mouthing the words to each other as they sipped their black coffee’s. They swayed their hips and swished their hair about. This was a routine the cast and crew were familiar in. Impromptu dance routines and an easy relief of stress during the longer days. Turning to the camera, the budding Ying to Josephs Yang turned in time for the camera to catch her singing the main line of the song: “That Don’t Impress Me Much.” And nudging her Ray Ban’s onto the bridge of her nose like it was part of the script. ___________

The boat scene was the hardest for all of them. She was always exhausted from being in the water and each time it came to their retake, she would heave a sigh. But today was a good day. Today was Joe Keery’s and Natalia’s diving scene where they were all to follow in. There was a ridiculous amount of goofiness on the boat, but they were ready for the water scenes to be over. As they acted out the scene, each of them impeccably timed and choreographed, she waited her turn next to Joseph. Much to her dismay, the scene was ruined when a splash of water hit the main camera. Pulling his cold and tired best friend to him, he used his body weight to rock the boat. His tight grip around her shoulders was enough to tell her that he was up to no good. “Don’t even think about it.” She warned, a pointed finger a mere inch from his face as she looked back at him. His hot breath puffed in her ear as he laughed. He knew that she knew. They had worked together in so many productions and movies, she knew his tricks and he knew hers. It was clockwork shit. Rocking harder, he lifted her body off the makeshift seat of the prop boat and pulled her full body to the side. A shriek and splash, as well as Josephs manic laughter, was echoing throughout the staged area. A full lung full of water went straight into her mouth but sooner straight back out as she surfaced. The water barely at waist height as she splashed the jokester friend. He simply volleyed her over his shoulder in one quick move and threw her into the large pool of water again. A fair distance to chuck her, her wig sat half on and half off her head as she resurfaced for air. Again, the eruption of laughter could be heard throughout the set as that same lonesome camera caught the moments fans were unable to see.

#eddie munson #joseph quinn #fanfiction #Joe Quinn Fanfiction #Eddie Munson Fanfiction #Fluff #Bloopers #Stranger Things #Stranger Things Season 4 #Stranger Thing Season 4 Bloopers

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holylulusworld · 4 years ago

Text

In the books (5) - Fiction becomes reality

Summary: You’re a successful horror book author, specialized in writing about haunted places. Now you follow the Winchesters to write new books.

Pairing: Dean x Author!Reader

Warnings: angst, language, sassy reader, grumpy Dean, love-hate relationship, tension, Dean being a porn enthusiast, the reader has no shame again and is a teasing little shit in this part, smut, unprotected sex, dirty talk, restraints, dominant Dean, aftercare, a hint of fluff, marking, hints of butt stuff (nothing happens)

A/N: My reader’s job got inspired by Stephen King's character Mike Enslin from 1408.

<< Part 4

In the books masterlist

“Our hero slowly unbuttons his pants, never breaking eye contact with the girl he’s about to devour. She’s dripping onto the sheets, moaning as she guesses the size of his dick,” you giggle, biting your lower lip while you watch Dean undress. “He knows she will have the night of her life.”

“Why are you talking like a narrator?” smirking Dean drops his boxers, making an odd noise sounding like a growl or snarl to you. “Dean?”

“You wanted inspiration for your next story, sweetheart,” humming you kneel on the bed, laughing as Dean stands in front of you in his naked glory. “Whaddya say?”

“Thank you, Mr. Winchester?” you giggle, patting Dean’s chest. “I think I got everything I need. This truly was an inspiration.” wondering why you get up from the bed Dean cocks a brow.

“Where are you going? I thought – I mean,” pointing toward his bed Dean watches you in confusion. “Don’t you want an answer to your question?”

“Think about the answer and-“ sliding your fingertips over his back you smirk, “surprise me, Winchester. I’m going to have a snack and will wait for you.”

“I wanted...,“ walking out of the room you smirk to yourself. You’d like to turn around to get a good look at Dean’s ass, but you want to rile the hunter up to let him lose control a little tonight. “Y/N!”

“Come to me if you found out what you want,” closing the door behind you, pressing your back against the wood you inhale deeply to calm your racing heart. You only hope you riled Dean up, not pissed him off.

“That’s how you want to play, huh?” pressed against the wall in the dungeon you whimper silently. Dean sneaked behind you a few minutes before and what can you say – he stripped you bare, bound your wrists behind your back, and now, he has you at his mercy. “I know the answer now.”

“Hmpf,” Dean smirks, hands groping your tits, lips nipping at your shoulder, he enjoys the muffled moans you press out of your throat.

“Bet you’d like to talk right now to tell me about your next book, the weather, and anything in between but-“ he bites your shoulder, makes you cry out at the pain while your pussy clenches around nothing, and your knees are about to give in.

“D-Dean,” he’s taking his time, lets his hands and lips wander all over your body, explores your trembling form with skilled hands. “Please.”

“How do you want me to fuck you, kitten? Rough and fast? Slow and gentle? Hard and mind-blowing,” you moan behind the makeshift gag, knees buckling. “Hard and mind-blowing it is, huh?”

Humming you feel his hands grip your ass roughly, spreading your cheeks.

“Hard-“ you choke out, pushing your ass into Dean’s hands. “I want you.”

“Nah, you are not calling the shots here, sweetheart. I’ll tell you what I’m going to do to you,” whimpering you nod eagerly only for Dean to take his warmth away. “Nothing. You lost your chance to have the night of your life.”

“NO!” you scream behind the gag when he wants to leave the dungeon. “I-I,” you look at Dean, jerking your head toward his crotch. “P-please?”

“Aw, look at my little author. Where is the tough girl wanting to hunt monsters and making fun of me?” Dean muses, hungrily drinking your naked body in. He leans against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. “What do you want? Shall I fulfill your desires and dreams, fuck you hard and let you know more about me? You’ll get Dean Winchester uncensored if you won’t stop begging me.”

“Ass-“ you growl, “hole.”

“Yeah, I’d like to fuck that one too,” snickering Dean walks back toward you, eyes roaming your trembling body. “But for now,” he unzips his pants, lets his cock slap against your bare ass, “I’ll take your naughty little cunt, writer girl.”

While you grunt anytime he taps his cock against your pussy lips Dean grins behind you.

“I bet,” he whispers against your cheek, pressing his palm against your belly, pushing your ass into his crotch, “you will write the dirtiest porn when I’m done with you – if I didn’t fuck your brains out.”

“Fu-cker,” you squeal around the makeshift gag when he finally inches his way inside your body. Dean nibbles at your ear shell, moaning as he bottoms out. “Thick.”

“Yeah, my little writer. You’re so full of me,” he slowly slides back out, pausing to force another muffled groan out of your throat. “I’ll ruin your cunt and make you useless to all other guys. Only my dick will fit in from now on.”

You wish you could slap his face or tell him to fuck off and don’t be too cocky but the way he starts to move has you on the edge only moments later.

“I’ll take the gag out now to hear all the noises you can make for me,” he removes the gag, tossing it over his shoulder. “So good for me.”

“Winchester,” head hanging low you feel Dean’s rough hands grasp for your bound wrists, holding them in a tight grip. “Ah, you-“

“I what, sweetheart?” he mocks you, but you couldn’t care less; not with the way he grinds against you, dragging his cock over your g-spot. “Fuck you good?”

“So gentle,” you grin, giggling as Dean pushes against your shoulders to force you to bend over. “Hey, don’t stop.”

