#like... this is literally the first step of the rest of my fucking life!!!

[the-gayest-tree-you-ever-did-see]

HEY GUYS MY SONG IS ON SPOTIFY !!!!!

[countdown-til-sanders-take-over]

this is a formal apology for every time i've read ur fnaf theories, gone "ah... of course! yes!" and then forgotten to respond

This is a formal apology for every time I've read one of your asks, not immediately had a TQ&/E, and forgotten to respond

[domm1etae]

Can’t Say It Out Loud

f!reader x friend yunho

oneshot | mdni

2.1k

What was supposed to be a chill night catching up with your friend from school you both used to go to Yunho turns into way more when a tipsy convo about a dream he had... gets real

nsfw tags under

f/m, vaginal sex, teasting, dirty talk, kissing, top yunho, bottom reader, friends to fucking?

author's note: long time no see my reader x idol lovers ♡♡

Knock, knock, knock.

You adjusted the hem of your oversized t-shirt, wiping your slightly damp palms on your thighs before walking to the front door. A rush of nervous excitement bloomed in your chest as you opened it—there he was.

Yunho stood on your welcome mat, his broad shoulders rising with each breath, a small grin tugging at his lips. His hair was styled in his usual laid-back way, and he carried a six-pack of beer in one hand, the other already outstretched for a hug.

“Hey, roomie-for-a-night,” he teased as he wrapped his arms around you tightly. “Damn, this your new place? You really out here adulting.”

You laughed into his shoulder, your nose brushing against the soft fabric of his hoodie. “It’s still a mess, but yeah, welcome to my semi-unpacked kingdom.”

He stepped inside, gaze flicking over the boxes stacked in the corners, the half-assembled bookshelf, the TV precariously perched on a makeshift stand. “I dig it. It already feels like you.” He kicked off his shoes and dropped onto your couch like he owned it, stretching his long legs across the cushions. “You didn’t lie about snacks either. You go hard.”

You rolled your eyes fondly and walked back to the kitchen. “I literally told you to bring the drinks and nothing else. I’m carrying this friendship on my back.”

He laughed, cracking open a can. “I bring the charm, though.”

“Oh God.” You snatched the drink from his hand with a mock glare and handed him another. “Shut up and drink.”

The two of you settled on the couch, the soft background noise of some random comedy show playing as the first sips of beer warmed your cheeks. It didn’t take long for the laughter to flow—easy, natural. Yunho had always been like that for you. A constant in your life, even when everything else felt like it was shifting beneath your feet.

A couple of beers in, you both were sprawled across the couch, bodies nearly tangled. Yunho’s thigh was pressed against yours, and your hand casually rested near his knee without even realizing it. The alcohol buzz blurred the lines between comfortable and something more.

“I missed this,” Yunho murmured, his voice softer now. “Hanging out. No schedules, no school deadlines, no bullshit.”

You turned your head to look at him, his cheek resting against the back cushion, eyes heavy-lidded. The golden warmth of the lamp softened the angles of his face, but it couldn’t hide the way he’d grown into himself since school ended—he looked older. Sharper. Handsomer.

“I missed you too,” you said quietly, and you meant it.

There was a pause, the kind that didn’t feel awkward but… charged. His gaze shifted, and you realized he was looking at you too. Really looking.

You blinked and looked away, flustered. “Don’t go getting all sentimental on me. I’m tipsy, I might cry.”

Yunho chuckled. “You always say that. One beer and you’re like a baby deer on ice.”

You reached out to playfully smack his arm, but your hand lingered for a second too long on his bicep. Solid. Warm.

The silence returned, only this time, it was heavier. Denser.

“Y/N,” he said, quieter now.

You glanced up, heart ticking faster at the tone in his voice.

“I, uh…” he scratched the back of his neck. “I had this weird dream the other night.”

That made you sit up slightly, curiosity piqued. “Okay, do tell.”

He looked sheepish but amused. “You were in it. And… it wasn’t exactly PG.”

Your eyebrows shot up.

You laughed, partly out of surprise and partly to shake the sudden wave of heat rushing through you. “Wait—like, sexy dream?”

Yunho bit his lip, chuckling into his drink. “Yeah. Didn’t mean for it to happen, but… I dunno. Ever since then I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.”

Your stomach flipped. You weren’t sure if it was the alcohol, the way his voice dipped lower, or the fact that you had your own share of secret, blurry thoughts about him.

You leaned in slightly, teasing. “What happened in the dream?”

He gave you a look. “You really wanna know?”

“Only if you really want to tell me.”

He hesitated. Then, with a deep breath, he said, “You were on your knees in front of me. Touching me. Kissing me. And it felt… real. Like, really real.”

Your breath caught. You tried to swallow your nerves, but your mouth had gone dry. He wasn’t joking. His eyes were locked onto yours now, searching.

“I’ve thought about it a lot since then,” he murmured. “And honestly? I was hoping… maybe…”

He trailed off.

You didn’t let him finish.

Instead, you leaned forward and kissed him.

Soft. Hesitant. Testing.

He froze for half a second—then melted into it. One hand found your waist, the other cradled your face as he deepened the kiss. It was slow, unhurried. Not lust-filled—not yet. Just the overwhelming relief of finally crossing a line that had blurred for far too long.

You pulled back slightly, eyes wide, breath shallow. “I’ve wanted this too. I just didn’t think…”

Yunho pressed his forehead against yours, his thumb brushing over your cheek. “Then let me show you.”

He kissed you again, this time with more urgency, more heat. You gasped softly against his mouth as he slid a hand beneath your shirt, fingers brushing the skin of your lower back. The contact sent sparks racing up your spine.

“Bedroom?” he whispered, his voice strained with restraint.

You nodded.

In the quiet hush of your bedroom, the air was thick with anticipation, the silence only broken by the sound of your mingled breaths and the soft rustle of fabric as Yunho gently pressed you back against the bed. The light from the hallway spilled in faintly through the cracked door, casting shadows over his face—soft and golden, like candlelight flickering across skin.

He hovered over you, one knee sinking into the mattress, his fingers reaching to brush a loose strand of hair from your face. His hand lingered, cupping your cheek, thumb trailing over your bottom lip. You caught it between your lips and kissed it, eyes never leaving his.

“You’re sure?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper, like he was afraid any louder might shatter this fragile moment.

“Yunho,” you whispered back, lifting your hand to cup the side of his neck, “please. I want you.”

He leaned in, kissing you again—slow and deliberate, like he had all the time in the world. His lips were soft, a contrast to the way his hands began to explore, sliding from your face to your collarbone, down the sides of your torso as if he was trying to memorize you. The kiss deepened, breaths becoming heavier. His tongue licked softly into your mouth, coaxing a quiet moan from you.

Your hands fumbled at the hem of his sweatshirt, fingertips brushing warm skin as you pushed it up. He pulled back briefly, sitting up on his knees so you could tug it off completely. His toned stomach flexed as he moved, shadows outlining the soft dips and curves of muscle. Your palms slid up his chest, enjoying the feel of his warmth under your touch. His breath hitched when you leaned up to kiss along his sternum, your lips grazing the sensitive skin there.

He leaned down again, helping you out of your own shirt. His eyes flicked down your body reverently, mouth parted slightly as he took in the sight of you. He kissed your shoulder first, then lower—his lips brushing the tops of your breasts, hot and deliberate. His hands spanned your ribs, thumbs stroking slow, hypnotic circles into your skin.

Your bra was discarded next, and Yunho paused, as if needing a second just to process. “God, Y/N…” he murmured, trailing kisses over your chest, his tongue teasing one nipple before moving to the other. He groaned low in his throat at the way your body arched into him, your fingers threading through his hair, tugging gently when the sensation overwhelmed you.

His hands moved lower—along your waist, over your hips, fingertips skimming under the waistband of your shorts. You lifted your hips to help him slide them down, underwear with them. He kissed your thighs as he went, holding you open just slightly with his hands on your knees, eyes locked on yours. His lips ghosted over the inside of your thigh, hot breath sending goosebumps across your skin.

Then he leaned back, tugging off his sweatpants, revealing the growing bulge in his boxers. You bit your lip as your eyes traced over him, watching the way his cock strained against the fabric. He caught your gaze and smiled, a little bashful, but mostly turned on by your reaction. He pulled off his boxers, and you watched as his length sprung free, thick and flushed.

You reached for him, your palm wrapping around his cock, stroking slowly. Yunho hissed at the contact, his hips stuttering forward into your hand.

“Fuck… Y/N,” he groaned, his hand reaching out to steady himself on the headboard. His head dipped, pressing kisses along your jawline and down your neck as your hand worked him, thumb swiping over his tip to collect the precum beading there.

He couldn’t take much more.

Yunho shifted over you, nudging your thighs open with his knees. His cock rested against your core, sliding through your slick folds. The pressure made your toes curl, and you grabbed at his arms, eyes fluttering shut.

“Tell me if you want me to stop,” he murmured, lining himself up at your entrance. “At any point.”

“I don’t,” you whispered, wrapping your legs around his waist. “I want you. Please, Yunho.”

He pushed in slowly, his thick cock stretching you open inch by inch. Your nails dug into his back, your breath catching in your throat as your body adjusted around him. He was big—so much bigger than you’d imagined—and every movement made your walls flutter.

“Oh my god…” you gasped, your arms slipping up around his neck, pulling him in closer. “Yunho…”

His head dropped to your shoulder as he groaned into your skin. “Fuck… you’re so tight… so warm.”

He stayed still for a moment, letting you both breathe, his cock buried to the hilt. Then, with a deep exhale, he pulled out halfway and rolled his hips back into you, slow and controlled.

Your fingers clawed at his shoulders as he began a steady rhythm, fucking you in smooth, deep strokes that made your back arch off the mattress. His hands grabbed your thighs, spreading you wider, pushing himself even deeper.

“You feel like heaven,” he grunted against your neck. “Better than anything I ever dreamed of.”

Your moans spilled freely now, mingling with the soft creak of the bed and the slick sounds of your bodies moving together. His kisses were feverish—along your throat, your collarbone, your mouth—like he couldn’t get enough. His hands never stopped touching you, sliding from your hips to your waist to your breasts, squeezing and exploring as if trying to learn every inch of you by heart.

When you felt your orgasm approaching, it was sharp and sudden, a heat pooling low in your belly.

“Yunho—God—Yunho, I’m close,” you cried out, hips rocking up to meet his.

He reached between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit and rubbing tight, firm circles as he thrust harder. “That’s it, baby… come for me. Let me feel you.”

You shattered under him, body convulsing as your orgasm ripped through you, pulsing around his cock. You sobbed out his name, your legs locking around him as pleasure rolled through you in waves.

“Fuck, Y/N—” Yunho moaned, his hips stuttering as he chased his own release. “I’m gonna—fuck—”

You grabbed his face, kissing him hard as he came inside you, his cock twitching deep within. His hips rolled through it, drawing it out as his breath came in ragged gasps against your mouth.

For a long time, neither of you moved.

Then he gently pulled out, murmuring apologies when you whimpered from the overstimulation. He leaned down to press soft kisses across your chest, your shoulder, your cheeks, and finally your lips.

“You were… incredible,” he breathed, brushing your hair from your damp forehead. “You always are.”

You smiled, dazed and glowing. “That was more than I ever imagined.”

He pulled the blanket over your bodies, tucking you into his side. His fingers idly traced your arm as he whispered, “You were always more than just a friend to me. I just didn’t know how to say it.”

You cuddled into his chest, your heart still fluttering, your body sore in the most satisfying way.

“Maybe you don’t have to say it,” you whispered. “Just… stay tonight.”

He kissed the top of your head, pulling you tighter against him.

“I wasn’t planning on leaving.”

[xazse]

not rlly a request but it can be if uw??

I can't stop thinking abt kitty hybrid user and some big cat hybrid gojo (snow leopard, tiger, lion, etc). Suguru originally had hybrid Gojo as a pet, but then found kitty reader and decided to adopt them, and the moment Gojo sees them, he instantly decides that reader is his mate, and just follows them around like a dumb puppy. He'll cling onto reader and groom them all day, licking their fur and their face and not stopping even when reader complains or when Suguru tries to step in. Gojo is super super possesive of reader, and insists on eating, sleeping and bathing with reader, and will start shredding cushions or other things if denied. He's a big cat, so his claws do some serious damage to furniture, so Suguru has no choice but to give in if he doesn't want to spend everything in his bank account to repair the damage. I'd imagine Gojo and reader would have a similar dynamic to your puppygirl and wolf Gojo fics, but Gojo is the one teasing and getting all over reader. Reader's just too innocent to realise what's going on, so they just let Gojo do whatever. Thanks for reading my little blurb, I just needed to get it out!! Hope u have a nice day ❤️

The Preakness in this needs to be studied omg

I want to expand.

KittyHybrid !reader x Tigerhybrid!Gojo

Satoru really thinks he owns you like literally thinks you were bought just for him when that’s not the case, well yeah you were bought for companionship but Suguru also got you because he felt the house was too manly? It would be nice to have a girl around. So he got ur little cute self, at the hybrid facility you were the sweetest thing ever, you’d lay yourself all over Suguru in a ploy to go home with him, he of course gave in.

The first few days he has to keep you separated from Satoru for obvious reasons, Satoru is extremely protective over the house, Suguru can’t have any company over besides Shoko who he tolerates in his space. When he first smelt you he was angry, he couldn’t tell you what you were so he was on edge, the thing is he had only smelled you not seen you.

Suguru has you in another room letting you get familiar with Gojos scent and also letting him get familiar with yours, Gojo really won’t leave the locked door you’re behind alone he’s constantly coming near it to sniff and try to unlock it, Suguru has to guide him to get away from it every single time.

When he does meet you a warmth blooms within his chest, women are such a rarity for Satoru especially other hybrids, you don’t come from the same family as him but he’s so obsessed.

He insists that he have an hour licking session of him using his slimy tongue to clean you even though you really don’t need it! Everytime you try to pry him off in a whiny tone he’s hearing none of it. It gets to the point where you have to whine for a suguru to help you: he does but Satoru has the meanest fucking expression on his face when you’re pried from his arms. He goes on to have an attitude for the rest of the day.

