#it's the genre I'm the most familiar with
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Note
what do you think sixth wave emo will sound like?
gonna be honest i feel like even the definition of fifth wave emo is a little flimsy. it includes a mix of artists that are just continuing emo revival (4th wave) without rly changing it as well as artists who are so far removed from emo that putting them under the umbrella is a little reductive. but emo is just such a polarizing genre that if there is 1% emo in a band's sound they immediately become for emo fans only.
just real quick for any followers who don't know the waves (this is off the top of my head so might not be perfect):
1st wave (late 80s): Washington DC emotive hardcore, not very far removed from post-hardcore at all, just more focused on emotions whereas post hardcore tended (at the time) to be more political. ie rites of spring, moss icon
2nd wave (90s - early 00s): the start of "midwest emo" - develops the sound further through the influence of post-rock among other things, tends to use less distortion & gentler singing. some bands became minor successes through the post-nirvana alternative rock gold rush but many were not appreciated til way after they were active. american football, capn jazz, sunny day real estate, the promise ring, mineral, etc etc etc
3rd wave (00s): what the average person knows emo to be. often known as mall emo. crosses over with pop punk frequently. this wave saw the greatest commercial success due to strong pop songwriting and slick production. spoke to a general malaise among teenagers post 9/11. my chemical romance, AFI, the used, brand new, also includes the whole "scenecore" wave towards the end of the 00s
4th wave (late 00s - mid 10s): the "emo revival". largely a reaction against the commercialization of the genre that occurred in the 3rd wave, and a revival of a more 2nd wave sound. bands in this wave tended to put out one album on a tiny label before fizzling out, and largely found success online. they also all REALLY hated 3rd wave. the world is a beautiful place and i am no longer afraid to die, snowing, the hotelier, algernon cadwallader, modern baseball (honestly i could list 4th wave bands forever it's the wave i'm most familiar with lol)
5th wave (late 10s - 20s): online, postmodern/post-postmodern, lots of influence from genres far removed from the first four waves of emo (jazz, hyperpop, folk, noise), bedroom production, digital sounds, synthesizers, odd instrument choices, autotune, pitch shifted vocals. two of the biggest influences here are Heccra and The Brave Little Abacus (i will go to my deathbed insisting TBLA is NOT an emo band though lmao). the thing is, there are bands lumped into this wave like Home is Where or awakebutstillinbed who generally have a much more 4th wave kinda sound & very few of the traits associated with 5th wave. or Origami Angel & Mom Jeans who remind me more of later 4th wave "weed emo" bands like Jank (fuck that band tho). AND THEN there's also bands here who sound more 3rd wave, like Jhariah. i'd say the bands most emblematic of a uniquely 5th wave sound (aside from the aforementioned TBLA and Heccra) are MEEEEEEEEEEEEE (glass beach), stomach book, lobsterfight, your arms are my cocoon, nouns, weatherday.
tbh the only real common thread with 5th wave is that all of these bands are friends lmao. there are very few bands I listed there that I do not know personally, some are very close friends, and the rest are like, one degree of separation from me. i believe Bea from Home is Where was the one to codify it but critics really latched onto the term because it's every critics dream to be the first to write about a new genre right as it emerges. 5th wave's variety is largely indicative of the breakup of monoculture that's been going on since the dawn of the internet, with this sort of postmodern genre collage aesthetic that has been facilitated by the increased ease of access to ALL styles of music for everyone in the world & micro-categorization of genre on sites like rym for example. i think it's going to take putting this all into historical context to really know what comes next. any new development in emo will inevitably fit under 5th wave's very broad umbrella, and as a result MANY bands in the genre reject the term. hell, the dividing lines between all of the existing waves are extremely arbitrary and there are countless exceptions to this generally accepted categorization going all the way back to the start of emo.
at this point it is genuinely impossible for there to be a 6th wave. i'm sure we'll see some new developments, some albums that shake things up, but it will take literally redefining the genre for there to be a Next Era of Emo.
if i can try to be a little deleuzian on main i predict we will see bands push the genre forward by using the components of the more uniquely 5th wave sound while not overtly referring to fifth wave (or ANY wave) at all. it'll probably take a different setting too, possibly less bedroomy, more live, maybe a more longform classical kind of approach rather than pop structure. small ensemble orchestra + autotuned screaming? tapping guitar over endlessly looping 190BPM 909 beats? otherwise by-the-numbers midwest emo bands with vocaloid singers? rapid oscillation between all of the waves, Naked City style? emo vocals with no instrumental accompaniment whatsoever? screamo jazz? 5th Wave: The Musical? Rites Of Spring meets The Rite Of Spring? fags in skinny jeans burning american flags while Courtesy of The Red White and Blue plays on a boombox? a band that's actually a tech startup that's actually a huge ponzi scheme? Talking Heads reunites but Jerry Harrison only plays in FACGCE now? drum stems from The Black Parade echoing through an abandoned parking garage? another 9/11? Emo bands that don't play music at all and just make out with each other on stage? who fucking knows. all i know is whatever comes next, online music nerds will be crying out "this isn't emo"
sorry for the essay LMAO
79 notes
·
View notes
Text
The second chapter of Save the Cat! is about genre, titled "Give me the same thing ... only different!". The general principle is one that I strongly agree with, even if I don't always practice it in my writing: you must know how and why things work in fiction, you must be a student of the realms you're writing in, you must give your own twists on clichés if you think you might be writing them, and must be familiar with clichés so that you don't end up boring people. Study things that are like the thing you're trying to create. Analyze them, take them apart, understand how they work or don't work.
But then a lot of the chapter is taken up with Snyder's own system of ten genres, and when I was reading it I wanted to just stop him and say "hey, what the fuck, did you even watch that movie?"
Also I laughed for like five minutes at him putting Schindler's List in the "Dude with a Problem" genre, even though I agree that according to his typology it completely fits.
I'm a huge fan of making up arbitrary categories and then stuffing things into them. I don't think it's often very useful, no, but it's fun, and when you're done shoving things into boxes, you can pull them back out, find a new set of boxes, and repeat the process. I'm not going to repeat Snyder's categories here, but I think they kind of suck, and don't accurately reflect genre as we understand them, and the whole thing would have been better off is it was taking story archetypes and saying why they work and then what the usual deviations from them were.
Here are two examples that I take issue with, among others. First, by his accounting Planes, Trains, and Automobiles is a "Golden Fleece" movie, the kind of film centered around a hero's journey where what he ends up finding is, ultimately, himself, and every set piece along the way is important only in the way it relates to the hero's self-acceptance or whatever.
No. Wrong. Planes, Trains, and Automobiles is very very clearly a "Buddy Love" under this system. Look at this fucking image:
Could this DVD cover make this any more obvious? Literally all the promotional material is like this. It even says in the book that most "Buddy Love" movies start with the "buddies" disliking each other, and that their relationship is central to the movie. And if Snyder is getting this wrong, what else is he getting wrong about his own system?
Example two. I'm just going to quote it in full:
Now look at The Matrix and compare and contrast it with the Disney/Pixar hit Monsters, Inc. Yup. Same movie.
Fucking what do you mean.
Under this system of genres, Monsters, Inc. is very clearly another "Buddy Love" movie. There's a kid they have to deal with, but most of the movie is grounded in the relationship between Mike and Sulley. Like, what's the low point of the whole movie? They get banished to the Himalayas and then have a big fight! It's about their relationship to each other!
(I looked this up on the savethecat website and found an article claiming that it's an example of "Monster in the House", which is fucking stupid, because what's the monster and what's the house? Just does not apply. The child is takes the role of the "monster" for such a small amount of the movie, then they're looking after her and trying to return her home, and even before that it's not relatable as a monster to the audience. Blake Snyder didn't write the article, so maybe he had something different in mind.)
Meanwhile, The Matrix most closely falls into either "Dude with a Problem" (ordinary man thrust into extraordinary circumstances) or "Superhero" (extraordinary man in ordinary circumstances) and I would argue that it's actually neither of those because it's a goddamned hero's journey and those are their own thing and it makes no sense to try to split them into two parts because you don't get more explanatory power of what's working and what's not. His analysis of what he calls "Superhero" films also sucks for that reason and just totally misses the mark about what makes them tick.
So how are these the same movie? I don't know, it probably made sense to Blake Snyder. I have done my due diligence and searched for answers online, but haven't found much, just some weak ass defenses.
Also, I really hated that he says Chinatown and Who Framed Roger Rabbit? are basically the same movie because no shit. Who Framed Roger Rabbit? is a parody of noir, and was adapted from the script for a never-produced third film in what was supposed to be a Chinatown trilogy. But even then, I don't get how you can say they're the same movie without pointing out the strong "Buddy Love" through line in Roger Rabbit!
This whole chapter was a total miss for me. Decent advice at the start that I've been hearing and preaching for a long time, but this typology sucks and he doesn't even seem to understand it (or the movies he's putting in it) very well. And since the typology sucks, it's a bad lens for understanding the underlying rules of writing, of story structure, the components of story, etc.
29 notes
·
View notes
Text
Making playlists for the Collector and my Archivists and I don't know whether I should laugh or feel embarrassed about how much angsty 2000s rock is on these.
#anyways I'm vibrating in place someone ask me which songs are on which playlists so I can tell you about why I chose them#and the lyrics and how they relate to the character#here be my thoughts#silly#The Collector only has like one 2000s angsty song but that's simply because the lyrics are literally dead on#it's the genre I'm the most familiar with#don't worry there's rock music from other decades too#other genres? besides rock?? I don't know does that even exist? /j#hardest part of this is finding songs about emotional pain disconnected from romantic relationships#made an exception for one song that's on two playlists because I think it's vague enough to be interpreted differently#toh spoilers
7 notes
·
View notes
Text
why am i so tempted to actually try to write the flf vampire au now
#i have zero experience writing fanfic#but oh well#also this will not be solely based on twilight if it happens#and twilight obviously has a lot of issues#it's just a pretty defining book of its genre and the one i'm the most familiar with#any twilight references are going to just be parody i think#however i will likely be reading all of them#especially the genderbent one#why am i doing this to myself oh god#if anyone has any other early 2000s (or early 2000s in spirit) vampire romance that would be a good reference for this please let me know#the only other thing i can think of right now is crave by tracy wolff#also this might not actually end up happening#flf vampire au#i wonder if chloe gong has seen any of the vampire posts#terrifying idea. anyway.
10 notes
·
View notes
Note
Have you ever read a mystery novel?
is. is umineko not fulfilling that requirement. lol.
more seriously i've not really For Fun read an actual mystery novel. i studied a couple in my undergrad writing degree but anything i could have learned there i taught myself when i was in my danganronpa phase and needed to figure out how to construct a compelling mystery narrative for a fanfic. outside of that my main genre's more horror and also whatever homestuck is but i think in many cases horror and mystery are very close to being the same thing except instead of pivoting to working out a solution to the conundrum halfway through the story in a horror novel the mystery remains unsolved and people start dying instead. a lot of the things i'm into i was drawn to due to overarching mysteries and unanswered questions so my preferred mode of engagement with fiction Is stuff that expects you to be trying to figure out what's going on as you read even if this does not necessarily take the form of the conventional mystery genre.
#cheyj05#i'm very familiar with the generic mechanics of intrigue and misdirection and obscured reveal#but not so with the specifics of the genre where this is deployed the most
8 notes
·
View notes
Text
internet brainrot by tdstr is part really cool interesting hardcore techno and part memefest. and as someone who, i feel, has really engaged with meme-heavy musical compositions that still take themselves seriously, i kind of prefer the memeless side of music. i think the point of dariacore is to heavily use obnoxiously memetic samples on top of the general intense hardcore sound. i seriously like the high tempo, varied melodies, heavy bass & intense percussion- all the hardcore side of it. i like hardcore edm that uses lots of samples. and i like music that is just memetic samples into music (see neil cicierega's mouth albums). but with this album i kind of think that the hardcore edm side would stand better on its own or with less of the meme Culture bogging it down. it's when it starts leaning into irony stylings or reveling in some subculture/fandom's iconography that i think it loses me. another station was a really great track but then when damn right came on and i heard familiar sample after familiar sample bring me into something with no hablo americano as its leading sample i got pulled out. and damn right is a pretty good track, i like it a lot! it's just the swing of the focus kind of prevents me from getting into the right mindset to enjoy self-serious hardcore edm or bite-sized high-effort melodic shitpost-inspired music. in short, this album lives up to its title, and it's almost disappointing for that. it's like i went to someone's house and in order to make me feel comfortable they had their computer open to tumblr with my account logged in. like oh i wasn't aware that's how you decided to do things around here
#this is maybe not my most coherent review. trust me it's not the fault of this album#i feel like i'm seriously well qualified to review dariacore considering i take music seriously and i have such experience with#the sort of musical memespace that's come out of siivagunner + soundclown#i'm going to have to look into more albums in this genre. by the way i had no idea this is what dariacore was#i'd heard the name tossed around a fair amount before without knowing what it sounded like#music reviewssic#i haven't reviewed it but i've listened to because maybe as well as other releases by renard/lapfox tracks#and i was reminded of it by this album. with the sample-heavy hardcore edm that seems sooorta like#speedcore? not breakcore. i'm saying ''hardcore edm'' a lot because i don't know what subgenre to refer to#bet if i listened to enough camellia i'd get an idea#the difference being that. i think in the time of because maybe internet subcultures did not go as deep as they do now#or if they did go as deep as they do now they didn't also have the scope of today's#there are siiva-derived communities that are kind of ''deep'' into internet subcultures that still have a following#rivaling that of more average internet communities circa 2010. that's how it feels at least#when i listen to because maybe &c i'm like ah i recognize these samples because they're pop culture#not fully pop culture but definitely pop culture to ''the internet''- sonic 2/retro games & mcr & maximum the hormone#when i listen to internet brainrot. well now. the title speaks for itself like i said#also sprach#i think im just made uncomfortable for being met so squarely at my own level of internet familiarity by something as impersonal as an album#like this album isn't just in an adjacent level of internet depths resided in it's kind of slotted into the exact same section that i'm in#...again. i need to listen to more dariacore#c u thru the q#my final word is that i prefer an album that i don't have to adjust the volume on between songs. god this got loud
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
꒰ :🥀 [ Till death do us part ] ”♡ᵎ꒱ˀˀ ↷ ⋯
Summary : What if Alastors dear little darling wife, his partner in crime, the person he thought he'd never see again, turns up with Mimzy on the day of the visit of the big boss of hell.
Pairing : Alastor x fem! Reader
Word count : 1899 Words
Genre : Fluff , Drama , Angst
Warnings ➵ Mentions of death, you're shorter than
Vaggie, possessive Alastor, swearing
Prequel -> > The radio star lost <
a/n : I love this trope ngl, tried to not make him to much out of character, hope it worked.. T T
Also I'm rather new to Hazbin Hotel, so I say sorry if anythings seems wrong or out of character! ><
┌───────────────────────── · · · · ♡
The whole hotel was a bit chaotic right now, Lucifer himself would be visiting in just a bit and Charlie wanted everything to be perfect. Colorful decorations were hanging everywhere, a banner was hung up for welcoming the king of hell, how does one even welcome the king of hell into their hotel? Charlie was probably the most stressed of all, but Vaggie did her best to calm her nervous wreck of a girlfriend down.
The moment Lucifer stepped into the hotel was meant to make everything go down, Alastor and his Ego had somehow always a snarky remark against Lucifer. Charlie tried her best to keep them apart, introducing her other friends, before she announced how she would be needing his help. And again the banter between the king of hell and the radio demon started all over again. As if throwing insults at each other before wasn't enough already, now they were pulling at Charlie left and right, like two babies fighting over a toy.
But all things come to an end, which Charlie was thankful for right now, as Mimzy, apparently a friend of Alastor, which was interesting to know he even had any, came barging in with a grand entrance. As the woman now settles down at the bar, talking with the others, Alastor and Charlie took Lucifer on a walk around, Husker disappearing for a second too, but soon joining them at the bar again, a scowl on his face, but something else, undescribable behind his eyes.
A bang was heard through the whole hotel as the entrance door was slammed open and heard could be an angry voice. "MIMZY! You little bitch!" A demon, a slight bit shorter than Vaggie probably, walked in. A scowl evident on the face, as her eyes scan over the place, before falling on the woman she was looking for. "How dare you leave me in the shit like that?! You've got it coming if those sharks don't kill you, I certainly will!" Ignoring the questioning looks of Angel and Husker, you stomp over to the blonde, ready to yank at her hair, when suddenly a bit of debris was thrown through the window and landed beside you, barely missing you by a hair. "The fuck?" The demon's head craned around, looking out the window and there they were, those fuckers Mimzy was in debt to.
You didn't really have time to react much, as three people stormed into the entrance hall, all you could catch was a glimpse of red before the person ran outside, screams of the sharks could be heard, at least those were finally taken care of.
The loan sharks were gone and fought off quickly by that person, his voice now directed to Mimzy, your own eyes on her yourself with a scowl. She and that red demon apparently knew each other quite well, as Mimzy was walking to the door, you finally really looked at the demon. He had short red and black hair, ears sat atop his head, despite scowling Mimzy he was smiling, though a sinister smile it seems. His attire was almost completely red too, a cane was clutched in his hands, as he watched Mimzy walk off, you could only make out a small part of his face. The man seemed so familiar as if you had known him for a long time.. Your heart was running a mile right now, it was getting hard to breathe, and then...
"Thank you Alastor, really.." The long-haired blonde spoke up.. That name, it couldn't be right? Mimzy would've told you, she knew him, she would've definitely told you.. right? You must be mistaken right now.. Your eyes were fixated on the man called Alastor, the voices and sounds around you were all a mush, drowned out as your brain was going all around. Now that you could see his face, he definitely had some resemblance to him.. to your late husband, who had died before you. You were his assistant, his partner in crime, when the news hit you that he was shot, it broke your heart, but still, you continued on alone, killing. That's probably what also got you to hell, well sooner than later you were figured out and soon arrived here in hell.
"Yo smiles, this girly is gawking at you for minutes now." Slowly voices were coming back to you, the white spider beside you talked, pointing his thumb at you, the red-haired now meeting your eyes, his ears straightening and standing alert like the ones of a deer caught in headlight. What irony if he was your Alastor, the irony of dooming him with deer-like features, after getting shot assumed for a deer while hiding one of the many bodies. That day you decided to let him go alone, oh if you just hadn't done that, maybe you both would be alive or you would've at least arrived together in hell.
Alastor was taking slow steps to you, the smile on his face looking strained, yet it never disappeared, his hand was reaching out for you but stopped. Eyes moving over your form, taking in everything. Resemblance to his wife evident, but.. how did he never notice you before? Had he ever met you, walked past, maybe even taken a second glance but dismissed this feeling he has right now.
Swiftly he grabs your wrist, dragging you behind him, ignoring the calls of his name of the other residents, his mind plagued by one only thought, more like one only person.. you.
Stumbling behind him, his grip rather firm on your wrist, yet it felt comforting as if you knew he would never hurt you. Not in your lifetime and also not now in your afterlife. Eyes watching the back of his head, you were wondering what expression his face harbors right now. Was he happy? Was he confused? Disappointed? Maybe he knew where you were all this time but didn't want to meet you. No, he wasn't like this. He may have been distant sometimes while alive, but in the end, he was always a darling to you. Taking care of you, just as he vowed on your wedding day. A distant memory, yet one of the most beautiful ones you have.
A door was opened and as you were pulled inside, the door closed. Steps echoed through the room, you noticed a forest on the other side of the room, but that didn't rather faze you, eyes on him again.. and him only. "Al-" You were interrupted by laughter, the man before you was hugging himself, his arms around him, yet you still weren't able to see his face. "D-Do you know.. How often have I thought about you?!" His voice was loud, a static sound like from a radio accompanied it. One of his hands was tearing at his hair now. "That bitch never told me... I'll make sure to kill her for that.. She kept you from me.." The laughter got even louder, as if the man before you was going insane.
This behavior was nothing new to you, he used to be like this, high on adrenalin when another murder was successful.. Or when he was close to being figured out by the police and detectives, yet he always slipped away right through their incapable fingers.
"I always wondered what happened to you, if you grew old with someone new.." If you were able to see his face right now, you would be able to see the sinister yet possessive smile on his face, his eyes darting around the room.
This all ended in a second when he felt a soft hand on his. He knew this hand, he also knew the person it belonged to like the front of his pocket. "I would never, I carried on alone in your memories, yet I was never as skilled as you darling, so sooner than later they connected all the dots to me." A low chuckle could be heard again, the static radio sound calmed down again too. The tall man slowly turned around now, his hand engulfing your own, his fingers softly running over your own, before he linked them together. How he had missed this feeling, despite having a distaste for people touching him, you were different. Your touch felt warm, like the summer sun kissing his skin, it felt comforting.
"I've missed you mon amour.." His voice was soft, probably the softest it had ever been since he had arrived in hell. His hand guides yours up to his lips, as he closes his eyes and presses a soft kiss to the back of your hand, a smile, now softer, on his lips. He was never one for kissing you on the lips, he definitely favored kissing your hand, like the gentleman he has always been. "I figured with how you were talking seconds ago my dear.." A soft smile was creeping up onto your lips too, mirroring his own one. Red eyes open again, your hand still pressed to his face, but now he was rather holding your hand to his cheek. "Oh how I wished I could've stayed with you my darling, we would've been so successful.." Giggling at his words, with him at your side, you probably would have been going for a long time. "But who says we can't be successful now?" A smirk etched its way onto your husband's face, oh how he loved your daring little mind, always thirsting for blood. With you by his side again now, he would definitely be able to get everything done that he wanted.