“I won’t, writer girl,” he growls, gripping your upper arms to drag you onto his length with every thrust. “Gonna fucking ruin you. No one can give you better inspiration for your next porn than I can.”

“Yes, fuck-“ your knees buckle, your arms slowly feel numb, but you don’t give a shit. Dean’s cock hits home with every thrust and you know, he wants you to praise him but for the first time since you met the cocky hunter, you remain silent.

“Scream for me, my famous author,” he pants, speeding up to bring you over the edge. “Let Sammy hear you’re a dirty girl and that you love my dick.”

“Fishing-“ you moan as the sudden orgasm takes your breath away, “for compliments already?” Dean stills again, groans deeply to feel your cunt grip him tightly.

“Ah, what?” pulling out Dean watches your cunt clench around nothing. “Dean?” breathlessly you moan his name, hoping to feel him cum all over you.

“Wait for it,” he growls, now pushing you to the floor, forcing you on your knees. “Have me a little longer,” roughly pushing back inside Dean immediately grips your shoulders. “Feel this?” his flesh slaps against yours, creates a melody of profanities and animalistic noises when you feel another wave build up fast.

“I’m gonna cum again,” your knees scrape painfully over the ground, with every powerful snap of Dean’s hips. “Plea-“ a strangled cry leaves your lips when you come undone, simply closing your eyes to shudder through your orgasm.

“There you go,” you feel his cum coat your ass before you even get the chance to take a breath. “Have me all over you.” He rubs his cum into your skin, making a noise you only ever heard in porn. “Next time, I’ll cum inside.”

“Jesus, Dean!”

“You fuck like an animal but carry me like a gentleman,” you tease, resting your head against Dean’s shoulder when he carries you toward the bathtub. “Aw, you made me a bubble bath.”

“More inspiration for porn,” Dean grins, watching you shake your head violently. “What? Don’t you want to have more sex tonight, sweetheart?”

“Dude, my knees are scratched, my arms still a little numb and my pussy won’t survive another meet up with your dick,” you snicker. “Did I mention you wrecked her? I will sue you if I don’t get it again because you ruined her for any other guy.”

“Guess I’ll have to give it to you-“ grinning Dean pecks your temple, “good tomorrow or later again.”

“Definitely tomorrow. Give my lady parts a break here, Winchester,” giggles bubble up your throat as Dean carefully puts you into the bathtub. You moan, closing your eyes while Dean starts to clean your body with a soft sponge. “Maybe I will write three books.”

“I inspired two write three books about me?” blinking your eyes open you lean back in the bathtub, watching Dean run the sponge over your thighs. “What will you write, sweetheart?”

“Oh, I will start with the Winchester Mystery House, then there will be a short story about a mysterious man stealing the poor girl's mind while he fucks her in a dark and creepy dungeon, threatening to do it again,” you giggle, splashing water into Dean’s face. “Last but not least, a nice short story about a guy doing awesome aftercare.”

“All of your stories are about me,” humming to himself Dean slides his hand over your thigh to tickle your skin. “I knew that I could fuck your brains out.”

“You’re so full of yourself,” you smirk. “Cocky bastard.”

“Maybe but,” leaning closer Dean pecks your lips, “not half an hour ago you were full of me and liked it, Y/N. From now on, only I’m allowed to inspire your stories.”

“The scary ones,” you deadpan, “or the naughty ones exploring my sexuality and dirty fantasies?” seductively sliding your fingers over his bicep, you batt your eyelashes. “I hope you meant the dirty ones…”

“Definitely the dirty ones,” you lean your back against Dean’s headboard, writing another line. “Uh, he gripped my body, forced me on my knees to overwhelm me with his strength. I screamed, tearing through the silence with my voice to let anyone know he just ruined my vagina.”

“No,�� Dean grumbles, pointing at your notebook. “Do not use the word ‘vagina’, it sounds clinical or something. Use pussy, cunt, or sloppy hole.”

“You dirty man, Dean Winchester,” smirking you cross the word vagina out to write pussy. “Better?”

“Better. Now tell them I ruined you for any other guy. That I’m thicker than any dude you ever fucked,” you roll your eyes but truth to be told, Dean was the thickest dick you ever had. “Come on, give me that.”

“Fine, lemme just find the right words,” pinching the bridge of your nose you close your eyes, recalling the previous events. “His thick shaft split me open, ruined me for any guy wanting to-“

“Fuck me,” Dean takes the pen out of your hands, writing ‘fuck me’. “That’s perfect. Now tell them my rough and strong hands gripped your flesh and that you want more.”

“Dude are you a writer now?” you lick your lips, watching Dean snatch the notebook out of your hands to write more lines. “Dean, give it back!”

“No, I will write what I’ll do to you tomorrow,” he grins when you scoot closer to look at the pages, reading the lines Dean wrote.

“You’ll show me how to use a shotgun?” squealing you jump at Dean, arms wrapped tightly around his neck you pepper kisses all over his face. “As I fucked you?”

“I don’t want you to steal one and shoot my ass or something,” nodding you slide your hand over Dean’s chest to pat it gently. “And maybe I like you a little.”

“Last time I checked you weren’t that little…”

The End...

SPN Forever Tags

@donnaintx

@screechingartisancashbailiff

@fallen-wolf22

@sister-winchesters99

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--------------------------------------

Dean/Jensen Forever Tags

@spnfamily-j2

@supernatural-bellawinchester

@negans-lucille-tblr

@deans-baby-momma

@thefaithfulwriter

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------------------------------------------------

In the books tags

@beanie-beebo

#In the books - Fiction becomes reality #dean winchester #dean winchester smut #dean winchester x you #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester SPN #smut #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #dean x you

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captainsourwolf · 4 years ago

Text

okay hear me out.

everyone knows about link’s crush on john mayer. it’s no secret, he happily told everyone on camera his crush is the singer. nobody is surprised of course, least of all rhett, because rhett is the one that gets to hold his hand and love him and fuck him and kiss him and do all the things john mayer just wishes he could fucking do with link neal.

which okay, maybe rhett’s a little jealous sometimes. but he can’t help it. john mayer gets brought up and link’s eyes light up, this spot on his throat that ticks when his pulse rate spikes starts jumpin’, he gets this weirdly euphoric look on his face because he gets to talk about his stupid crush. the last time he reacted like that to rhett was when they were in college and he thought he was being smooth hiding his feelings.

okay so rhett is a lot jealous. sue him.

one day at the creative house he walks in and link’s playing an old john mayer cd and rhett’s blood instantly boils. he follows the source straight into link’s office where link is bebopping his head along to some stupid song about something stupid and rhett clenches a fist before he can even stop himself.

“link,” rhett would huff when he’s ignored only to feel bad a second later. he’s had crushes before. he remembers what it feels like.

but this different. this is link getting weirdly giddy when the other man is brought up, this is him bringing the singer up any chance he gets, it’s link acting like a teenager experiencing his first boner because someone made him feel all tingly.

rhett hates it. supremely. with everything in him.

which is why he can’t be blamed when he slaps his hand on link’s dumb boom box he just had to have and effectively stops john mayer’s crooning. link jumps in surprise and finally notices rhett has entered the room.

“hey—! i was listening to that!” but he isn’t angry, just peeved, cheeks flushing a bit when he glares at rhett and gets up to turn it back on.

rhett is taller and bigger so he blocks the boom box and crosses his arms.