You’re so right about Gojo scratching couches with his sharp claws in retailiation, he gets soo clingy with you, so angry when Suguru separates you it’s so bad that like you said Suguru doesn’t want to deal with him ruining expensive things around the house, that doesn’t mean he’ll let Satoru do whatever he wants with you there are some limits.

Most of the time you’re nice and pliant in Satoru’s lap, you don’t fight back when he carries you around the house simply just letting the huge tiger do what he pleases.

You don’t seem to mind when he rubs himself all over you, purring so loudly because he’s just that obsessed with the docile kitty.

Tiger!Satoru loves your little cunt just as much as he loves the rest of you, he’s only gotten to feel your warm insides once because that’s where Suguru drew the line hard. It was the best day of his life, all you did was mewl below him while he stuffed you full of his fat cock, he came so quickly that night.

He craves to feel you again but Suguru stood his ground, he’d get rid of you if it came to that again (not that he wanted to, Suguru really loved having you around the house it was just an empty threat that seemed to work)

Tiger!Satoru will settle for licking and giving you nasty slippery kisses!

[rafesangelita]

Pouge!Sweetheart!Reader and Rafe request! Rafe gets carried away in bed with dirty talk, saying degrading mean stuff about her being a pouge, because he is really horny and she gets a bit taken back because she doesn’t know if he truly feels that way about her and he can tell she is a bit standoffish and down after and he doesn't know what he has done :(

warnings: unprotected sex, degradation, light fluff, a little bit of angst, rafe feels rlly bad :(

both you and rafe managed to surprise each other when you two proposed new ideas to spice up your sex life. choking, overstimulation, roleplay, degradation, to name a few. while rafe reassured you that he loved how vanilla you two were in bed, you wanted to be everything and more for him, your own mind a little curious to see where he takes things. the first time rafe decided to rough things up a bit, it brought new sides out of both of you, and you equally loved it. however, you didn’t know how to feel about degradation this time around.

“oh, my- please don’t stop rafe!” you cried out, the band in your stomach threatening to snap at any moment, your boyfriend’s hips pistoning in and out of you at an unforgiving speed. “so fucking needy, huh? always wanting more like the fucking pogue you are?” his words made you blink, unsure of what he meant by that. you still moaned, his length pressing that spot inside of you that made you tremble. rafe leaned down, taking your lips in a kiss. “you’re so fucking sexy, who woulda’ thought a pogue had it like this?”

there he goes again. this time when he kissed you, you didn’t move your lips, your mind simply somewhere else. eventually rafe finished, his arms caging you in as he cursed against your skin. thankfully he didn’t pay too much attention to your face, instead he pulled you against his chest and spooned you as he whispered sweet nothings in the curve of your neck. he intertwined your fingers, rubbing your back soothingly until you fell asleep.

the next day you woke up early, still feeling off from last night. while rafe was snoring softly, you managed to slip out of his arms, taking it upon yourself to get ready and go out to get breakfast. apart of you felt bad for going out without him, and quite literally leaving your camper without a word, but you needed some space to clear your head. soon enough, your cell was ringing off the hook with calls and voicemails from rafe. when you got back home, rafe was sitting on the little steps outside, his knee bouncing as he chewed on his thumb.

“where were you?!” rafe looked confused as you walked past him and inside. “i got breakfast.” you shrugged, your voice barely above a whisper. “breakfast?” he watched you take a seat on your little couch, his hands on his hips as he stared down at you. rafe didn’t know what to think, as far as he knew he thought everything was fine, great even, between you two. “what’s wrong?” he sat down, immediately picking up on the way you avoided his gaze. “hey, talk to me, tell me what i did, baby.” he grabbed your chin.

you looked up at him, concern written all over his face. “last night,” you started, “..you said some things that bothered me.” you swallowed thickly. rafe shut his eyes momentarily. “i was a little thrown off when you mentioned the whole ‘pogue’ thing.” you watched as the realization dawned on him, a groan leaving his lips as he rested his head in his hands. “fuck,” he cursed, “i’m sorry. i didn’t mean anything i said, y/n. i wasn’t thinking straight.” he shook his head. you sighed, placing your arms around him.

“even the part where you said i was sexy?” rafe paused, a laugh tumbling from his mouth as he turned his eyes on you. you were too sweet for your own good. “no, i definitely meant that.” he clarified, resting his forehead on yours. “i’m so sorry if i made you feel bad, that was never my intention.” he hugged you, pulling you onto his lap. you studied his face, knowing he was genuine. “i know you are. it’s okay.” you pecked his lips. “how about this,” he took your hand, “instead of us trying to make things ‘rougher’ why don’t we try softer? praise instead of degradation?”

you smiled, nodding at him while he pressed a kiss to your knuckles. “..i can’t believe you got breakfast without me.”

[neeeooon]

i think otoya is the kind of person who is aware that he is capable of changing his ways with girls when he finds the “one”, but he’s never truly believed in that. but when when like a girl transfers it’s quite literally love at first sight and he wants to change for her. you can decide whether she gets with him or not, thanks so muchh !! ^^

aww yes i love this idea tysm!!

love of my dreams

otoya eita x fem!reader. ft. karasu and yukimiya. love at first sight. fluff, crack, otoya is a bit weird at the start, cussing, slight death/kms joke at the end. wc: 810

“fuck.”

otoya just told karasu and yukimiya how much he liked his bachelor life. how he wasn’t ready to change. to settle down.

and then you just had to walk through those damn doors.

“fuck.”

you had a guide at your side, telling otoya you were a transfer student. his eyes were glued on you, and every step you took, unable to tear his gaze away. he wanted to know your name, where you transferred from, and what you were studying. probably something similar to him, as you were being toured through his building.

a sharp jab caused him to curse again, and otoya shot a glare at karasu and the cheap plastic butter knife he’d been stabbed with. “yer staring.”

“of course i’m staring. i’m in love.”

“you don’t do love,” yukimiya chimed with a snicker before shoving a forkful of salad into his mouth. “that’s your whole thing.”

otoya didn’t want it to be his whole thing anymore—not after seeing you.

he continued to think about you through the rest of his lunch, then his classes, his drive home, and even while he was texting yukimiya for answers to their finance homework. he didn't believe in love at first sight, at least he didn't think he did. you changed that so quick, otoya was still reeling six hours later.

otoya: i need her number

otoya: pls be my spies pls pls pls

karasu: i never thought i'd see down bad otoya like for real and not just to get pussy

otoya: is that a yes

karasu: for all we know she has a boyfriend

yukimiya: or a girlfriend

otoya: GODDDD IM GOING INSANE I NEED HER SO BAD

otoya: she's the one for me. i'm done. no more playboy otoya.

yukimiya: if you're serious. REALLY SERIOUS. i'll help

karasu: same ig

otoya: there's a special place in blowjob heaven for you two 🙏

and two days later, with the help of yukimiya and karasu, otoya had intel. they also told him you had a gap in your schedule and ate lunch by yourself in the dining hall.

and when otoya saw you? he was nervous.

your hair was pulled away from your face, the eraser-end of your pencil tapping your lips as you concentrated so hard on your homework that a delicate crease formed between your brows. otoya wanted to smooth it out with his thumb and kiss the spot instead.

shaking his head, his grip tightened around his sandwich as he slowly approached you. when you looked up, otoya felt his face grow hot. "sorry to bother you. is this seat taken?"

you rapidly shook your head and gestured to the chair. "no, no, you can take it! just make sure you put it back—"

"i mean, is it okay if i sit here?" he quickly cut off with a small grin, his chest fluttering when you blushed in embarrassment.

you dropped your pencil to hide your face in your hands. "oh my god, i'm so... yeah, yes, you can sit here." shaking your hands out to release some of the stress, you flashed a bright smile. "i'm y/n."

“otoya,” he greeted casually, as if a flock of butterflies didn’t make a home in his stomach.

you repeated his name quietly to yourself before nodding. “i think i’ve seen you in this building before. what are you majoring in?”

when he told you, your eyes lit up so brightly that otoya swore they glittered. “no way! me too! weird that we don’t have any classes together, though. maybe next semester!”

the rest of the time spent before your next class was filled with the two of you talking. otoya thought he'd fail at the genuine small talk thing since he didn't want to use any of his usual lines on you, but he was surprised at how easy it was. whenever he got quiet, you were right there to pick up where he left off.

"this might be too soon," otoya started as he walked you to your class. "but would you want to hang out again tomorrow?"

your smile faltered slightly, and otoya was ready to jump over the rail and fall to the first floor. it wasn't too far down, so he probably wouldn't die, but if he hobbled in front of a truck right after—

"i don't have this class tomorrow," you explained gently. "but would thursday work instead?"

fireworks exploded behind otoya's eyes, along with the relief of no longer needing to die. he readjusted his grip on his bag strap and flashed you a slow grin. "thursday works. same spot as today?"

you beamed. "yep! oh, and here's my number, in case i'm late or we have to reschedule!"

otoya knew, as you entered your name into his phone with a cute emoji, that he would eventually die a happy man.

[sweetlikemonie]

𝐁𝐄𝐃𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐌 𝐁𝐔𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐄𝐒

synopsis: lil blurbs on how they beat it out the frame in (and out) the bedroom!

featuring: toji fushiguro, geto suguru, gojo satoru, nanami kento, & aoi todo x fem!reader

content warning: 18+ minors scram pls. mentions of sex duh, unprotected sex, spanking, multiple positions mentioned (w/twitter visuals 🫣), use of a sex toy in geto’s, lots of dirty talk, pet names, dom/sub elements, oral (fem receiving), hair pulling, exhibitionism, daddy kink in nanami’s, & orgasm denial and creampie in todo’s

author’s note: hey..hey…how y’all doing *miss juicy’s voice*. i’ve been gone for quite a bit. this is a lil rushed especially towards the end but comments and shares are always appreciated. xoxo hope you enjoy!

𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎

quite literally the one of the reasons i’m making this cause he takes your nut serious. his mission is to make sure you’re completely spent and satisfied. toji is not a mean, hard dom in my world. definitely gives me very much pleasure dom, fucking you until the sheets are riddled with your juices. when he’s satiated. just like when he’s got your back arched deep in the middle of the couch, pounding into you as if his life depended on it. “oou my god toji. y-you’re fucking the shit out me.” you moan out weakly, your hands frantically reaching out to grab at something for balance.

you try to find relief by scooting up slightly on the couch, his harsh strokes beginning to make your wetness run speedily down your thighs. you could barely keep your eyes open; and the only sounds starting to come from your mouth now were wordless grunts and gasps of immense pleasure, signaling your release. it didn’t take him long to catch on before one of his hands reached for your arms, locking them together. his free one gripped at your hair, pulling you back into his chest. “stop tryna run from me baby. you wanted this dick, so lemme give it to you.” he smirked as he pulled you in for a sloppy kiss.

𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔

does not fuck around. be bratty and you’ll suffer the consequences. loves rough sex and spanking, reserved especially when he thinks you’ve been stepping out of line. like when you’ve been having problems at your job with your coworkers snickering at you with snide remarks while you were working. so in turn, you’re snapping on him for little stuff you wouldn’t usually. he confronts you about this and when you finally opened up to him about what you’re dealing with, geto is deeply empathetic to your situation and offers you some stress relief in the best way he knows how, but not without a lil punishment first.

“and you better sound off too princess. you’ve hurt daddy’s feelings this week.” he spoke as he his large hands rubbed across the globe of your ass, before feeling two hard smacks on your left cheek. you lurched forward as you hissed. “fuck. i’m so sorry.” you uttered with a whine, hoping he accepted your apology. you weren’t sorry. it’s as if he knew the truth as he continued his assault on both cheeks of your ass, leaving them stinging and warm to the touch. tears rested at the corners of your eyes, threatening to fall. “you may not be right now but you will be soon.” you were confused as to what he meant by that but you soon understood as he positioned you onto all fours and you heard the buzzing sound of your vibrator coming from behind you.

𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔

munchiest munch to ever munch. and eats the booty too! does it for himself and will stay down there for hours if you let him. likes to get your pleasure out the way first cause when it’s his turn to focus on his, that stamina is fucking killer. it’s like he spent your first few orgasms as a warmup and this was the real workout. big dick but not in girth; in length, so he likes those deep, piercing strokes where he can hit that spot you like. missionary because you’re pretty? no. missionary because sato thinks he’s pretty but he also wants to see your reactions? yes.

“gotta give me room to move in this tight ass pussy. s-shit,” gojo hisses with a halt of his hips. he moves from side to side, as if he’s getting snug and securing his spot inside of you. he had been at this for an hour now…pulling 4 orgasms out of you with his tongue, and promising the fifth and final one was to come from his dick. your breath hitches as he starts his strokes back up, thrusting into you with vigor. “ah-ah breathe baby. how it feel?” he coos with that stupid fucking smug on his face as he continues to stroke into you deeply. one of satoru’s hands moves off of your hips, placing it right on your puffy clit tracing it in slow, sloppy circles. your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you felt that cord in your stomach beginning to snap, your orgasm so close you could taste it. you snapped out of your trance when you felt a hand grab at your hair, pulling you up to look at those piercing, blue eyes. “i want you to look at me while we cum together, kay?”

𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎

soft man. gentle touches and kisses cause he sees your body like a delicate flower. isn’t real big on rough sex foreal unless it’s been an absolutely stressful and nerve wracking week. doesn’t have to do too much but you still feel him with every nerve you have in your body. loves whispering sweet but absolutely filthy things against your ear, he likes the feeling of you tightening up on him as you take in what he says. since nanami is so laid back reserved i feel like that dick is nice and heavy and is LOUD AF in the sheets. exhibit a & b:

“just like that baby…keep riding that dick.” nanami’s baritone voice spoke lowly by your ear. you were writhing in pleasure as he bounced you up and down along his thick shaft. you two had been all over each other for about an hour now. as soon as he walked through the door, he was greeted by your presence with a warm meal and after that you ran him a nice bath, which is where you two started. nanami was so grateful to have you in his life and he couldn’t think of a better way to thank you right now besides making you come so much you seen stars. “i’m so close kento…help me,” you begged, tears starting to well up in your eyes. you felt your legs beginning to tire out. you had been bouncing on him for about 15 minutes now and on the brink of your second orgasm. his large hands gripped at your hips as he started to fuck you harder and faster from the bottom, signaling his soon release. “tell me you deserve it pretty girl.” you whimpered as you tried to find the words to satisfy him. “i-i deserve it baby. please” you cried out as a huge wave of pleasure overcame you.