"Shall we go back? I want to meet your friends properly." Wanting to pull away your hand, he softly gives you a tug, your head landing on his chest now. Wide eyes look the the side now, as you weren't really able to move, his arms having snaked around you and his chin resting on your head. This was unusual much physical contact, but figured that you hadn't seen each other for multiple decades he yearned for your touch just a slight bit. Your arms lying around him, embracing the hug. "Let's just stay here a few minutes more, we got enough time to introduce you to everyone down there but for now.. let me have you for myself." Nodding softly, your head rests on his chest, as your eyes close and you simply enjoy the presence of your dearly beloved husband.
"What do you mean 'married to smiles'?!" Angel, as he was introduced to you, shouted from his place on the couch now, staring at you flabbergasted. "We've been married for quite a few years before his death." Smiling you answered his question. Alastor didn't like all the attention you were getting, but sooner than later he would have you all to himself again when you two go back to his cozy hotel room or the radio tower. "So you two fu-" Angel wasn't even able to finish his question before he shut himself up as he noticed the look on Alastors face. This time he would've been dead for sure if he finished that question.
Overall everyone invited you happily into their little hotel family, it was amazing. Charlie immediately took a liking to you and if you're being honest she quickly was viewed by you like a daughter.
#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin#hazbin alastor#hazbin hotel#alastor x you#alastor imagine#alastor#alastor x reader#x you#x reader#imagine#imagines#hazbin hotel imagine#hazbin imagine
8K notes
·
View notes
Text
HOW TO GET OUT OF A READING SLUMP
Inspired by how I'm currently trying to read again.
START SHORTER. Try to read something manageable for you, and it doesn’t have to even be a full novel. It could be an essay on something that interests you or any short stories you find. Get into the habit of reading at your own pace, till you feel ready to take on something bigger.
SET REALISTIC GOALS. Instead of wanting a goal like completing a book within a week, I would say 20 minutes of reading per day or at least 2 hours per week. You don’t have to track the time when you’re reading, but make mental notes of when you start reading and how long you read.
EXPLORE. You may even be tired of reading certain genres, and not notice it. While in a slump, I would explore different books and see what interests me the most. For example, if you love reading romance books, try some action ones instead(or vice versa.)
REREAD FAVES. The familiarity of some books can help us get back into the swing of reading. Every time I reread a book, I always pick up on new details that I didn’t notice before. Reread one of your favourite books and try to spot details that you didn’t spot before.
MAKE A LIST. Create a list of all the books that you want to read or reread. I feel like the process of seeing all the books you could, really encourages you to pick up that book.
TRY A DIFFERENT FORMAT. For a lot of us, reading paperback or hard copy is the way to go. However, when I’m in a slump, I feel like opting for a different format helps me to get back into reading. For example, a digital book, or an e-book. (or vice versa)
READ IN A DIFFERENT ENVIRONMENT. I love LOVE, reading in an actual library. It is not for everyone, but a change of scenery can help. Some ideas can be at a park, a cafe, beaches and or a nature trail.
PAIR READING WITH ANOTHER ACTIVITY. Some examples are exercising, cooking, travelling/commuting or doing mindfulness activities. This is more for getting back into the habit, once you’ve got it again, I would say to focus only on reading.
#winter arc#prettieinpink#becoming that girl#that girl#clean girl#green juice girl#it girl#green juice aesthetic#dream girl#girl blog#girlboss#hot girl semester#girlcore#girly stuff#it girl energy#just girlboss things#pink pilates girl#girlblogging#wonyoungism#glow up era#ask#glow up#self impowerment#self improvement#self importance#self help#self care#self confidence#self development#self growth
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
˖˙ ᰋ ── hyunjin messes up and kkami helps him apologize
﹙ʚɞ˚﹚. genre: fluff (might be the cutest thing i wrote recently)
﹙ʚɞ˚﹚. a/n: this is definitely inspired by the new book i'm obsessing over right now so pls enjoy and let me know what you think!! <33
“Well, well, look who finally remembered he has a loving partner missing him at home.”
You hear Hyunjin sigh on the other end, sheepish, obviously expecting you’d cut him some slack for disappearing for days, like talking to him wasn’t the best part of your day. Touring was hard, and he’s been insanely busy from day one – you get it. That’s why, your tone’s more playful than intended, only being able to let the phone ring for two heartbeats before rushing to answer and let his velvety voice bring sunshine back into your dull life.
“Hello, the absolute love of my life I think about daily.” He clears his throat, brushing over your comment in hopes you’re not truly upset he hasn’t called in so long. Two days weren’t a big deal, but for clingy people like you and him, going 48 hours without hearing what the other has been up to was torture. It was just enough time for insecurity to creep in, feeding you lies upon lies about how he’d forgotten your relationship and was currently in the process of replacing you with someone else, someone better and more worthy of owning his heart.
Your heart flutters, a grin finding its way onto features despite your attempts at stopping it. “Hello, Hyunjin.”
“Who the fuck is Hyunjin?”
No longer able to keep the happiness at bay, you burst out laughing, the aggravation clear as day in the absence of his usual pet name. Hyunjin was your baby, nothing else. His name only ever left your pretty lips you couldn’t wait to press against his only when the situation called for seriousness.
Settling down, you ignore his displeased huffing. “The guy who hasn’t called me in a week. You might know him.”
You’re teasing. You both know it, just like he knows that behind your words, the only genuine thing is the longing and the wish to have him close again, missing the steady beat of his heart and his familiar warmth that usually lulled you to sleep, badly. Hyunjin has always been great at reading between the lines, figuring you out easily, like you were nothing more than an unchallenging puzzle he could solve with his eyes closed.
“A week? I know I messed up, love, but it’s only been two days. Not even, just about 45 hours.” You hear sheets rustling on the other end, helping you picture him lounging about in the hotel bed, hair most likely still damp from his previous shower. For once, the time difference was not absurd, allowing you to stare wistfully at the moon with certainty the other was doing the same, sharing stories of your love and trusting she’ll keep them safe.
“You counted?” You giggle, making yourself more comfortable on the couch, right next to Kkami who is sleeping soundly.
“I’ve been counting the hours until I can see you again the second I stepped outside our apartment.” He confesses, voice suddenly heavy with emotion before he gasps, ruining what could have been a sweet moment. “You’re telling me you haven’t?”
Of course, you have. Time seemed to go by incredibly slowly whenever he wasn’t near, the increasing distance causing his magnetic pull to grow weaker each day, but never diminishing, never losing its hold on you. That was impossible.
“No.” You lie blatantly, leaning back against the couch casually, one hand moving to slowly pet Kkami’s head whose slumber gave him the perfect excuse to ignore you.
“Liar.”
For the first time in your life, the fact that he knew you like the back of his hand was annoying.
“Don’t change the subject! You’re still not in the clear for forgetting about me for two whole days, Hyunjin.” You’re not actually mad, just feeling a little bit neglected. Hyunjin has never gone MIA like that, without even texting you brief updates throughout the day just so you’ll know he was still alive and kicking. Your boyfriend was thoughtful, sweet, and considerate – the radio silence you got for the past two days was very unlike him.
“I didn’t forget.” He counters, and you’re sure he’s shaking his head vehemently, denying all of your accusations. “I could never forget, not in this lifetime or any others.”
“Liar.” You mock him, making a face he can’t see and tease you about like he’d usually do. “You could have texted, at least. Let me know you’d be busy.”
“I’m sorry, love.” His voice is soft, apology genuine as can be when he doesn’t try to justify himself or find excuses. Hyunjin is aware that if the roles were reversed, he’d feel the same way you’re feeling right now, the anxiety and worry eating at him from the inside and leaving behind a restlessness he couldn’t shake off no matter how hard he tried to. And he does, to an extent. Not being able to contact you drove him on the brink of insanity, making him moodier and more difficult to work it, which was so unlike him.
“Can I talk to Kkami?” He adds, trying to make it up to you in his own, creative way you’ve come to love.
“What?” You can’t help but laugh, not sure you heard him right.
“Pass the phone to Kkami for a moment, please?”
Now you’re curious, wondering what that beautiful mind had in store for you this time. You’ve been dog-sitting Kkami since he left, sending him regular updates in hopes of brightening up his day and keeping the homesickness at bay. Your camera roll has been full of pictures and videos of Kkami - walking him, playing together and being cute just for Hyunjin’s delight. A small price to ensure your boyfriend’s everlasting happiness.
“Should I leave you two alone? Give you some privacy?”
He laughs, and you hear the sound of a bag zipping up. “Yes. This is just between us boys, sorry baby.”
Shaking your head with a smile, you do as he asks, lowering the phone close to Kkami’s ear like the pup could actually catch Hyunjin up on what’s been happening around the house since he left. At the sound of his owner’s voice, Kkami’s eyes open as his ears perk up, visibly excited to hear him after so long. With his tail waggling, Kkami listens attentively to whatever Hyunjin is telling him, sleep long forgotten as you start giggling next to him, not believing your eyes.
Kkami was not an affectionate dog, often biting or growling at your lover like he was sick of him. Hyunjin’s presence and fussing were a bore, the dog quickly growing tired of his excited nature, even though your boyfriend was the person he loved most in the world.
That’s exactly why, you’re taken aback when he sprints off the couch, running a lap around the living room before returning to jump at your feet, barking and licking the hand closest to him excitedly.
Dumbfounded, you bring the phone back to your ear laughing. “What did you say to him? He’s suddenly so happy to see me.”
“He’s groveling in my stead. I told him to show you how much I miss you.”
Your heart melts, and suddenly he’s all forgiven as tears well up in your eyes. “Hyun…”
“Actually, I asked him if he wanted a treat.” Your tears get absorbed right back as a laugh bubbles out of the both of you, with Kkami jumping into your lap to beg properly. “I guess he figured I wasn’t there to give him some, so now he expects them from you.”
“You set me up.” You say, voice laced with playfulness as you stand up, scooping Kkami with one hand to fulfill his request. A true glutton, he’d never forgive you if you denied him his beloved snacks.
“Maybe. But my words had the desired effect.” His tone is softer now, and you can hear the smile in his voice. “You’re laughing.”
Yet, the joy didn’t reach its full potential, and never will with hundreds of miles between you. Happiness in its truest form found you in a handful of moments, and for most of them, Hyunjin was right by your side, fueling you with the love and devotion he held for you and you alone. He made you happy like nobody else, helping you see color even on the darkest days. Your beloved loved painting, that’s what he did, you just never thought he could bring forth his talent and make you see beauty in everything, guiding you to see the world through his eyes that always sparkled like he held the entire galaxy in them.
“Baby.”
Hyunjin gasps so loudly, almost like he is on the verge of bursting with happiness, matching Kkami’s energy to a T, ready to jump through the phone to feel your love and affection again.
“Can we facetime? I miss your beautiful face.” You add once Kkami is back on his own paws, devouring the stinky treat in your hand as you crouch to his level.
“Facetime? Love, I’ll literally catch the earliest flight and be there in record time! This little screen isn’t cutting it anymore, I need to see you with my own eyes before I get so desperate I start walking back just to be in your arms!”
And that is your cue to get on a plane first and finally visit your boyfriend before he keeps his word and ends up at your doorsteps with nothing but a duffle bag and a sob story about how much he missed you to justify his careless actions.
#stray kids#skz#skz x reader#stray kids x reader#stray kids fluff#stray kids headcanons#skz headcanons#stray kids fanfic#stray kids imagines#skz fluff#stray kids soft thoughts#stray kids soft hours#skz fanfic#skz x you#stray kids x you#hwang hyunjin x reader#hyunjin imagines#hyunjin x reader#hyunjin fluff#hyunjin x you#hwang hyunjin x you#hwang hyujin imagines#hyunjin soft thoughts#hyunjin scenarios
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
pieces of you
single dad!chan. x fem!reader
genre : neighbors!au. fluff. angst. slow burn. mutual pining. 8.7k wc
summary : In which you and chan are each other's missing pieces. Alternatively, Chris and his daughter come knocking at your apartment asking for flour, and he's no longer embarrassed when you open the door.
a.n. : my chris best girl dad agenda is going strong!!!!!! my second fic for the winter falls collab with my writer xi hehe i hope you will all enjoy reading!! feedback is highly appreciated 🤍 the song chris will write for sowon is light by sleeping at last, highly recommend listening to it!!
winter falls masterlist.
i.
“I can’t believe you’re making me do this.”
“Shh, daddy smile.”
Soft murmurs linger just beyond your door, elusive words that could easily be dismissed as figments of your imagination. However, any doubt in your mind dissipates with three resounding knocks, jolting you from your momentary contemplation.
A reluctant groan escapes you as you glance down at your attire—a loosely hanging oversized hoodie, a testament to the numerous times it has been tugged down, and a pair of pajama pants whose matching top has mysteriously vanished. Clearly, you don't feel presentable enough to welcome anyone at this late hour. So, you remain motionless, futilely lowering the TV volume in hopes that whoever's behind the door will just continue with their night. But the knocks persist against your wish, so, with a resigned sigh, you rise from your seat, your blanket cascading to the ground in a soft descent.
“What–” the words dissolve in your mouth like a sweet nectar as you open the door, your eyes beholding no one in your periphery. A slight tug at your pants draws your attention downward, only to find the most adorable child your eyes have ever laid on. She's clad in Rapunzel-themed pajamas, wolf slippers bumping into your plain ones, and, to your surprise, a whisk cradled in her small hand.
“Hey there,” your voice softens as you crouch to meet her warm gaze. You find an innocent happiness gleaming in her eyes, a radiant spark shining even beneath the corridor's muted light. Two dimples adorn her cheeks as she smiles at you.
“Hi, my dad wants to tell you something,” she says, pointing with her whisk to the very end of the hallway. You crane your neck, trying to catch a glimpse of the elusive figure.
“Your dad?”
“Mm. He’s a bit shy, that’s why he’s hiding,” she confides in a whisper. But, despite her earnest attempt, her words still resound loudly in the vacant space, causing giggles to spill out of your mouth.
“And you aren’t shy?” you inquire, tilting your head.
“Nu-uh,” she shakes her head with conviction as someone emerges behind her. She instinctively wraps an arm around their leg, nestling her cheek against their thigh.
She isn't shy because she feels protected.
You rise from your place, eyes locking with a familiar shade of brown. Only these hold a mesmerizing quality to them making your very breath catch in your throat. Kindness pours from his gaze as it travels down your face, a sentiment that further materializes as delicate smile lines stitch around the corner of his eyes.
He’s beautiful.
Your eyes trail down to two pairs of dimples, mirroring the ones of his daughter perfectly. She is his living portrait, sharing his eyes, lips, and smile. Yet, his cheeks blush in a hue she does not possess, while his left hand fiddles with his earlobe, in an unspoken, timid gesture. For some odd reason, it pierces straight through your heart.
“Sorry for bothering you,” a smooth Australian accent rolls off his tongue, similar to rich butter spread on warm bread- it infuses your being with tingles pulsating from the base of your toes. You suddenly no longer miss your blanket.
“I'm your next-door neighbor. We were just making cookies and we realized we actually don’t have flour,” he explains, a bashful smile imprinted onto his lips.
“You didn’t check beforehand?” you ask, laughter tinting your voice.
“I forgot,” he admits, but his tone sounds almost sad as if beating himself over it. A fleeting shadow veils his face briefly, dissipating like a passing cloud grazing the sun.
“Can we borrow some from you? I told Sowon that we could go to the store but she said it’s too cold out,” he asks, his hand resting on his daughter’s shoulder soothingly.
“It is too cold out,” you agree with a frown, looking down at Sowon to which she smiles brightly, happy to have your support.
“And of course, I'll bring you flour. Don’t worry about it. Do you want to come in meanwhile?”
“It's okay, we'll wait here. Don’t want to intrude.”
“Thank you!” Sowon beams, her missing tooth in full display.
“Yeah, thank you so much…” he trails out, tilting his head as if to silently inquire about your name.
“Yn. And you?”
“Chris.”
“Nice to meet you, Chris,” you smile, shaking his extended hand. His fingers wrap around your palm, and it feels as if you’re grasping thunder, crackling with an electricity that your eyes can’t behold, yet your soul does, suddenly illuminated from within.
Your smile grows as you detach yourself from his hold, before bending forward to bop Sowon’s nose. “And nice to meet you too Rapunzel.”
Your words make her hide behind her father’s leg, peeking out slightly to look at you.
“See I'm not the only one who gets shy,” Chan chuckles, and Sowon whines in complaint, further burying her face in her dad’s grey sweatpants.
Adorable, so much it stirs a long-forgotten melancholy within your being.
“She gets a pass, she's still young, right Sowon?”
“Are you calling me old then?” Chan fakes outrage, bringing one hand to his chest while the other cradles Sowon’s back.
“Old enough to forget about flour,” you wink and he laughs, looking down at your slippers.
“Touché.”
A few minutes go by before you come back, a recipient full of flour in your hands. The sight before you makes you pause in your tracks– Chris, leaning against the wall, Sowon propped on his hip, her arms loosely hanging around his neck, her eyes closed.
“Did she…” you whisper and he turns to you.
“Yeah, fell asleep,” he smiles fondly, tucking a few strands of her hair behind the curve of her ear. “She’ll be disappointed when she wakes up to no cookies. She wanted us to have a baking holiday tradition.”
“You don’t know how to make them?”
“No, I was counting on a six-year-old to assist me,” he chuckles quietly, prompting a snort from you.
“Well, keep the flour, in case you need it again.”
“Thank you, Yn,” he grins, the smile taking over his entire face, grabbing the recipient from you.
“You’re welcome Chris,” you say, as you both linger around the door still, not making any attempt to move.
Your eyes refuse to peel away from his, as if there were a magnetic force drawing you to him, telling you that your gaze belonged to rest on him.
“Uhm,” he clears his throat, leaning away from the wall. “I'll get going.”
“Yeah, sleep well, Chris.”
“Thank you,” he smiles before turning around.
An idea brews in your head, a germ sprouted by the clear adoration in which Sowon gazed at her dad, and the disappointment in his face as he said he would no longer be making cookies. Had you wished to dig a little deeper, you would’ve also found a long-buried feeling of a little girl who would have loved holiday traditions as well. You close the door before heading straight to your kitchen.
One hour later
You knock softly on Chris’ door, fidgeting from one foot to another. You almost retract back to your apartment after your fourth knock, when the door finally opens, Chris coming into your line of sight.
“Hi,” you greet, hands behind your back.
“Hey,” he smiles, leaning his arm on the doorway, right above your head. He tilts his head to the side, silently wondering what you want. The words dissolve in your mouth at the way his eyes fixate on you as if trying to peer behind your irises onto your mind.
“Cookies,” you bring the plate before him, as his eyes grow wide, an incredulous smile drawn on his lips.
“You made them?”
“Yeah, didn't want Sowon to be disappointed,” you shrug and his eyes grow wild, racking all over your face in disbelief.
“You didn't have to do this,” he finally says, tone softening, syllables ringing like a sweet sonnet in your ears.
“I know. I wanted to. and I'm a baker so making cookies comes easily to me, don't worry about it,” you shrug sheepishly, biting your lower lip slightly. You felt scrutinized by him in ways you haven't felt before.
“Thank you, Yn, I don’t even know what to say,” he says, his smile resembling a beam of light. A surge of pride courses through you at managing to bring it forth.
“No need to say anything. I hope I didn't wake you up,” you smile sheepishly and he shakes his head.
“No, I- I was working in my studio and Sowon is asleep. It's just us two. Always has been,” he adds, tone slightly changing, air growing heavier between you both. It's just them two.
“Studio?” you inquire, hoping to dispel the tension latching around you both.
“I'm a music producer,” he clarifies. “I made a studio here so I could stay the night with Sowon.”
“I'm sure she appreciates that,” you say as you hand the plate to him. His fingertips brush against your own, and a slight electricity courses through you at the touch, the hallway suddenly brighter from the fireworks ricocheting off of you both.
“I…. I'll get going.”
“Yeah, yeah, don't want to take more of your time.”
“I'll see you around.”
“Yeah, I'll see you,” he says, words not ringing carelessly into the air, sounding more like a promise. He'll see you, he'll make sure of it.
ii.
“Can you wait!” a voice echoes near the building entrance, and you prevent the elevator doors from closing as hurried steps near you.
You recognize the voice easily by the light tingles running down your spine, the Australian accent shooting straight through your heart. Its owner materializes, Chris— leather jacket hugging his muscles snuggly, black t-shirt tucked into a pair of blue jeans, cap nestled on his head, rebellious strands of ebony hair peeking behind it.
You find the breath knocked out of you once again at his sight. He's beautiful, even more so in broad daylight, where every feature of his comes to life, beckoning, demanding your sole attention.
“Hey, Yn,” he smiles in delight, uttering your name in a familiarity that infuses your being with warmth. Even though you've only talked once, two days ago.
“Hey, Chris,” you greet back, pressing the fourth elevator button again. you face the mirror to find Chris already looking at you, his eyes instantly locking with yours.
“The cookies were good,” he smiles softly and you grin. “I'm glad you think so.”
“Where is your bakery? I need to taste more of your baking.”
The butterflies in your stomach tone down at his words, your attraction momentarily forgotten as gratitude coats your heart instead.
“I can text you the address?” you propose.
“Yeah, here,” he takes out his phone, a picture of him and Sowon set as his lock screen— their cheeks are pressed tightly to one another, messily done eyeliner on both their eyes. you giggle to yourself as you grab the device.
“Cute picture,” you muse and he brings an arm to his neck, scratching the side of it timidly.
“She insists on trying her makeup on me.”
“She makes you look better,” you giggle and he rolls his eyes, tongue poking against his cheek.
“She wants to become a stylist,” he explains, as the elevator doors open. He lets you out first, arm stretched forward.
“I find her passion really cute so I buy her anything she asks for,” he shrugs and you chuckle, pointing to the bag of pink ribbons he is carrying.
“Let me guess, she wants to use these on you?”
“Yeah. She also said that I quote ‘need to learn new hairstyles because her friends always come to class with intricate braids, and she can't go to class with a simple one.’” He repeats, tone growing slightly high-pitched as he mimics his daughter's words. Yet, the fond smile on his face is louder, screaming of his love for her.