“maybe im tired of listening to john mayer all the time,” rhett snips and link huffs and his mouth pops open into a perfect ring and he looks a bit murderous for a second if rhett’s bring totally honest. “your crush is cute, but come on, do we gotta listen to him all the time?”

link gets all huffy again and throws his hands in the air. “it’s not a crush, shut up, man,” he grumbles. but the spot on the back of his neck that gives him away all the time flares up and he reaches up to scrub at it.

“you loooooove him?” rhett teases. he can do that. he can tease, even if it means reverting back to when he was a high schooler that thought the way to a girl’s heart was through jokes and rude comments. he grins a little when link looks away, to the side and down, rubbing that spot even harder.

“shuddup, rhett.” there’s no venom to it, just a bit of amusement and embarrassment to go with the pinkness rising up his neck.

“you wanna hold his hand and swoon over him while he sings to you?”

link’s blush disappears under the collar of his—surprisingly enough—john mayer sweatshirt. the one that’s cream colored and splashed with pinks and blues, and looks soft against his skin.

“rhett—“

rhett grins a cheeky little grin and leans against the table the boom box is on.

“want him to wine and dine you? show you a good time?”

link’s tells are starting to pop out: shifting on his feet, scrubbing his neck, pushing at his glasses, fidgeting with his wedding ring. rhett is hitting every button and it sends a thrill through him knowing he’s making link a bit hot under the collar.

and of course that’s when he notices the blush deepen when he says “show you a good time” and the subtle way link is trying to adjust his pants. rhett swallows and licks his lips and thinks he could have some fun with this. he is jealous after all. get link hot, get him off, remind him rhett is the one he should be blushing for.

“want john mayer to kiss you, link?” rhett shoves away from his perch and stalks towards him. link licks his lips and looks down at the floor, shuffles his feet.

“you don’t—“ link shrugs and huffs. “you don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.”

rhett bumps link’s chest he gets so close. dips down and kisses his hot cheek, his ear, tugs on it with his teeth a little.

“you wanna fuck him?” rhett whispers and tugs again. link whimpers a little, a tiny thing rhett almost doesn’t hear. when he registers that’s what he heard, he rears back enough to see link’s cheeks ruddy and hot and giving him away. rhett swallows, shuffles closer, feels an unmistakable bulge pressing into his leg.

link is hard. the realization makes the jealousy burn in rhett’s gut.

“do you want him to fuck you?” rhett murmurs and that’s the clencher. link’s cheeks turn tomato red and it disappears down his neck into that silly sweatshirt and his cock twitches on rhett’s hip.

link swallows so hard his throat clicks and he shoves rhett back, hardly far enough to put any space between them, but still. he glares up at rhett with no heat, digs fists into rhett’s shirt, yanks him down into a kiss that’s more bite than anything.

they don’t do things half-assed that’s for sure. link is naked and bent over his desk in no time, rhett naked and two fingers deep with spit and lube they keep hidden in the desk and leaning over link’s backside to get at his ear. breath hot and damp and making link shiver.

“wonder how good it’d feel to have john mayer’s fingers up your ass, baby? think his are as thick as mine?” link moans so loud rhett feels it in chest. his dick twitches at the sound.

link is a needy whiny mess. looks fucked out already spread out on his own desk, back heaving, cock dripping a sticky trail on his thigh and the floor. rhett can see his eyes where he’s leaning close, can see how dopey and unfocused they are just from rhett finger fucking him and talking about another man. the jealousy only makes him harder, makes him get a little rough with it, crooking his fingers just right to make link jerk and moan.

rhett pulls his fingers free and link whines and chases the feeling. he’s on his knees behind link biting an ass cheek and dragging his thumb over link’s stretched hole, teasing and kind of all over the place, not really knowing what he wants to do just that he wants to do it. so he makes link turn over, gets his mouth on a thigh, on a hip, on his balls, at the base of his cock.

“such a good singer, must have a nice mouth, too. surely he does.” link’s head thunks on the desk and he whines again, raises his hips to try and get rhett’s mouth on him. “think he can suck a cock with that nice mouth?”

“rhett—“

rhett licks him from root to tip, sloppy and messy, precum and spit wetting his beard, shining up his lips.

“want him to suck you off, link? fuck his mouth the way you do mine?” rhett gets a weak kick to his thigh and fingers winding in his hair. link leans up, on his free elbow, peers down at rhett all fucked out and horny and desperate. he growls and yanks rhett’s head back to look at him, at his flushed and sweaty face and his perky nips, taut belly, his cock throbbing and wet. “admit it,” rhett huffs a laugh and digs his fingers into link’s thighs.

“what if i do?” link admits, voice too rough around the edges.

that just won’t do.

rhett growls this time and shoves link’s hand off his head then stands, fits himself between link’s thighs. they stare at each other a moment, link smirking in challenge, rhett glaring. he roughly grabs link around the knees, hikes his legs up till he’s resting his calves on rhett’s sweaty shoulders. he drags his cock along rhett’s, the tease, and moans, smirk widening when rhett chokes a little.

“come on, then, fuck me, rhett, bet john mayer—“ it’s enough for rhett clamp a hand over his mouth, use the other one to slick himself up and line up and slip the head of his cock in link’s tight hole. link’s clipped off moan and the way he shudders it out makes rhett’s head spin.

again, they don’t do things half-assed, ever. rhett gives him his time to adjust, barely enough, and fucks into him messy and quick. link licks his palm and bites at the meat of his hand but rhett doesn’t budge. he keeps his hand there and pulls out and thrusts back in, starting up a steady rhythm. doesn’t take long to build a pace that punches the air out of link’s lungs.

link’s legs slip and wind around rhett’s waist. he yanks rhett forward and down, brow knitting when rhett’s cock hits deeper, smoother. rhett finally removes his hand and winds it through link’s hair and presses their chests together.

this close he can see the thin ring of blue left, the freckle beside his eye, the sweat beading on his upper lip. he tilts link’s head back and bites at his throat, takes his time sucking a bruise into the delicate skin over his jugular. he soothes it then goes back in for more and fucks link harder, making the desk rattle and groan under their combined weight and pace.

“this good enough?” rhett asks, having to stop and catch his breath before he can continue speaking. he starts a slow grind, barely out and right back in, making sure link feels it when he shoves his cock deep and presses his pelvis right up against link’s ass. “could he do it better?” the legs around his waist tighten.

“want that crooner to fuck you like this?” link’s breathing changes, hitches a little around his throat, and he’s scrambling to get his fingers in rhett’s hair, on rhett’s body. they slip on his back and end up around his waist, back in his hair, down again to his belly before finally giving up and squeezing around rhett’s neck. “want him to screw you against your desk all nice and slow? or get you on your belly and hold your head down and make you feel it?”

link gasps and rhett is done with the grinding, the slow pace, and sits back, holding onto link’s thighs. link can’t get a grip on anything in time and nearly bangs into the wall behind him, moaning loud and strangled, and reaching for rhett.

it’s always a punishing pace when they’re like this. rhett can’t help it. he likes to watch link fall apart like this, a sweaty mess, mouth open around choked off and desperate sounds, back arching as rhett fucks him. and he likes it when link finally blissfully falls apart.

rhett watches link’s face contort, his brows knitting so tight he’ll have a headache later, hands searching for something to hold onto. he’s almost there and he hasn’t even been touched since rhett got him up here. rhett loves it when he’s so horny for it that he cums untouched.

this time there’s an edge to it, a sting, and rhett can’t help himself from catching link’s eye, watching when he finally focuses enough to catch on.