𝐀𝐎𝐈 𝐓𝐎𝐃𝐎

the other reason i’m making this. many don’t appreciate him like i do but i loveee a built man. you know that song by sexyy red called ‘mad at me’? todo thinks that’s she made the song for him cause it’s exactly how he likes to put it down. don’t tease him in public cause he’s a lil pervert and will get his when and wherever he wants to. like when y’all were doing a lil getaway to a cabin for the weekend, but you couldn’t keep your hands off his thighs and playing with the waistband of his sweats so he pulled over for a little 30 minute intermission.

“all that teasing just for you to be running? tsk, you know better than that mama.” aoi grunted from behind you, his tattooed hand wrapped around your neck, preventing you from freeing yourself from his grasp. his free hand landed three hard slaps each against your ass. part of you didn’t think he would pull over just to put you in your place. but who are you kidding? you knew how much aoi hated teasing. you just thought he would’ve tried to wait until you guys reached your destination. the fact that you were so out in the open and any car passing by could see the compromising position you were in got you so much wetter. his dick began hitting a different angle inside of you that had you squealing and throwing yourself back on him. you wanted to feel him as much as you could. “you gone come for me? i wanna feel all that shit dripping down my dick.” his deep voice rang against the shell of your ear, kissing and sucking on the lobe. you began to feel your release getting closer and closer, his strokes getting harder and wetness running down your thighs when all of a sudden it just—stopped. aoi’s strokes slowed down as you felt his dick throbbing, pumping the last of his cum into you. he pulled your panties and shorts back up before leaving a wet kiss against your temple. “thanks baby, i needed that.” you could hear the smirk in his voice as he left you there to get yourself together.

[beifong-brainrot]

People will go on about how "Katara's story is a tragedy" because she... ended up marrying the guy she loves, having children and grandchildren which she was always excited about and literally becoming a master waterbender and rising to the top of her field as a healer.

Yes, Katara's story has tragic aspects to it. And there are certainly flaws in how she is written in tlok (Though I will argue that there are actually more issues with how Toph and Zuko are just plopped in there for no reason in later seasons). And her storylines aren't perfect, for example her resolving her trauma around the murder of her mother being more used to prop up Zuko than her own internal turmoil. (Most of TSR is from Zuko's perspective and I hate that actually)

"Katara's story is a tragedy" Why do you have such a hard on for this woman's misery? Let her be happy, man.

You know what gaang girlie's life is an actual onscreen tragedy?

Toph's!

People will fucking downplay Toph's childhood abuse because she wasn't physically hurt, but her childhood was a never ending carousel of abelism, misogyny, neglect and isolation. The way Toph describes her parent's treatment of her as "pressure and pain" is heartbreaking.

Toph's only escape was Earth Rumble and earthbending, but despite her skills, she remained the perfect little lady her parents always wanted her to be. She's never known a different life, and she was only able to be her real self in secret.

And when Toph finally opens up to her parents, when she finally lays her real self bare in front of the people who are supposed to love and care for her?

She is met with what may be, in my opinion, the cruellest rejection in the show.

Despite this, even when Toph runs away, she still cares for her parents' approval. Hell, she's even lured into a trap due to her getting a forged letter from her mom and getting excited because it looked like her mom was finally accepting her.

It's also important to note how determined to be self sufficient and to prove herself Toph is. We can especially see this right after she joins the Gaang, where she refuses to participate in splitting with the rest of the group, insisting on "pulling her own weight". This isn't Toph being a brat, or spoilt, this is her wanting to prove that she can handle herself because people have handled and understimated her her entire life.

Eventually, Toph starts to learn to trust the members of the Gaang and this is a step in the right direction. She's literally making friends for the first time in her life I'm so proud of her.

However, I was genuinely upset when Toph's life changing field trip with Zuko didn't work out. When Toph was trying to connect with Zuko and he blew her off (I'm not blaming him tho they had shit to do), I couldn't help but remember the rejection Toph suffered from Lao.

Post canon, Toph continues to try and prove herself, starting a metalbending school and training new metalbenders.

She also reconciles with her father. Not before Lao disowns he rmultiple times and calls her a rude, ungrateful thing. And while he eventually comes to understand Toph and cherish her, that type of trauma sticks with you.

So it's no wonder really that Toph, someone who went her entire childhood seemingly without even speaking to someone her age, would have trouble forming connections. She has children with two different men, neither of which seem to stick around.

Toph tries to do right by her daughters and gives them the freedom she never got. Sadly, the pendulum swung too far to the other side, since it seems that she started to neglect her daughters, which led to them developing a sleugh of issues of their own.

Toph becomes the cheif of police, which kind of makes sense. Republic City was only slowly emerging as an actual metropolis. Toph took on a role as a protector, and probably as a way to prove herself. But as Republic City grew, Toph probably realised that she became something she hated. A cog in the machine, and started to despise her job.

Searching for a semblance of the freedom and happiness her travels afforded her in her childhood, Toph leaves the city and takes up the life of a hermit in a swamp. She managed to fix her relationship with Suyin to some extent, but still seems reluctant or simply unable to connect with her daughter or grandchildren. Since she apparently hasn't seen Opal, a grown 20 year old woman since she was a little girl.

On the surface old Toph doesn't seem terribly dissimilar to young Toph, still tough and spunky. But she is more jaded, depressed and pessimistic. She comes out to save Suyin from immediate harm and manages to somewhat reconcile with Lin, but then she fucks right back off to the swamp where she seems to literally hide until Wu and Korra straight up force her to come with them.

Toph's story began with her alone and it seems to end with her alone as well. It's a story of a girl who grew up isolated and handled by others, and was woefully unprepared for the real world, which only jaded her further. She lives with the guilt of fucking up her daughters' lives and a belief in the pointlessness of life.

Toph started off longing to experience the world and ended up willingly isolating herself from it.

If that isn't a tragedy, I'm not sure what is.

Mind you, this is not the trauma olympics. I'm not saying that Toph has suffered more than Katara or that Katara's trauma is not as valid as Toph's. Katara and Toph's experiences are completely different, Katara being a victim of genocide and war, Toph being a victim of child abuse. I'm just saying that, objectively, Katara had a happier 'ending' than Toph.

[daddydixonscrossbow]

⭒ 𝙳𝚊𝚛𝚢𝚕 𝙳𝚒𝚡𝚘𝚗 𝙷𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚗𝚜 ⭒

⭒ Things I can literally picture Daryl doing [with the scenario(s) to prove my reasoning] - set in Alexandria

●☆● ☆● ☆● ☆●☆● ☆● ☆● ☆●☆● ☆●

⭒ Daryl would always make sure you are okay first

Once the dusts of the fight settled, Daryl looked for you, getting to you a quick as he can, “Y’okay? Hey, look at me.” He lifts your face to him, his hands running down checking for any bullet wounds.” You grab his hands, “Daryl, Daryl. I’m fine. I’m good.” You nod, “I’m good.” His eyes search your face, nodding as he reaches out to gently pinch your chin, “A’right.”

⭒ Pinching your chin would be something that Daryl would do all the time

When you first wake up and roll over, his fingers find their way to your chin. He gives you a gruff, “Mornin’” before planting his lips on yours. When you get ready to go out on a run without him, he’ll pinch your chin, thumb rubbing over it gently, “good luck, be safe.” He nods, “Y’hear me?” When you nod, he smirks, “A’right. Give’em hell.” He’d do it even if you’re just sitting around, hanging out. He would admire how someone like you could love someone like him. Oh, and he would always do it when he kisses your forehead.

⭒ Daryl would fully allow all hell to break loose if something happened to you

If word got out that you got hurt, he would be the first one to you, asking you what happened. Who did this to you. He would blame everyone for not keeping you safe. He would get in their faces, yelling and bitching. If word got out that you were captured, Daryl would leave right then and there, with or without anyone, and he wouldn’t stop until he found you. If someone wouldn’t tell him anything, he’d didn’t care about their life. He only cared about yours in that moment.

⭒ Daryl would always make a comment about Dog potentially liking you more than him

Dog took a liking to you right away, and ever since then, it seemed like Daryl had some sort of jealousy towards it, but he covered it up with humor, mumbling something along the lines of, “The hell, m’the one who rescued ya, not her” or “yeah, I like her better than you, too” you would always laugh, joking back by telling him to “be nice” and he would scoff with a half smirk while shaking his head, silently loving how you shower Dog in love.

⭒ Daryl would let you handle your own battles within the community, but the minute someone turns disrespectful towards you, that’s when he steps in

He would keep a fair enough distance while still listening in. He would smirk when you would bring out the attitude, glancing over to watch you stand your ground. He loved when you put people in their place, he found it attractive that you could hold your own, “I don’t give a fuck what Rick said, if he has a problem with it, he can come talk to me like a big boy..“ the guy speaks up, “Rick has bigger things to deal with right now, and your bitchy ass isn’t at the top of his list.” Daryl immediately stands up and starts walking over. You watch the guys face change as he steps back. Daryl walks up, “Don’t talk t’her like that.” He nods, “Go get Rick, tell’em I need to talk to him.”

⭒ Daryl would absolutely stay awake after you’ve fallen asleep, just holding you and taking in the moment

As you’re asleep, cuddled up against Daryl’s chest, he was awake. His hand gently running up and down your back as his other rests on your shoulder. He would listen to your breathing, taking in the smell of your shampoo, because it was a rare smell to have nowadays. He would just take it all in, enjoy every minute of you being there with him. Every time you moved or made a noise, he would look down, making sure you were alright. He was partly scared to have someone so close to him, knowing that it could all disappear in a split second, but that makes him even more grateful. Out of everyone, you picked him. He didn’t know why, but what he did know, is that he would do anything for you.

⭒ When he’s out on a run, if he sees something that he thinks you’d like, he’ll pick it up for you

You made your way towards the gate as you heard it being opened. You smile as you heard the rev of his motorcycle growing louder the closer it got. As soon as he stops and turns off his bike, he gets off, walking up to you. He would try to be nonchalant about it, but once he seen how much you light up when he gives you gifts, he can’t help but turn into a bashful idiot himself. He was already fighting back a smile as he handed you the necklace, “S’not much, but.. here y’go, darlin’.” You smirked as you took it, examining the small jewel in your hand before looking up at him, “God, I love you more and more, Daryl Dixon.” You lean in, pecking his lips and he bats the air, “Yeah, well. I love you, too.”

⭒ Daryl would definitely check your weapons and make sure they’re good before you even thought about going out

You would come downstairs to see Daryl sitting on the couch, your knife in his hand. You would walk up to him, leaning over, “Whatcha doin’?” He would shake his head slightly, “Jus’checkin’ out your weapons, makin’ sure they’re good.” He would spin the blade, “Ya sharpen these recently?” He looks over as you sit down and you nod, “Last night.” He smirks, nodding as he leans forward to set the knife on the table, “That’s good.” You lean over to him, informing him that he doesn’t always need to worry about you, but he brushes it off, “Can’t help it, jus’love ya, too much.”

I can’t think of anymore but if I do, I’ll make a new post.

Here’s a kiss for likin’ and rebloggin’ 💋

[starkeyisthelastname]

No bc imagine you’re over at pornstar!Rafe’s house one night and he hooks his phone up to his TV to play some music while you fuck and it immediately just starts blaring your solo porn. I would literally be so fuckin smug about it that he would fuck me within an inch of my life.😋 (I’d also never let him live it down, I’d be bringing that shit up when we were 50)

because your ego needs boosted too sometimes. just don’t get too excited about it. 💦🤩

Pornstar!Rafe didn’t invite girls over very often, his private space was his private space, so the fact he had started slowly inviting you over every week, was a big step to him. It wasn’t anything he couldn’t handle, you two were strictly just fucking still. But…fuck did you look pretty, naked in his bed as your fingers played with your wet pussy.

He knew things were going to get loud, and with that he tore his eyes away from you to turn on his tv so that he could play music. It wasn’t music that played when the screen came to life, it was a familiar solo video that you had shot last year. Your sweet moans blared through the speaker, the realization that he had jerked off to your own porn for his pleasure definitely had your head feeling big.

The smirk on your face, had Rafe’s striking blue eyes flashing a darker color as he realized the power of control he had was slipping and you were winning this time. Just not for long… as the man had you folded in half, legs nearly behind your head as he slammed into your hole. Maybe he was embarrassed, but he wasn’t going to admit that. He’d rather fuck your life off with his dick.

“Yeah, who’s fuckin smirkin now?” Rafe spat at you, his large hands coming to nearly smother your face as he used it as support to drill into you.

You gasped, his dick hitting your cervix as his toned hips slapped against yours at his pussy ruining pace. “H-holy shit.. you are so fucking big…” You cried, eyes rolling back underneath his hands as he basically was trying to erase what you saw on his tv.

Whether you liked it or not, Rafe felt he had been caught showing his obsession with you too early for his liking and he needed to fuck it out of you. “Shut up, don’t wanna hear nothin out of that whore mouth unless it’s my fucking name.”

You could believe how deep he was, somehow his size still as shocking as the first time. You didn’t care how rough or nasty he was, you loved all of it and the only man’s name you wanted to be screaming for the rest of your life was Rafe Cameron.

“Rafe! Rafe! Rafe!” It was like a sweet desperate cry of pleasure the way he had you creaming all over his cock much like in the solo video he had watched. Except this was so much fucking better, his dirty self getting off on how you just kept babbling his name. There was no other bitch that compared to the moans and screams of his sweet fucking angel. Yeah his..