“She has you wrapped around your finger,” you muse, leaning against your door. The keys in your bag are long forgotten.
“She can be very scary for such a little girl.”
“What does she threaten you with?” you ask, feigning horror.
“No goodnight kisses,” he whispers, as if scared she'd hear him beyond the wooden door.
“Torture,” you gasp, placing your hand on his shoulder reassuringly. Yet, the smiles slip out of your face instantly. Was it normal for clothes to dissolve under your touch, layers of cotton and leather doing nothing to stop the warmth of his skin from seeping through you? Was it normal to be so affected by such an innocent touch?
“Uhm,” you clear your throat, “I can help you. with her hair, I mean.”
“You don't have to. I already took too much from your time with the cookies,” he seems truly apologetic, his tone sobering as if despising others doing things for him. You see yourself in him, in the way he wants to carry the world’s burden on his shoulders. It is a reflection you wish to mend.
“I don't mind, I remember feeling jealous of the other girls in my school so I made myself learn all the braids.”
And then you see his gratefulness, the twinkle in his eyes that you can only grasp for a millisecond before they disappear into moon crescents. Happiness looks grand on him, overtaking his entire face, brightening his features with a glow too ethereal to be of mankind, as if they were carved to translate joy. You find yourself willing to give up more of your time to see it.
“Thank you,” he breathes out and you nod, a grin taking over your face as well.
“You’re welcome. Let me just change my clothes.”
☃︎⋆꙳•❅
“And then, you pull the right strand all over to the middle one. Then you repeat, this way the ribbon is braided into the hair,” you explain to a very concentrated Chris, his eyebrows furrowed as he follows your movements.
“It looks easy when you do it,” he frowns and you giggle, handing the mirror to Sowon so she'd be able to look at her hair.
“Do you like it,” you ask, a tad apprehensive and she beams, dimples that almost swallow her chubby cheeks surging forth.
“Pretty!” she exclaims and you giggle, bopping her nose. “You are pretty.”
“And you are pretty too. right, daddy?”
You turn back to find Chris watching you, a smile so fond on his face that it renders your insides putty, coats your cheek in the palest shade of pink.
“Very much so,” he says, tone quieter, his eyes never leaving yours.
Sowon suddenly climbs on her dad’s lap, star and moon stickers in hand. She places them all over his face, and he sits there diligently, arms wrapped around her midriff so she won't slip away. Every carefully placed sticker is punctuated by a soft gasp from him and a small giggle from her. You could feel the love radiating from both of them, a feeling so strong it made your heart twist in your chest.
Were there red neon exits you weren’t aware of in your being? Ones through which love trickled away all these years ago? Were the spaces between your fingers carved to hold someone’s hand, or to make everything you've ever wanted slip from your grasp?
“What do you think?” Sowon startles you and you force a smile on your face, willing the heaviness in your heart to dissipate. There were questions you'd never find the answers to, you had to make peace with that.
“I love it!” you grin and Sowon nods, satisfied. You look down at your lap as Chris fixates his eyes on you, a worried crease growing between his eyebrows.
“Fun is over, you need to do your homework, Miss Bang,” he scolds and you snort, as Sowon rolls her eyes slightly.
“Did you just roll your eyes at me?” he fakes offense and you giggle as Sowon huffs slightly. “Dad, I told you I have no homework. I already did it with uncle Felix.”
“Oh, right,” he deflates slightly before brightening up once again, “then, you should put away all these hairbrushes and ribbons, okay?”
“Will you watch a movie later with me?”
“Of course, baby.”
“Okay then,” she grins, quickly standing up to start putting away her things. you smile, getting up your turn to leave. Chris understands and stands with you on cue.
“You can stay and watch the movie with us.”
“It's okay, I have some things to work on,” you turn around, but then you feel his fingers wrapping around your wrist, stopping you in your tracks.
“Are you okay?” he asks, hand still burning straight through your skin, igniting a million nerve ends with a simple touch. You avoid his eyes, looking down at the ground. It seems to be response enough for him.
“We’re conditioned to say yes even when we aren’t, right?” he speaks softly, his words travel through your veins in a rapid course against the current of your blood— which one will reach your heart first and flood it?
Your facade cracks. His voice wins.
“So, you don't have to reply now,” his thumb swipes once across your pulse. “But I'll be here if you ever wish to tell the truth.”
iii.
You’ve grown exceptionally fond of Chris in the span of mere months, more than you would like to admit to yourself. It was an easy task, as natural as the current of a waterfall. Yet, you did not plan for it, for a new emotion to settle on top of your lungs, to make you more aware of your heart and how it beats, slightly faster, around Chris. But it happened serendipitously, against all odds, when he knocked on your door at 10 p.m. asking for salt.
“Should I start buying groceries for you?” you joked, and it took Chris a millisecond longer to respond, his gaze wandering across your face, as if discovering the world’s eighth wonder, hidden in plain sight all these years.
“For my defense, I have a daughter that likes experimenting with cooking,” he smiled, and you raised an eyebrow at him.
“Just with salt?”
“She added four teaspoons of it in an omelet. Then forced me to eat it because I always tell her food shouldn't go to waste,” he shudders at the memory and you chuckle loudly.
Chris knocks on the doors of your heart, once.
It happened when you spotted a cockroach the size of your palm on your bedroom wall. You would’ve killed it, you were going to, except it started flying towards you and you let out a loud shriek you didn’t know your vocal chords were capable of conjuring. So, you called Chris.
“Can you please come over,” you murmured, crouching near the entrance door, a pair of slippers in your hand.
“Why are you whispering? are you okay?” he sounded worried, and you heard the turning of a lock as he opened the door to his apartment. He didn’t ask questions, instantly coming to your aid. A sudden urge to weep filled your being at his gesture.
“There is a cockroach. a flying one,” you precised, horror dripping from your tongue and his laugh flooded your ear, tiny squeaks that made your hold on the slipper grow limp.
“I'm from Australia,” he knocked on your door, and you stood up promptly. “I've seen worse,” he said once you finally opened it, his eyes softening incredibly when they met yours.
He did kill the cockroach, by spraying your insect repellent enough times to asphyxiate you too. “I don't think I can sleep in there tonight,” you sighed, gulping down ice cold water, “why does it feel like we went through war?”
“We? You were behind my back all the time.”
“I was cheering you on, from afar. Spiritually.”
“I can’t believe a cockroach scares you this much.”
“You literally screamed when it flied towards you too.”
“I didn't scream! I made a very manly, non-terrified sound.”
“Mm, sure,” you giggled, voice softening at the blushing of the tip of his ears. Chris didn't have to force the door down to your heart, you willingly opened it for him.
And after that, it was a race to find the silliest excuses to see one another. Chris suddenly taking up an inkling for baking, you manifesting a newfound interest in music, Sowon needing her makeup done for a dance, Chris visiting you in your bakery, Sowon craving your cookies and you teaching her the recipe, Chris knocking on your door and you knocking on his. The same giddy smiles on your faces as you usher each other in. And it always, always ending with a movie night.
“Let's watch Tangled,” Sowon exclaims, clapping her hands excitedly.
“Baby, we watched this movie for the past…” he looks at you for support. “Three,” you whisper, a bashful smile on your face. “Yeah, for the past three movie nights,” he whines slightly.
“But I love it,” she says, her pout morphing into a huge grin. “Again! Again! Again!”
“Fine,” he concedes, mouthing “save me,” from afar to you. You giggle softly while Sowon cozies up to your side, your arm naturally draping across her body while her legs stretch atop Chris’ lap, naturally, as if having you both by her side was the way things have always been. The only reality she’s ever known.
It is a fleeting fifty minutes as the three of you watch the movie, Sowon reciting excitedly the lines that she seems to remember. But then the quiet is replaced by her soft snores, her body growing light against you.
“She fell asleep,” you whisper, tapping Chris’ shoulder to catch his attention. He tilts his head to the side, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips as his eyes land on his daughter.
“I'm sorry you have to watch the same movie every time,” he says apologetically and you shake your head.
“I don't mind. Tangled is a good movie.”
“Are you here just because of the movie?” he smiles, dimples peeking through. The juxtaposition between the weight of his words and the soft expression on his face makes a buzzing warmth spread through you. He’s cold and hot, in and out, yours but not.
“What do you want me to be here for?” you throw back, squeezing his shoulder slightly.
“The company.”
“I do find Sowon entertaining.”
“Just her?” he pouts and you giggle, tipping your head back.
“And you too, I suppose, by extension.”
“By extension, mm,” he hums, as he gathers Sowon in his arms, freeing her from your hold. “Then I guess I shouldn't come visit you in your bakery anymore. Since you only enjoy my presence by extension.”
“So sassy,” you shout-whisper as you both walk to Sowon's bedroom, “I like your company too, idiot.”
“Yeah?” he turns back to look at you, tone a tad bit too hopeful. He doesn’t care that he sounds eager for your approval, not when he feels as if he can only truly breathe when you're near.
“Yeah, Chris, I really do,” you speak earnestly, and Chris bites his lower lip slightly, suddenly overwhelmed by the gentleness of your tone. Your eyes follow his action instantly.
He lowers Sowon gently onto the bed and she stirs awake, blinking repeatedly at the both of you. “Yn,” she calls out quietly once her eyes land on yours and you kneel before her bed. Chris watches from the door entrance as Sowon cups her hand near your ear, before whispering something to you. He notices your body stiffening, your gaze fleeting to him before you relax, pressing a kiss to her cheek.
He wishes he could freeze time, stitch this moment into his eyelids until it is the only thing he sees when he goes to sleep. Loneliness is too big of an enemy for one person to fight off, but it seems more harmless when you are near.
Chris sees you right here, every night, not forcing your place into his family, but falling seamlessly into place. Perhaps you were the missing piece that’ll soothe the burn in his heart. Perhaps he’d let you in, even as fear paralyzes his being at the mere thought of asking you to stay.
One week later.
You've grown used to the knocks on your door at ungodly hours of the night, Chris seeking your company each time you both fail to fall asleep. Except this time, there is a chilling premonition in your heart as you walk to your home’s entrance, anxiety coiling like a steel ball in your throat.
“What’s wrong?” you ask upon opening the door, locking eyes with Chris's bloodshot gaze.
“Sowon,” he heaves, tone laden with fear, so different from how he usually pronounces her name. The syllables pierce through your heart like an arrowhead dipped in alarm.
“Sowon?” you question, peering behind him to his slightly ajar apartment door.
“Yes, she has a high fever, and it won’t come down. I tried everything, and I-I don’t know what to do anymore. She’s shaking, but I can’t—”He trembles, his quivers akin to delicate chinaware on the precipice of an earthquake, poised to shatter at your feet. You'd plunge to the ground first, anything to soften his impending collapse.
“It’s okay,” you soothe, your voice soft as you grasp his wrist. “Let’s go see her, okay?”
“It's her first time being this sick,” he whispers, clearly distraught, one hand running through his freshly dyed blonde hair.
“It's okay. Don’t panic, it happens. Did you give her medicine?”
“Yes, a few minutes ago,” he replies as you guide him towards her room.
“Good, it'll start working soon,” you reassure, opening the door and crouching before Sowon.
“Hey, Rapunzel,” you coo softly, and Sowon attempts to muster a smile. Her cheeks flush, eyes dim like withered petals.
“How are you feeling?” you ask, pressing your hand to her feverish forehead. You cast a wary glance at Chan, who's anxiously biting his thumb.
“Cold,” she whispers, and you nod, peeling off her blanket. “I know you are, but you have a high fever. We need to let it cool down, okay?”
“I-I’m shaking,” Sowon sighs, lower lip protruding and trembling, both from the iciness clawing at her frail being, and the tears welling in her waterline, like a cup on the brink of overflowing.
“Shh, don't cry. It will pass, it's okay,” you murmur soothingly, cradling her face on your lap, gently moving damp strands of her hair behind her ear.
“Chris, can you bring me a towel and a bowl with cold water?” you ask softly, and the man startles, painfully peeling his eyes away from his daughter, as if doing so would consign her to a dark fate.
“Sure. Sure,” he repeats, scurrying out of the room.
Sowon buries her cheek in your thigh, small hands clinging tightly to yours. You tie her hair up into a loose bun as Chan hurriedly comes back, a bassinet in his hand.
“Thank you,” you smile, as he kneels beside the bed, his hand resting on Sowon’s knee gently.
“Hey sweetheart,” he coos softly, and Sowon blinks at him, light spilling over her face.
“Hey daddy,” she replies as you dip the towel into the water, before squeezing the fabric to remove any liquid excess.
“You're being so strong. I love you so much my pretty girl,” he says, bringing her small hand to rest upon his cheek, bestowing a gentle kiss on her palm.
The moment feels so intimate, so tender, that you almost feel like an intruder. You imagine this is what thorns on roses must feel like, so out of place amid delicate petals and stems.
“I love you too,” she grins, and you remain silent, diligently wiping her face and neck with the dampened towel. You soon lose track of the number of times you've repeated this motion, but Sowon’s eyes are now closed and her body is no longer trembling.
You rest your palm upon her forehead, a sigh of relief escaping your body as you realize that her fever has gone down noticeably- the medicine finally taking effect.
“It's better now,” you smile reassuringly and Chris’s eyes widen, irises shaking as he looks back to his daughter.
“Will she be okay?”
“She will be. She just needs to sleep a bit.”
“Okay, thank you.”
“Can we prepare her something to eat meanwhile?”
“Mm,” he absentmindedly nods, his fingers trailing down Sowon’s features delicately, resting upon her round cheeks.
"She looks just like you," you softly smile.
"I know," he admits, not with pride but in surrender, as if his reflection was nothing but a cursed fate. His voice tastes like ocean water, salty, acid, suffocating.
“Chris…” you trail off and he shakes his head, abruptly standing up.
“Let's make her chicken noodle soup. She loves it,” he says and you nod. A ticking bomb resides in his veins, devoid of a countdown, leaving you unsure of when he'll finally explode.
You get your answer soon after—it takes two minutes and thirty-three seconds for the first tear to roll down Chris’s cheek. You spot it as you retrieve carrots from the fridge, averting your gaze as Chan angrily wipes it away.
A few seconds later, five tears follow the same agonizing trail, and now the knife is shaking in Chris’s hands. He squeezes his eyes shut as if frustrated by his pain, by the emotions escaping through the cracks in his heart.
You stay silent, bringing the water to a simmer.
The clank of metal against the counter snaps your attention, and you see Chris with his head lowered down, his hands tightly clutching the counter.
Your tongue moves before you can order it to speak.
"Chris," you call out, your hand finding its place on his back. An ugly sob escapes his lips, a raw cry unearthed from the depths of the soil where he buried his feelings, never allowing himself the grace of grieving, then moving on.
“I'm a horrible father,” he utters so brokenly as if this idea were cemented into his head, woven into every thought of himself—an adjective that lingers like a phantom each time Sowon calls him dad.
“You're not, what are you saying?” you gently turn him around so he'd face you. But his eyes remain downcast, as if ashamed to meet your gaze.
“I didn't know what to do. I panicked. I-I wasn't enough to help her.”
“It's okay, you can't know everything, you are trying your best-”
“No, no, no, it's not just about this!” he snaps, despair clinging to his eyes as he finally looks at you. “It’s hard. It’s so hard to be here alone, and I- I try but it's not enough, I can't do everything and I'm not a good enough parent for her, there will a-always be something missing.”
“You're wrong,” you say but he shakes his head in disagreement. “Chris, you're wrong,” you cradle his face, taking you both by surprise. Your thumb swipes gently underneath the skin of his eyes, wiping his cascading tears.
“You love Sowon. And she can feel it, she can see it, she can hear it. Everyone can. A parent can't be perfect, but they should love. And you love her.”
“What if I can't even love her enough for a father? How will I ever fill the role of two parents?” he's leaning onto your palm, hanging onto your every word. You'd sit for hours and untangle every thread of his mind if you have to, until you single out the infested one and burn it away.
“She loves you Chris. She looks at you as if you hang every star in the sky. As if you're responsible for every good thing that happens in our world. She loves you and you love her.”
You gaze up at the ceiling, tears welling in your eyes. Chan notices the subtle tremble in your hand against his cheek.
“If I had someone who loved me as much as you love Sowon when I was a child, I would've turned out so differently,” you smile bitterly, swallowing down the lump in your throat.
“You won't be a perfect dad. You can't be. But she won't grow up with a throbbing heart, pulsating because of a void that cannot be filled. Her veins won't be poisoned by hate and abandonment. Because she knows what it's like to be loved,” you pause, as your voice breaks, traitorous tears rolling down your cheeks. “To be cared for.”
Your eyes hold his in a silent conversation, secretly telling him what your tongue cannot speak of— Sowon, an untarnished blossom, won't unfurl into a solitary flower the way you did.
“I'm sorry,” he whispers after a while, eyes softening in understanding. His knuckles brush gently against your cheek.
“Why are you apologizing?”
“So you'd find a reason within you to forgive,” he says, as he leans forward to press a tender kiss on your forehead. And somehow it feels more intimate than any way you've been touched before.
Five days later.
chris [11:32 p.m.]: you up?
yn [11:32 p.m.]: i just got bad flashbacks to my college years
chris [11:33 p.m.]: ajaksjsbsbbs
chris [11:33 p.m.]: i didn’t mean it like that ㅠㅠ
chris [11:33 p.m.]: wanna come over? i'm in the studio but im not feeling inspired
yn [11:34 p.m.]: and how will i help?
chris [11:34 p.m.]: i find your presence inspiring
You don’t reply, instead putting on your slippers and walking over to his apartment. He opens the door before you even have the chance to knock.
“What are you working on?” you ask once you’re settled atop his chair, spinning around slightly. He looks down at the pillow on his lap, lightly plucking its pink fur. “A song for Sowon,” he admits softly and your eyes grow a little wide.
“That is so sweet,” you pout, inching closer to him. “How is it going?”
“I've finished the melody and now I'm working on the lyrics. There is just.. so much i want to tell her, i'm unsure if ill be able to express it well.”
“Can I read what you wrote?”
“Yeah. Yeah, sure,” he searches through his papers. “Here.”
May these words be the first to find your ears
The world is brighter than the sun now that you're here
I'll give you everything I have
I'll teach you everything I know
I promise I'll do better
I will soften every edge
I'll hold the world to its best
And I'll do better
Tears spring to your eyes unexpectedly, you try to stop their flow but they fall upon the paper, splattering like a broken mosaic, mimicking the brokenness of your own heart.
“I'm sorry,” you spin around, your back to him as you attempt to dry your tears, and yet they show no desire to stop. Chris is in your heart and he’s kicking every other emotion out, forcing you to make amends with your sadness, the one you buried years, years ago.
Chris gently grabs the back of the chair, pulling you back to him before spinning your chair once again until you are facing him. You bury your face in your hands and his rests reassuringly on your knee, squeezing it slightly. “Is it so bad it made you sob?”
“Shut up, you know this isn’t the case.”
His hand delicately traces up your arm, gently lifting your fingers from your face. He kneels before you, his thumb tenderly wiping away the traces of tears on your cheeks.
“Talk to me?”
“It's so beautiful, so warm, so loving. Everything a parent should think of their child,” a traitorous hiccup escapes your lips. “Everything my parents never felt for me.”
Chris’ mouth morphs into a pout, eyebrows scrunching tightly. You shake your head, smoothing down the worried crease between his eyes.
“I don't feel sad over things I can't control and I love myself enough now to compensate for what I didn't have, but sometimes-'' your voice breaks, Chan’s hold on your hands tightens. “It stings to remember what could’ve been.”
Stings was an understatement, it is rather a pulsating void, throbbing in ache every day, calling out for its missing piece. How can I fill you with what was lost when it chose to walk away?
“Come here,” he whispers, coaxing you to your feet, his arms enveloping your body as he guides your head to the crook of his neck. His body runs warm, the material of his sweatshirt soft, and he smells nice too, the contours of his muscles tailor-made to complement the ridges of your own.
“You grew up well, Yn. You did well.”
You clutch his shirt, tightening your grip as you fist the fabric in your palm. He's patting your back, and time slows down to match the rhythm of his touch.
“Love can be hard, I know. Especially when the people who left are the ones supposed to be staying.”
He understands, more than anyone you know. He missed out on a different kind of love too, two facets of the same coin.
“You’re doing well too, Chris. You shouldn’t doubt yourself as much,” your arms trail up to encircle his neck, as his nose tickles your hair. You're the one hugging him now. “Sowon is really smart, she told me that she loves you a lot. She can feel it. She sees everything you do for her.”
“Is that what she told you that movie night?”
“Partly,” you whisper, and Chris leans away slightly, his warm palms still pressed to your waist, holding you close.
“What else did she tell you?” he asks, curiosity barely hidden in his tone.
You pause for a while, eyes going over the entire room before finally locking on him.
“She thanked me, said that I make you smile more.” You suck in a deep breath, gathering your courage. “Do I?”
“There are smile lines that don’t show on my face until you're near.”
“Oh.” That is the only coherent response you can formulate, and Chris giggles, a tiny squeak escaping his lips in a huff. “Cute,” he murmurs, planting a tender kiss on your temple. His lips linger, holding onto the moment a beat longer than necessary, causing your eyes to close in delight. Both of you find yourselves blushing as he leans away, a shared warmth coloring the space between you.
“Sorry, didn't mean to make the mood somber,” you say sheepishly as you sit back down, eyeing Chris’s laptop. “I wanna hear this,” you quickly point to a random track on his screen before he can reply, hoping to make the sadness flee away.
“This one? It’s not really good, let's listen to something else,” his rambling and eagerness to change the track pique your curiosity and you quickly click on the song before he can stop you.
connected.mp3 starts playing.
Sultry beats inundate your ears, weaving through your veins and whisking you away to the pulsating rhythm of a dance club. You knew Chris produced good music, yet you never fathomed that his voice could be so luxuriously rich, cascading over you like molten wax. You feel a blush rise to your cheeks at the suggestive lyrics, the innuendos peeking behind every word. And then, a sudden jealousy claws at your heart, at the thought of Chris hunched in his studio, fantasizing about connecting with someone who isn’t you.