“he fuck you better than i can, baby?”

and link loses it, jizzes all over himself in thick spurts, seemingly never ending as rhett screws him through it and he keeps cumming, speechless with it. he clenches around rhett’s cock, still a tease even when he’s just blown his load so hard he’s probably seeing stars. rhett likes that part, too.

link starts muttering little yeah’s and come on’s, fighting the over sensitivity and squeezing around rhett’s dick to milk it out of him. doesn’t take much, he was already about there, so when link sits up and drags fingers through the mess and reaches between them to feel where rhett’s fucking him and slick him up, that does him in. his hips stutter and he moans and folds in on himself, nearly loses his footing and takes link with him.

after a moment he finds he’s got his face buried in link’s neck, breathing evening out, mouth still hanging loose in satisfaction. link’s got him held up with an arm around his back, other propping himself up on the desk so he doesn’t fall.

takes a second but he gets himself together enough to unstick himself from link’s body. his dick slips out and with it a trickle of his release. link’s quiet moan and the way his ass clenches makes him chuckle and use his middle finger to plug it back in.

“it’s so gross when you do that.”

“you love it,” rhett laughs again and link flutters around him, sighing in resignation.

his blush is back. rhett sees it traveling from his cheeks to his neck to his chest. he’s embarassed, probably a little turned on still if the way his dick gives a valiant effort at twitching is anything to go by. but overall he’s spent and he lays back.

it’s quiet for a moment as rhett just waits for link to chill, to get himself together enough to face rhett’s amused stare. when he finally looks he has this softness there, in his eyes and around his mouth, only for rhett.

“you know you’re the only one,” he states it simply, quietly, pink in his cheeks flaring up for a moment.

rhett gathers him into a hug and kisses his temple.

“as if id ever believe john mayer could fuck you as good as me,” he whispers.

“oh my god. i hate you.”

rhett shakes his head, knowing better.

“nah, you love me.”

#rhink #rhink ficlet #jealous rhett #WHAT IS THIS FUCKERY #PLEASE DONT LEAVE ME #lemon #nothing against John Mayer #I’m sure he’s lovely #let’s have some fic after a shitty week

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wherevermyway · 4 years ago

Text

you taste flamin’ hot | hyunsung | smut

pairing: han jisung x hwang hyunjin rating: explicit | 18+ warnings: explicit sexual content, awkward sexual situations, alcohol, public sex, food kink, deradation, watersports, dacryphilia. word count: 6,346 also on AO3!

originally published: 12 october 2020

Hyunjin and Jisung have no idea why they're roommates, or even friends. They're the polar opposite of each other: Hyunjin was well-pampered and high class, his platinum blond hair always well maintained, he was always draped in nice, bright, tasteful designer clothing; Jisung, however, was the exact opposite. Jisung would buy the cheapest, darkest shade of boxed black hair dye and hastily slather his hair in it, missing big patches and splattering viscous ink everywhere. He only wore black, sometimes with red accents, and would cake on eyeliner like there was no tomorrow.

Hyunjin was neat, well kept and groomed, and was a picky eater. Jisung was a sloppy mess, and practically lived off of iced americanos and spicy Cheetos. Hyunjin was a quiet, reserved drunk. Jisung was a sloppy, flirty drunk.

When they get drunk at a party one night, they finally realize that they were friends for one glaringly obvious reason: they were both incredibly sexually compatible, and Hyunjin finally had a good excuse to get messy.

disclaimer: any reference to persons in this work of fiction are purely coincidental. the characters referenced from Stray Kids are interpretations loosely based on their personalities in the group and do not represent the real people behind the personas. if this, or any of the content included in the warnings above make you uncomfortable, please stop reading now.

Crunching. That was the only thing that Hyunjin could hear as the younger man in his lap snacked on those toxic waste-like Cheetos that Jisung loved so much. They smelled briny and, not surprisingly, like they were laden with salt. Hyunjin could never understand why Jisung liked those stupid, messy, disgusting snacks so much. There was no nutritional value to them, they were overpowering, and they got absolutely fucking everywhere.

The residual red flakes from the spicy Cheetos bag stood out like a bright red highlighter on Jisung’s fingers. It didn’t bother the younger man, but it bothered Hyunjin. “Would you please go clean your disgusting fingers? Stop getting all of that shit on me.” He stared down at the bright, neon red dust and scowled.

Jisung cocked his head to the side, looking up to his senior in confusion, before he looked down to his own fingertips. “Ah, whoops,” he muttered before sticking his fingers in his mouth, rolling them around before grating the residual coating off of them with his teeth. “My bad, dude.” He immediately went back to scrolling and swiping around inanely on his phone, leaving oily, smudgy streaks on the screen.

Hyunjin groans, rolling his head into the back of the couch. “No,” he mutters, reaching down to Jisung’s phone, plucking it from his fingers and taking it away from him. “I mean, go actually wash your nasty fingers.”

“No,” Jisung mumbles, reaching up to grab his phone from Hyunjin, rolling his head in the lap of his senior. “I’ll do it later. It’s just not important now. I’m in the middle of my manga.”

Hyunjin rolls his eyes and groans. “You’re disgusting,” he says a bit louder than he intended.

“So what?” Jisung mockingly groans back, pressing the back of his head into the thigh of his senior.

“You’re disgusting,” Hyunjin repeated with emphasis, rolling his head back. “I don’t know how someone like you, so outwardly concerned about your cool guy aesthetic, is fine with being so gross.”

Jisung rolls his head back a bit, looking up to his senior. “It’s not hurting anyone, is it? Then what does it matter? Besides, I’m not that gross.”

Hyunjin sighs, sticking his hand underneath Jisung’s back and lifting him off of his lap. “Fuck you,” he grumbles as he stands up, brushing neon red crumbs off of his nice clothing. “I’m gonna have to get this shit dry-cleaned. I should make you pay for it.”

“Make me.” Jisung flopped back down on the couch, right back to the warm spot was from where Hyunjin was sitting. Without skipping a beat, he went right back to scrolling through his phone. “You wouldn’t have signed the lease with me if you were really that disgusted by me, and you know that.”

A frustrated groan erupts from the blond as he spins on his heel and storms off into his room, slamming the door behind him. He knew that Jisung was right, but he would rather walk on hot coals than admit that.

“Are you ready yet?” Jisung shouts into Hyunjin’s door. “You prissy bitch, I know you look fine. Stop fussing over your stupid hair and let’s go. I don’t wanna be late for the party.”

Hyunjin’s door flies open, and he scowls down at the black-haired man in front of him. “Like you’ve never spent hours in front of the mirror, trying to perfect your stupid eyeliner and get your bad boy look down. Sue me for wanting to look good.” He unironically flips his shoulder-length blond hair, almost as if he was punctuating his statement with sass. “Everyone’s going to be looking at me, anyways.”

The pair was an interesting duality. Jisung only wore black, would wear thick layers of eyeliner, and dyed his dark brunette hair deliberately darker: the cheapest, darkest box of black dye he could find. Hyunjin was the exact opposite: he wore only designer brands in bright colours alongside shades of cream and off-white. His hair was platinum blonde, well maintained with his monthly appointments, and had weekly manicures and facial appointments.