His hands that had been covering your face removed themselves, one going to squeeze your throat, and the other roughly grabbing your jaw. “What are you fucking doing to me, huh?” He asked, eyes dark and face serious, all while he completely fucked you up in the best, most addicting way possible.

[writeriguess]

i love your works and i have a request

bakugou x reader where the reader is the only one who can calm him down? he is arguing with kiri and she only has to look at him to calm him down and everyone is stunned by it

author's note: Thank you <3

Serenity

It was a normal day at U.A., or at least as normal as it could get with Class 1-A. Training had gone well enough, and everyone was winding down, gathering in the common room after dinner. That peace, however, didn’t last long—because Katsuki Bakugou and Eijiro Kirishima were at each other’s throats.

Again.

“You’re so damn stubborn, Bakugou!” Kirishima snapped, his usual easygoing demeanor nowhere to be found. His sharp teeth bared slightly, frustration clear in the way his brows furrowed. “Why can’t you just let someone help you once in a while?”

“I don’t fucking need help!” Bakugou growled, hands twitching at his sides as small explosions crackled from his palms. His crimson eyes burned with intensity, shoulders tense and jaw clenched. “I’m not some weakling who needs to be babysat, shitty hair!”

It wasn’t unusual for Bakugou to get like this. He had a short fuse, and sometimes, even Kirishima’s patience couldn’t keep up. The rest of the class had learned to steer clear when the blond was in one of his moods, but tonight, something felt different. His explosions were sparking closer to the ground, the air crackling with the raw energy of his anger.

“Dude, we’re your friends!” Kirishima pressed on, his voice rising to match Bakugou’s. “We’re not saying you’re weak, but—”

“I don’t need a damn pep talk!” Bakugou interrupted, his voice nearly a roar now. His fists clenched tightly, explosions bursting erratically at his sides. “I—”

You sighed.

You had been sitting on the couch, watching the argument unfold, but now, you decided it had gone on long enough. Without a word, you stood up and stepped between them, placing yourself directly in front of Bakugou.

And then—

You looked at him.

Not with fear. Not with exasperation. Just looked at him.

His breath hitched. The tension in his shoulders sagged almost instantly, and the crackling explosions from his hands flickered before fizzling out completely. His hands dropped to his sides, fingers flexing as though searching for something to do now that they weren’t radiating anger. His brows knitted together, his lips parted slightly, and a deep exhale left his chest as if he had been holding it in this whole time.

The entire room went silent.

The rest of Class 1-A exchanged glances, stunned beyond words.

Kirishima blinked, taking half a step back. “Uh… what the hell just happened?” he muttered, looking between you and Bakugou like he had just witnessed an act of sorcery.

“Did… did Y/N just calm Bakugou down?” Kaminari whispered, eyes wide.

“No way…” Mina breathed, leaning forward as if she needed to see it closer to believe it. “That’s impossible.”

Yet, it was happening.

Bakugou, who had been one second away from either blowing up the room or storming off in rage, now stood completely still, his face unreadable. His sharp, furious crimson eyes had softened, the tension in his body had drained away, and the only thing that had changed was that you had looked at him.

You tilted your head slightly, your eyes searching his, waiting for him to say something.

His jaw clenched. Then unclenched. Then, in a voice much quieter than before, he muttered, “Tch. Whatever.”

That was as close to an admission of surrender as anyone would ever get from him.

Your lips curled into the smallest of smiles, and that alone made Bakugou avert his gaze with a scowl, rubbing the back of his neck as if embarrassed.

The silence stretched, thick with disbelief.

Sero was the first to break it. “Holy shit,” he said, staring at you with newfound awe. “That was… insane.”

“Right?” Kaminari agreed, his mouth slightly agape. “I’ve literally never seen Bakugou calm down that fast in my life.”

“You might actually have superpowers,” Mina whispered, completely serious.

“Forget heroes,” Kirishima said, blinking at you. “You might be a damn miracle worker.”

Bakugou clicked his tongue. “Shut up,” he grumbled, though there was no bite to his words. His usual anger had dimmed into something else—something quieter. Something softer.

You simply shrugged, turning back to the couch and sitting down again like nothing had happened. “You guys overreact too much,” you said lightly, leaning back into the cushions.

“We overreact?” Mina scoffed. “You just tamed a whole-ass dragon with one look.”

Kirishima shook his head with a small chuckle. “Man, that was wild.” He crossed his arms, his frustration from before already forgotten. “But hey, at least it worked.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Bakugou grumbled, rubbing his temples. He was still looking at you out of the corner of his eye, like he was trying to figure out exactly how you did what you just did.

The others continued murmuring about it, but you just shot Bakugou a small smirk before focusing back on your phone.

And despite himself, despite all the eyes on him, despite how infuriatingly obvious it was that you had some kind of effect on him—Bakugou didn’t look away.

He just sighed, stuffed his hands into his pockets, and sat down next to you, the tension completely gone.

Like it never existed in the first place.

[hedwig221b]

I recently realized that I’ve literally never read a teen wolf ff despite being a huge fan of the show and sterek. So now I’m on the hunt for a rlly good one to start with but I’m having a bit of trouble finding one that not only fits what I’m looking for but actually has good writing (no offense to the authors I just want my first one to be a good one that hooks me like Crimson Rivers hooked me into the marauders fandom😅)

so could you recommend me some that aren’t aus, not necessarily canon but canon is okay, werewolf or human stiles, with sterek (I do love a slow burn but doesn’t have to be), maybe some of your favorites?

What an honor to introduce you to sterek fanfiction omg! Here is a list of what I consider sterek classics (the canon kind), my beloved 💖

Hide Of A Life War by Etharei

“We have received confirmation that there is a hostage situation in progress at a warehouse compound two hours out of Los Angeles, following a multiple-vehicle pileup on Highway 101 this morning...” The one in which Stiles has lived to (legal) adulthood and, along the way, become a bit of a badass himself.

here is the deepest secret nobody knows by owlpostagain

“Derek,” Stiles groans. “You have me. You’ve always had me, you absolute moron, how many physically impossible feats of life-saving heroics do I have to perform before you get it?”

between the click of the light and the start of the dream by thepsychicclam

A twig snaps, and then Stiles hears breathing and the rustle of leaves. He strains to get a better glimpse into the darkness, but it’s pointless. There’s nothing but a black void. It's Stiles' senior year, and he's trying to concentrate on normal things - like the lacrosse championship, spring break, prom, graduation (and definitely not Derek) - when he starts having nightmares and waking up in the middle of nowhere. Oh yeah, and he's being haunted by a hag. Great.

Home by TheTypewriterGirl

January seventh. Seven days since the start of 2015, and seven days since his father’s death. The bastard, he thinks bitterly. The past year Derek Hale had made it blatantly obvious that he hated his scrawny guts, taking every given opportunity to shove him up against a wall, growl threats in his ears and roll his eyes whenever he stepped into the room, muttering some snide comment about how spastic or idiotic he was. So why did he fucking volunteer to take him in?

I Know Where Babies Come From, Derek by DiscontentedWinter

Stiles finds a baby on the porch. It looks exactly like him. Well, this is awkward.

And You Say You're Alone by bi_leigh_bi

Between the kanima, the Argents, and Peter's untimely return from the dead, everything has fallen apart. Stiles and Derek try to put their lives back together once the crisis has passed. Stiles deals with the aftermath of being tortured, and the distance growing between he and Scott. Derek attempts to become a stronger alpha and keep his pack safe, and that includes Stiles.

stuck in reverse by crazyassmurdererwall (smartalli)

Look, Derek is the worst. Everyone knows that. Their fearless leader is a total and complete failwolf. Which means the rest of them? Are kind of the worst too. They’re a ramshackle, slap dashed, sorry excuse for a pack that’s about a half second away from getting one of them killed. And this is a problem, because Stiles would really like to survive high school. Thanks. Still, nobody deserves what Derek has gone through. Nobody. And it’s about time somebody told him that.

Pale Horses by Jana_C 

Being bitten had never been on his to-do list, but he could deal with that. Helping Derek Hale become a competent Alpha, though, that was so not in his job description.

A Similar String by snarkatthemoon 

Strong bonds made for a strong pack, and he needed a strong pack. They spent a long time in silence, Derek thinking hard about how he was going to cement the bonds. It needed to be done, and not just because they had the threat of the witch hanging over them, but for the good of the pack. It felt like hours had passed by the time he came around; he had been so deep in his thoughts that he hadn’t noticed Stiles moving around on the couch so that his head was resting on Derek’s thigh, his long legs hanging over the arm on the far end. He wasn’t sleeping, but his eyes were closed and his heartbeat wasn’t as fast as it usually was, as if he was just on the edge of sleep. It should have felt weird, having Stiles in such close contact, but Derek found that it really didn’t feel weird at all. His head was a comforting weight in Derek’s lap, another anchor tethering him and keeping him calm and in control. . Or, the one where Derek meets a witch, gets his betas back, and seemingly develops a sense of humour. Also, Stiles is totally magic, manages to accidentally join a werewolf pack, and asks too many goddamn questions. What could possibly go wrong?

The One You Choose by Asterekmess (Livinginfictions)

Stiles hadn’t seen Scott in over a week, except for glances he caught during school hours.

Hold Me Close (I'm Falling Apart) by ajeepandleather

“Wolves without an emissary are naturally turbulent because their instincts are wild. Subconsciously, you’ve been balancing them, but you aren’t tied to the pack so you aren’t getting a balance in return.” “So, they’re bleeding me dry. Always knew they were parasites.” Stiles smiled dryly. “You’ll need to attach yourself to an alpha soon. There are risks for an unbalanced druid.” “Like?” “Well, a disruption in balance may show itself in several ways. It’s a disruption in nature, so nature will twist and alter in an attempt to right itself.” “What does that mean?” Stiles was getting anxious. The vet was avoiding giving direct answers and that never meant anything good. “You’re magic is heavily entwined with your will, and your will is parallel to your mind.” “I’ll go insane.”

Not Your Disney Romance by Wrennefer (Wrenegadeone)

After a long-forgotten agreement of an arranged marriage between Derek and the daughter of another pack's alpha resurfaces, Stiles takes it upon himself to become the most amazing fake fiancé that a clueless, desperate alpha werewolf could wish for.

spiderweb of lies by pineneedlepants

Derek gets a chance to gain his alpha powers back. The only one throwing a wrench in those plans is Scott.

Sparks and shadows by Nival_Vixen 

Stiles has to figure out a way to maintain a balance between his spark and the darkness inside of him.

The Roads Not Followed by SylvieW

Scott decides to leave Beacon HIlls with Allison and her father. Stiles is left alone to deal with the supernatural troubles of his home town, so he turns to Derek. Years later, Scott’s new pack is threatened, and the only ones who can help them are the Hale pack and Derek’s powerful mate.

It’s Not Pretend When It’s Real by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella)

“At least we got this far,” Stiles argued. “Could’ve been worse. For now, they know he’s taken by someone in the pack.” “Mm hm,” Lydia said, giving him a look. “You realize that you are now going to have to pretend to date Derek, right?” Stiles rolled his eyes. “Oh no, what a hardship. That sucks, boo hoo.” He motioned Derek emphatically. “He’s like, my best friend.” “Hey!” Scott insisted. “He’s like, my second best friend,” Stiles amended. “It’s fine, we’ll figure it out. Right?” He turned to grin at Derek, who was scowling at him.

Running Up That Hill by maypoison

“Even before the pack joined together, Scott was trying to protect you. And he still is trying to protect you, even if it means leaving you out of all this.” Stiles does roll his eyes at that. “Yeah, but it didn’t work did it. I was still involved, and so was my Dad. We were nearly killed by Matt, and then Gerard.” “My point is, people change. Relationships aren’t always perfect. Scott's tried to kill me before." Stiles raises an eyebrow. "So, you’re saying that someone trying to kill you is just a small flaw in a relationship?" “We’re werewolves.” Derek answers with a shrug, as if that was a perfectly good explanation.

It Was a Wednesday by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella)

“What happened? Where are you? What’s that sound?” Derek jumped, having momentarily forgotten Scott was on the phone with him because Stiles had started moving. He’d stalked over to the other side of the cave, still eying Derek warily and growling, then settled protectively over a mass of clothes, leaves and animal innards. It was probably where he was sleeping. Lovely. No wonder he smelled like death. “Stiles,” Derek said, answering Scott’s question. Or, one of them, at least. “Stiles? What do you—Stiles is making that noise?” “Yes.” “Why?” “How fast do you think you can make it to the south lot of the Preserve?”

Protect and Serve by MoonlitMemories

Stiles discovers the Nemeton starting to grow again in the preserve on Hale land. What does that mean for the pack? More importantly: why does the Nemeton seem so attached to Stiles?

The More That I Know You (the more I want to) by LadySlytherin

When death, in the form of hunters, comes for a family of Kelpies seeking refuge in the Preserve - in Hale territory - the Hale Pack is too late to save them. Before he dies, the male Kelpie presses a precious bundle into Stiles’ arms and begs the Emissary to take responsibility for it, which an initially reluctant Stiles does. When he agreed, Stiles had no idea what the sight of him with a baby would do to his esteemed Alpha, Derek. If he’d known, he might not have been so reluctant to agree.

Wolf Cub by moodwriter

A strange wolf is not supposed to touch another pack’s cub and that’s why, on a rescue mission, it’s Stiles’ job to take care of the wolf cub who’s curious about everything and everyone. Stiles is not used to werewolf children, and the pack is not used to Stiles taking care of a child. Their Alpha gets very confused about this, too.

Thanks for Thumper, But I Prefer Cheeseburgers by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella)

The wolf’s head whipped around so fast, Stiles felt like he was watching The Exorcist. Stiles wondered if he could just stand still enough to make the wolf think he was a tree. A very bright red and jean-clad tree. He doubted it, but one could hope. He knew it was a lost cause when the wolf turned fully, lips pulled back from its sharp teeth—so very sharp, good fucking Lord!—and began walking towards Stiles. “I didn’t see anything!” Stiles shouted, both hands out in front of himself and sweat instantly breaking out across his skin. “I swear to you! I didn’t see anything! I didn’t see anything! I won’t tell anyone! I won’t! I’ll keep this to myself, until the day I die! I promise! I promise!”