You wished to be the only one Chris liked.
“It’s a- a demo for one of my clients,” he explains through a stutter once the song is done, and you nod meekly, willing your body’s temperature to go down, for the possessivity crinkling in you to fizzle out.
So, you put on your best taunting smirk.
“I know you want me don’t crumble.. No need to be desperate we’re just getting started,” you sing-song back. “You were feeling so cocky when you wrote this, right?” you grin, inching your chair closer to his. “Feeling yourself, Mr. Bang?”
He chuckles with a hint of annoyance, running his tongue along the expanse of his lower lip. Leaning back into his chair, he casually spreads his legs a bit wider, a gesture that suddenly leaves you feeling dizzy, on him.
“It’s cute how affected you seem by it,” he throws nonchalantly, crossing his arms before his chest.
“I'm not,” you smile, although your erratic heartbeat spoke of a different tale, you just didn't need to voice it to him. “I think you were the one getting all hot and bothered in your studio,” you stand between his legs, hovering over him as he leans back fully in his chair.
“I was thinking of a pretty girl.”
“Yeah?”
“Mm,” he suddenly grabs your waist, you feel like your entire body is ablaze. “The prettiest.”
"Who is she?" you exhale, teetering on the edge of crashing your lips onto his, like an incoherent love poem, hastily scrambled on a notebook in a fit of anger.
“y–” The door suddenly opens, Sowon’s small frame standing by the door, she’s rubbing her eyes tiredly, her chick plushie dangling from her hand (a gift from her uncle Felix as she explained to you). You quickly scramble away from Chris as he clears his throat loudly.
“Daddy, I can't sleep,” she says faintly, a tiny pout drawn on her lips, and you can see Chris physically melt at her words, at the way she paddles to his chair, and tries her best to climb up his legs. She fails to do so, so he quickly scopes her up his arms until she’s buried in his hold. Her small hands wound up around his neck, and he tenderly pats down her hair, his gaze never wavering from her frame.
“Want me to sing to you, sweetheart?”
“Yes,” she whispers, before making grabby hands at you, your heart softens like clay dough as you scoot closer, enclosing her fingers in your hold.
“Sleep well, Sowonnie,” you whisper.
“Can’t you stay with us?” she asks and you feel your blood freeze in your veins, your heart skipping three beats at once.
To stay. What a frightening concept. Even more scary when you realize that you aren’t opposed to it.
You yearn to stay, for the first time in years, you wish you could.
You swallow the growing lump in your throat, before smiling reassuringly. “I'll stay till you fall asleep.”
Conditions, it is the way it has always been for you. staying till you’re no longer useful, staying till you're no longer wanted. Staying, but always with a time limit, always with an expiration date.
iv.
You’re avoiding him.
Chris knows you are, since you no longer come over to his house, claiming that you’re tired, or that you have an important order to bake for the next day. He would have believed you had he not seen you only once in the past three weeks.
Those were excuses, and each one of them weighed heavily on Chris’ heart, on his home too, his studio particularly, the one that got used to the sound of your laugh.
He misses you. He never thought he’d miss someone again, craving you presence as if every breath leaving his body depended on you. He wasn’t a stranger to intimacy, fleeting hookups every now and then. Strangers invited him to their bed, knowing what they were signing up for– one night of pleasure, never to be seen again, their faces blurring into an indistinct mass in his mind, like an impressionist painting where no features stand out. Yet, with you, every detail is etched in his memory.
He could pick you out of a crowded room, recognize the delicate curve of your neck, the fullness of your lips, and the way your nose scrunches when you smile.
He could draw the moles scattered on your body from memory alone, recognize your scent from miles away– your cotton shampoo and the specific laundry detergent you love to use and a hint of vanilla that never truly leaves you.
He’d remember the curve of your lashes and the cascading of your hair, the airy giggles you leave across like a trail for him to follow everywhere, and your eyes– the way they gazed at him, softening slightly around the edges, shining brightly as if crafted from stardust, the way they softened even more when you looked at Sowon, voice growing slightly high pitched as you listened to his daughter’s rambles.
How did you manage to make his home yours without ever living in it?
“Dad?” Sowon calls out and he snaps his head up, locking eyes with his little girl. She’s sitting on a high stool, munching on her pizza, a pensive look on her face.
“Yes, sweetheart?” he asks, walking over to her side.
“Where is Ynnie?” she asks in a small voice and he freezes, mulling over his response. He settles for the truth.
“I don't know, baby.”
“Does she not want to play with me anymore?” Sowon whispers, and he doesn’t remember his daughter ever being this tentative about voicing a question.
“No!” he's quick to reassure, cradling Sowon’s face between his much larger hands. “Of course not baby she loves you a lot.”
“Okay…” she nods, a small pout drawn on her lips still. Chris senses his heart physically crack in his chest.
“Do you wanna work in the studio with me?” he says in a joyful tone, and she instantly cheers up, the twinkle in her eyes found again. “Yes!”
“Finish your food first, okay Wonnie?”
“Okay!”
In Chris's life, regrets have been scarce, and certainly not in the form of Sowon, his beacon of hope, as he named her. Having her was beholding a sun wherever he went. However, a fear lingers, a whisper in his heart, suggesting that letting you go might be his one true regret.
So when his daughter falls asleep, he knocks on your door once again. He's suddenly transported into that cold night, months ago, where he asked you for flour. Had he known you were behind it he would’ve knocked much sooner.
“Hi,” you greet softly once you open the door. He takes a step forward, his wolf slippers matching with Sowon’s bump into your plain ones. You avert your gaze, finding anything but him to fixate on.
“You're avoiding me,” he says matter-of-factly, voice soft, resigning to you.
“I'm not,” you contradict, even as your eyes remain on the ground. He finds himself missing the color of your irises.
“Look at me, hm?” he implores, and you stay rooted in place. A soft sigh escapes him as he cradles your right cheek with his warm hand, his thumb gently sweeping across your cheekbone. “Yn, please, I want to look at you.”
Maybe it is the pleading tone of his voice or the way his thumb tenderly grazes your skin, but something about Chris makes your resolve unravel, threads of fear unknotting before your eyes. So, you finally look at him. An exhale of relief escapes him.
And then you speak.
“You asked me if I was okay, and I didn't reply, back then,” you say, leaning your head further against his palm as tears well up in your waterline. “Do you still want to know my answer?”
“Of course, always.”
“I'm happy. With you, with sowon. I feel this warmth that I have never known before when I'm with you. It was almost easy to forget I've known you during winter,” you chuckle dryly, “but it is all an illusion, I lie to myself thinking I could stay, I… I can't, I-“
“What if I ask you to stay?” he brings your hand to his heart, where it beats erratically, pulse seeping through your skin.
He’s as scared as you are.
“Chris…”
“What if I told you, Yn, please stay with me,” he breathes out, guiding your hand to gently cup his cheek. “Would you? Would you stay?”
“I'm terrified,” you whisper, as he tilts his head, bestowing a tender kiss on your palm.
“I know, so am I. But, you make me believe that even my bruised parts are worthy of love.”
He wins, before years of skeletons and piled up doubts, he wins.
“Okay.”
“Okay?”
“I'm staying.”
“You are?”
“I am,” you giggle lightly and he staggers back, the sun pouring into his smile.
“Um, wow, okay. Thank you for staying,” his voice sounds airy, happiness floating in his tone, and you find it contagious, imprinting into your own.
“Thank you for asking me to stay.”
“You made it less daunting,” he pats your head, smoothing your hair down. “I missed you.”
“I missed you too.”
He giggles in response and you can't help but mirror the sound. “Why are you so nervous?”
“Whaaat? I'm not,” his tone grows high-pitched and you roll your eyes amusedly.
“What happened to connected Chris?”
“He is flustered by the girl he wrote about.”
Your cheeks tint red as he places a hand above your head, caging you in place.
“I think the girl should get paid for being the muse.”
“Oh yeah?” he smirks, “I'll think about it.” His grin softens, as a content expression washes over his face. You know you must look the same. “Let's talk more tomorrow, okay?”
“Okay,” you grin, before placing a chaste kiss on his cheek. “Good night, Chris.”
“Good night, yn.”
You quietly watch as he walks to his apartment door, his hand settling on the door knob. He pauses, for a few seconds where the air around you stills, before swiveling around and walking over to you again.
you win.
“I forgot something,” he breathes out, before crashing his lips onto yours, furiously, as if needing to imprint his essence onto you, tainting your soul the way you have tainted him, permanently altering the composition of his being. His lips move on yours as if they've done this before, a dance they have rehearsed countless times, perhaps in all the dreams Chris visited you in. Yet, nothing compares to how it feels to have him touch you, lick your lower lip and drag his hand up your hips, press you against your apartment door, and nibble at your neck.
Nothing could have prepared you for the passion he shows you, for how delicious it feels to be pressed against him, for the storm that your lips conjure, swirling in your heart in vibrant shades of red. Then, for the softness of his lips as they slow down their course, plump and rosy as they meet your own, tenderly, more gently, one kiss after the other. “My hope,” he whispers, as his lips find yours again, “my missing piece.”
He’s hot and cold, in yet seeking no out, finally yours.
bonus (one year later).
“So I brought the eggs, milk, sugar,” Chris enumerates as he takes out the groceries, and you turn to look at Sowon to find her already gazing at you, a mischievous look on her face.
“How much do you wanna bet he forgot flour?” you whisper and she giggles, burying her face in her hands to stifle her laugh.
“And… Wait, where is the flour?” he trails off and you burst out laughing, as you and Sowon high-five each other excitedly.
“Daddy, you are really bad at groceries.”
“Am I?” he smiles sheepishly, fiddling with his earlobe in a manner that still makes your heart melt, renders your insides butterflies speaking of Chris’ name.
“Yes, it’s good Mom bought it,” she says naturally, looking down at her iPad. You and Chris freeze in your tracks, eyes instantly locking with one another, yours and his, glossy with emotion, a loving tide enveloping you both.
It's her first time calling you mom.
You swallow down the lump in your throat, crafted not by thorns but by petals, not by ache but with love, before placing your chin on the small of her shoulder, murmuring softly. "Mm, will you help me bake, baby?"
“Yes! I wanna be a baker when I grow up, just like you.”
“What happened to being a stylist?”
“I can't be both?” she frowns innocently.
“You can be anything you want, princess.” you bop her nose and she giggles, pressing a sweet kiss to your cheek.
In the grip of winter, Chris discovers a warmth that defies the season, casting off years of cold from the recesses of his bones. A soft smile graces his lips as he gazes at you, his hopes, his girls, the three of you clad in wolf slippers.
He’ll propose to you tomorrow.
#skz x reader#skz x you#stray kids x reader#stray kids x you#stray kids angst#skz fluff#stray kids fluff#skz imagines#stray kids imagine#stray kids reactions#skz angst#skz fanfic#chan fluff#chan x reader#bang chan x reader#bang chan fluff#skz scenarios#stray kids scenarios#skz au
7K notes
·
View notes
Text
✧ I won’t really write descriptions for these, but see original post tags for explanation/commentary on the song snippet ✧
#hghh trying to use the most kind of obnoxious voice things (like the background high piched thing. the duck quacks. the weird gurgly baby#voice. etc.) but together in one thing#just goofing around as always. (also it's not edited - I can just actually make that weird baby sounding voice lol)#though the main tune that the gugrly voice sings sounds familiar to me. I wonder if it's actually from somewhere#then again I do feel like 90% of the time I'm secretly plagarizing or someting and just dont realize it because#I know so little about music and musicians and genres and etc. I could probably easily rip off#a song I hard once when I was 8 years old and don't remember at all lol. Esepcially since I'm doing these in literally usualy#like less than 10 minutes and thus would not spend time doing research or trying to find similar songs or something lol#But like I think Iv'e said before.. I don't really think it matters in this context#I'm just being silly and experimenting with things obviouslly none of these are meant to be professional level#songs . I'm not trying to become a musician or sell albums or something. I'm just having fun#messing with concepts because it's interesting to my brain. The same way of the whole like .. detach your hobbies from capitalism and stuff#and if you enjoy something just do it anyway. Even if you can't paint very well (in terms of objective artistic skill) and you have cheap#materials and never have any good creative ideas and there's no way you could ever turn it into a career or make money out of it - IF YOU#ENJOY IT.. do it anyway!!! It's not about skill or making profit or being good or marketable. it's just about expressing yourself#in whatever way you want and having fun!#Now for example like - my sculptures or something - I do actually spend hours and hours on those and I try to make them#nice and I have sold them before - so if I blatanty ever copied someone's sculpture idea with one of mine or something#I would take it a lot more seriously and etc. because that's actually more of an important craft for me#that I should have standards for. But I'm looser with stuff like this because the nature of it is more like#.. my one silly hobby that I am actively NOT trying very hard at or trying to monetize and thats the POINT#to have one thing I can be chill and relaxed and just not care about. ANYWAY.. so hgnn... sometimes these sound to me#like things I've heard before and I'm paranoid or something but then also like... eh lol#beepo tag
1 note
·
View note
Text
I WANNA BE YOUR ENDGAME – Chapter 01
🏒❤️ A Hockey Romance feat. modern!Sukuna
Pairing: HockeyPlayer!Sukuna x Reader (female) Genre: College AU, Hockey AU, fluff + smut Playlist: I wanna be your Endgame Word Count: 3k Warnings: 18+, smut in later chapters. Fuckbuddies to lovers. Sukuna smokes a cigarette in this chapter. Reader is a creative writing student. Sukuna is an ice hockey player + history student. This story will have approximately 10 chapters. Minors don't interact. Header by me. Divider @/benkeibear
MASTERLIST
The first time you meet Sukuna, you literally run into him.
It's a Thursday morning. You are running down the hallway while rummaging through your bag, searching for the printed copy of the short story that you have to hand in today. The irony isn't lost on you. The story contains a scene quite similar to this. But unfortunately, you aren't a rebel princess running out of a ballroom with her cloak dramatically billowing behind her. You are just a creative writing student in a mismatched pair of sneakers who is late for her class. The second time this week. To a class taught by a professor who sees it as a personal affront if someone shows up late.
You grit your teeth, trying to run even faster, when you finally see the printed copy you were looking for. You cheer inwardly. But your relief is short-lived. Because a second later, you crash into a solid wall.
You screech in shock, the force of the impact making you flat-out keel over without any warning. This will hurt, is the only thought that flashes through your mind. But a millisecond before you hit the hard floor tiles, your fall gets stopped, and you get pulled up again and set back on your feet. Everything happens so fast that you can only blink in confusion.
A pair of well-defined, tattooed arms comes into view. You stare perplexed at them, realizing that they are what stopped your fall. And what you also realize at that moment is that the "solid wall" you slammed into is the tall and muscular owner of those strong arms.
Your face is currently only inches away from his chest. A broad and buff chest in a soft-looking white hoodie with a very familiar crest embroidered on the front. Two crossed hockey sticks and a tiger with glowing red eyes and his mouth opening in a feral-looking growl.
Your head snaps up to look at the face of your savior (and the cause of your fall), and what already began to dawn on you gets confirmed the moment you see the tattoos on his handsome face: You just ran full speed into Itadori Sukuna, the star player of the ice hockey team. The Red Tiger himself, The King of the Ice, and whatever other titles he gets called.
Even though you are hardly a hockey fan, you know Sukuna. Everyone knows him.
Sukuna gets treated like royalty on this campus. He's a living legend. The star player of The Red Tigers, the most successful ice hockey team this college has brought out in over five decades. And Sukuna is the reason for that success.
You gulp hard and take a hurried step back.
Out of anyone you could have crashed into, why did it have to be him? Sukuna is feared on and off the ice. You have never spoken to him personally, only saw him from afar while heading to class or when you were at the same party as him, but his reputation as a bad boy precedes him. And the way he looks with his face tattoos and his strong and tall build only adds to those assumptions. Sukuna is definitely a very intimidating guy.
Your automatic response is to try to make yourself look as harmless and cute as possible, smiling a sheepish, apologetic smile at him.
"I'm so sorry! I was late for class, so I ran, and I didn't see you. Sorry!"
You look up at him with big eyes and a nervous smile, steeling yourself for a scolding.
But Sukuna just eyes you with an amused expression on his tattooed face. His eyes travel lazily over your face and body, making you more nervous with each passing second. You feel your cheeks become hot when Sukuna's gaze finally lands on your mismatched shoes, and the corners of his lips twitch.
You silently curse yourself for snoozing your alarm one too many times and ending up like this in front of the hot boy hockey star of all people!
Sukuna is looking directly into your eyes now, his lips lifted in a lopsided smirk.
"I don't mind getting bodychecked by a pretty girl like you. It would be different if it were an opponent on the ice, but you will get away with it, princess."
You are dumbfounded for a moment, mouth opening and closing several times. Is he mocking you? You eye Sukuna wearily as you mutter,
"Um, well... Thank you for catching me before I landed on the floor."
Sukuna just looks at you a moment longer with that lazy grin, and then he bends down to pick up the bag you dropped. He pushes it into your arms, and you grab it instinctively and hug it tightly to your chest as if it is your lifeline.
"And thank you for the bag."
You add while once again smiling sheepishly at him. Sukuna laughs softly, cocking his head and looking at you with an infuriatingly smug grin,
"Don't thank me so much. If it weren't for me, you wouldn't have fallen in the first place."
"Yeah, I guess that's true. But still, thank you."
You cringe at your own words, sure that you sound like a total idiot, but you force yourself to smile broadly at Sukuna and wish him a nice day before you turn around and walk toward the creative writing classroom on rather wobbly legs. At least you don't have to hurry anymore, you think grimly. By now, you are definitely too late.
There's a prickling feeling on your neck as if you are being watched, and you are pretty sure that if you looked over your shoulder, you would see Sukuna still standing there and looking at you with that amused glint in his eyes.
You refuse to give in to the urge to check if you are right and instead keep walking. But your pulse is still racing. From the almost fall or from Sukuna's presence, you aren't sure.
You slip into the classroom, and your professor sends a death glare your way, snapping at you for not taking her course seriously and all thoughts of a certain pink-haired, tattooed hockey player are wiped off your mind as you mutter an apology, and you hurry to the nearest free seat.
You encounter Sukuna again a few days later.
You stand outside the Gojo Hall waiting for your dormmate Nobara when you catch a flash of pastel pink in the corner of your eyes. You lift your head and spot not only one pink head but two. The Itadori twins exit the building side by side, Sukuna, and Yuuji, both wearing their white team hoodies, making you wonder if there is some rule that the players must wear their team apparel 24/7.
You are still contemplating the secret rules of the hockey team when the brothers give each other a high five, and Yuuji leaves with a big smile on his face while Sukuna turns his head, and his gaze instantly lands on you.
Your eyes widen, feeling like the deer in the headlights. You curse yourself inwardly. Why did you let him catch you staring at him?
A smirk appears on Sukuna's tattooed face, and to your horror, he strolls towards you.
You try to act cool, nodding lightly at him, a short greeting in passing. Only to feel your heart jump to your throat when you realize that Sukuna won't just walk by. The resident hockey star stops beside you and casually leans against the brick wall right next to where you stand.
He lets his head fall back and tilts his face to the side, smirking down at you.
"No mismatched shoes today?"
You can't help it, a laugh bubbles out of your chest even as you feel your face get hot. You shake your head,
"Wasn't really my style."
"And here I thought you were some fashion icon or something. Did you make it to class in time after our little accident?"
You scrunch your nose as you remember the angry look and the mean comment your professor sent your way and shake your head,
"No. And now my professor hates me even more."
Sukuna laughs softly. He is so tall that you have to tilt your head back to look at his face. He looks good. Too good. Dangerously so. His pink hair is a pretty contrast to the dark red brick stones behind him. His angular face with the sharp jawline is accentuated attractively by the black lines inked into his skin. A second pair of eyes is tattooed right under his real ones, sitting high on his cheekbones, giving the impression that he is always watching you.
Sukuna is beautiful in a classic way, but at the same time, his tattoos and the way he carries himself make that beauty darker. Beautiful, like a fallen angel, maybe. His looks and his personality give him a dangerous aura. He is undeniably very intimidating. But the way he jokes around with you and looks at you in that playful manner makes you feel surprisingly at ease. Maybe that's why you grin at him and ask,
"What about you? Did your professor get mad, too?"
Sukuna shakes his head.
"Nah. I wasn't on my way to class. I had a team meeting."
You raise a skeptical eyebrow, remembering the empty hallway.
"But I didn't see any of your teammates."
Sukuna's smirk grows bigger, and he raises an eyebrow, too, as if it is a challenge.
"Because I work out all the tactics and do the analytics and shit, so I have to be there before anyone else. Setting up everything, you know?"
You nod slowly, not saying it, but you are surprised and even a bit impressed by his statement. Judging by his looks and reputation, you wouldn't have taken Sukuna for the type of guy who bothers with tactics and stuff. You always assumed he solved everything with pure strength and brutal fouls. Apparently, you were wrong.
Sukuna hums and shoves his large hands casually into the pockets of his grey sweatpants, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. He wears black nail polish, you realize, and somehow that fact is so fascinating that you find yourself unable to look away from his long, tattooed fingers as he gracefully lights a cigarette and takes a deep drag that makes his eyelashes flutter.
Sukuna then holds the still-open cigarette pack out to you, wordlessly offering you one. You decline with a shake of your head and a:
"I didn't know hockey players smoke."
You are met with another of Sukuna's boyish smirks that makes him look way too charming. He cocks his head, eyes sparkling with amusement, low voice dropping to an almost seductive purr,
"And why not?"
You shrug, making an indecisive gesture with your hands,
"Isn't it making you slower or something?"
Sukuna huffs softly, looking smug when he says,
"Well, even if I smoked two packs a day, I would still be the fastest one on the ice, so I guess I will risk it."