How the two of them got along as friends was beyond them. They shared virtually no similar interests, they butted heads all the time, and they were constantly yelling insults at each other. The thought of their sexual compatibility did cross Hyunjin’s mind several times, though. Especially on the nights when they would go out and party together. Jisung was a touchy-feely drunk, loud and experimental, and Hyunjin was quiet, loving all of the attention he got from him for it. They would recklessly flirt when they got drunk, but nothing ever came from it, because they still managed to be awkward cowards, even while hammered.

“Shall we?” Hyunjin sarcastically coos as he lightly shoves Jisung’s shoulder, pushing him out of the way.

The party, not surprisingly, was uneventful. Jisung forgot to eat something between the Cheetos incident and the start of the party, so he got drunk really quickly. About two hours in, he started doing body shots off of a couple of decent-looking guys, Felix and Chan. Hyunjin sipped on his vodka soda in the corner, enjoying his light buzz as he watched his friend be the sloppy drunk he always was.

“Jinnie!” The black-haired man called out to him, waving him over to the kitchen table he was sitting on. “C’mere, c’mere!”

Hyunjin rolled his eyes and slowly made his way over to Jisung. “What?”

Jisung hastily grabs the empty shot glass from earlier and the bottle of vodka next to him. He lays on his back, balancing it on his sternum as he tries to open the bottle without knocking it off of him.

“What are you doing?”

“I want you to take a shot off of me,” Jisung frowns up at the man as the glass falls and he attempts to stand it up one more time.

“You’re an idiot.” Hyunjin snaps at him, grabbing the bottle from Jisung. The younger man pouts, until Hyunjin grabs the glass off of him, placing it down on the table. He pulls up Jisung’s skin-tight black shirt enough to reveal his abdomen, causing the black-haired man to gasp and flush. “You take a real body shot off of skin.” Hyunjin unscrews the cap off of the bottle of vodka, then pours some of the liquid into Jisung’s belly button.

“That’s cold!” Jisung cries out, his abdomen flexing in response.

“Suck it up.” Hyunjin doesn’t say anything else as he leans down, feeling the warm heat radiating off of Jisung’s skin as he’s maybe a couple of centimetres away from his flesh. He flits his eyes up, making eye contact with a very confused Jisung. Hyunjin bites back a smirk, deliberately not breaking eye contact as he brings his lips to the rapidly warming liquid on the soft skin beneath him. He sucks up the liquid, wincing as the cheap vodka burns his throat as it goes down.

The look on Jisung’s face is priceless, but it’s made better as Hyunjin sticks out his tongue, rolling the tip of it around the bottom of Jisung’s navel, then around all of where the vodka touched his abdomen. “Oh my god,” Jisung drawls out the last syllable as he rolls his head back, letting it collide on the table with a soft thud. Hyunjin smirks to himself, knowing that was a good reaction he just got out of the younger man.

“That’s how you do a body shot.” The smirk on Hyunjin’s face causes a confused look to pass across Jisung’s face. Hyunjin knew he was finally going to fuck the life out of him tonight, and he was beside himself with excitement, thinking of making the man cry as he choked on his dick.

“We should go home,” Jisung breathes out, his chest rapidly rising and falling.

“Party’s just started.” Hyunjin smirks and takes a long swig of vodka directly from the bottle. Looks like his plan was paying off. “You sure you wanna abandon all of your friends so early in the night?”

Jisung sits up, wobbling a bit. He takes a second to reorient himself, then looks up at Hyunjin with a serious look in his eyes. “They’ll be fine. That’s not what I care about.”

“What do you want?”

“After that body shot?” Jisung bites his lip back and looks away for a moment, before looking back up to meet Hyunjin’s eyes. “You.”

“I like the way those chains slap against your ass, Sungie.” Hyunjin says, eyes trained on the back of the smaller man in front of him, entranced by the way the flimsy metal danced around his waist.

Jisung spun around and pouted at Hyunjin. “Stop looking at me like a piece of meat, Jin.” He attempts to walk backwards, but isn’t quite coordinated to pull it off drunkenly in knee-high platform boots. Jisung’s foot catches the sidewalk awkwardly, and he throws his hands in the air, waving them around to balance himself.

Hyunjin takes a long step forward, moving in to catch Jisung before he was able to tumble to the ground. The two of them make uncomfortable eye contact, and stare at each other for a beat too long. Hyunjin, without any tact, slips his hand down from the small of Jisung’s back, sliding his hand down under the chains draped from his hips, and grabs a fistful of the younger man’s ass.

Jisung lets out a whiny gasp as the firm hand makes contact with him. “Hyunjin,” he whispers in a panic, “we’re in public, what are you doing?”

“Letting people know what’s gonna be mine tonight.” The blond smirks, helping the younger man stand up. “C’mon, let’s go to GS25. I have an idea.”

Jisung’s face is a deep shade of crimson as his senior lets go of his waist and walks off without him.

The two men walk through GS25, and Jisung is about to dart off to grab a bottled americano from the cooler, but Hyunjin grabs his hand and yanks him towards the back. “What are you doing?”

“My parents own this one. It’s fine.” Hyunjin quips, still not answering Jisung’s question. He pauses in front of the staff washroom door for just a moment. “Wait here.”

“What? Why?” Jisung pleads, but Hyunjin darts off into a back room for just a moment. Jisung fiddles with his hands while he waits, clearly looking nervous as he waits for Hyunjin to come back.

Hyunjin comes back out of the door, holding a key between his fingers. He says nothing, just slides the key in the lock, opening the door and pulling Jisung in by the wrist. “Be quiet. My parents may own this place,” he locks the door behind him, then pins Jisung up against the wall, “but I don’t wanna get in legal trouble. Because I’m gonna wreck your fucking night and make a mess out of you, embarrass you so badly as we walk home. You cool with that?”

Jisung sputters incoherently, then nods his head nervously.

“No,” Hyunjin rolls his eyes, “use your words. I need to know you’re fine with the shit I’m about to do to you. I know you’re not into vanilla shit after that stint you had with Seungmin.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jisung grips at Hyunjin’s hips and he pleads with wide eyes.

“Good. Colours?”

“Yeah.”

“Good, because I wanna make you fucking cry.” Hyunjin presses his lips against his junior’s, jamming his tongue in between his parted lips. Jisung ruts his hips against Hyunjin’s, aimlessly letting his hands wander up against his cream coloured, silken shirt. The blond reaches down to his belt, undoing it and unzipping his pants. “Get on your knees.”

Jisung does as he’s told, bringing his face up close to Hyunjin’s crotch.

“I’m not gonna hold back unless you tell me to stop. Slap my wrist or my hips if it’s too much.”

Again, Jisung nods, which earns a glare from his senior. “Yeah, sure, I will.”

“Good boy.” Hyunjin coos, then pulls his cock out of his pants. He takes Jisung’s jaw into one of his hands. “Open.” Once Jisung’s opened his mouth, Hyunjin aims his cock into the younger man’s mouth, allowing him to run is tongue over him, warming up to the taste and the sensation of him.

It only lasts for a minute. Hyunjin roughly positions Jisung’s jaw right where he wants him, then takes his hand and slides it to the back of his head, gripping his hair tightly between his fingers. He slowly pushes his hips in, until he’s completely inside of Jisung’s mouth, rubbing up against the back of his throat.