I know you mentioned no aus, but it would be a crime for me not to mention these absolute treasures that are staples in sterek fanfiction experience. The characters are on point, and the writing is magnificent

Don't Savage The Messenger by exclamation

There is an uneasy truce between the werewolves in the woods and the humans who live in Beacon Hills, protected by a magical boundary that gives warning any time a werewolf crosses it. Then the sheriff is taken by the werewolves and his son offers himself in exchange. Stiles promises to serve the werewolf pack, not knowing what horrible use they might have for him. But it turns out his most useful skill is the ability to cross the boundary line between humans and werewolves. Life with the werewolves is nothing like he feared and the werewolves themselves are nothing like the hunters' stories would have him believe.

Actions Speak Louder than Words by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella)

“I apologize.” The cop finally looked back up at his face, seeming thrilled. “It’s just—it’s been so long. And we finally have you.” That was a bad word. Not found. Have. Stiles wrenched his hand free and took a step back, but before he could even think up a gameplan, he felt a prick in his neck and jerked away, reaching up to slap one hand against it and twisting in the same moment. One of the others had come up behind him while he hadn’t been paying attention, and his vision began to swim even as his eyes caught sight of the half-empty syringe the guy was holding.

Divided We Stand by KouriArashi

Derek is being pressured by his family to pick a mate, and somehow stumbles into a choice that they didn't expect and aren't sure they approve of....

What Fresh Twilight Bullshit Is This? by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella)

“I am not Bella!” he insisted, shaking his fist angrily at Jackson, as if he’d been the one to suggest he was. “I am not Bella! I am, like, a Jacob, at least!” Lydia made a noise of debate from his right and he whipped around to look at her. “What?! What was that sound?!” “You’re more of a Mike,” she insisted, shrugging neatly and flipping some curls over her shoulder. “Wha—” Stiles had never been so offended in his life! “I am not! No way! I am a solid Jacob!” “Mike,” she argued. “Who’s Mike?” Scott asked. “Shut up, Scott!” Stiles insisted, pointing a finger at him but still glaring at Lydia.

My, What Big Shoulders You Have (The Better to Help You Carry the Weight) by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella) 

“Talia was just telling me an interesting story,” his dad informed him. Stiles didn’t have the nerve to glance over at him, because he knew no matter how much he argued, the proof was all there. The wolves had found him, Parrish had picked him up on the side of the road, he had a fucking picture on his phone. He was screwed. No point in arguing, all it’d do is piss his father off even more. “You don’t say,” Stiles offered slowly. “What uh—you know, I like stories. Is it a uh, good one?” ��It seems to be a matter of opinion,” Talia said with another kind smile. “I hear you had quite the night last night.” Okay, time to cut his losses. He was already fucked, all he could do was apologize and hope she didn’t press for him to get fined and arrested. Given he was her husband’s friend’s son, he had high hopes. “I’m really sorry,” Stiles blurted out. “It was stupid and-and irresponsible and just—I am so sorry. I shouldn’t have crossed into your territory. I should’ve known better, I do know better! It was a complete lapse in judgement and I am just—I am so sorry.”

Cloaked in Gold by kaistrex (weishen)

Stiles' world tilts, the bed dipping as a weight settles over him, caging him in. Growling. His eyes flutter open in distant confusion as hot air sweeps over his throat and he stares up at twin beams of gold shining inches from his face. Werewolf. Stiles does the only thing he can. “DAD!” The werewolf jumps at the sudden shout, blanketing him tighter, and it’s only seconds until his dad is in his bedroom doorway with Melissa close behind, flicking on the light. Stiles' mouth drops open as he stares up at the thick eyebrows, sharp nose and perfectly groomed stubble of a golden-eyed and fanged Derek Hale. - When son of the Alpha, Derek Hale, ends up in his bed in heat, Stiles decides to use it to his advantage and secure the Bite for his sick stepbrother. As he and his family are welcomed into the Hale pack, Stiles grows closer to Derek than he'd ever dreamed he'd get, but with the fanged Soulbite of a born wolf on Derek's neck, he knows he's just setting himself up for heartbreak. Derek has a Soulmate out there, and it definitely isn't Stiles.

Waiting by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella)

Not wanting to think on it too much, Stiles took a step forward and passed his hand between the bars, moving the bleeding side closer to Derek’s mouth. “Not too close, he bites.” Stiles snatched his hand away just as Derek had been about to lick at it. The snarl he got in response was not comforting. “He what?” Stiles asked nervously, turning to Deaton. The man looked a little amused. “Don’t worry, only if he doesn’t like you.” “Well, he probably hates me, now!” Stiles insisted, turning back to Derek. He looked extremely displeased.

The Boy and the Beast by Dira Sudis (dsudis)

In which events in Beacon Hills go rather differently from the start, and a Beauty and the Beast (ish) story ensues. (Scott is not a teacup and no one sings about their feelings.)

[masterlist link]

[xoey101]

☾𖤓 ; @dawnbreakerbrokeme asked: “Hiyyaaaa Zoey 👋! I saw that your request was open, so I'm taking a leap of faith and requesting something that I've been think about for a while. I'm a zayne girlie so...what if he caught y/n grinding against his pillow late at night after he gets home? That's my request..you don't have to do this if you don't want to, I'm just curious and always ovulating for zayne.....”

hi lovely!! this is my first ask omgomgomg hope i can give you what you’re craving xx

zayne’s just come in from a long day at work. he’s exhausted, slipping off his tie and shoes by the front door, not even taking the time to put them away neatly like usual. 

he makes a beeline for his bedroom, but stops dead in his tracks after hearing the most peculiar noises echoing from that direction.

at first, it doesn’t even dawn on him that you’re masturbating—he’d hear your moans and think you were hurt.

so, heart pounding out of his chest, he races for the door, turning the knob with deathly anticipation.

and there you are. you definitely aren’t hurt, to say the least.

you’re all tangled up in the sheets with his pillow in between your legs. and you’re wearing nothing but your panties and his t-shirt.

“zayne—“ you stop moving your hips, and your heart almost falls through the floor. 

he’s incredibly relieved that you’re okay, but his brain practically short-circuits at the sight of you grinding against his pillow in his bed, wearing his shirt.

“insatiable as ever,” he mumbles from the doorway, trying to maintain his cool demeanor. 

he steps closer, tiredness immediately dissipating.

“my love, there’s no need to do this,” he gestures to his pillow, “when you have me at your disposal.” he chuckles gently.

“i know, i’m sorry i just, i needed you so bad and nothing else worked….” you trail off, realizing you’re coming across as desperate.

zayne shushes you softly, leaning over to press a wet, heated kiss against your lips. “i’m here now, that’s all that matters isn’t it?”

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

he fucks you realllll good after walking in on you like that; he knows that the fact you were using his pillow for relief means you’re truly pent-up, and he plans on taking care of that.

he’s got you in a mating press, thighs slug over his shoulders lazily as he snaps his hips into you without rest. 

sweat rolling off his forehead from the sheer work he’s putting in to fucking you right, he’s still thinking about walking in on you.

“can’t believe—“he grunts. “my love was doing something so awful while i was out saving lives—“ 

you mewl, hardly able to focus on his words because of how deep he is. “m’sorry zayne, i’ll make it up to you,” you scream, gripping on to him for dear life.

he speeds up his pace, fingers grabbing greedily at your hips to pull himself even deeper into you, engulfed by your wetness and warmth.

you pant shallowly, trying not to give away the fact that you’re close to your orgasm.

and yet, as attentive as ever, zayne reaches down to finger your clit. “don’t hold back,” he moans out. “take what you need from me.”

and that sends you right over the edge. you’re cumming so hard that it quite literally takes your breath away, and all you can do is shake around zayne as he fucks into you, chasing his own orgasm. 

completely spent, zayne manages to move your limp body over before plopping face first beside you into the bed.

the two of you are a sticky, sweaty mess, almost enmeshed with his crisp white bedding.

zayne tilts his head over to you, feeling a bit playful.

“maybe…. you can continue to take advantage of my pillow when i’m gone.”

[qqueenofhades]

I got political whiplash on Threads. First, everyone was screaming, “All is lost!” I came back an hour later, and everyone was screaming, “We Ride at Dawn!”

The right-wingers are in panic mode. Steven Miller was practically screaming on Feckless news. 🤣

I mean. The right-wingers' entire mentality, the fuel for the January 6 attempted coup, the recent SCOTUS President God-King Immunity ruling, and all the rest, is premised on the simple fact that the president is indeed, Almighty God King who serves for life and will never, ever willingly give up his power. So that's how I can guarantee that the GOP, because they are short-sighted fascist morons, did not plan for this. Their entire strategy was built around attacking Biden, because they hate him. Like, really hate him. He defeated Trump the first time and there was still a good chance that he could do it again. Trump got impeached the first time for trying to extort Zelenskyy for dirt on Biden, because he didn't want to face him. That's why they went after Hunter on largely bogus charges, tossed around the idea of impeaching Biden, actually (uselessly) impeached Mayorkas, etc.

And yet, because Biden (even if he was forced to do it) decided to step away and voluntarily give up his presidential power instead of wrecking American democracy to hold onto it, that has broken their little shriveled fascist brains. They literally can't comprehend it, and I can guarantee they're now shit scared about having to face Kamala, a brown woman, who is the epitome of everything their tiny evil brains hate. As noted by those bangin' fundraising numbers, there is also a lot of excitement around her. And suddenly, after MONTHS of "this election is a referendum on which old and mentally declining man you hate more," that has been removed as a factor. (Watch the media suddenly forget all about age and/or mental competency as a factor now that Biden is out. Does it apply to Trump, you ask? CRICKETS.)

Kamala is going to mop the f'n floor with Trump at the next presidential debate, and I guarantee that the GOP knows that too. Because yes, if Biden had another bad debate, or if he has a bad case of COVID that might end up giving him long-covid symptoms or keeping him off the trail for days or weeks, that would have been very, very hard to recover from. Now the GOP is the one stuck with an old, mentally baffled, virulently hated presidential candidate and the most pro-Russia, anti-woman, demonstrable-sellout whitebread VP pick imaginable, that they had to choose because Trump nearly got the last one killed and he wasn't interested in the job again, for some weird reason. And as we have pointed out before, this is the last-chance saloon for Trump in any number of ways, and he has been demonstrably overconfident the last few weeks as the media was consumed with discussion of Biden's stumbles rather than Trump's manifold unfitness, treason, felonies, and all the rest.

I don't agree with Biden on everything he has ever done in his long career in public service, but I will say that I don't think he would have actually done this if he wasn't eventually convinced, for whatever reason that might be, that it was the right decision. And my one big fear about him stepping down was that the party would instantly fracture, people would start flogging unrealistic Magical White Boy replacements, and otherwise insist on an "open mini-primary!" or some other fucking bullshit. Now, there are still a few idiots trying that, but by and large, the Democratic power apparatus has instantly thrown its weight behind Kamala. That doesn't excuse them for the weeks of wibbling Anonymous Sources self-sabotage beforehand, and I still vote that we destroy the billionaires at our next opportunity, but if we can stick with that and keep up those mongo fundraising numbers, we might indeed actually have a better chance than before, and that was what this was all about.

As I noted yesterday, Black women have been disproportionately influential in taking Trump down (think Leticia James, Fani Willis, etc) and there is undoubtedly a huge, HUGE amount of poetic justice if Kamala can be the one to stick the knife in his greasy orange gut once and for all. I can likewise guarantee the GOP is well aware of that, and the fact that while they can yell even louder and trot out the same old racist, sexist, misogynist fearmongering dirtbag attacks they used on HRC, that is a strategy with demonstrably diminishing returns (it sure as hell isn't going to help them win any more female or suburban or black voters or anyone else we always hear about how they're Making Inroads with). And we're not going to talk about how it's Obvious that America would never elect a black female president. Obama won two terms. Even with all that weight of frothing misogyny and DECADES of Republican smear machines, HRC won the popular vote and was ratfucked out of the Electoral College by the slimmest of margins, after a massive interference campaign by the Russians. It is fucking possible, we are going to do it, and the Republicans are so, SO FUCKING SCARED of having to live in an America run by a brown woman, that can only be for the good.

Kamala Harris 2024. Let's go.

[nastybuckybarnes]

Mouse Trap

Pairing: Ghost X Reader

Summary: Ghost's little mouse finds herself stuck in a trap. Who better to save her?

Warnings: Violence, Language, Angst, Fluff, kinda unhinged Ghost?, Torture ig, murder, Injuries, self-hate kinda i guess

Word Count: 2.5k

A/n: I'm literally in love with this little series, i think it will forever have a special place in my heart

~*~

Days go by since Ghost last saw you, since he fucked you, and the skulls seem to disappear once again.

His little street mouse has disappeared without a trace.

Ghost is a man of logic. A man who can use the information at hand to come to the most realistic conclusion.

And, in this case, you've realized what a fucking nutcase he is and have decided you never want to see him again.

I mean, what else could it be?

His sour mood is taken out on anyone and everyone unfortunate enough to get in his way.

And today is no different.

His brows are permanently furrowed and his grip on his riffle is unwavering as he and Soap do their rounds.

The Scot is quiet for a long while before deciding to try and poke the bear.

"Still nothin from yer mouse?" He asks, knowing damn well the answer.

Ghost says nothing, doesn't even address the fact that the man has spoken.

"You ever think of... lookin for her? I mean, she doesn't exactly spend time in the safest areas," he presses.

If Soap hadn't spent as much time with the bigger man as he has, he wouldn't have noticed the slight falter in Ghost's steps.

Sure, he'd looked for you, but the idea of you being hurt or even killed wasn't one he entertained.

In his mind, no one would be stupid enough to touch what's his, but people have certainly tried before.