You laugh. And as you do it, you realize, to your astonishment, that you feel surprisingly relaxed around the star player and resident bad boy.
You watch him nod towards a group of guys passing by, who congratulate him on the latest win. Followed by two girls who giggle and twirl their hair as they look at him and coo his name as if he is some pop star.
But Sukuna doesn't seem to see anything out of the ordinary. He just lazily blows out his cigarette smoke, not blessing them with more attention than a bored smirk.
Yes, he is a bit of an arrogant asshole and the way people treat him like he is a King or something is super irritating. But you can't deny that Sukuna has a certain charm. Lots of charm! All in all, the resident starboy doesn't seem so bad.
He is looking at you again. A deep gaze that makes your pulse accelerate with how inquiring and intense it is. As if he sees right into your very core.
"Why are you standing in the smoking area when you don't smoke?"
That catches you off guard. You blink and look around, searching for a smoking sign or something similar, but you don't see anything like it.
"Um... I didn't know this was the smoking area. I am just waiting for my dormmate."
After a moment, you add,
"I'm a secondhand smoker, though. Does that qualify, too, or are you gonna make me leave?"
You have no idea why you talk that way. Almost like you are flirting with Sukuna! He grins at you like a devil, attractive and playful and a little bit dangerous as he leans closer to you.
"You don't have to leave, princess. I'll make sure to blow my smoke your way if you are so into passive smoking."
You can hear the amusement in his low voice as he teases you. And he said it again, that name. Princess.
You are pretty sure that Sukuna calls a lot of girls that way, and it's pretty cliché, and coming from any other guy, you would probably find it cringe. But the way Sukuna says it, in his low, velvety voice, while he has that teasing smirk on his handsome face, makes you feel a strange fluttering in your stomach.
But you don't give him the satisfaction of letting him see the effect that stupid word has on you and instead roll your eyes playfully, looking challengingly at him, grinning just like he does,
"Go on then. I don't mind the smoke."
And Sukuna's eyes glint in amusement, never looking away as he leans down to you and takes a deep drag from his cigarette. He pulls it away from his lips and slowly blows the smoke into your face while watching you with half-lidded, cat-like eyes, smirking when he sees that you really don't turn away.
You shake your head and chuckle, feeling like you are sixteen again, and try to infiltrate the cool kids' clique by hanging around near their usual smoking spot. It's a bit stupid, maybe, but also fun.
Sukuna looks pleased, the tip of his tongue gliding over his front teeth as he grins at you.
"Good girl."
You bite your lip, looking up at him with big eyes, finding it hard to breathe suddenly, but not because of the cigarette smoke. You are relieved when Sukuna pulls away and announces,
"Well, it was nice sharing my smoke with you, but I have to go to the gym now. See you around, princess."
He winks at you and flicks the half-smoked cigarette gracefully to the floor, crushing it under the soles of his red and black Nikes.
"Have fun at the gym!"
Your voice sounds too chipper in your sorry attempt to act as if nothing happened, and Sukuna's eyes glitter with that seemingly ever-present teasing expression as he lets them trail over your face once again. He lets out a low chuckle and then jerks his tattooed chin at you in a casual goodbye gesture before he walks away with large, confident steps.
You watch him leave, laughing under your breath.
Sukuna definitely has a strong effect on people. He is confident and sexy, and a bit dangerous. But he also has a boyish charm that makes it easy to talk to him somehow. And it also makes it very hard not to stare after him.
Your gaze is still glued to Sukuna's tall figure and his broad shoulders when Nobara suddenly pops up beside you, making you jump when her elbow connects sharply with your side.
"What is going on between you and our hockey star?"
"What?"
"What were you talking about with Sukuna? And why are you staring after him like that?"
"Nothing. And I am not staring! I just... I ran into him a few days ago when I was late to class. Literally ran into him. That guy is like a wall. I bounced off him and fell. But he caught me. And yeah, that's all."
Nobara is staring at you with comically big eyes and a shocked, open-mouthed expression on her face,
"Why didn't you tell me about that? And now you're chit-chatting with him? Are you friends or what? Or are the two of you fucking?"
"Excuse me? No! Why would you even think that? I just exchanged a little small talk with him, Nobara! That is all!"
She huffs dramatically and pushes her ginger hair behind her ears,
"Good. Because he is an asshole. On the other hand, he is hot, but I think the asshole thing outweighs the sexiness. Maybe you could fuck him once just to get a taste. I mean, he is probably good in bed. And then you can avoid him and..."
"Hello? I don't plan on fucking Sukuna!"
You roll your eyes exasperatedly and push yourself off the wall you were leaning against, quickly walking away so Nobara won't see how flustered her words make you.
It's stupid, though! You really don't plan on getting involved with Sukuna! You barely know him, and just because he has a pretty face, a good body, and a bunch of sexy tattoos doesn't mean you want him!
Oh, are you sure about that, my dear Reader? Because I personally already want him ;)
Thank you so much for reading the first chapter!! I am so excited to finally share this story with you! I wrote some HockeyPlayer!Sukuna headcanons last year, and I couldn't get that version of him out of my mind again, so I knew I HAD to give him a new multi-chapter story. I am already deeply in love with this man, and I am so happy that I can indulge in him for several chapters now ;)
I hope you enjoyed the first chapter! Comments and reblogs would be very sweet ❤️❤️
In Chapter 2, Reader will see our sexy hockey star actually play.
#sukuna x reader#sukuna x you#sukuna fluff#sukuna smut#sukuna#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk fluff#jjk smut#sukuna x y/n#jjk x y/n#{🏒❤️} hockey au
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
BEST FRIENDS CAN FUCK / S.J
Pairing ◊ sub!fem!reader x softdom!jake
Genre ◊ SMUT, best friends to ???
Warnings ◊ SMUT (minors dni), alcohol (both of them are drunk), kissing (obvi), liiitle bit of dry humping, fingering, petnames, praising, finger sucking, oral (f. receiving), kind of pwp, unprotected sex (wrap it up), lots of cursing
Word count ◊ 5,2k
Summary ◊ you were sexually frustrated and your best friend Jake offered to help you.
a/n: really thinking abt doing a pt.2, tell what you think! also not proofread hihi
Empty bottles of Soju were littered on the coffee table in front of you, making both of your mind fuzzy with alcohol. You and Jake had been best friends for years, and theses nights sprawled on the couch after a night of drinking had sort of become a tradition.
Jake sat across from you, legs stretched out, his back slouched against the armrest. His hair was a bit messy, and he had a lazy grin from the alcohol. You had both drifted from topic to topic, having effortlessly between school stress, random ass jokes and deeper subjects.
You tipped your head back against the cushions and let out a long groan, closing your eyes. "Honestly, at this point, I'm not even looking for a relationship anymore. I just want someone to hook up with. I'm so sexually frustrated it's fucking ridiculous."
There was a pause before Jake chuckled softly, his laughter low and teasing. "Tell me about it," he said, shifting slightly to get more comfortable. "It’s like... one of the most basic things, right? Why is it so complicated?"
You rolled your head to the side to look at him, meeting his gaze. There was an ease between the two of you that had long since obliterated any awkwardness, but tonight felt different, like the alcohol had loosened something even deeper. “Exactly! It shouldn’t be this hard,” you muttered, biting your lip in frustration. “I just want someone to fuck me good. Is that really too much to ask?”
He raised an eyebrow, his lips quirking into an amused smile. "So... what happened to that guy you went out with the other day? Soobin, right? You seemed pretty into him."
You huffed, your frustration bubbling over again as you grabbed the last half-empty bottle of soju, taking a long swig before answering. “Soobin’s sweet. He’s funny, and yeah, he’s super handsome. But… he didn’t make me cum. Like, not even close.”
Jake winced, a sympathetic look crossing his face. "Oof, that sucks."
“Right?” You groaned again, tossing the bottle back onto the coffee table. “Like, he was doing everything right, but it just… wasn’t happening. And I swear, I was so into him, but it’s like… Ugh!” You threw your hands up in exasperation, staring at the ceiling. “I’m cursed or something. At this point, I’d settle for anyone who knows what the fuck they’re doing.”
He let out a low chuckle, and you looked at him, finding that familiar mischievous glint in his eyes. He raised his hand, running it through his hair as if deep in thought. “I’ve never had that problem,” he said casually, his tone light but teasing.
You narrowed your eyes at him, a mix of amusement and curiosity flooding your thoughts. “Oh, really?” you shot back, tilting your head as you shifted in your seat to face him fully. “So, what? You’re telling me you’ve always been able to make every girl you’ve been with cum?”
Jake shrugged, his grin widening. "Pretty much."
You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t help but feel a spark of something at his confidence. You'd known Jake for years, and you knew he wasn’t just talking big to impress you. He had a reputation around campus. "Wow, must be nice," you muttered sarcastically.
Jake leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees, his gaze holding yours. “Maybe it’s not you. Maybe it’s the guys you’ve been with.”
You blinked, taken aback by his sudden seriousness. “What do you mean?”
He shrugged again, but his eyes didn’t leave yours, the playful edge in them softening into something more thoughtful. “I mean, sometimes it’s just about chemistry, you know? Maybe these guys just don’t get you. Or maybe…” He hesitated for a second, like he was considering something, before continuing. “Maybe you need someone who actually knows what they’re doing, like you said.”
You frowned, confused by the shift in his tone. “Yeah, that’s what I’ve been saying.”
“No, I mean...” He paused, his gaze dropping to his hands before flicking back up to meet yours. “Maybe someone like… me.”
You stared at him, the weight of his words sinking in slowly. “Wait, what?”
Jake leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest, the grin still playing on his lips, but there was a hint of nervousness in his posture now. “I mean… we’ve been best friends for how long? We know everything about each other. No taboos, right? And I’m just saying…” He shrugged, though there was an intensity in his gaze now that made your heart race. “If you’re looking for someone who knows what they’re doing… well, you know I do.”
The room seemed to grow quieter, the buzz of the alcohol in your system making everything feel a bit slower, a bit more surreal. You blinked at him, trying to process what he was suggesting. “Yunnie… are you saying…?”
“I’m saying,” he said, his voice soft but sure, “if you want someone to fuck you like you deserve, someone who actually knows how to make you come, then… why not me?”
You let out a snort and swatted Jake playfully on the arm. “Oh my God, Yunnie, you shouldn’t joke about that,” you giggled, feeling the warmth of the alcohol buzz in your system. “You’re clearly drunk.”
Jake laughed along with you, his laughter low and infectious. He tilted his head, his eyes sparkling with that familiar mischievous glint that always made you smile. “Yeah, I’m drunk,” he admitted, shrugging casually. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not serious.”
You blinked at him, still smiling, but there was a flutter in your stomach now that you couldn’t ignore. “Come on,” you said, trying to keep the tone light. “You can’t just offer to—what, fuck me—and act like that’s normal.”
His smile widened into a smug, teasing grin, and he leaned back a little, crossing his arms over his chest like he was settling in for a challenge. “Why not? You just said you wanted someone who knows what they’re doing. I do. And you know I’d be good at it.” His voice dropped an octave, turning his playful tone into something more suggestive. “And let’s be real, you’re hot as hell. I’d be lying if I said I never thought about it.”
You felt your cheeks heat up at his words, and you laughed again, though it came out a little breathless. “Jake…”
“What?” he continued, his grin never faltering. “You think I don’t notice the way guys stare at you? You’re gorgeous, smart, and funny. But you’ve been wasting your time with these idiots who can’t even make you cum.” He leaned forward slightly, his voice lowering even more, eyes never leaving yours. “Let me fix that for you.”
Your heart pounded in your chest, and you felt a flush creeping up your neck. This was so far from any conversation you’d ever had with Jake, but the alcohol had loosened something between you two, making it feel like maybe it wasn’t so crazy after all. “This is insane,” you murmured, shaking your head, but there was a note of hesitation in your voice.
Jake didn’t miss it. His grin softened into something more intense, more focused. He leaned forward again, close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating from him, and you were suddenly hyper-aware of every inch of space between your bodies. “It doesn’t have to be,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “It wouldn’t change anything. We’re still best friends, right? Best friends can fuck too.”
Your breath caught in your throat. His face was so close now, so close that you could see the flecks of gold in his eyes, the way his lips curved into that confident, teasing smile. His scent—clean, familiar, and slightly tinged with the alcohol—mixed with the heady atmosphere, and you bit your lip, your mind spinning with the possibility.
He saw the way you hesitated, the way you bit your lip, and his grin turned predatory, like he knew exactly what was going through your mind. He leaned in even closer, his lips just a breath away from yours, his voice low and teasing. “Come on, admit it,” he murmured, his tone laced with heat. “You’ve thought about it before.”
You swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your ears. Maybe you had, in the back of your mind, wondered what it would be like to kiss Jake, to feel his hands on you. You're best friend was hot, you couldn't deny it. No one with functioning eyes could deny it. But you’d never let yourself seriously entertain the thought—until now.
The alcohol in your system was doing nothing to help you think clearly. Your lips parted slightly, and without realizing it, you leaned in just a fraction more, closing the gap between you both. “This is crazy,” you whispered again, though the protest felt weak now.
Jake’s grin softened into something more serious, his eyes locked on yours. “Maybe. But maybe it’s exactly what you need.”
That did it. Your restraint snapped, and before you could second-guess yourself, you surged forward and kissed him, hard.
Jake reacted instantly, his hand coming up to cup the back of your neck, pulling you even closer as he deepened the kiss. His lips were soft, warm, and they moved against yours with a practiced ease that made your head spin. His tongue brushed against your lower lip, teasing, and you opened up to him, letting him in as your hands fisted in the front of his shirt.
The kiss quickly turned heated, the soft, tentative brushes of lips becoming urgent and hungry. You shifted, climbing into his lap without breaking the kiss, your legs straddling his as you pressed your body against his. The heat between you was palpable, a slow burn that spread through your entire body as you ground your hips down against him.
Jake groaned into the kiss, his hands finding your waist, fingers digging into your hips as he guided your movements. “Fuck,” he muttered against your lips, his voice rough with desire. “You feel so good.”
You pulled back just enough to look at him, your breathing heavy, your lips swollen from the kiss. His eyes were dark, pupils blown wide as he gazed up at you, his hands still gripping your hips tightly, holding you against him.
“You’re crazy,” you whispered, though there was no conviction behind the words. Your body was already on fire, your heart racing as his hands slid up your sides, teasing the skin just under your shirt.
Jake chuckled, that smug grin still playing on his lips as he looked up at you with pure, unfiltered desire. “You’re the one who kissed me,” he teased, his voice low and gravelly.
You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the grin that spread across your face. “Yeah, well… shut up,” you muttered, leaning down to kiss him again, this time slower, savoring the way his lips moved against yours, the way his hands roamed your body, igniting sparks everywhere he touched.
The kiss deepened, becoming even more heated as Jake’s hands slid up under your shirt, his fingers brushing against the bare skin of your back. You gasped into the kiss, your body arching into his touch, and he took the opportunity to flip you over, pressing you back into the couch cushions as he settled between your legs, his lips never leaving yours.
His weight on top of you felt solid, grounding, and you moaned softly as his hands roamed your body, his fingers tracing the curve of your waist, the dip of your hips. Every touch sent a shiver down your spine, and you felt the heat pooling low in your stomach as he kissed you harder, his body pressing against yours in all the right ways.
“Jake,” you breathed out, your hands tangling in his hair as he kissed down your neck, his lips grazing the sensitive skin there, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.
“Mm?” he hummed, his voice vibrating against your skin as he nipped lightly at your collarbone, his hands still exploring your body, sliding under your shirt, teasing the edge of your bra.
“This is insane,” you whispered, but there was no stopping now, and you both knew it.
Jake grinned against your skin, pulling back just enough to look at you, his eyes dark and filled with desire. “Maybe,” he agreed, his voice rough and low. “But you’re loving every second of it. Like a good little girl," he murmured against the skin of your neck, his breath hot as he praised you. The term affectionate yet assertive sent a thrill through you. You arched your back, pressing closer to him, craving more of his touch, more of his approval.
Jake seemed to sense your need, his hands moving with more confidence, sliding up your thighs, his fingers teasing under the hem of your skirt. “You like that, huh?” he asked, his voice a low growl in your ear. You nodded breathlessly, unable to form words as his fingers danced dangerously close to where you wanted him most.
But he pulled back slightly, looking down at you with a smirk. “Say it,” he commanded softly, his eyes locking onto yours.
“Fuck, yeah,” you managed, your voice shaky with desire.
“Mmm, I thought so,” he said, his fingers now slipping under the fabric, his touch bold and knowing. His confidence was intoxicating, his every move calculated to heighten your arousal.
He shifted, positioning himself between your spread legs, his hands roaming freely. “You’re so responsive,” he whispered, his lips trailing down your collarbone, nipping gently.
His hand moved higher, thumb brushing over the fabric of your underwear, his other hand cradling your face as he looked into your eyes, an intense gaze that held you captive.
You moaned softly, tilting your head back to give him better access as he continued to explore, his movements becoming more insistent. “Please, Jake…”
“What do you want, baby?” he asked, his voice stern yet teasing as he continued to stroke over the fabric, his touch precise as he applied pressure against your clit.
“Please touch me,” you pleaded, the edge in your voice betraying how close you were to losing control.
Jake chuckled, the sound dark and promising. “As you wish,” he murmured before slipping his hand beneath your underwear. His fingers found your wet cunt, and he groaned in appreciation. “So wet for me, aren’t you?”
“Only for you,” you managed to gasp out, feeling him begin to move his fingers in slow, deliberate circles that had you writhing beneath him.
“That’s right,” he praised as he increased the pressure, his thumb circling your clit in a rhythm that had you gasping. “You’re doing so well for me, sweetheart.”
he shifted, his strong hands gripping your hips as he pulled you closer to the edge of the couch. He sat back slightly, watching you with that same intense, predatory look that made your heart race. His hand moved down between your legs again, fingers brushing over your sensitive folds, teasing you.
“You look so good like this,” he murmured, his voice low and commanding. “All spread out, just waiting for me.”
Your breath hitched in your throat as his fingers slid along your folds, slow and deliberate. You felt exposed, completely vulnerable to him, and yet the way he was looking at you made you feel powerful at the same time.
“I can feel how much you want this,” he continued, his thumb brushing over your clit in a slow, torturous circle once again. “So desperate for more.”
You moaned softly, your body responding to his touch instantly, your hips rolling up to meet his hand. “Yunnie… please…”
He smirked, clearly enjoying the effect he had on you. “Please what? You have to be more specific, sweetheart.”
You whimpered, your body aching for him. “Please… do something, anything. I need it.”
He leaned in closer, his lips ghosting over yours but not quite touching. “Good girl,” he whispered before slipping one finger inside you, his movements slow and deliberate as he watched your reaction. “So fucking tight for me,” he murmured, his voice full of praise and something darker.
You gasped, your head falling back against the cushions as he began to move his finger in and out of you, the pressure just enough to drive you wild but not enough to satisfy the growing need inside you. “Yun… more, please…”
He chuckled, adding another finger, stretching you in a way that made your toes curl. “Greedy, aren’t you?” he teased, his pace increasing just slightly as he watched your body writhe beneath him.
The way he was talking, the way he praised and teased you, had you on edge, your body thrumming with desire as he expertly worked his fingers inside you. His thumb found your clit again, circling it in a steady rhythm that had your breath coming in ragged gasps.
“Fuck, you feel so good,” he growled, his voice dripping with lust. “So wet and tight around my fingers.”
You could barely respond, the pleasure building too quickly. He leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “I want you to come for me, baby. I want to feel you fall apart. You can do that for me, mh?”
His command sent a shockwave through you, and you arched your back, your body clenching around his fingers as you teetered on the edge. He added a third finger, filling you completely, his thumb pressing harder against your clit.
You cried out, your body shuddering as the orgasm ripped through you, your muscles tightening around his fingers as he continued to pump them in and out of you, drawing out every last wave of pleasure. Your vision blurred, your body trembling as you came, Jake’s fingers working you through it, his touch never relenting.
As the aftershocks rippled through your body, he slowed his movements, his fingers still inside you, gently stroking, making sure you felt every last bit of sensation before he finally withdrew them.
He looked down at you, a satisfied, smug grin on his face
. His fingers, still glistening from you, slid between your parted lips before you could even react, his dominant side shining through. “Taste yourself,” he ordered softly, his voice laced with a commanding edge that sent a jolt of electricity through your already overstimulated body.
Your lips wrapped around his fingers instinctively, tasting yourself on his skin. He watched you closely, eyes dark with desire, as you obediently sucked his fingers, your tongue swirling around them. The taste was musky, sweet, and raw, and his gaze on you made it all the more intense. He bit his bottom lip, clearly enjoying the sight of you like this, his fingers deep in your mouth.
“That’s it,” Jake murmured, his voice rough with lust. “You’re such a good girl. You love this, don’t you?” His thumb brushed over your cheek as you nodded, your body aching for him again despite the intensity of what had just happened.
He grinned down at you, that same cocky, confident smirk that had driven you wild all night. “Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he whispered, sliding his fingers out of your mouth with a soft pop. He brought his lips to yours, kissing you hungrily, tasting both of you as he claimed your mouth once more. His kiss was dominant, his teeth nipping at your bottom lip before he pulled back slightly, his eyes gleaming with something darker, more primal.
Jake’s hands moved down your body, caressing your sides, your thighs, teasing every inch of skin until his fingers slipped under your waistband again, pulling your panties down with ease. His lips twitched into a wicked grin as he settled between your thighs, spreading them open with firm, confident hands. “I need to taste you again.”
You whimpered softly at his words, already squirming beneath him, your body hypersensitive from the last orgasm. But Jake didn’t seem to care. If anything, your whininess seemed to fuel him.
Without another word, he lowered himself, his lips brushing teasingly against your inner thigh before moving closer, his breath warm and heavy against your already wet cunt. He paused for just a moment, glancing up at you with a predatory look in his eyes. “Don’t hold back,” he ordered, his voice low and authoritative. “I want to hear every sound.”