Jisung’s eyes widen in panic for a moment, but then his eyelids flutter in excitement. Hyunjin takes this as an invitation to continue, pulling back and preparing himself to fuck his junior’s face like nothing more than a sex toy. “I’m not gonna stop until you cry.” Hyunjin says, then thrusts harshly into Jisung’s throat.

The younger man lets out a stifled moan, surprised as to how much Hyunjin filled his mouth. He reaches his hands up to Hyunjin’s hips and saliva comes sputtering up from his mouth as Hyunjin relentlessly continues to aggressively pound the back of his throat. It felt so good, but it hurt and he felt the tears welling up in his eyes.

“Gonna ruin that pretty face of yours,” Hyunjin pants, tugging on Jisung’s black hair a bit harder, with purpose. “Look at you, getting your face fucked in a disgusting public bathroom. I bet you love this kind of shit with how nasty you are, don’t you?”

Jisung lets out a choked affirmation, and starts to feel the tears spill from his eyes. He was secretly thankful they both had a little too much to drink, because his gag reflex had completely disappeared. He looked up at Hyunjin, meeting his eyes for just a moment before he closes them. Hyunjin grips his hair even tighter and thrusts more aggressively.

The tears start pouring, now. They weren’t tears of sadness or pain, they were tears of pure enjoyment. Jisung loved to be used like this, to be rendered as nothing more than a way to please someone. The way that Hyunjin’s cock felt in his mouth was enough to make him uncomfortably hard.

Hyunjin suddenly pulls out, relinquishing Jisung’s hair from his hands. “Don’t touch your face,” he pants out, then slips his dick back into his pants.

Jisung blinks rapidly, his moment ruined. “What? You’re not gonna come?”

“That’s for later.” Hyunjin pulls out his phone and aims it at Jisung. “Gimme a slutty face, I want a photo so I can show you how pathetic you look, and just for personal reference later.”

“Okay,” Jisung bats his eyelashes and offers a peace sign with his fingers, opening his mouth wide and sticking his tongue out.

“Beautiful, I love it.” Hyunjin stares longingly at his phone for a moment, before turning it to face Jisung. He captures a glimpse of the photo, his perfectly applied eyeliner now ruined, streaking down his face haphazardly and completely fucked up. Jisung subconsciously goes to wipe his face, but Hyunjin swats his hands away.

“Stay like that until we get home.” His voice is cold, calculated. “Don’t rub it off or try to make yourself pretty, my disgusting little Sungie. I want the strangers we walk by to know how much of a dirty slut you are for me.”

They take a moment to compose themselves, then walk through the GS25. Hyunjin doesn’t bother with returning the key, just leaving it in the door. He grabbed Jisung’s hand, interlacing his fingers together. “You sure you’re alright with this?”

“I’ve done worse,” Jisung quips. “This might be the most obvious ‘my-throat-just-got-fucked’ look I’ve ever had, though.”

Hyunjin laughs, leading him to the cooler. “Grab your stupid americano. I’m gonna grab something for us while we’re here.”

Jisung cocks his head as Hyunjin walks over towards the bagged snacks, but doesn’t question it. He doesn’t question it until he’s got his americano in hand and they are at the counter together, and Hyunjin tosses a bag of spicy Cheetos onto the counter. Jisung looks wildly at Hyunjin as the clerk gives them both a horrified look.

“What?” Hyunjin says to both of them. “Boyfriend had a rough day, just making it better.”

They get home maybe ten minutes later, earning some choice looks from passersby on the street as they walked down the sidewalk, Hyunjin’s hand down Jisung’s tight back pocket. He was wearing women’s pants, he figured, with the way they hugged his hips and his ass, and he loved it.

Hyunjin unlocks the door, letting Jisung walk through first. Jisung spins on his heel in confusion, but Hyunjin just tosses the bag of Cheetos to the younger man, then bends down to untie the intricate weaving of Jisung’s knee-high boots. “Shut up and eat them. Get that stupid red shit all over your fingers.”

Jisung’s eyes nearly pop out of his head, and he makes some sort of unintelligible noise.

“Shut up and eat your toxic waste-looking shit.” Hyunjin doesn’t bother looking up as he undoes the lacing in the first platform shoe, then moves to the next one. Jisung opens the bag, shaking his head in disbelief. He wasn’t going to turn down the opportunity for a post-drink snack, especially if it was his favourite thing and if it wasn’t going to bother Hyunjin.

Hyunjin holds the boots down, and looks up at Jisung. “Get out of these.” Jisung steps out, as requested, and Hyunjin tosses the shoes carelessly to the side before undoing his shoes. “I can’t believe you actually walked around in public with makeup streaked down your face.” He scoffs, sliding his shoes off and neatly tucking them onto the rack by the entrance. He stands fully upright and gets directly in front of Jisung, centimetres away from his face, pushing him up against the wall next to the kitchen. “You really liked it, didn’t you?”

Jisung nods twice, a single Cheeto halfway in his mouth as he stares up in confusion at Hyunjin. “I didn’t tell you to stop eating.” Hyunjin gently pushes the snack into his mouth, as daintily as possible, with a single finger. He scowls at the residual dust on his finger, then grabs a fistful of the briny, neon red sticks from the bag. “Open.” He commands, and Jisung obeys.

Hyunjin takes his free hand and tilts Jisung’s chin up, then firmly grips his jaw and holds his mouth open. He drops a few of the snacks into his mouth, letting the younger man chew them and swallow, looking up at Hyunjin with big, pleading eyes. Jisung opens his mouth again, and Hyunjin deposits the last of the snacks into Jisung’s mouth.

Hyunjin snatches the bag from Jisung, putting it down on the kitchen counter, then grabs the bottle of coffee. “Don’t clean your fingers off yet. I want you to get that shit everywhere in a minute.” He says, passing the drink to his junior, who accepts it, opening it and taking a few hasty swallows. Jisung is barely able to take his lips off of the bottle before Hyunjin is pressing his lips up against him.

Jisung practically chokes on the americano, some of the drink leaking from his lips, sputtering on to Hyunjin’s face as he barely swallows most of the cold liquid. More spills as Hyunjin assertively jams his tongue into Jisung’s mouth, spilling down his chin, spilling down Hyunjin’s chin. They were making an absolute mess out of each other and it was so wrong, but it strangely felt incredible to ruin each other.

The two of them continue to kiss for a few moments, then Hyunjin pulls away, looking down at his hand. “You know,” he says, “you’re awfully messy, huh?”

Jisung bites his lip, nodding his head in excitement. “What are you gonna do about it?”

“I’m gonna make it worse.” Hyunjin quips, leaning into Jisung’s face. He takes his tongue and drags it up the side of his junior’s cheek, repeating this a couple of times, then he takes his reddened, crusty hand and pushes it into Jisung’s cheek. He leaves a red, greasy mess tangled up in the streaks of black eyeliner on Jisung’s face.

“You look so filthy.” Hyunjin’s voice is breathy and layered with excitement as he stares down at Jisung with wide eyes. “I’m gonna take a photo of this, too.” He reaches back into his pocket, hastily snapping a couple of photos without even bothering to show Jisung. “Come on,” he pushes his phone into his back pocket “Let’s get cleaned up.”

Hyunjin steps back, letting Jisung peel himself off of the wall. Jisung takes a couple of steps forward, before he’s stopped by Hyunjin taking a fistful of his hair and pulling him along as they walk towards the washroom. “Ow!” Jisung sharply whines. “Why are you dragging me?”