His world shifts slightly, the tension in his shoulders changing. He's no longer worried that you're hiding from him, no. Now he's wondering who would take you and where they'd hide you.

Those are the thoughts that occupy his every waking moment for days, until he finally gets his answer.

While combing the streets for any sign of you -or the hostiles he's supposed to be looking for- there's a gift from God.

On the ground, in what looks alarmingly close to blood, is a skull drawing. And a trail of the same blood-like substance leads him better than breadcrumbs.

"Soap, on my six," he murmurs into his radio, carefully following the blood trail as it leads deeper into the city, into enemy territory.

Soap is quick to meet up with the Lieutenant, eyes and ears peeled as Ghost comes to a halt outside of an old office building.

"Wha're we doin' here, Lt?" He asks quietly, watching his back as Ghost picks the lock.

"Savin' my mouse."

The lock opens with a soft 'click' and he shoulders the door open, staying low and scanning the first room quickly.

He motions for Soap to follow and the Scot does, sticking close as the slowly sweep room after room.

As they go up the stairs, Ghost slows, tilting his head to the side as he hears the sound of muffled voices not far away.

He follows the sound, being extra careful as the voice gets louder and louder, until he can make out the words.

His stomach drops the tiniest bit as they approach the third floor.

He's done this countless times, this should be no different.

But it is different.

You're in there. He has no room for error. Not when your life could be on the line.

A man is speaking, and Ghost takes that as his cue to creep into the hallway.

Soap grabs his shoulder, giving him a strong look.

"This could be a trap. We should call the rest of the team."

The skull-faced man only stares at him for a long while then tugs out of his grip.

"S'not a trap, Johnny. She's in there. You wanna leave, go. M'not leavin without her." With that, he turns back to the hallway and moves forward.

Though he has his doubts, Soap follows closely behind, staying silent as the voice gets louder.

Other sounds are able to be heard now, too. These ones confirming Ghost's suspicions.

Feminine grunts, groans, and cries of pain.

At the sound of your voice, a switch flips inside of the large man and he's quickly and silently moving forward, taking down any hostiles in his path. Anyone that stands between him and you is promptly killed, dropping to the ground with quiet 'thud's.

The man that's been torturing you drops his knife onto the table and yanks your head back by your hair, forcing you to look at him again.

"I'm gonna ask you one last time, doll face: who sent you?"

Your eyes roll in your head for a moment before finally focusing on him.

It's been several days of this, if not longer, and you're starting to worry that your Ghost, that Simon, isn't coming for you.

You still stay strong, saying nothing.

This only seems to aggravate him further. He drops your head and walks back over to his table of torture toys, looking for something suitable for what he has planned for you.

Your eyes flutter to a movement in the doorway of the room, and you feel your heart fill with hope as one of the guards gets yanked into the hallway.

Familiar eyes peer into the room, immediately locking on yours, and you feel safe.

He's here. He came for you.

You knew he would.

He presses a finger to his lips, urging you to stay silent, and you give him a soft nod of understanding. Your eyes flutter back to your kidnapper, and you watch as he picks up a pair of pliers.

He clicks them together a few times then turns to face you, a wicked grin on his face.

"If you're not going to use that tongue, there's no sense in having it, is there?" He asks rhetorically.

He steps forward, grabbing your jaw roughly, and then he's collapsing on top of you, his blood spilling across your face.

You let out a startled scream, jerking your head back as he rolls onto the floor.

The room is suddenly filled with chaos.

A gun is pressed to your head, and Ghost has another man in a headlock, his eyes on yours.

"Keep those eyes on me, Mouse," he orders, making sure your gaze is locked on his as he snaps the mans neck.

"Don't come any closer!" The man holding the gun to your head warns, pressing it against you harder.

You wince but your eyes never leave Ghosts. Not even when he produces a small blade and whips it at the man beside you.

Ghost steps toward him as he writhes on the ground, yanking him up by the collar of his shirt and ripping the blade out of his eye socket.

"That's for lookin' at her. Imagine what m'gonna do to you for touchin' her," he snarls, big hand nearly crushing the man's windpipe.

You stare at them as Soap comes to your aid, freeing you from the rope binding you to the chair.

"Maybe, if you apologize nice and proper, I'll let you live," Ghost whispers, his eyes empty and hard as he looks at the man.

"Look at her with your good eye and tell her how sorry you are."

The man's head whips around to you and he stutters out an apology.

"Now, tell me how sorry you are."

He turns back to Ghost with his mouth open to apologize and you flinch as another gunshot rings out, and then he's crumpling to the floor in a heap, blood pouring from both eyes.

You stare at his corpse, at the dead man who threatened your life, then slowly bring your eyes up as the man who saved you approaches.

"How's she lookin', Johnny?" He asks, crouching down in front of you as Soap presses some gauze to your thigh tightly.

You whine at the pain, and Ghost gives one of your hands a squeeze.

"Not great. Bleedin' real heavy. We can drop her off at one of the med tents and-"

"Not happenin'," Ghost interupts.

He pulls you from the chair and carefully lays you on the floor, working with Soap to try and slow the bleeding as much as possible.

Your head spins as the adrenaline slowly leaves you, and you lift a hand in search of your big soldier.

"Simon," you whisper, vision going blurry.

Soap's eyes shoot up to you, shocked that you know the Lieutenant's real name. He can't help but wonder what exactly would happen when Ghost would go on patrol alone. How many nights were spent with you if he's trusted you with his name.

Ghost grabs your hand in an instant, his eyes over yours.

"M'here, Mouse."

Your bottom lip quivers and tears streak down your temples into your hair.

"Tired... so tired," you whisper.

He shoots Soap a worried look then gives your hand another squeeze.

"I know, but you can't sleep yet, Mouse. We'll stop for a coffee on our way back to base, how's that sound?"

You frown, edges of your vision slowly going dark.

"Simon," you whisper once more, pushing your hand up to dust over his masked face.

Soap watches, eyes full of wonder as Ghost, the man who just murdered over a dozen people, is soft and gentle with you.

Your fingers smooth over his masked lips, and then your hand is tumbling down beside your head and your eyes are falling closed.

"No, none of that. Eyes on me, Mouse. On me."

You try, you really do, but you just need a moment to rest. That's all. Just one moment.

~*~

You're in and out of consciousness from that moment forward, finally fully coming to in a dimly lit room.

You're groggy and confused, blinking several times to get the fog clouding your vision to go away.

When things finally clear up, your heart jumps in your chest and you look around frantically.

This isn't familiar.

None of this is.

"Easy, Mouse. You're safe. M'here."

Except that.

Your eyes dart over to the source of the sound, finding those familiar piercing eyes.

Instinctively, you relax and reach for him, stopping with a hiss when something tugs at your arm.

"Easy, love," Ghost murmurs, reaching out and taking your hand in both of his.

Tears well up in your eyes and you look away from him, shaking your head.

"'S'alright, little one. M'here. Not goin' anywhere anytime soon."

It's true. He has no intention of leaving your side until you allow it. Something he has made explicitly clear to the members of his team.

You look up at him with big teary eyes and his icy heart cracks in his chest.

"Don't make me go. Not back to city, please," you beg quietly.

His gaze softens and he shakes his head, squeezing his eyes shut for a brief moment before tugging his mask up over his lips and leaning down to kiss your knuckles.

"You're not going back there. Not if I have any say in it."

Your breaths start coming in faster, more shallow, until you're hyperventalating, one hand grasping at the gown on your chest.

Everything is too much. Too constricting, too enclosed.

You can't breathe.

"Hey, hey! Eyes on me."

You obey, your eyes finding his once more, and he nods encouragingly.

He brings your hand to his chest, flattens it against the thin shirt, and you can feel his heart beating against your palm.

"I want you to breathe with me, Mouse. In... and out."

You slowly copy him, slowing your breathing to match his and keeping your hand against his warm chest the entire time.

Eventually, the feeling of his skin only one layer away is too distracting. You slide your fingers up to the small area of skin between his shirt and his balaclava, stroking it gently.

Your breath hitches at the feeling of his flesh against yours, and you lean toward him, desperate to feel more of him.

He leans forward and takes your other hand in his and you stare in awe, pressing your palm against his. His hands are rough, calloused and hardened, but they feel so good, so right against yours.

You slide your fingers up his forearm, tracing the scars, veins and tattoos while your other hand wraps around the back of his neck, slipping under the back of his balaclava and tangling into his hair.

"Simon," you whisper, tugging him closer by the nape of his neck.

He leans in, scarred lips tilting up in a soft smile at the sound of his name on your tongue.

He presses his forehead to yours, his eyes falling closed a moment after yours.

Carefully, he nudges his nose against yours, then tilts his head to slot his lips against yours.

You kiss him back softly, tugging away after a moment and drawing your brows together.

"What?" He asks softly, his free hand coming up to stroke your cheek.

"Where do I stay? Here?"

He shakes his head, pulling back a bit more after pressing one more kiss to your mouth.

"You'll stay with me. Unless you'd prefer your own room."

You're shaking your head before he's finished speaking, and he nods knowingly.

"Then you'll stay with me. We should only be here a few months longer. Then you can come home with me, if you'd like."

He'd be lying if he said he hasn't given much thought to the future. But after this? After nearly losing you before he truly got to have you? He's not willing to let you leave his side.

You only nod, eyes full of awe and adoration.

He gives you one more kiss, then gets up to get a med officer to check on you.

~*~

You spend a few days in the medical wing, and then, once you're given the go-ahead (under the ever-watchful eye of Ghost), you're changing into military-grade pants and a black t-shirt, and sitting patiently while Ghost laces up your boots.

"We match," you say proudly, beaming up at him when he rises to his full height.

He grins down at you through his mask, his eyes crinkling around the corners, and presses his forehead against yours sweetly.

"That we do, Mouse. Now, lets get you on your feet again."

He takes your hands and gently helps you to your feet, steadying you when you try to put weight onto your injured leg.

Your face screws up in pain, but you push through it, taking a few careful steps with his help.

"You sure you're ready?" He asks warily, watching you intently until you glare at him from the corner of your eye.

"Ready. Want to leave."

He nods, wrapping an arm around your waist and all but lifting you off the ground every time you try to step with your injured leg.

He leads you through the base, his glare sharp enough to have the onlookers scurrying out of sight.

Ever since he brought you back, bloody and wounded in his arms, you've been the talk of the base.

Who are you? Why does the Lieutenant like you so much? Can you be trusted?

That last question has plagued even some of his closest friends.

But as he helps you to the barracks, you lean further into him, you trust him at your most vulnerable, and he knows deep in his soul that you are someone he can trust.

Finally, after what feels like forever, he unlocks the door to his quarters and pushes it open.

The trek took far more energy than you'd like to admit, and you eagerly take a seat at the desk against the wall.

"You hungry?" He asks after a moment of silence, watching you as you look around curiously.

You nod, glancing up at him when he takes a step to the door.

"I'll be back in a minute. Try not to get into any trouble while I'm gone." He can't help but grin when you cross your arms over your chest.

Without another word, he exits the room, leaving you alone to explore.

You do exactly that, carefully taking in your surroundings.

There's a bed, a real bed, against the far wall. Across from that is a small wardrobe.

On the opposite side of the room is a door, and you find yourself limping over to it curiously.

You push it open and flick on the light, your eyes widening when you see the bathroom.

A proper bathroom, with running water that probably gets warm.

You turn the faucet on, watching in awe as it takes only a few moments for steam to start billowing. Your eyes follow the steam until they meet your own reflection in the mirror.

An audible gasp leaves your lips, and you lean forward, staring in a combination of disgust and horror.

You've seen your reflection since hiding out, but never quite so clearly.

The stitches at your hairline are crusted with blood, and you have bruises all over your face. Dark splotches that paint your skin in a way that makes your stomach churn.

How could Simon stand to look at you like this?

You splash some of the water on your face, hissing when it's a little bit too hot. Not a problem you thought you'd ever have.

Turning it down, you wait unti lit cools slightly to try and scrub your face clean, to make yourself more presentable for him, to look pretty.

No matter how hard you try, however, you can't clean the evidence of the torture from your face.

Hot tears streak down your cheeks and you turn your back on your reflection, angry that you ever dared to look at yourself.

At least before, you didn't know what you looked like. You didn't know what your Ghost had to look at, to touch, kiss.

"Mouse?"

You sniffle and wipe your cheeks quickly at the sound of his voice, opening the bathroom door a crack.

He takes one look at your face, at your red eyes and tear-stained cheeks, and he's pushing his way into the bathroom and inspecting you for injuries.

"What happened?"

You shake your head and tug on his balaclava gently.

"I want one."

His brows furrow and you can almost see the gears in his head trying to process what's going on.

"What?"

"Please. Want one... like Ghost."

He cups your cheek gently, big warm hand soothing your aching skin.

"Why? I like seeing your pretty face. Dont want you to cover it up if you don't need to."

This makes you tear up once more and you tug out of his grip, turning your back to him and hiding your face in your hands.

"Need to," you whisper thickly, "not pretty. Not now."

He's appalled by your words, stepping in front of you and gently pulling your hands away from your face.

"Where'd you get an idea like that?"

You sniffle and shake your head, avoiding his eyes.

"Broken... ugly..." Your eyes catch your reflection in the mirror and you glare at what you see, your bottom lip quivering as you try to hold back your tears.

A surprising rush of emotions floods him and he takes a few moments to breathe and steady himself.

He's not used to this whole softness thing. Not great at it, either.

"You think I'm ugly? I've got more bumps and bruises than you can count, little one. Scars, too. Does that make me ugly? Should I forever keep my face hidden from you?"

You frown up at him and shake your head quickly.

He could never be ugly, not to you.

"Then why are you any different? I see these," he strokes the mark on your cheek gently, "and it makes me want to protect you. It reminds me that you're fragile. Delicate. It makes me angry that someone would put their fucking hands on you, but thats it."

He pulls you into his arms and lays a few kisses on the top of your head.

"You're precious, Mouse. So very special, and so beautiful. M'more than happy to prove it to you if you don' believe me."