Before you could respond, his mouth was on you.
The first stroke of his tongue sent a shockwave through your body, and you couldn’t stop the high-pitched moan that slipped from your lips. Jake groaned in satisfaction at the sound, gripping your thighs tighter to keep you still as he dove in, his tongue swirling and flicking against your cunt with precision and expertise that left you gasping for air.
“Oh, God—yunnie…” you whimpered, your voice breathy and broken as your hands flew to his hair, tangling in the strands. He groaned against you, the vibration of his voice sending sparks of pleasure through your entire body.
He was relentless, his tongue alternating between soft, teasing strokes and firm, direct pressure, his lips wrapping around your clit as he sucked lightly, just enough to make you squirm and cry out. “Hmm, so sweet,” he murmured against you, his voice rough with need. “So fucking perfect.”
You were falling apart beneath him, your hips grinding against his face as you chased the pleasure he was giving you, but he was in complete control. His hands held you firmly, keeping you exactly where he wanted you, his mouth moving expertly over you, driving you higher and higher.
Your body felt like it was on fire, every nerve ending alight with the sensations he was giving you. And the sounds—your soft whimpers, the breathless gasps, the desperate moans—Jake couldn’t get enough of them. “That’s it,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire between licks. “Let me hear you. I love the way you sound.”
“Jake, please…” you begged, your voice trembling as the pleasure built, your legs trembling against him. You were getting close again, too close, and he knew it.
“Good girl,” he praised, his lips pressing a kiss to your clit before diving back in, sucking hard enough to make you cry out. “I want you to come on my tongue. I want to taste every bit of you.”
The way he said it—his voice so husky—sent you spiraling. You were whiny now, completely at his mercy, every stroke of his tongue pushing you closer to the edge. Jake was relentless, his mouth never letting up as his hands dug into your thighs, holding you in place as he devoured you.
You couldn’t hold back any longer. With a sharp cry, your body tensed, and you came, hard, your orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave. Your thighs shook as Jake continued to lick and suck, drawing out every last bit of pleasure until you were a trembling, gasping mess beneath him.
When you finally stilled, your chest heaving, Jake pulled back, his face flushed, his lips glistening with your arousal. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, grinning at you with that same smug, satisfied look. “You taste fucking amazing,” he said, his voice low and rough as he climbed back up your body, his hands still lingering on your skin. “I could do that all night.”
You were still catching your breath, your body limp beneath him, but his words sent another wave of heat through you. He leaned down, pressing a slow, deep kiss to your lips, letting you taste yourself on his mouth.
As Jake's mouth left a blazing trail up your body, the air between you charged with an almost electric tension, your need for him grew desperate. The way he had consumed you, driven you to edge after edge, had left you breathless, yet craving something more, something deeper. Lying beneath him, your body still quivering with aftershocks, you found your voice, a whisper filled with raw need.
"yun, please," you pleaded, your eyes wide as they locked onto his, filled with an earnest desire that you knew he could never resist. "I need you inside me now."
Jake's eyes darkened further, the intensity within them spiking at your words. The sight of you, so vulnerable, so utterly open and needing him, seemed to unravel the last threads of his control. He cursed under his breath, a low, husky sound that sent shivers down your spine.
"Fuck," he breathed out, his hands already moving to quickly rid himself of his remaining clothes. The sound of fabric rustling was brief, and soon he was as bare as you, his desire evident, his readiness to claim you palpable in the air.
Without another word, but with a gaze that seared into you, Jake positioned himself at your entrance. His hand gripped your thigh, lifting and spreading you open to him as he lined himself up. The head of his cock teased at your wetness, making you both groan at the contact.
Then, with a thrust that left no room for doubt in his intent, he entered you fully, burying himself deep within you in one smooth, firm motion. You cried out, a sound of pure ecstasy, as he filled you completely, stretching you, completing the connection that your bodies seemed to crave.
"You're so tight, so fucking perfect," Jake growled, his voice a blend of admiration and raw lust as he began to move. His thrusts were powerful and deliberate, each one driving deep, hitting just the right spots to make your vision blur.
His hands were everywhere, gripping your hips, your thighs, pulling you into every thrust. "Look at you, so desperate for it," he taunted softly, his words degrading yet laced with an undeniable affection that only heightened the intensity between you. "You love this, don't you? My cock filling you up?"
"F-fuck, y-yes," you managed to stammer, the pleasure making it hard to form coherent thoughts. "Please, more, yun, please…"
"That’s it, beg for it," he commanded, his voice rough as his pace quickened, his thrusts becoming even more forceful. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, punctuated by your moans and his heavy breathing.
"All fucking mine," he asserted again, leaning down to capture your lips in a fierce, possessive kiss that stole your breath away. His lips then trailed to your ear, where he whispered, "Cum for me. I can feel you pulse around me."
The combination of his deep, relentless thrusts and his commanding voice was too much. You felt another climax building rapidly, more intense than the last. "yunnie, I'm going to—" you gasped, unable to finish your sentence as the wave broke over you.
"Fuck, yes," Jake encouraged, feeling your walls tighten around him, sucking him in so deliciously. He wouldn't last long if you continued to clench around him like that. But he kept moving, relentless, driven by the sounds of your pleasure, by the feel of you clenching around him. "That’s it, come for me, come on my cock."
You did, spectacularly, your entire body convulsing as you clung to him, your cries filling the room. And still, he didn't stop, his thrusts never faltering, drawing out your orgasm, prolonging the bliss until you were limp and spent beneath him.
Jake finally slowed, his movements gentling as he came down from his own high, his climax evident in his strained expression and the deep, guttural sound that escaped him as he came inside you, painting your walls white. He collapsed beside you, both of you slick with sweat, breathing heavily, yet wrapped in a profound satisfaction.
Jake, still breathing heavily, let out a low chuckle, pulled out of you, and rolled onto his side, propping himself up on one elbow as he looked at you, a satisfied, almost cocky grin on his face. “Wow, that was... something,” he said, his voice laced with humor and exhaustion.
You laughed weakly, your chest rising and falling as you tried to catch your breath. “Yeah,” you agreed, “something is an understatement.”
Jake smirked, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from your sweaty forehead. “How are you feeling? You good?” His tone softened, the teasing edge giving way to genuine concern as he gently ran his hand along your arm.
You smiled at him, feeling a warmth that had nothing to do with the physicality of what just happened. “Yeah, I’m good. Exhausted, but good.”
He nodded, his fingers lightly tracing patterns on your skin. "Hold on," he said suddenly, getting up with a slight groan, clearly as drained as you were. You watched him as he fumbled for the blanket draped over the back of the couch. He grabbed it, then plopped back down beside you, draping it over both of you before pulling you close to his chest.
"Comfy now?" he asked, his voice softer, more affectionate, as his fingers absentmindedly stroked your arm, grounding you in the moment.
You nestled into him, feeling safe and warm in the cocoon of the blanket and his embrace. “Yeah, much better. You?”
He chuckled, running a hand through his messy hair. “Completely wrecked, to be honest,” he admitted, a sheepish grin crossing his face. “But in the best way.”
You laughed, your body still humming with the aftereffects of everything, but now wrapped in a comforting warmth. “Same. I don’t think I can move for at least a week.”
Jake smirked and kissed the top of your head, his voice dipping into a teasing tone again. “Well, if that’s the price of making you come multiple times, I’d say it’s worth it.”
You snorted, nudging him with your elbow. “Stop it,” you giggled. “You’re going to give yourself a bigger ego than you already have.”
Jake grinned, unabashed. “Can you blame me? I mean…” He gestured vaguely to your still-tangled bodies, raising an eyebrow. “That was pretty fucking impressive.”
You rolled your eyes, but you were smiling. “Okay, fine, I’ll give you that,” you conceded. “But let’s not make it a habit of me being unable to walk after.”
His grin turned mischievous as he pulled you even closer. “No promises. But hey, maybe we should do this more often. You know, for... stress relief. Studies show it’s great for mental health,” he said with an exaggerated air of seriousness.
You burst into laughter, shaking your head. “Oh, really? Studies, huh?”
“Yep,” he nodded sagely, trying and failing to keep a straight face. “As your best friend, it’s my duty to make sure you’re properly… taken care of.”
You smacked him lightly on the chest, but your laughter was infectious, and he chuckled along with you. “You’re ridiculous,” you said, settling back into the warmth of his embrace.
Jake grinned down at you, his fingers still gently stroking your arm in that calming, soothing way. “Maybe,” he agreed, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “But you like it.”
You smiled, a sense of calm washing over you as the playful banter died down into a comfortable silence. The exhaustion was starting to catch up to both of you, but there was something so peaceful about the way you fit against each other, the post-storm calm settling in.
As your eyes started to drift closed, you mumbled, “We really should do this more often.”
Jake’s voice, equally sleepy but laced with amusement, replied, “That’s the smartest thing you’ve said all night.”
#enhypen#enhypen x reader#enhypen scenarios#enha x reader#enhypen smut#enhypen jake#jake enhypen#jake sim smut#jake sim imagines#jake sim x reader#jake sim#enhypen jake smut#enhypen jake imagines#enhypen jake fluff#sim jaeyun x you#sim jaeyun smut#sim jaeyun fluff#sim jaeyun x reader#sim jaeyun#enhypen fluff#lee heeseung smut#park jay smut#park sunghoon smut#softdom!jake#best friends to lovers#enhypen best friends to lovers#kim sunoo smut#yang jungwon smut
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
cyber sex || Lee haechan
ִ ࣪𖤐.ᐟ now playing- cyber sex: doja cat
ִ ࣪𖤐.ᐟ Audioguy!haechan x fem!reader
ִ࣪𖤐.ᐟ Genre/ warnings: smut, college au, 18+ mdni!, needy sub haechan/ soft dom reader, cyber sex, unprotected sex, praising, auralism, creampie ig?, oral (fem receiving), marking (if you squint), begging. Kinda nerdy looking haechan… Lmk if I miss anything.
ִ ࣪𖤐.ᐟ Wc- 8.2k
authors note- omg… lmk what you think guys. Part 2 maybe I have some ideas…👀. No proof read cus lol. I hope you enjoy! <3
══════════════════════════
One day your friend joked to you and told you about these corny little audio guys that were on sound cloud. You were captivated to say the least, and curiosity filled your brain so that night you found yourself on sound cloud searching. Most of them were very laughable like your friend suggested, but then you came across this one profile.
"hcillusion119." You muttered out loud, biting your lip in curiosity as you clicked on the profile.
The first thing you noticed was instead of one of those anime boy banner things, it was just black with his username splat in the center. Ok, so far so good. The next thing that you noticed was how the profile description were just the words: "just listen, you won't regret ;)"
You giggled to yourself from how full of himself this guy was, so you decided to listen to an audio, expecting to laugh just like the other times, but this one was different. His voice wasn't what you had expected, it was whiny, but not in a high-pitched, irritating way. There was something desperate in the way he guided the listener through every step, an intensity that hooked you in. You had to admit, this was nothing like what you heard previously.
After the first audio you thought you would be done with it, but it kept creeping on your mind, causing you to go back to the one you were most familiar with, but after a while you started exploring his other audios and soon found yourself subscribed. No one knew you were into this, and you were too embarrassed to even play his audios if anyone was in the same proximity as you, this was your little secret— he was your little secret.
"Hey guys. We're gonna be doing something a bit different today, so just sit back and listen to me, okay?"
You sat there quietly, your body relaxing as his smooth voice seeped into your ears. It felt like he was speaking directly to you, and you couldn't help but nod along as if he could see you.
"I just want to start off by saying that we've reached 20k followers up here. I'm very grateful for all of you guys and I'll make sure to put out great content. That being said, to show my gratitude I will be hosting a little giveaway, or I guess it's like that. I want to pick one of you to have a private call with me on insta. Crazy huh? Only the best for you guys. To enter, all you have to do is comment on this post what you like about my content...and please, don't be weird... joking haha. The winner will get a private message tomorrow at 8pm. Good luck."
An embarrassing smile painted your smile as you typed out your comment on the post. You knew you probably weren't gonna win, and honestly you weren't even sure you could handle it if you did win, but something in you burned at the thought of what could happen—what it would be like to hear his voice in real time, just for you.
It was impossible to focus on anything else the next day, you even made an anonymous insta account just incase you won. The time went agonizingly slow, you honestly thought you couldn't wait any longer, but finally it was time.
You sat on your bed after a long day of class and work, checking your notification center obsessively, heart racing with both hope and dread.
8:05 came, then 8:10, and still nothing. By 8:15 you were ready to give up, the little spark of hope you had starting to flicker out. Just as you were about to close the app, your phone buzzed, a bright orange message appearing at the top of your screen.
hcillusion119- hey, sorry for the late text, I'll make it up to you when we call, but I want to let you know that you won.
Your eyes widened as you stared at the notification, your heart leaping into your throat. No way. It had to be too good to be true. You fumbled with your phone, nearly dropping it as you jumped up in shock. After pacing around your room for a solid five minutes, trying to wrap your mind around it, you finally opened the message.
unknown825: omg tysm TT
hcillusion119: no, thank you :)
hcillusion119: will you plz choose a date and time?
Your fingers hovered over the keyboard as you considered your options, a thousand scenarios racing through your mind. You could cancel, let someone else, someone braver, take the opportunity. Instead, you found yourself typing.
unknown825: umm, well are you available tonight at 10?
There. You've done it, now there was no turning back.
hcillusion119: yea im available tonight. you're not very patient are you lol? what's your insta so I can call?
unknown825: I just like to get things done. my insta's the same as my user on here.
hcillusion119: ok, did you get my dm?
unknown825: yes, I'll talk to you then.
You barely registered your response before throwing your phone onto the bed, adrenaline rushing through your veins. Your heart was pounding so hard you could hear it. This was real. It was actually happening. You had less than two hours before the call, and the weight of it started to settle on you. What if you said something dumb? What if your voice shook? What if you just... froze?
The minutes went by slowly, agonizingly. You checked the time over and over, becoming more and more nervous with each glance.
9:45... almost time. You laid down in bed, trying to calm your racing thoughts, your phone clutched tightly in your hand.
9:59.
You took a deep breath, staring at the screen as you scrolled through Instagram, pretending to distract yourself, but your heart was in your throat.Any moment now, your phone would light up, and you'd hear his voice—this time just for you.
Incoming call from hcillusion119
You took a deep breath, letting it ring for a moment before picking up, the silence so intense you could almost hear a pin drop.
Then his voice broke through.
"Hey."
A chill ran down your spine, sharper than you'd expected. Hearing his voice in your ears felt different this time—more personal, more intimate.
"Hi."
Your voice came out low, almost shy. You sat the phone on your stomach, unsure of what to do with your hands. The awkward smile on your face wasn't helping you feel any less flustered.
"How are you doing today?" he asked, his tone casual but warm.
"I'm good, exhausted. What about you?"
"I'm good too," he replied. "tired as well."
"Why are you tired?" You responded.
"Well, I just moved... like yesterday, so."
"Oh, cool. Where did you move to?"
"I can't tell you that." he said with a teasing edge to his voice.
"Oh, right... I guess I understand."
The conversation wasn't flowing like you'd imagined. It was awkward. You questioned why you were so nervous in the first place.
"What's your name?" His voice dropped lower and softer, catching you off guard.
"I can't tell you." you mimicked, trying to match his playful tone.
"Ahh, I see what you're doing. Well unknown825, why are you so tired?"
"I had school and work, so I'm pretty worn down."
"School?" He sounded curious, his tone lighter.
"Yeah, I'm in college. You're not like... an old man right?"
He laughed, the sound soft and genuine.
"No, I'm in college too."
"Oh cool."
Silence fell between you again, the awkward kind that made your heart race for no reason. You didn't want to keep bombarding him with boring questions, but you also didn't want the conversation to just end. Still, you felt that sinking feeling that maybe you should've canceled after all.
"So, what's your favorite audio?" he asked, breaking the silence.
"Stress Relief."
"Ah, who would've thought?" He chuckled, his voice dropping an octave. "So you like to be talked through it, huh?"
You hummed in response, turning onto your stomach as you clutched the phone.
"Do you like being talked through it?" You asked, your tone slightly teasing.
The line went quiet, and for a second, you wondered if you pushed too far, but then you heard him lick his lips, a small noise you wouldn't have caught if you hadn't been listening so intently.
"Yeah, I do." he admitted, voice deeper now. "Can't help it when I hear a pretty voice like yours."
Your cheeks flushed as a smile crept across your face. "So what are you saying? You want me to talk you through it?"
"I never said that." he interrupted quickly. "Besides, you wouldn't be able to handle it, Miss Stress Relief."
He laughed softly.
"No, you're the one who wouldn't be able to handle it." You shot back, your voice in a mocking tone.
"Are you trying to challenge me?" His tone shifted, there was an edge to it now.
You hummed again, licking your lips before replying. "I never said that,"
You could feel the tension building, the invisible line between the two of you tightening with each word exchanged. You were both teasing each other.
"but I know you want me to." you continued, voice low. "If you asked nicely... maybe I would."
Silence.
The only thing you could hear was his breathing—slow, but heavy. Even that sounded beautiful, like every part of him was designed to captivate you. You waited, the pressure coiling tighter in the pit of your stomach. Then his voice came again, softer this time.
"Talk me through it."
But there was a command in his tone.
"I said nicely."
There was a pause, and you could almost picture him struggling with the request before he spoke again.
"Ca—Can you please talk me through it?"
"That's more like it." You whispered, smirking. "See what happens when you listen? Now... are your pants down? If they aren't, pull them down."
You waited, hearing the soft rustle of fabric on the other end. He was listening, and the thought made your pulse quicken. Thrill ran through your body, you had never done anything like this before.
"What do you want me to do next?" His voice was quieter now, the assertiveness from before completely gone.
"I want you to touch yourself, but not too fast, okay?"
You paused, waiting for his breathing to change—waiting for him to obey.
"Are you doing it?"
"Yeah." he breathed out, almost as if the word escaped him unintentionally.
"Good. Now, I want you to keep going, but don't finish until I tell you to. Can you handle that?"
There was a pause, his breath quickening.
"I can handle it." he replied, though his voice wavered just a bit.
"We'll see."
You could feel the heat radiating through the connection, charging the atmosphere around you. His breathing was heavier now, more ragged, each inhalation betraying just how hard he was trying to please you.
"Tell me how it feels." you encouraged, your voice silky and low.
"It feels... so good." he stammered, his words interrupted by tiny gasps. "I want you. I want to feel you. I want you here with me." He spoke again.
A shiver ran down your spine at the vulnerability in his tone. The yearning in his voice made you only think about him—how he sounded, how he felt.
"Touch yourself harder, let me hear you." You whispered.
He followed your command, his voice becoming strained and desperate Each moan a mix of pleasure with restraint, and you could practically visualize—lost in passion, chasing the edge of that sweet release.
"Are you going faster?" You asked, your heart pounding with anticipation.
"No... I- I won't until you tell me to." he responded, voice trembling, you could hear the struggle in his words.
"You're such a good boy. You can go faster." You could feel a rush of satisfaction at how he gave himself over to you.
"Fuck." He let out in a breathy moan. You could hear his hand moving faster, driving you to insanity knowing how desperate he was for you.
"Just like that." you murmured. "You want it, don't you?"
He gasped softly, almost pleadingly. "Yes, I want it so bad."
Before you could speak again, he interrupted. "I don't know how much longer I can hold back." His voice full with need.
"You can handle it, right? Well.. that's what you told me." You reminded him, your tone teasing. "Were you lying to me?
"No, but—" You could hear the struggle in his voice, the way his breaths quickened as he fought against the sensation.
"Please." A groan reached your ears, confirming your suspicion. "Please, I need—" His voice was whiny, but it was obvious he was trying to keep it in.
"Need what?" you interrupted, a smile on your face. "Permission?"
"Yes." He responded immediately, his breath rigid.
"You're close, aren't you?" you teased. "Beg for it. Use that voice and tell me how much you want it."
His breathing became frantic as he pleaded. "I want to cum so badly, please. I can't hold back anymore. I'll do anything you want... just please, let me finish."
You hummed softly, his voice seeping into your ears. His voice was a mix of desperation, coming out in broken gasps.
"Please... I'm begging you." The urgency in his tone echoed through your mind making you give in.
"Finish for me." You said softly.
The sound that escaped him was pure ecstasy. His voice melting into a series of gasps and whimpers— loud and desperate, sent shivers through you.
You wanted to be there, to feel him come undone against you.
"You did so well."
"Thank you." he murmured softly, trying to catch his breath, coming down from his high.
"Well... it's pretty late, I should get going." You spoke.
"Yeah cool, I understand. Have a good night." He responded, still sounding a bit winded.
"You too."
And with that you hung up, turning off your phone completely before closing your eyes, drifting to sleep as you thought about what just happened.
══════════════════════════
A week had passed and you still couldn't shake that night. You didn't know whether to feel disappointed or proud of the night you had with a complete stranger on the internet. It was truly something you had never done before.
Walking into class you noticed an unfamiliar face talking to your professor as you walked to your seat. He was cute, you can admit that, but his sudden appearance already irritated you. You groaned as you saw your professor point your way, and the stranger started walking toward you. Currently you're working on a project that requires a partner. Luckily, you ended up working alone due to the odd number of students, but you could tell that was going to change as he walked towards you.
Your eyes immediately dropped to your phone, hoping if you pretended not to see him, maybe he would just walk past, but of course you're not that lucky.
"Hey, I'm Haechan." His voice pulled you from your thoughts. "The professor told me to partner with you for the project."
Your heart skipped a beat, and not in a good way. His voice—it was familiar, uncomfortably familiar. You felt a strange chill creep up your spine, but you quickly brushed it off. It couldn't be him, right?
"Hi, I'm Y/n." You replied, your voice coming out more clipped than you intended.