“You want me to stop?” Hyunjin asks insincerely, continuing to lead the two of them along. “Didn’t hear you tell me a colour.”

Jisung whimpers. “No, I don’t want you to stop, it just surprised me.”

Hyunjin chuckles once as they approach the washroom. He flips the light on, then shoves Jisung in, pushing him into the wall with force. He crashes his lips against his junior, the nauseating taste of coffee, spicy Cheetos, and a little bit of vodka overwhelming his senses. It should distract him, make him not want to kiss Jisung at all, but it strangely drew him in, like a moth to flame.

They continue to roll their tongues around each others’ mouths, as Hyunjin works on getting them undressed. He unbuttons his nice, silky shirt, then tosses it to the side. Jisung unbuttons his pants, chains clattering as his pants and briefs collide to the ground. Hyunjin grabs the hem of the bottom of Jisung’s shirt, hastily pulling it up over his head and discarding it somewhere past his shoulder.

“Get me off,” Hyunjin demands, grabbing Jisung’s hands and bringing them to the button of his pants. “I’m gonna come all over that pretty face of yours. You’ll look so pretty with white, black, and red all over you.”

Jisung fumbles a bit with the button of Hyunjin’s pants, too distracted by the promise his senior made. He eventually undoes the button, pulling the zipper down, then helping Hyunjin shimmy out of his pants. Once they were both fully disrobed, Hyunjin grabbed Jisung by the hair and pushed him down.

“On your knees, where you belong.” His voice is stern, but also dripping in anticipation. “It’s probably not gonna take long with that pretty mouth of yours wrapped around me.” Jisung opened his mouth, presenting his tongue to Hyunjin before he takes his cock into his mouth, unprompted, but Hyunjin doesn’t complain. “Oh, that’s good,” he groans, tilting his head back.

In this moment, Jisung is like the antithesis to Hyunjin. While his senior is rough and direct, he’s more gentle and calm, enjoying taking his time with things that have a good payoff. The two of them together worked a little too well, Jisung managing to tame the wild side of Hyunjin, while Hyunjin brought out the freak in Jisung.

Hyunjin wrapped his fingers in Jisung’s hair, looking down and making eye contact with Jisung as he offered a few tiny licks at the head of his dick. It was cute, he had to admit, but he didn’t want cute, not right now. “Come on,” Hyunjin whined, “don’t be a brat and tease me. You know I’m impatient.”

A devious smirk curled up Jisung’s lips as he pulled back. “Shut up.” He barked back at Hyunjin, dropping his cutesy, quiet demeanour. “Learn how to let go for once in your life. Not everything is about instant gratification, you uptight bitch.” His lips pulled up into a wide grin as he could barely contain his excitement when Hyunjin chewed over the words he spat at him.

“'Uptight bitch'?” Hyunjin tugs Jisung’s hair, pulling his head back. “That’s awfully brash of you. Did you forget that you’re the one that’s covered in filth?”

“Bite me.”

Jisung’s attitude snaps something in Hyunjin. “Fuck you,” he growls as he tugs at Jisung’s stupidly dyed black hair harder, enough to make him squeal, to open his mouth just enough to push his cock in, all the way to the back of his throat. “This is what you wanted, isn’t it?”

The younger man starts to drool uncontrollably as Hyunjin repeatedly, aggressively thrusts his hips back and forth. “I can’t believe you had the audacity to speak that way to me. Gonna fuck your throat so hard, you’re not gonna be able to talk back to me for a week. Change that attitude of yours right quick.”

It felt good, probably the best oral he’d ever received. The people Hyunjin had been with before were usually never this experimental. He’d never felt comfortable enough to ask someone if he could ruin them in such a way. He loved taking beautiful things and destroying them; it was something he was never able to do, being forced to be such a pristine example of high-class lifestyle for his entire life.

Jisung looked up at Hyunjin with wet, teary eyes, more black streaks being painted on his face. To anyone else, it may have looked like he was truly unhappy, but the way that his pupils were blown wide open, his eyes were half closed, and the way that his dick twitched with every thrust was enough to drive Hyunjin mad.

The blond pulled his cock out of the black-haired man’s mouth, letting go of his hair, moving his hand down to his chin as he firmly held it upright. He stroked his cock feverishly as the two of them made eye contact. Jisung closed his eyes, knowing what was coming, and he opened his mouth, sticking his tongue out to catch any stray cum that would stream down his face.

“Fuck you,” Hyunjin pants as he removes his hand from Jisung’s chin, slamming his hand on the wall, his cum splashing onto his junior’s face. “Fuck your stupid face. Fuck your attitude.” He gasps in between statements, stroking the last bits of cum onto Jisung’s tongue.

Hyunjin took in the way that Jisung looked, and it took his breath away. Jisung was an absolute mess. Jisung blinked one of his eyes open a couple of times, looking up at Hyunjin. His face was covered in sloppy, patchy streaks of eyeliner, there was still some oily red flakes on his face, and now, there was cum dripping down from his forehead, rolling down his nose and eyebrows, down to his cheeks, some hanging from his lips.

That’s when Hyunjin gets an idea. He reaches down to grab his phone out of his pants, taking a couple photos. “You look so wonderful like this, a masterpiece with the last strokes of paint on you.” He tosses his phone back down to the floor and walks over to the medicine cabinet. “I’m almost done with you. Get in the shower and wait on your knees, and I’ll clean you off before we shower.”

Jisung swipes some cum off of his eyes so he can see, he slips his socks off, then shuffles over to the shower, where he obediently waits on his knees.

Hyunjin makes his way back to the shower and tosses a bottle of lube in between Jisung’s legs. “I’m gonna let you fuck me in a minute when we finally get all of this shit off of us. But I’m gonna make one last mess out of you yet, get some of that cum off of you.”

Jisung’s eyes flutter open and widen as Hyunjin towers above him, cock in hand. He suddenly realized exactly what he means. “Dude, are you seriously about to piss on my face?”

“And in your hair. Do you not want me to?”

The younger man takes in a sharp breath and closes his eyes. “I love this. Clean me off, stuck-up pretty boy.” He presents his face and opens his mouth, and the sight is almost enough to get Hyunjin hard again.

It takes a minute, but the stream weakly starts, splashing up against Jisung’s face. The sudden warmth and shock causes the younger man to flinch, but he gets into it immediately, rolling his head all around the stream and making sure that it gets all over his face and in his hair. Hyunjin lets out a strained groan as he empties his bladder on Jisung’s face, enjoying the view far more than he should’ve.

Hyunjin shakes out the last few dribbles, then drops to his knees in front of Jisung, gripping his face tightly as he pulls the younger man in for a hasty kiss. He didn’t care about the acrid taste that danced on their tongues, he just couldn’t believe that someone actually indulged him in all of his strange fetishes, all in one night, so he had to show his appreciation in some way.

“Okay,” he says as he pulls back, “let’s actually get you cleaned up, then I’ll let you fuck me.”

Jisung rubs his eyes and nods his head. “You know,” he scoffs, “you’re probably the freakiest, messiest person I know. Messier than me, just so you know.”

“Shut up.” Hyunjin stands and grabs Jisung’s hands, pulling him up to his feet. He reaches behind the younger man, turning on the shower. The water is cold, shocking both of them a bit, but then quickly warms up. “You went along with all of that,” he scoffs as he wipes off all of the mess of various substances off of Jisung, “so that says something about you, too.”