His voice drops a bit lower, as do his kisses, and you can't stop the smile that tugs at the corner of your mouth.

"There she is, there's my pretty girl," he whispers, kissing your lips briefly then pulling back once more.

"Now, you need to eat something and I need to debrief with Price. Rest while I'm gone, because you're not gonna be doing much sleeping when I get back."

[chocochiffonnn]

MEDDLE ABOUT

➸ Pairing: Tattoo artist Jake! x Reader

➸ Word Count: 23k

➸ Synopsis: In which the experience of your first heartbreak led you to the wonders of getting a tattoo. But surprise, surprise— the tattoo artist is hot. As in, mouth-watering hot. So you keep coming back for more— both the tattoo and the hot artist making it.

➸ Themes: Friends With Benefits, Porn With Plot (smut tags below) , Strangers To Fuck Buddies To Lovers.

➸ Warnings: Jake is IMPLIED to be a playboy, he's also gives mixed signals, BLONDE JAKE!! I REPEAT, BLONDE JAKE!! Lots of cursing

➸ Smut Tags: dirty bathroom intercourse, drunk sex, Jake is mouthy and loves babbling his mouth off, dom Jake, he LOVES praising, Jake is rough with his hand, squirting, fingering (f receiving), hand job, mouth job, making out, unprotected sex, teasing, cum dumping (or whatever).

➸ Author's Note: this took me forever to finish, life + school + work has been ROUGH! sorry for the wait guys! hope u enjoy reading this as much! also, this is my first smut don’t judge pls

➸ Taglist: @titttuaf @beomgyus11 @kristynaaah

NEEDLES WERE NOT MUCH OF YOUR STRONG SUIT— the mention of something pricking your skin bears chills down your spine, though quite figuratively. There was something so odd and intolerable about it.

Some people liked to assume and correlate one’s fashion with their personalities. Adorning one’s body with dark palettes and accessories automatically meant for some that it was practically a basic practice to be relishing the skin with hundreds of tattoos, or to be acting like a delinquent in the midst of the streets.

Not for you, though.

Needles creeped the fuck out of you.

You pricked yourself with it once, the moment still replayed in your head whenever it had the chance. Sometimes, even being the cause of such a nightmare.

You hated being pricked with something so sharp, literally.

Figuratively? It was even worse.

Experiencing your first heartbreak during the first day of the second semester was ass. Correction— is ass. The moment you entered the shared room of your apartment, craving the need of a long day’s rest after endless hours of classes and work, pins and needles came crashing down and pricking upon you like a voodoo doll.

Like the ones you used to play with at the ripe age of ten, poking through your dolls as you mumble the names’ of your enemies. Like the toys you used to thrash around whenever it was all sparkly, and pink, and pretty princess-sy.

You hated it.

You dreaded the feeling, walking up with heavy steps as you see your boyfriend of five years that certain October— Doyun, making out with your best friend, on the very same sheets you cleaned. The very same pillows you fluffed, the very same room you’d design alongside him.

They felt like needles.

Thousands and thousands of it.

And it hurt like shit.

You’d left that very same room after a much deserved slap to both their faces, claiming, hoping you never see the two of them again. Fate had other plans, but at least, it was enough on your end. It was too much.

And months later, you find yourself laying down at that very same room, the space feeling empty and dull without the shared laughs and moments with your cheater of a boyfriend. Your phone clutched in your hand, scrolling through the ceaseless Pinterest inspirations of your feed, going as far as creating a board for it, labeled:

Tattoo inspos.

Needles were fucking ass, but what the fuck about it?

“Maybe this one will look good…”

It was a small sword, embedded with a sort of crisp fabric around it.

“Too tacky.” You say, scrolling through another inspiration. A skull tattoo, with wings adorning the back of it— freedom and death? “Too emo.”

You frown, clearly, there was no visible tattoo thus far to catch your attention. Feeling a bit dejected and worried, you scrolled a bit farther down the app in order to find something, anything, before you had the chance to change your mind and wuss out.

Then you notice it— a dime sized butterfly tattoo, black in color, melting in ink. It was like drawing with a gel pen on a random piece of paper, then smudging that pen to achieve a blurry effect. Except this one, except of a smudge, the butterfly looked like it was melting.

It immediately caught your attention,

“Perfect.”

~~~~~~

You really just hoped there was no shady business going down here.

Contrary to well-received reviews on their service, you must say— the place definitely looks suspicious and odd. Located beneath a train station with uneventful sights and not necessarily the most aesthetically pleasing background, safe to say you are more or less suspicious.

Tats.

The little sign above the room sparkled, the room itself was clean, decored in black and white, perfectly matching your vibe. With but prayers on your side, you entered and soon find out that contrary to what you’ve been assuming, this place does seem sterile and clean. At least… More so than the outside.

Someone greets you upon entering, a small woman who had tattoos from her arm up to her neck. He her hair was auburn, she had freckles painting her face like it was also a tattoo. From the counter, she smiles, “Welcome to tats. Walk in?”

You nod, “Yes, if that’s okay.”

The woman turns her head, grabbing some sort of paper for you to fill in your personal information. It was rather cold, and from your peripheral, you can see the stationed little booths that perhaps each tattoo artist resided and do their work in. Your hands felt rather clammy as you reached the end part of the paper, it felt like you were going to throw up, seriously.

“Alright! There’s an available artist right now, would you like to have yours done straight away?”

You nod, she smiles. “The only problem is it’s a man so… If that’s okay with you?”

“It’s okay, I’m not getting a tattoo done up my ass.” You quip, the auburn woman geniunely laughs at your joke, mumbling an ‘okay’ as she gestures to one of the nearby booths. Taking it upon herself, she exits the counter and leads you to where she’s been pointing at. “Sim Jaeyun?”

The receiving end was silent.

The woman sighs, grabbing the curtains and haphazardly opening the stall. “Jake!”

Oh no.

“What? Stop nagging.”

Sim Jaeyun— or so she calls him, rubs the back of his blonde hair as he lifted himself up from the tattoo chair, he looked like he’d just gotten out from a nap.

He’s hot.

As in— chiseled by the gods and goddesses type of hot. Like, what in the actual fuck type of hot.

“You’re sleeping again? I can’t believe you.”

Sim Jaeyun laughs sheepishly, “Sorry, sorry.”

Oh fucking no.

You visibly winced as you feel yourself checking him out. Dressed in all black, his neck up to his ears were adorned with necklaces and accessories that had you going feral.

He is exactly your type, the very epitome of you. Only difference is that he’s a man.

“Who are we getting done today?” He asks, the rasp in his voice visible as he attempts to regain consciousness. Complete Australian accent. Hot. Sexy. What the fuck?

“This is Y/N. She’ll tell you the design she wants,” The woman turns to you, “This one’s Jake, he’ll be the one to tattoo you.”

You nod. You had to retract what you said a couple of minutes prior. Maybe you just had to get a tattoo done up your ass.

“He looks like he may bite, and he actually does—” Jake cuts him off, “Yah!”

“But he’s a pretty talented artist so you’ll get your money’s worth. Just be careful, though.” The auburn woman laughs, pointing a finger towards a Jake who was visibly pouting as he arranged some of the equipment needed. “She might not end up getting a tattoo from me anymore.”

You grin, “I’ll see your skills for myself.”

“Oh?” Jake turns around, leaning against the table as he pulled the latex glove fit on his hand. “Gladly.” He smiles, you can feel him visibly stare you down. The way his eyes lingered from your head down to your feet. At this point, the auburn woman had already left to tend to another client and it was just you and him alone.

He doesn’t speak, doesn’t utter a word. He just blatantly stares. Hardly being subtle about it, and being all the more obvious. Was he checking you out?

“You can sit down now.” He says with a shrug, eyes still glued to you. You nod, knowing his burning gaze pierced through you. It made you all the more excited and thrilled. Usually, things like this weren’t one for the books given your pitiful relationship months prior.

But nobody ever plays things by the books now, everybody wants to have a little edge— to think outside of the box.

“So, Y/N.” Jake starts, holding the head of the chair as he hovers above you, “What tattoo am I making for you today?”

You shrug, pointing towards the spot just below your collarbone. “I want a butterfly.”

You notice how Jake pauses, stifling in a laugh. He turns his head to the side as his broad shoulders vibrate a bit. “What?” you ask him, not quite getting the reason as to why he’s laughing. Were butterflies outdated now?

“You don’t want one that covers the whole arm? Maybe a back tattoo?”

You physically shiver, shaking your head as a response. “Hell no. I’d appreciate it if I don’t die at my first tattoo appointment.”

Jake raised a brow, “your first time?”

Nodding, you rub your below to calm down your nerves. “Why?”

“What do you mean why?” You feigned offence, Jake laughs. “No, sorry, I don’t mean it that way. It’s just that— you do look like someone who gets tattoos pretty often.”

You shrug, “So people say. Is it because of the way I dress? I also get told I’m brazen.”

Jake grabs some of his tools, the gun, needles, ink— whatever it was that was to be pricked upon your skin. You find the way he sets it up to be so distracting, men who know what the hell they’re doing has you going feral.

Paired with the nerves and the jitters of that thing, and the idea that you were actually getting a tattoo?

Any second and you might actually pass out now.

“Maybe both, I mean you do look tough.”

“Am I not?” You quip, Jake shook his head with a smirk. “Someone who gets chicken skin from needles isn’t necessarily the most toughest person out there.”

“Hey!” You counter, rolling your eyes. “We all have our own fears. Mine just happened to be needles.”

“Valid.” Jake snorts, holding the tattoo gun with his right as he sat down on one of the chairs, spreading his legs for balance. “Can I see your reference?”

You nod, pulling out your phone to show him the specific post from interest you saw last night. Jake takes a long look at it before he nods, “are you ready?”

“No.” You say honestly, holding in a breath. Sim Jaeyun smirks, fingertips brushing across your piercing collarbone. His clad fingers were cold to the touch, yet at the same time, it electrified a part of you. “I thought I’d show you some of my skills?” He whispers low.

You whisper back in response, though force and strained, “I’m not sure I’m the person to be testing that out on!”

“Shh,” He cooes, “Just relax. It won’t hurt.”

“I really hope it doesn’t.” You hold in a breath as Jake’s precise needle came into contact with your supple skin. It felt way less worse than what you’d dreamed about, what you thought about. Like being bitten by an ant, thousands and thousands of it.

From the corner of your eyes, Sim Jaeyun’s focus was unmatched. He bit the bottom of his lip, his head unimaginebly close to your shoulder. God, he smelled divine. He had his undivided focused locked on the piece of art, hands precise and delicate as it poked the ink through your skin. Strands of his blonde hair collided wit your shoulder, making you shiver all the more.

Minutes pass with Jake’s unnerved focus on your skin. Once he was done, you feel him pull back, his face unreadable. It was rather awkward on your part, eyes straying anywhere but his hair. The paintings on his wall, the equipment on his desk— anywhere but him.

“Do you want me to fill it in?” He asks, gaze boring into yours. For a moment, you forgot how to breath as you responded, “No, it’s um. It’s fine that way! Looks perfect.”

He nods, standing up from his chair and turning towards his equipment. He fixed his stuff as he spoke, “It’s best if you avoid submerging it in water for a little while. Scratching, exposure to sun, tight clothing— you know, the things any sane person would not do with a fresh tattoo.”

You nod as Jake turns towards you, handing you a piece of something from his pocket. It was a small card, with not the place’s number, but his number on it. It looked professionally made. “You hand these out to everyone?”

Jake smirks, shaking his head. “Only to those I want to send ‘em out to.”

“Oh,” You laugh, “Should I be thanking you or what?”

Jake shook his head, shrugging, “Up to you.”

You nod, perhaps slightly getting the hint of his words, the fire you were playing, and more or less, the danger this thing resided in. The danger he resides in.

“I’ll take note of that.”

“You really should,” He smiles, “I have a feeling I’ll see you around more often.”

~~~~~~

Needless to say, the urge to keep coming back for more proved to be compelling enough. You woke up that morning with a banging headache and an immense amount of urge to scratch your newly-placed tattoo.

A headache didn’t matter, the moment you woke up, it felt like all you wanted to do was go back and have your skin imprinted with another piece of ink.

Or perhaps to go back and have Sim Jaeyun’s touch somewhere else. Up your ass, maybe?

Last night, however you were immediately hit with the unfortunate announcement of an exam. With not much time to think or even let your fingertips touch Jake’s given card, you had immediately stayed the night up studying for the written exam. But you thought about it the entire time— Sim Jaeyun’s lingering touch.

Damn, does he know the effect he has on people?

Procastinating and being under time pressure worked wonders.

Waking up late twenty minutes before the said exam also worked wonders, and you find yourself scurrying around your apartment the following morning as you settle for whatever clothes and stuff you had in display to bring.

Walking along the campus of your university in a rush with a cup of coffee in hand, you rushed towards the exam site in hopes of making it in time. Then, you stumble upon something that had your eyes intrigued. You pause momentarily, gazing upon the small poster that stuck itself onto your department’s floor.

The poster of Jake’s tattoo shop. Not his tattoo shop, but the place he worked at. It offered a promo for this month, a free tattoo for one person as long as the latter was paying.

And you think for a few seconds about it until eventually, an idea popped into your head.