His eyes squinted ever so slightly as he looked at you in silence for a moment.
"Do you know what you're doing, or am I gonna have to teach you?" You didn't mean to speak harshly, but your words came out sharper than expected.
"I know what I'm doing." He answered, his voice low as he took a seat beside you.
You swear your blood ran cold every time you heard him speak. You listened to your fav audio guys voice a lot, you couldn't lie and say that it wasn't almost the same. It made you feel a little weirded out, only making you think of the night even more every time he spoke, but you just tried to ignore it and focus.
"So, we need to do a few things by the end of next week." You spoke.
He nodded but remained silent, his eyes locked on you in a way that made you feel exposed. His lips parted slightly as he continued to stare.
You cleared your throat, trying to ignore the tension. "I don't like strangers coming in my house, can I come over yours to work when we don't have class?"
"Yes, that works. Can I have your phone so I can give you my number? You know, to keep in touch." He asked.
You nodded in agreement, taking your phone and opening the phone app, handing it to him.
You looked away for one second, expecting him to quickly type in his number, but instead, you saw him swipe across the screen, heading straight for your Instagram.
"What are you doing?" You asked, irritation in your voice as you snatched your phone from him.
"I was tryna give you my insta like I said." He answered defensively, voice cracking slightly as he stared at you offensively.
"You said number." You replied, narrowing your eyes.
"Well I meant insta." He responded hastily, putting out his hand demandingly.
"Who do you think you are?" You snapped. "You're going to give me your number, it's way more practical." You handed him the phone again, this time watching him like a hawk as he slowly typed in his number, his eyes darting up at you now and then with that same suspicious glint.
"See how easy it is when you listen." You grinned, Haechan looking at you with glistening, suspicious eyes as you started typing on your computer.
"Why do you have SoundCloud and Spotify?" He asked suddenly, staring at your phone screen.
"What?" You hummed, not breaking contact from your computer.
"Why do you have SoundCloud AND Spotify. You only need one music app, right?" He asked, emphasizing his words sassily.
You turned to him, rolling your eyes, exasperated. "Why are YOU so noisy."
At this point you were clearly irritated and just wanted to get your work done, alone.
"Do you have something to hide?" He asked, leaning a bit closer, his eyes gleaming mischievously as he stared up at you.
You looked into his annoyed before sighing and turning back to your computer.
"I just listen to unreleased music up there, happy?" He hummed in response, not entirely convinced, but he let it go, turning his attention back to his phone.
"Are you busy tonight? I need to come over so we can discuss a new plan and get started." You didn't break any contact from your computer, typing steadily.
"You're not very patient are you?" He chuckled, scrolling through his phone.
"I just like to get things done." You responded.
He looked up from his phone, eyebrow raised as he stared at you suspiciously, as if he heard that line before.
"Yeah, that's fine. Come over at 6pm, I'll text you the address." He answered, looking down at his phone again.
"Ok, now get off your phone and give me your email so we can start working." You said.
"Whatever." He rolled his eyes but complied, turning off his phone as he rattled off his email address.
══════════════════════════
You stood at his apartment door, annoyed as no one came to let you in. You turned around, getting ready to leave. The day had already been stressful, and now you were almost at boiling anger.
"Where are you going?"
His voice stopped you in your tracks. You didn't want to turn around, didn't want to acknowledge him—everything in you screamed to leave, but something about his voice pulled you back.
Slowly, you turned to face him, your gaze locking onto his. Haechan stood in the doorway, his frame leaning casually against the doorframe, eyebrows raised as if he hadn't just kept you waiting.
"What took you so long?" You walked toward him, your tone sharp as you fought to keep your composure.
"I was jerking off." He said sarcastically, a cocky smirk landing on his face as you looked at him with annoyance and disgust.
"Ah!" He yelped suddenly, launching himself toward you in mock attack, his hands making an exaggerated gesture as if he was going to grab you.
"Stop that was disgusting Haechan, what the fuck is wrong with you, seriously?" You asked, voice in obvious irritation.
He rolled his eyes, moving out the way so you could walk in. "Learn to take a joke."
Even though you had just got there he was already getting on your nerves.
You walked into his studio apartment, even though it was small, he made it look quite spacious and comfortable. His room was quite dark, purple and blue led lights surrounding his desk that sat next to his messily made bed, the atmosphere felt almost... intimate.
"It's so dark and scary in here." You joked trying to shake off your earlier discomfort, setting down your belongings and taking a seat on his bed.
Haechan said nothing, his face unreadable as he sat down in his desk chair, spinning it slightly to face you.
"So, why do you have a big microphone and a gaming headset?" you asked, pointing to the equipment scattered across his desk.
He looked at you, his expression unreadable but his jaw tightening. "What do you mean?"
"I mean... why the big setup? You recording something? Streaming? Or... something else?"
He shifted uncomfortably in his chair, his gaze darting to the microphone and then to the floor. "I just like good audio." He muttered defensively.
"Good audio for what?"
For a moment, he said nothing, only licking his lips as if buying time.
"Huh?" You spoke in a mocking tone, raising your eyebrows as you looked at him. "You can't answer?"
"God, why are you so noisy geez." He spoke defensively, getting up from his chair and snatching the cord from the computer, grabbing the microphone, throwing it in a drawer with more force than necessary.
"Oh, so when you ask questions I'm supposed to just answer, but when I ask you it's different?" You stood up, crossing your arms as you glared at him.
"Yes." He crossed his arms too, mimicking you with a smug expression.
"Do you have something to hide Haechan?" You asked softly, inching closer to him, his sparkling eyes looking into yours as you moved closer.
"Ha, no." He chuckled lightly, though it came out shaky, his shoulders stiffening as he backed up against the desk, knocking into it with a soft thud.
"Shit." He whispered, turning around quickly, scrambling to pick up all the items that fell, growing startled as he turned back around to see you standing in front of him.
"Why are you so nervous Haechan?" You murmured faintly, your voice drifting into his ears, making his mind race.
"I'm- I'm not" His voice cracked, betraying him as he forced out a chuckle, but it died quickly.
"You sure about that?" you whispered, leaning in just a bit more, your eyes locked on his. You could practically feel his pulse as it quickened at the base of his neck.
His eyes flickered down to your lips before darting back up.
"You act like you're so tough, like you got everything figured out, but here you are, all jumpy and flustered." You teased.
Haechan let out a slow breath, his hands grabbing the edge of his desk, trying to hold himself up. "You think you know me?" His voice was low, barely more than a growl as he tried to regain control of the situation.
You smirked, backing up just a little, giving him space to breathe. "I'm starting to get the picture."
He stood there, silent for a moment, watching you with wary eyes. The tension between you was heavy, but before either of you could say anything more, his phone buzzed on the desk.
He glanced at the screen, then back at you, something unreadable passing over his face. "You gonna stay and work, or you leaving?"
"Let's just get this done." You said, taking a deep breath, breaking eye contact as you turned toward the bed.
The room felt different now, charged with something unsaid. You settled back onto the bed, pulling your laptop onto your lap, feeling Haechan's gaze on you.
"Hurry up and pull out your laptop. I don't wanna be here all night." You spoke, turning to him.
His tongue grazed the inside of his mouth as he looked at you with irritated eyes. "Ok."
══════════════════════════
It had been over a month since you and Haechan have become friends, and you could say that he was bearable now— ok, you were kinda in love with him. How could you not be? His witty personalty, his face, his voice it was hard to not fall for him, especially when you saw him everyday. You and him were always together, hanging out mostly everyday, even after the project, so it wasn't a surprise when you got a text from him.
hey, can you come over im boreddd?
yeah
doors unlocked, just come in.
ok
"Welcome home." He joked as you walked in.
You smiled, setting down your stuff at the door, removing your shoes to join him on the bed. He was wearing his signature outfit, a black shirt and gray sweatpants—thick frames sitting on his face, his black hair messily in a middle part.
"So what do you want to do?" He asked, turning to you.
"I don't know Haechan you invited me over." You responded, scrolling on your phone.
"Let's just watch a movie." He said.
You nodded in response, prompting him to get up to grab some snacks.
Your eyes scanned the room, stopping at his computer. Soundcloud was wide open, the screen pretty much screaming for your attention, and there you saw a familiar banner.
"What chips do you want." He asked, looking over to you, noticing you staring at the computer. You broke contact with the computer, looking at him, still a little taken aback.
"Uh, it- it doesn't matter." You said, looking back at the computer subconsciously. His eyes joined yours, staring at the computer screen then back into yours.
"Oh oops, is it too bright?" He asked, walking over to his desk and exiting out of the tab, turning down the computer brightness.
"Yea thanks." You giggled, turning back to look at your phone.
Your head flooded a thousand thoughts.
Ok, you could be overreacting and he could just be a pervert like you and you both happened to listen to the same guy, or it could be something he just stumbled across, but everything lined up so perfectly.
You turned the phone away from him, turning down your brightness as you opened Soundcloud. You went straight to his profile and the banner was obviously the same, no denying that, but you looked around the account for more hints. You couldn't find anything else, it's not like you could ask him anyways, right?
You were about to give up, but you took another good look at the profile, his banner catching your attention. You sat examining the username that was in the center 'hcillusion119." What could that mean?
"Hey Haechan."
"What?" He turned to look at you.
"If you had to choose a number what would it be? Make it in the hundreds."
"I don't know, maybe one hundred and nineteen."
Your eyes widened as you stared at your phone. No way...
"What are your initials again?" You asked, looking at your phone.
"LDH, Why?" He asked.
"Huh, where did the D come from?" You turned to him with questioning eyes.
"That's my real name Y/n. My other initials are LHC, Why are you asking?" He answered with a snarky tone.
You sat staring at him for a second, the user name replaying over and over again in your mind. That was it— the hc stood for Haechan. Of course he would choose a name like that: 'Haechan Illusion 119', it was right in front of your face.
"I have to go to the bathroom, take a second to get back normal because you're acting weird." He said, interrupting your thoughts.
You turned to him nodding, going back on your phone like there wasn't a care in the world. You sat there waiting patiently for the bathroom door to shut and lock, waiting a few seconds before sprinting up, taking a seat in his computer chair.
Thankfully, he didn't lock the computer, so you could easily access everything. You turned the brightness up and quickly typed in the website, before you even typed in the whole word it came up. You clicked on it, and there it was— that banner, those audios, and a 'edit' button.
Your eyes widened, you always had a feeling that it was him, especially when you heard his voice, but something was telling you that it was too good to be true— this explained everything.
The microphone, why he was persistently trying to get into your insta, why he asked about Soundcloud on your phone, everything was piecing together. You quickly typed instagram on the search bar, praying that it was logged in, and thank goodness it was. You went straight to his dms, a whole bunch of randoms of course, but then you saw it: 'unknown825'. You sat still for a second, staring at your username, clicking on it. You laughed to yourself quietly, you didn't know whether to feel relived, nervous, or...
"It's you, isn't it?" he said from behind you, startling you.
You turned around, heart racing. "I- um-" You stuttered, locking eyes with him, still sitting in the chair as he drifted towards you.
"You know, the first day we met in class I had a feeling it was you, but I didn't wanna jump to conclusions— goodness you looked like you were about to fall apart every time I spoke though, how could I not get suspicious?"
"I don't know what you're talking about Haechan." Your response came out a little less convincing than you thought.
"I tried to get into your insta, but there was nothing. I looked on your computer, nothing as well. Soundcloud? logged out. God you're good at hiding this." He inched closer and closer to you, your breathing getting heavier with every step.
"I couldn't just ask, expose what I do if it wasn't you. You thought the same thing too right, wanted to ask, but you couldn't? You had nothing to lose regardless, but I took you for one of those kind of girls— the kind that acts all innocent in front of everyone, but has a deeper, dirtier secret that you're hiding." His voice was seductive, yet mocking as well, you cant say that it didn't hurt your ego a little to spoken to like a little slut who got caught doing something they weren't supposed to be doing.
"What, the cat got your tongue? What happened to you being so dominant?" He teased, sitting on his bed next to the chair, grabbing the arm rest and turning you to face him.
"You know, if you're wrong then you look like a fucking idiot." You scoffed.
You tried to make yourself sound as convincing and possible, tried to make the situation seem like it didn't bother you, but honestly you were a little uptight about it. It's all fun and games when it's on the phone and you could just block each other and not talk ever again, but in person it was so much more.
"There she is, the Y/n I know and love. You know, I've waited for this moment. The moment where you would finally be so fucking desperate to know if it was me, been waiting for you to go through my stuff. You wouldn't do it though, surprisingly, so I just gave you a little push." He smiled, placing his hand on your knee.
You shoved his hand off of you. "What are you talking about, gave me a little push?" You asked, giving him questioning eyes.
"You think I would just keep Soundcloud wide open on my computer Y/n, be serious? I thought you were smarter than that." He smiled cockily, titling his head as you looked deeply into his eyes.
It was a setup. He set this whole thing up to catch you on purpose, and you fell right into his fucking trap.
"You're despicable. You did it, you caught me... now what?" You asked, leaning back in the chair, crossing your arms.
He took a look at the computer that was behind you, pointing to it, prompting you to look. You can't lie and say that you and hcillusion119, well, Haechan didn't do this call thing often, and that's exactly what he was hinting at— the call that took place two days ago.
"Remember what you said we would do if we were together, what you would do to me?" He asked, his sweet, desperate voice melting your brain like ice cream on a hot summer day.
"No Haechan, I don't remember."
Of course, you remembered. How could you forget? Every late night conversation was carved into your mind. Each call felt like an escape, an intimate secret between just the two of you, leaving you aching for more. Now, the weight of his presence made it impossible to deny your own desires. You were curious...no, desperate to know if what you shared over the phone would be even more intoxicating in person.
"Let me remind you... please?" he whined, his voice tugging at something deep within you. He leaned down, his hand trembling slightly as he grabbed yours, guiding it to his cheek. The warmth of his skin sent shivers through your body, and without thinking, your thumb began to gently stroke his face.
His eyes closed as he leaned into your touch, his breath coming out in shaky sighs. "I'll be your good boy." he whispered, barely audible.
Your heart raced, the thrill of finally having him in front of you, not just a voice through a phone but real, and within reach. You could see the way his lips parted slightly, the rise and fall of his chest. It felt good to finally be close, to finally have him like this.
Without breaking eye contact, you slowly withdrew your hand from his cheek. His eyes snapping open, filled with need, searching your face as you got up from your seat. His gaze followed you, not wanting to even be an inch away from you.
"Go to the headboard." You murmured softly.
Haechan reacted instantly, rushing to the head of the bed, pressing his back firmly against the headboard. He adjusted his glasses, his lips slightly parted, eyes locked onto yours.
You crawled onto the bed, your movements slow. His breath hitched as you came wanting more, needing you. You reached him, your body hovering just above his, your fingers grazing the side of his face again.
"Tell me," you whispered, leaning in close enough for your breath to ghost over his lips. "what did I say I was gonna do?"
His eyes sparkled, you could see him unraveling, caught in the web of everything you had both imagined during those late nights. You both knew that you imagined each other's faces on those calls after you met in person for the first time, and now it was all a reality.
“You said... you'd make me beg." His voice was a trembling whisper
"So beg me." You whispered, your voice soft, lips brushing against his ear, sending a wave of heat through him.
You felt him tense under your fingertips. His eyes, wide and pleading, locked onto yours with a desperation that made your heart pound. "Can I kiss you?" he asked, voice small, almost a whimper.
You smiled at the sight of him completely undone in front of you. You slowly lifted his glasses up onto his forehead, pushing the messy strands of his hair away from his face. Your fingers lightly grazed his skin, and he closed his eyes, leaning into your touch.
"That's not how you ask." You teased, your voice low as you leaned in closer, just enough for your lips to brush his, but not meet fully.
He let out a shaky breath, his body trembling with need. "Please... Can I please kiss you Y/n? I need you," he breathed, his voice barely holding together. "I want your lips on mine so bad."
Your smile deepened as you leaned in, teasingly grazing your lips against his again, just barely. His lips parted, waiting for you to close the gap, but you pulled back, watching as frustration and longing flooded his expression. He swallowed hard, his eyes darkening with desire as he leaned closer, his forehead resting against yours.
"Please." He whispered.
You finally gave in, pressing your lips against his in a heated, passionate kiss. The moment your lips met, it was like something electric passed between you both. The kiss deepened as his lips moved urgently against yours, tongues tangling together as if you were both trying to consume each other, neither wanting to pull away. You melted into him, your body pressing closer.
The kiss broke only when you both needed air, both of you gasping as you parted. Haechan's lips were swollen, his breath shallow, his chest heaving as he stared at you, his eyes filled with lust.
"Can I touch you?" He whispered, his voice needy.
You nodded, your heart racing even faster as he shifted you higher in his lap, his hands trailing slowly, up your sides. His fingers caressed your skin through your clothes and you felt his breath hitch as he buried his face into the crook of your neck, kissing your skin softly at first, then harder.
His lips moved down, sucking and biting gently at your skin, leaving marks. His hands explored your body, grabbing, squeezing, and pulling you closer, his touch growing more possessive with every second. His hips moved beneath you, the friction of his lap against you sending waves of heat pooling in your stomach. You gasped as he rocked you back and forth, grinding you against him.
Small, breathy moans escaped your lips as his mouth moved from your neck, traveling down to your collarbone, where he kissed and nipped at your skin, his hands sliding lower, gripping your hips firmly and guiding your movements against him.
"Fuck... feels so good." He whimpered, his voice strained as he broke away from your skin, his head falling back against the headboard. His eyes were half lidded as he watched you move.
Your hands found their way into his hair, tugging lightly as he groaned, his body reacting to every touch, every movement. His grip on your waist tightened, and you felt him twitch beneath you as he pulled you even closer, his hips bucking up against you.
"God Y/n." He whispered breathlessly, lips finding yours again, the kiss hungry and desperate, his tongue exploring your mouth as if he couldn't get enough of you.
He pulled back slightly, looking into your eyes. "I wanna taste you." He desperately spoke, looking at you with begging eyes.
Your fingers slid through his hair as you watched him, his breath quickening, his hands resting on your hips. He was desperate for your permission.
"I wanna taste you." He repeated. He was looking up at you, his lips parted, pleading. "Please Y/n... I'll make you feel so good, I promise."
You let out a soft hum, your fingers tracing along his jaw, watching as his body visibly tensed, waiting for your response. You could see the hunger in his eyes, the way he couldn't tear his gaze away from you. He was completely under your control, willing to do anything you asked.
"You'll do exactly what I want?" You whispered, your thumb grazing over his cheek as you leaned closer, teasing him with the lightest touch. He swallowed hard, nodding quickly.
"Yes—yes." He breathed, his voice barely holding together. His eyes were wide, shimmering with anticipation, his grip on your hips tightening, almost as if he were afraid you'd pull away. "Please, just let me. I'll make you feel so good Y/n, I swear."
Your lips curved into a small smile as you stroked the side of his head, leaning in just enough for him to feel the warmth of your breath. "Then go ahead baby. Make me feel good."
The moment the words left your mouth, his eyes lit up. Without wasting another second, he gently pushed you onto your back, his hands moving with urgency as he pulled down your pants and underwear in one motion.
He paused for a moment, his gaze locking onto you with awe, like he was seeing something he had dreamed about for far too long. His hands traced along your thighs, and you could feel the faint trembling in his fingers as he spread your legs, positioning himself between them. His eyes grew wide as he took in the sight of you, his lips parting slightly as he let out a soft exhale, his breath warm against your skin.
"You're... perfect." He murmured, almost to himself, his voice barely above a whisper. He leaned in, his lips brushing your inner thigh, sending a jolt of pleasure up your spine. You could feel his desire, his need to please you.
Slowly, he began kissing his way up your thighs, his lips trailing delicately. Every kiss sent a spark of heat through your body, and you could feel your pulse quicken as he got closer and closer to where you wanted him most. His hands gripped your hips firmly, keeping you in place as his breath fanned over your core.
"Fuck..." he groaned, his voice low. You could feel the restraint in his body as he tried to hold himself back. His eyes flicked up to meet yours, and you saw nothing but hunger in them.
"You're so beautiful Y/n." He whispered before lowering his head between your legs, finally giving you what you'd been waiting for.
The first touch of his tongue against you was slow, he was savoring the taste of you. He let out a soft moan, the sound vibrating against your skin, sending waves of pleasure through your body. His hands held your thighs apart, his grip possessive but gentle as he worked his tongue in slow, sensual strokes.
"Oh my god." You moaned out, your hands tangling in his hair as he buried his face deeper between your legs, his tongue moving with more urgency now. He flicked his tongue against your clit, earning a gasped out of you, your back arching off the bed as he sucked lightly, sending jolts of pleasure through your entire body.
Haechan groaned against you, the vibrations from his voice adding to the sensation, and you could feel his desperation growing with every second. He was completely lost in you, every lick, every suck more intense than the last. His hands slid up your thighs, holding you steady as he devoured you, his tongue moving faster, more eagerly.
Your breaths came out in shallow gasps, your body trembling beneath his touch, and you could feel the heat building in your core, your stomach tightening with every flick of his tongue.
"Haechan... fuck." You whimpered, your grip tightening in his hair as he continued to work his mouth against you.
"Please Y/n, I want you to come for me." He groaned against your skin, his voice filled with desire. His tongue moved faster, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. "I need you."
You cried out, your entire body trembling as waves of pleasure washed over you, your grip tightening in his hair as you rode out your high, legs shaking. Haechan didn't stop, his mouth still working against you, drawing out your orgasm.
Finally, he pulled back, his lips swollen and glistening, his eyes filled with satisfaction as he looked up at you.
"Did I do good?" He asked softly, his voice still breathless, his eyes searching yours.
"Mhm." You hummed, your fingers gently stroking his cheek brushing away a few strands of hair. "You did so good for me."
He smiled in response, leaning in to take your lips into a kiss.