“Yeah, it means that we’re both pretty freaky and should do this more often.”

Hyunjin rolls his eyes and turns to grab a dry hand towel from off of the wall, passing it off to Jisung. “Wipe off your face so you can finally fuck me.”

Jisung takes the cloth, making sure to dry his eyelids off well enough so he didn’t have any leftover irritants on his face. “Don’t have to tell me twice.” He reaches down to grab the lube and tosses the hand towel behind him. “Now I get to have my fun with you. Face the wall and keep that pretty mouth of yours shut.”

Hyunjin lets out a scoff, but chooses not to say anything in response as he slaps his hands on the wall dramatically, slightly bending over and presenting himself.

“Don’t you look pretty like that?” Jisung flips the lid of the lube open, squirting some on his fingers. He takes another step closer, putting his free hand on Hyunjin’s hip as he takes his lubricated fingers to the older man’s rim. “You want my fingers inside you, pretty baby?”

“Yeah,” Hyunjin whines, “do your worst.”

“Maybe if you ask nicely.”

“Fuck you.” Hyunjin’s arrogance earns him the loss of Jisung’s touch.

“I’ll leave you here by yourself and just go jerk off or something.”

Hyunjin turns his head to face Jisung, a look of bewilderment on his face. “You wouldn’t.”

“Be that way,” Jisung steps back, making his way towards the shower door.

“Wait, please!” Hyunjin whines, surprised he was actually begging for this. “Please come back and fuck me, okay?”

Jisung smiles and turns back to Hyunjin, grabbing his hips and hastily slipping his index finger inside, causing the older man to whine. “Pretty bitches like you are always so impatient. You need to be taught a lesson.” He twirls his finger around a bit, circling the digit in a calculated motion to find the older man’s prostate. before Hyunjin arches his back and lets out a strangled cry. Jisung bends down next to Hyunjin’s ear and whispers, “I wanna fuck you so hard that you can’t walk straight in the morning.”

Hyunjin curls his toes a bit at the comment. “Please,” he whines, “that sounds so good, Sungie.”

“It’s nice seeing you not being such a spoiled, impatient brat,” Jisung laughs and slips his middle finger inside. “You should let loose like this more often. You might think that, just because I let you make a mess out of me, even in public,” he continues circling his fingers around the sensitive spot inside of the older man, causing him to let out pathetic mewls, “you think that I’m not going to devastate you? Nah. I’m gonna wipe that stupid, ‘holier-than-thou’ grin off your face.”

Hyunjin was honestly surprised that Jisung had such an attitude in him. He knew that Jisung was a bit of a brat, but to be so commanding was the inverse of his personality. This kind of night/day difference in Jisung was causing Hyunjin to go mad.

A third finger slips in, causing Hyunjin to throw his head back and let out a drawn out moan. It was almost too much, too soon, but there was something about the way that the discomfort of the stress made him feel so good. Jisung waited a moment for Hyunjin to adjust, to relax a bit, before he started circling his fingers again.

“I can’t believe it took you so long to admit how much you wanted me.” Jisung condescendingly coos, slowly moving his fingers around. “Can’t believe you actually begged me to fuck you. You really want my cock inside of you, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Hyunjin whispers, and Jisung isn’t very pleased with that.

“Speak up and speak nicely, otherwise my pretty little prissy bitch won’t get what he wants.“

This new side of Jisung was shocking, but also a turn-on to Hyunjin. He’d never been talked down to like this by anyone; he was always the one that took control and talked down to his partners, but it felt good to just let go for once. He had his cocky, arrogant moment, now it was time for him to be put in his place.

“Yes, please,” Hyunjin whines, resting his face against the cool tile. “Fuck your pretty little slut, please. Show me where I belong.”

Jisung lets out a laugh as he grabs the lube again, squeezing a generous amount onto his cock. “The slut gets what the slut wants, hmm?” He teases, before he slides his fingers out slowly, then replaces the empty space with his cock. He does so in such a painstakingly slow manner, that Hyunjin lets out a frustrated groan, but knows better than to say anything.

“Impatient, hmm?” Jisung grabs both of Hyunjin’s hips and bends down to be right up next to his ear. “I don’t care. I’ll take as long as I want with you.” He sinks his teeth into Hyunjin’s exposed shoulder, causing the older man to shudder. Without warning, he pushes himself all the way inside of Hyunjin and it causes both of them to make guttural, sinful noises.

“I’m getting you back for this, just so you know,” Hyunjin spits out in between pants.

“I didn’t ask you for your opinion.” Jisung bites another mark into Hyunjin’s shoulder as he slowly rocks back and forth at an even pace. “Do you always talk so much?”

“Are you always this much of a fucking tease?”

A sharp huff of air is exhaled through Jisung’s nose as he scoffs. “Alright, fine. You wanna play that game, I’ll play along.” He stands fully upright and takes a fistful of Hyunjin’s hair and pushes his face firmly up into the wall, using his head and his hip as anchorage as he moved at a relentless, unforgiving pace.

Hyunjin’s eyes roll back as his face gets repeatedly slammed into the tile wall with Jisung’s thrusts. He doesn’t intend to, but he lets out pathetic moans each time Jisung’s hips slap against his thighs.

“This is the only noise I want to hear you make.” Jisung says, pants punctuating each thrust he makes. “You talk too much.”

“Payback for how disgusting you are.”

“I don’t wanna hear it.” Jisung lets out a moan at the end of his sentence. “Okay, fuck, I’m really close. Where do you want it?”

“Don’t care. Come inside, outside, on my face, it doesn’t—“ Hyunjin is about to tell Jisung that it doesn’t matter, but, before he can finish his sentence, the younger man bottoms out behind him, and he feels cum filling up his insides.

Jisung pants and collapses onto Hyunjin’s back, loosening his grip on his blond hair. “That was so much. How are you feeling?”

“I’m pretty sure you broke my cheekbone, but we’re fine.”

“Oh, shit,” Jisung panics for a second. “I didn’t even think about trying to get you off again.”

Hyunjin rolls his eyes. “It’s fine. It would take a while anyways, I’m not lucky enough to have a freakishly short refractory period. You’ll just have to make up for it later. Anyways, can we please shower? We’re wasting the hot water and I feel disgusting and I’m pretty sure I have your nasty Cheetos flakes in my hair.”

After their shower, the men towel off and awkwardly stand in the washroom. “Now what?” Jisung questions, staring up at Hyunjin. “Are we supposed to, like, cuddle or something?”

Hyunjin looks down to Jisung, then spins on his heel before he’s able to see the inevitable blush creeps up on his face. “I don’t care. It’s pretty cold in here, so I won’t say no.”

Jisung shrugs his shoulders and follows Hyunjin towards his room. “Alright, cool, I guess.”

“That was fun and all,” Hyunjin says as he opens the door to his bedroom, “I just hope you know that you’re paying for my dry cleaning, you filthy brat.” Hyunjin says as he flops down onto the bed.

“Worth it.” Jisung quips, laying down next to Hyunjin and curling up into his chest. “I’ll pay to ruin your clothes any time you want, you prissy bitch.”

#hyunsung #smut #skz smut #han jisung x hwang hyunjin #hwang hyunjin x han jisung #hyunjin x jisung #jisung x hyunjin #wherevermyway

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