Somehow, it was more passionate than the last. You two devoured each other, tongues tangling, your body heating up as you felt Haechan grind against you, trying to feel some type of friction.
"Fuck, I need to feel you... can I please feel you Y/n?" He whispered, his breath tickling your earlobe.
You pulled back slightly, your eyes meeting his. "Do you think you deserve it?" You asked teasingly.
His eyes locked onto yours. "I do... please, let me feel you." He pleaded.
You couldn't resist the sincerity in his eyes. With a playful smirk, you gestured for him to adjust, his back pressing against the headboard as anticipation swirled between you.
"If you think you deserve it, then take off your pants." you instructed, your voice firm yet inviting.
His eyes widened like he was in a dream. Without hesitation, he slid down his pants, exposing his readiness to you, his eyes never leaving yours.
"Of course you're not wearing underwear." You laughed, crawling into his lap, his eyes filled with excitement and shyness.
"You're so fucking dirty." You whispered, threading your fingers through his hair, drawing a soft moan from him as you gave a gentle tug.
His glasses slipped to the bridge of his nose, but he seemed unconcerned, his attention solely on you. Any other time he would've voiced a rebuttal to your comment, but he needed you so bad he couldn't even find the words.
"Please." He murmured desperately.
Slowly, you adjusted yourself, guiding him to your entrance. Both of you moaned as you took him in, inch by inch, until he was fully in you.
He threw his head back against the headboard, overwhelmed by the sensation of your warmth surrounding him as you moved. "Fuck." he whimpered, his grip on your hips tightening.
"What, can you not handle it?" You teased.
"I—" He tried to speak before it was cut off by a small moan escaping as you pulled him deeper. "Can I move you?" He asked.
A soft nod was all he needed. His hands found your hips, guiding you, lifting you in a rhythm that soon had him whimpering your name, his movements becoming more desperate as your heat wrapped around him.
He had dreamed of this moment—the chance to feel you, and it was everything he'd imagined and more. "Fuck, feels so good." He whimpered.
His pace quickened, driven by your shared need, each whimper and sigh from you encouraging him to go deeper, faster.
"Fuck Haechan, you're so big." You moaned out, the words shooting straight to his pelvis.
"Are you gonna be good for me and cum?" you whispered into his ear, your words sending a shiver of pleasure through his body.
"Yes, fuck, I'll be good for you." He moaned out, overwhelmed by the sensations pushing him closer to the edge. His glasses fogged with each heated breath.
His movements grew messy, each thrust sending him closer to the edge, you tightening around him.
"Fuck, gonna—cum.” He gasped, his body trembling beneath you.
"Cum for me, I'm almost there." You said, your stomach tightening as he hit your g-spot.
"Feels so good." He whimpered, the feeling of you clenching around him making him go almost insane.
"Fuck— gotta pull out." He could barely get the words out, eyes squeezed shut, he felt dizzy. Even though his mouth said one thing, his hands kept moving you, keeping himself deep inside you.
"It's okay baby, fill me up." You moaned, the permission tipping him over the edge.
"Fuck I'm coming." He let out a choked whimper, finding his release, filling you full of his seed. His hands covered his mouth as he tried to hold in the cries that wanted to be let out.
"Uncover your mouth." You spoke, wanting to hear every precious sound he made, reaching your high shortly after.
His hands fell away, gripping the sheets to ground himself. His moans turned into cries of pleasure as he twitched beneath you, riding out the last waves of pleasure together.
"Shit." You said breathless, exhausted and satisfied, your head resting in the crook of his neck, your shared breath slowing to a gentle rhythm.
"Look at what you do to me." He muttered, obviously still winded.
"Look at what you do to me" You said, gently cupping his face, smiling as you took in the mess you both became—his glasses fogged beyond use.
He smiled lazily, resting his head on the head board as he let out a satisfied sigh, closing his eyes.
#nct x reader#nct#nct fanfic#nct dream#nct dream x reader#nct 127#haechan smut#nct haechan#haechan#nct dream smut#nct dream haechan#nct 127 x reader#nct 127 haechan#nct 127 smut#haechan x reader#haechan oneshot#nct haechan smut
868 notes
·
View notes
Text
Roleplay Is Not Dead Nor Doth It Sleep
There's a post going around about how text-based, freeform roleplay is dead, and I was typing up a huge response to this, with an accompanying guide on how to find roleplayer in 2024, when I realized it might have a bigger reach if I made it its own post. So here's that guide.
I hesitate to say that there isn't a problem with the new format of social media making roleplay more difficult to find, but in the desire to make that point, the OP of the original post has left people with the idea that there's no way for them to get into freeform text roleplay in 2024. Which just isn't true! Here, look at all the ways.
Forums
The link to RPG-Directory to find roleplaying forums is a good start. Once you've found a forum RPG, even if you don't join, there's usually an 'advertising' section on that forum where other forum RPGs post their ads - this may help you to find forums that don't advertise on RPG-D.
Another really good forum to find roleplay on is Barbermonger. Barbermonger is focused on connecting people for one-on-one roleplays.
This last one's going to be weird, but it turns out that there are still people seeking roleplay on the Gaia Online forums after all these years. I think this is delightfully retro and then crowd there seems a little older than average. No pre-existing knowledge of Gaia required.
Tumblr
You can also find forum roleplay groups (as well as tumblr and Discord groups) right here on Tumblr. Usually, the thing to do is to use the search function - search for "[genre] rp" or "[fandom] rp" and sort by "latest." (If you sort by Top, you are likely to find dead RPs.) For example, here's fantasy rp, historical rp, and marvel rp. You can also try jcink rp, as most roleplay forums are hosted on Jcink these days, or discord rp, depending on your favored platform.
There are also tumblr blogs specifically dedicated to advertising roleplays. I'm not super familiar with these nowadays, but just in the process of searching those tags above, I found these:
Jcink Tinder
RPG Adverts
RPings
There are more, I just don't know them off the top of my head.
Reddit
Listen, don't run away, I swear it's good now - I swear Reddit is good now -
Reddit is a good place to find Discord roleplays. It's a little heavier on smut-only roleplays than other platforms mentioned here, but it's not impossible to find sexless, plot-based roleplay here either. Most ads are for one on one RP, but you can find groups mixed in here too. The big subreddits for text-based freeform RP seem to be:
r/DiscordRP
r/RoleplayPartnerSearch
r/roleplaying
r/Roleplay
Some of these have weird rules about what you can put in your ad, and I don't remember which ones, so read carefully and don't get discouraged if your ad is initially removed.
Discord
In 2024, Discord is by far the biggest and most popular platform for roleplay, and it has its own native roleplay advertising hubs. Here are a bunch:
roleplay partner hub
Rockin Roleplay
The Roleplay Garden
roleplay help
the roleplay connection
RP Central
Roleplay Central
Roleplay Hub
Barbermonger also has a Discord server
Roleplay Meets: Reborn
RP Hub
The Scribes Guild
DM Rp Village
cherry blossom! roleplay hub
DM-RP
Roleplay Round Table (21+)
The Historical Syndicate (specifically for historical roleplay)
The Roleplayer's Directory
If you can't find the Discord roleplay you want on here, you can also try Discord hub websites, like Disboard. These work similar to tumblr tags - search for [genre] rp or [fandom] rp.
Other
The original post specifically mentions that 'all the old "omegle but for role play" type websites died out ages ago'. This is mostly true, but not quite! There's still Rolechat. It's a little janky, but what it needs more than anything is a bigger user base. Their Discord server is also a good place to find one on one discord roleplay. It is, of course, free, but if you want to support its development, they have a patreon.
Please reblog this post, and add your own tips on how to find roleplay!
5K notes
·
View notes
Text
beach day
pairing: rafe cameron x gf!reader
genre: smutsmutsmut, minors DNI!!!
synopsis: having a casual beach day with your boyfriend... until he decides to make it more fun.
word count: 3k
a/n: this is because i still haven’t gotten to go to the beach :/ anyway!!! i really wanna write something for jj but i don’t have any ideas, so if there’s anything you guys want to read, pls let me know!!
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩
You were lying on a towel, your chest rising and falling in steady breaths, your eyes covered by your heart-shaped sunglasses, your boyfriend sitting next to you as you sunbathed, letting out a contented sigh, the hot sun on your skin feeling like a pure manifestation of peacefulness. You picked up your drink, lifting your sunglasses on top of your head as you drank from the straw, the beverage having become lukewarm due to the hot weather. The sky was clear above you, and the beach was empty around you, leaving you alone with Rafe.
What you didn't realize, was that your boyfriend couldn't keep his eyes off of you, his gaze roaming over your body as you basked in the sunlight, admiring your frame and the soft curves of your body, the way the sun seemed to make your skin... glow. His eyes lingered on the way your tiny bikini clung to your body, emphasizing all your best assets, your hardened nipples showing through the fabric, the skimpy bikini of course being picked and bought for you by him.
Rafe felt a familiar stirring in his groin as he looked at you, his thoughts quickly turning impure as he tried to resist the urge to readjust himself in his swimming shorts when you sucked your drink through the straw, the way your cheeks hollowed reminding him of you, on your knees in front of him, taking him into your mouth so greedily as he-
"Babe, everything okay?" You asked with slightly widened eyes, clearly clueless of the effect you were having on him, the blonde covering up the bulge in his swimming shorts, his cock twitching in his shorts as you let out a small sigh when you finished your drink and looked up at him, your hand on your forehead and one of your eyes closed due to the bright sun being in your eyes.
"Yeah, I'm good, bunny." He said, clearing his throat, and taking off his own sunglasses before turning to look at the ocean. "Wanna get into the water? It's kinda hot out here, would be nice to cool off."
"Alright." You shrugged and stood up, holding your hand out for him to take, and as he stood up, Rafe was quick to intertwine his fingers with yours as the two of you made your way to the waves, the water lapping against the shore.
He tugged you deeper into the water until it reached his waist, the blonde pulling you closer to him in a way that caused you to squeal, his chest now pressed against yours as he looked down at you with a grin, your wide eyes looking so adorable as you looked up at him, your brows furrowed in question.
"What are you doing?"
"Nothin'." Rafe said in feigned confusion as he shrugged, his grasp around your waist getting tighter, pulling you even closer to him, a little gasp leaving your pink lips as you felt a familiar poking in your abdomen. "Just holding my girlfriend."
You let out a soft chuckle, looking up at him as you felt warmth crawling up to your cheeks, the boy pressing his hand on your cheek, his thumb leaving a feather-light brush against your bottom lip. "You're the most insatiable person I've ever met, you know that?"
He barks out a laugh, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he looks down at you, biting down on your bottom lip. "You say that like it's a bad thing, bunny." Rafe retorts, his arm tightening around your waist. "You know you like it. We both know you can't resist me."
"Yeah, in the privacy of one of our bedrooms."
He laughs at that, one of his hands moving down to your ass and giving it a slight squeeze. "You act like I care that we're in public, baby," he teases, his voice low and husky, and it was as if you could hear the arousal in the tone of his voice. "That just makes it even more exciting, don't you think?"
You felt a cold shiver run down your spine as one of his thumbs brushed over your hardened nipple in your bikini top, closing your eyes as a small gasp escaped your lips, starting to give in to his sweet talking.
One of his fingers trace a path down your bare back, a glint in his eyes as he speaks, his voice now only a low rumble. "Damn, bunny... You look so good in that bikini, it makes me want to rip it off you right here..."
"You're so evil..."
"You love it, though..." Rafe smirks at your exclamation, his hand continuing to trail over your body, his touches teasing and almost featherlight, leaving you craving for more. "Admit it. You love it when I push your limits."
"I love you, you perv." You roll your eyes, but he can tell that his words were getting to you, your body pressing even closer to his, but he simply chuckled at your teasing, his grip on you tightening as he leans down and nuzzles your neck.
"You love me because I'm a perv, bunny." He whispers into your ear in that sultry tone that always caused a pang of aching to hit your core, lightly sucking on your ear before moving to your neck, causing you to throw your head back, your eyes closed in pleasure, a small whimper leaving your lips. "And I love you because you're so damn cute when you call me names, and let out those delicious little sounds."
You pulled him away from your neck by his chin, bringing his lips to yours, causing Rafe to moan against your lips, his hands gripping your hips as he pulled you flush against him, kissing you back with fervor, his tongue eagerly slipping into your mouth, tasting you as his hands trailed over your body, his touch becoming more possessive, more needy.
He pulled away from your lips, his forehead resting against yours as the both of you tried to catch your breath, his hands still roaming over your body, before settling onto your ass. "God, bunny... the things you do to me," he groans, his voice low and hoarse, filled with desire. "I could stay like this with you forever."
You let out a teasing giggle, pulling your forehead away as you looked up at him, biting down on your lower lip. "Careful before we get arrested for public indecency."
Rafe simply let out a laugh at his words, a wolfish grin on his lips. "Oh, bunny," he says, his words low and sultry. "You know I love living on the edge. Public indecency? That's just a small thrill, babe. Nothing to worry about. Besides, if that happened, you know I'd take care of it. Get my pretty girl off with a warning."
"Oh, really?"
His gaze roamed over the secluded area of the beach you were in. It's so quiet, almost deserted, the only sounds coming from the crashing of the waves against the shore. His smirk widened as he looked back down at you, a thrill of excitement coursing through him at the thought of getting away with fucking you right there.
"Yeah. We're completely alone." His voice lowered even more as his lips brushed against your ear. "No one's around, it's just us. And I have a few ideas of what we could get up to, right here, right now... We've got plenty of time and privacy, might as well take advantage of it..."
You let out a soft whine when he sucked lightly on your ear again, before speaking. "Fine... but on the shore. On the damn towels."
Rafe just smirked at your soft whine, his lips still attached to your ear before pulling back just enough to look at you, a wicked gleam in his eyes. "On the towels, bunny." He crooned, a low chuckle escaping his throat. "Alright, we'll keep it classy for my demanding baby."
Before you could say anything back, he had lifted you into the air, your legs tightly wrapped around his torso, his muscular, wet arms around your thighs as you squealed, the ripples of water on his skin glowing in the sunlight as he carried you to the towels laid out on the shore as if you weighed nothing.
He placed you down onto the towels, and without wasting any time, he covered your body with his, Rafe's weight pressing down on you as he claimed your lips in a deep, possessive kiss, his hips grinding down against you once, causing you to gasp against the kiss.
Rafe grins against your lips, the sound of your gasp sending a thrill throughout his body. He breaks the kiss, his mouth traveling down your neck, leaving a trail of kisses and nibbles as he goes, causing small whimpers to leave your lips. "God, baby... You're so damn beautiful..." Rafe says huskily, as his hands continue roaming over your body.
His hand slipped underneath the fabric of your bikini top, his touch more possessive and eager than before as he pinched your nipple between his forefinger and his thumb, causing you to arch your back and gasp.
Rafe moved his attention to your chest, his mouth trailing down to your cleavage, leaving a trail of kisses and nibbles on your hot skin, his hands roaming over your body, his touch insistent and needy. "You drive me crazy..." he groans, his hips grinding against yours once again, causing you to gasp as he untied your bikini top, quickly pulling it off and taking in the sight of your breasts, letting out a low groan at the sight. "God... you're so perfect..."
"Rafe..." You let out a needy whine as you ground yourself against him, needing to feel more of him. Rafe simply let out a low rumble in response, his hands trailing down your body to your bikini bottoms, his touch more insistent and urgent. "God, I need you..." He grumbles, his voice low and raspy as he nibbles on your collarbone, his fingers fiddling with the string of your bottoms.
He tugged at the string of the bottoms, the fabric coming loose as he pulled them down your legs, discarding them as he moved back up your body, looking down at you, his eyes full of darkness and hunger, his hands roaming over your bare flesh. "You want me, bunny?" He murmurs, his voice a low, sultry whisper.
"Yes, Rafe..." You whine as you tug at the waistband of his swimming shorts needily, your whine making him groan as his body responds to your touch. He pushed himself closer to you, his hands grabbing yours and moving them away from his waistband.
"Patience, baby." He growls, his eyes darkening as he looked down at you. "You'll get what you want soon enough."
"Please, Rafe..." You whine, feeling some of your wetness run down your thighs from how turned on you were at that moment. desperate to feel him, to have him inside of you. "I've been so good, please, I just need you in me..."
Rafe closed his eyes at the sound of your pleading, like music to his ears, his willpower cracking as you begged for him. He's never been able to resist you when you were like this, so needy and desperate for him. "You want me, huh, baby?" He growls, his voice dark and rough his hips pressing against you, growing painfully hard in his swimming shorts.
"Please..."
He lets out another low groan at your pleading, his hands gripping onto your hip so tightly it'd bruise, but he didn't care. He moved his lips closer to your ears, whispering to you. "Beg for it, bunny."
"Please Rafe, I need you..." You let out a desperate whine, the aching in your core making you so desperate to feel him against you, to feel him inside of you.
Rafe's self-control frayed at the sound of your desperate whines, your begging like a drug to him, a needy little plea that was driving him wild. "Good girl..." he praised, his voice thick with desire as he slowly pulled down his swimming shorts, a moan escaping your lips as you looked at his erection, a drop of precum glistening at the tip of his long, hard cock, feeling yourself get even more turned on.
You let out a whimper when you feel his tip teasing your clit, Rafe simply letting out a low chuckle at how needy you were for him. His eyes gaze down at you, dark and hungry, his hand stroking himself before he brought himself down between your legs, positioning himself at your entrance. "You're so goddamn perfect."
He slowly pushed his cock into you, his eyes falling shut as he feels your warm, tight cunt envelop him. He relishes the feeling, the way your body responded to him, your back arching off the towels as moans and whimpers escaped your pretty lips. "That's it, baby... God, you're so wet for me." He chuckled lowly. "So damn desperate for me, huh? I'm barely in you and I have you lying below me, so pathetic and pretty..."'
You let out a whine at his words, and Rafe simply chuckles, starting to set a steady pace, his hips rolling against yours as your legs wrapped around his torso, causing the blonde to let out a groan, his chest pressed against yours while he moved inside of you. He could feel your body arching towards him as he fucked into you, your long nails digging into his back and causing him to let out a groan, your mouth open in a silent cry and your eyes closed, focusing on the pleasure he was bringing you.
He brought one of his hands to your clit, rubbing it with his thumb as he slightly increased the pace of his hips, wanting to make you feel even more pleasure. He felt your body tense and shudder beneath him, your breathing becoming ragged and labored, moans of his name escaping your lips.
"Such a good girl..." Rafe murmured, his voice thick and raspy. He increased his ministrations, his fingers rubbing your clit in a way that drew even more gasps and mewls from your pretty lips as he fucked you.
He pressed his forehead against yours, his breaths coming faster and more labored as he moves inside of you, picking up the pace of his hips, your eyes rolling back at the sensation. He can feel himself nearing the edge of his control, his body growing tighter and intense as he gets lost in the pleasure. "You're mine… this pretty pussy is all mine…"
"God, Rafe..." You moan, making your pussy clench around his thick cock, your nails digging into his back even harder, and without you even having to say it, your boyfriend knew you were getting closer and closer to your orgasm, the coil inside of you growing more and more.
"That's it, baby..." he groans at the feeling of you clenching around him, his eyes falling shut as he tries to hold onto whatever bit of control he has left. He can feel his own release building deep within him, a coiling heat in his belly as he picks up his pace, wanting to make you come before he would. "Just let go for me, let yourself go..."
You were so close you could almost taste the pleasure you were going to feel, your hips snapping against his as you moaned his name, pulling him even closer to yours, bringing his lips down to yours for a hungry, sloppy kiss before letting him go, your fingers tugging at his hair.
He increased his pace, his movements growing more and more urgent and desperate as he felt himself nearing the edge, the squelching noise coming from his cock going in and out of your sopping wet cunt filling the air, covering the noise of the waves hitting the shore. His breathing is ragged and heavy, his body taut with tension as he holds himself back, basically pounding into you. "I'm so close baby, need you to come for me..."
At his words, you finally felt the coil inside of you snap, your release washing over your entire body as you moaned his name, tugging harder on his hair and your legs grasping tighter around his torso as you clenched around him tightly as if urging him to come undone right along with you, your back arching into him, your eyes closed in pleasure, his movements and ministrations helping you ride out the intensity of your orgasm.
Rafe feels the ripple of your release contract around him as you clamp down around him, and it's enough to push him over the edge into his own powerful climax. He gasps out your name as he feels the waves of pleasure crash over him, his body tensing and his fingers gripping onto your skin for support. He buries his face in your neck, his body shivering and jerking as he cums inside of you, moaning deeply and gutturally, his breathing coming out in ragged gasps as he's overcome with the intensity of his orgasm.
He holds himself there, trembling and gasping, body shaking as you both start to come down from your respective highs, his cock still buried in your tight cunt, your walls surely coated in his release. His heart is pounding in his chest, his breaths coming in quick gasps as he slowly comes back to himself. Slowly lifting his head, Rafe's eyes lock onto yours. "Fuck, bunny..." he breathes out, his voice rough and raw with his release. He lets out a small huff of laughter. "You always make me lose my mind."
"I've got to say something, though..." You breathe out, your breathing still ragged as you look at him. He lifts his head from your neck and props himself up on his forearms, looking down at you with a mixture of curiosity and concern. "What is it?"
"That totally would've been worth the public indecency charge." You laugh softly, causing Rafe to let out a sigh of relief before barking out a laugh at your words, his shoulders shaking as he grins down at you.
"You're such a brat," he says with a teasing glint in his eyes, his fingers reaching up to gently pinch your side and softly smacking your ass, before bringing his lips inches away from yours. "But you're right. Totally worth it." he murmured, pressing his lips against yours in a soft kiss.
#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron#rafe fanfiction#outer banks#outer banks fanfiction#outerbanks rafe#rafe imagine#rafe outer banks#rafe smut#rafe x reader#rafe x you#rafe fic#rafe obx#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron fic#rafe cameron smut#obx#obx fic#obx fanfiction#outer banks fic
2K notes
·
View notes