You had just the right person in mind.

~~~~~~

The routines that followed the rest of that day remained subtle. Classes in the morning, work in the afternoon. Until eventually, afternoon came down and you’d decided to make the eventful choice of getting another mark.

“You got a tattoo and didn’t think to even tell me?!” Lee Heeseung, one of your co-workers said dramatically. You worked at a particulary run down CD shop that had the vibes of something from the 90’s, but what you sold was only part of it.

CD’s of music ranging from classical genres to newer ones, even limited editions that artists had either cancelled or no longer sold. In the art of music, there wasn’t really anyone better than Lee Heeseung for the job. He had not only the place memorized, but also the music and its soul in general.

Not to mention, he was the attention and the focus of the customers who dropped by here. The apple of everyone’s eye— also part of the reason why this place hadn’t shut down yet. No one ever really buys CD’s anymore, yet what some fail to notice is that music is always timely— regardless of what age you lived in. Or so, Heeseung always liked to ramble on about like a philosopher.

“Come on, Hee! It’ll be like— fun.” You say the last part flatly as you fix a particular stack of CDs. It wasn’t particularly fun or satisfying on your part. Heeseung looks at you suspiciously, mouth twitched upward, looking utterly disgusted. “You are fucking scared of needles, am I supposed to believe that?”

“Uh— Yes? Cause its literally coming from me. Look,” You drop a particular CD, inching Heeseung’s finger and unveiling a part of your collarbone. “I got a small butterfly.”

Heeseung stares at it long and hard before he choked in a laugh. “Are you sure that isn’t like made with a pen or something?” his fingers attempted to brush against the mark, only for you to pull back swiftly, glaring at him intently. “Don’t touch it! It’s healing.”

Heeseung was laughing at this point, clutching his stomach as he struggled to speak, “And there I thought you got your whole arm tattooed or something!”

You pout, “I wouldn’t do that for my first tattoo! That’s like a one-way ticket to hell.”

He shrugs, “fair point, still no.”

“Come on Hee!” At this point, you were shaking Heeseung’s shoulders around, jumping up and down as you coaxed him to getting a tattoo with you. Contrary to public opinion, Heeseung was not such a big fan of tattoos, claiming he doesn’t like putting such marks on his body. But it doesn’t hurt to try, especially since you kind of know the way to Heeseung’s mind.

“You can get a CD tattoo, or an ipod, maybe a quote from a song you like the most?” You suggested with a sweet voice. Heeseung looked at you, unconvinced. Yet, his eyes were a bit more gentle and less tense than last time. Oh, you were so getting him.

“I’m paying for the tattoo, you just have to show up! It doesn’t matter if it’s small, it’s free anyways. So just accompany me— please?”

“What if I get a dick tattooed on my back, like a huge one?”

“Well— that’s your choice. Nobody’s stopping you.” Heeseung rolls eyes, “Fine, until when’s the promo?”

You grin, “Tonight.”

~~~~~~

The shop closed at 5PM with you and Heeseung traveling to the same alley you got your tattoo at, the suspicious corners and parts of town.

The sole idea of Heeseung getting a tattoo— you try and sweet talk him— is absolutely a very smart move. Girls would consider him more attractive, more customers would flock in, the sales would increase, and eventually, everyone would be happy!

“If this thing gets infected, I’m totally blaming you.”

“I’m not holding you back, I’m scared mine will get infected too.”

“You’re planning my demise, aren’t you?”

“How’d you figure out so easily?”

“You’re literally the type.”

You laugh, brushing Heeseung off. Eventually, you were met with a rather pungent smell of some dog shit as you walked along the alley. “You’re definitely planning to kill me, what the heck is this place?” Heeseung asks, disgusted as he held his nostrils with his fingers.

“I know,” You say, covering your own nose, “Trust me though, the place isn’t dirty.”

“I sure would hope not cause I’m bolting the moment you leave me here.”

Eventually, you were met with the black doors of the tattoo studio, the neon lights of the name lighting up just above— Tatts.

“Tatts? That’s exuding some immense aura.”

“I know right.”

You enter the stall with much anticipation, you hadn’t even thought about what tattoo to get next, only adamant on being here. Which is weird, you’ve never had such a stronger urge to be somewhere so fast. Like some magnet was pulling you in.

You were greeted with the same auburn woman— who you learned was named Kaiza, who entertained you during your first session. She recognized your presence, immediately smiling once she saw you, smiling even wider when she saw the person you were with.

“Y/N! Came to get your second tattoo?”

You nod sheepishly, “Yes. Is your promo still on?”

“You are currently,” she checks her watch, “lucky, because the promo ends in an hour.”

You turn to Heeseung, mumbling an ‘I told you so’ and he simply sticks his tongue out. “Are you getting a tattoo, too?” Kaiza turns towards Heeseung who nods his head, showing one of his captivating smiles. Weirdo.

“Yes, I’m with her.”

Kaiza grabs a piece of information paper, handing it towards Heeseung, he filled it in. Meanwhile, you looked around the familiar the room. Still the same as you last left two days ago. Dark, well lit, and very much gave the vibes of a tattoo studio.

Heeseung finished filling his paper up, Kaiza leads the two of you to the stalls. You hoped, you really hoped—

“Sim Jaeyun is here today, would you like to get your tattoo done by him?”

“Yes! I mean— yeah, yeah, that’d be chill.”

You can sense the way Kaiza’s face contort into that of mischief, Heeseung remains oblivious to the way you so eagerly give way to such a statement. He was too busy admiring the room, and ultimately, Kaiza.

You can’t blame him, the auburn woman is sure as hell attractive.

“There are two other people here who can do your tattoo, Heeseung.”

“Do you do tattoos?”

“Me? Yes… Why?”

“Can you do mine?”

Damn!

You swiftly look at Heeseung with a smug look, nudging him ever so slightly with your elbow and wiggling around. Heeseung knows what you’re implying, and he chooses to ignore your little antics and teasing, opting to shoot his shot instead.

You feel Kaiza laugh, “Hmm. Do you want me to?”

Heeseung shrugs, “I’d want my first tattoo to be memorable.”

Oh you had to give it to him. If there was ever a time where it rained of cockiness and confidence in flirting— perhaps Heeseung was there, with his arms wide open, catching every single drop. Kaiza bites into his oblivious flirting as she drops you off to Sim Jaeyun’s corner.

She opens the curtain, only to find the man, once again, splayed out nonchalantly in the tattoo chair. His black clothes blended in a bit with the chair, aside from part of his arms, shoulder, and head. He quite literally just wore a tank-top, exposing his muscular arms which surprisingly, had no tattoos.

“Jake, Y/N’s back.”

“Oh, really?” This time, Jake wasn’t

napping. Rather, he was playing a random game on his phone, eyes focused on tapping the screen. Once he heard your name roll off Kaiza’s tongue, he closed his phone and threw it to the side. Jake ruffled his hair, looking at you with quite an unreadable look. “I’m guessing showing my skills worked?” He quipped, you rolled your eyes, “Shut up, I have a growing interest for tattoos now.”

Kaiza and Heeseung bid goodbye, with the latter harshly patting your back and mumbling a short, ‘this the dude? pretty valid.’

Despite the fact that you hardly told Heeseung anything, he just somehow seemed to know. But you can tell he wasn’t really here to scold, with the way he followed the auburn woman around to get his, “tattoo.”

“What are we getting this time? Don’t tell me its an ant now.” Jake stands from the chair, going over to his equipment. “I haven’t really thought about it honestly.”

“Oh?” Jake stops momentarily, turning around to look at you. “Don’t tell me you’re doing this for fun.”

“Maybe I am doing this for fun.”

He leans back in his desk, arms crossed. ”You probably just came over to see me again.”

Dead serious, you looked at him straight in the eye and responded, “Yeah, that’s actually the reason why.”

Part of Jake’s blonde hair covered his left eye, the other low yet unnerved towards your body language. You felt a little clammy and small under his gaze, but you kept yourself still and grounded even with the way he strips you bare with his gaze alone. That same look he used the first time he saw you, the first time you spoke. Then, Jake laughs.

“You weren’t lying when you said you’re bold and brazen.”

You shrug, “Can you blame me? You’re like—” pointing towards him, “that.”

He leans his head to the side, an amused look on his features. ”Like what?”

“Like an absolute meal.” You say, as if it wasn’t the most obvious thing ever. Jake laughs, twisting his head to the side. “You find me that attractive?”

“Just alright.” You had to somewhat humble him. Jake does his usual routine of setting his equipment up, until he was already sitting beside you and you layed down the chair. “Where’s your next tattoo gonna be?”

You think about it for a moment. Though you’ve no particular interest as to what design you wanna do, there is a specific place your mind desires for his craft.

“Beneath my chest, ribcage.”

“Y/N, are you serious?” Jake deadpans, pulling his gun back. You nod, “Dead serious. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You know that’s like, one of the most painful places to get a tattoo at?”

“I’m well aware.”

“So you’re fully aware of the consequence this may bring, yes?”

You shook your head. You know it’s going to hurt, but how bad it’s going to hurt, you absolutely did not know. “It’s probably going to hurt like hell.”

“It’s going to hurt more like hell,” Jake clarified, “What design are we doing?”

“I don’t know, you tell me."

“I’ll tell you?” Jake feigns amusement, he was surprised. Usually, when people come in to get their tattoos done, they already have something in mind. “What do you mean I’ll tell you?”

“I don’t really know what tattoo I want, you got any suggestions?”

He can put a piece of dick or shit on your ribcage for all you care and you would absolutely thank him for it. Jake thinks about it for a moment, leaning back against his chair, “are you letting me decide your tattoo right now?”

“Yes, it’s why I’m asking you.”

“Are you sure? You may not want to trust me with something like that.” He leans forward, fingers pointing towards your black shirt. Taking the hint, you lift the hem of the fabric, exposing part of your stomach and ultimately, the part just beneath your bra. Jake stares, inching his hand towards the spot effortlessly, as if he’s done this hundreds of times before. And he probably has for the most part.

His cold touch sent electric shivers down your spine as your ribcage felt the sensation of his crisp fingers. “What have you been into these days?” Jake asks.

“What specific category are we looking for here?”

“Nothing in specific, just…” He shrugs, “anything general you’ve been obsessed with?”

“Tattoos maybe?” He laughs, “just that?”

“Well, I’m a med-student so probably any thing related to that.”

In your eyes, perhaps Jake thought of you as a colorless book, someone who sought out the adventures of being bad because you always bury your noses in those textbooks. Like a nerd or something, like most people would assume for such students.

“A med-student? Really?” He asks, with a surprising interested glint in his eyes. You nod, “I know, might seem boring but—”

He quickly intervenes, “no, no. I mean, you’re out there what? Training to save lives? That’s so fucking cool.”

“You think of that as cool?” You ask, surprised. Jake nods like a little puppy, the tousle of his hair straightening along as he agrees. “That’s the most overbearing course you could possibly take.”

“It gets me overstimulated all the damn time so pretty understandable.”

Jake laughs, “so like, a stethoscope or something?”

You shook your head swiftly, “Oh, hell no!” As much as you somewhat appreciated your course, never in your life would you leave remnants of such in your body. Simply traumatizing, too traumatizing.

“Think of something that represents you as a whole, Y/N.”

Something that represents you as a whole…

“I can’t think of anything.”

“If that’s the case, do you trust me enough?”

You nod almost too quickly. “I do.” Jake laughs, the corners of his face tugging along into an expression of mischief. Never in his career has he tattooed someone who doesn’t precisely know what they want. Usually, something like this would require decisions. And for you to throw that choice out the window for him?

Jake felt his pride begin to swell up.

“Do you go to college, Jake?” You ask amidst the silence as Jake nears your ribcage. He nods, “Surprised? I go to the same campus as you.”

If anything, you were the one surprised. “Really? What course are you taking?”

“Applied Physics. I’m a bit of a nerd when it comes to that.”

Oh. You definitely did not peg Jake as someone who is into anything Science. You can see the way part of his face turned slightly sheepish, yet the jolt of pain in your ribcage came following along straight after. You winced, “oh shit, you weren’t lying when you said it’d hurt.”

“I told you.” Jake mumbles, feeling you wiggle slightly. His other hand which stabilized itself onto your ribcage settled just around your waist, attempting to keep you still. “Don’t move around, stay still, yeah?”

“Sorry…” You mumbled, wincing as he poked the gun and the ink into your skin. You don’t know what he was doing down there, but for the most part, you kind of trusted him. “I didn’t think you’d be the— shit,” you bit your lip as another jolt of pain came pushing through, “type of person to be interested in courses like those.”

“So people would say. I’ll brag, I’m pretty good at what I do.”

“You look like you’re good at everything.” You quip, rolling your eyes as Jake laughs along. It was a subtle conversation of asking each other one’s interest, hobbies, things in life, and things that may spark some interest between the two of you.

Eventually, you learned that Jake was currently on the second year of his course. A total physics nerd, with the way he randomly inserts some of his knowledge of his topics over to you. Jake also was quite the opposite of what most people would assume someone working in a tattoo shop would be like.

He’s gentle, he loves dogs, he’s always been rather crafty, he enjoys dancing. But one certain assumption that sits just right for his entire image?

Sim Jaeyun is a playboy at heart.

A big ass fucking playboy and heartthrob.

Sounds like a cliché statement to say the least, like something from a 2000’s romcom, but his stories were testimonies enough that indeed— Sim Jaeyun loved to meddle around.

You asked him how many girlfriends he’s had for the past year (choosing to be a little brave), to which he said none, because he said he absolutely hated committing but wouldn’t mind the thrill of just one night stands.

You asked him if he’s ever been to a bar or a club before and he’s been to plenty.

The tattoo itself eventually finishes after what felt like forever, Jake was intent on his work, every detail, precise and accurate. And once he was done, he pulls back and lets you judge the moment for yourself. The skin had reddened just a tiny bit, fingers came to graze along the spot just near the tattoo.

The tattoo extended from the bottom of your ribcage down to the curve of your hips. “I hope you don’t mind, but this one doesn’t really have a specific meaning. Just something that I think would suit your whole vibe.”

You stare at it, long and hard. In absolute awe of what Sim Jaeyun was capable of doing. “You really know what you’re doing…” you mumble as you stare at yourself in the mirror. Jake laughed as he cleaned up the rest of his stuff, “Don’t say that.”

“Why?”

“It swells my pride up, you know.”

He meant it as a joke, but perhaps Sim Jaeyun truly lived by the compliments he gets on his work. You smile, “but you are good.”

“You’ve thought about it?”

“Hmm? About what?” You were still gawking over your tattoo. “The card. My number.”

“Oh?“ Your face turns into that of mischief, “I thought that was purely for business, Sim Jaeyun. I didn’t know you wanted me to get your number.”

“And here I thought I made it pretty clear.”

You laugh, “I’m just kidding, I’ve been so busy I haven’t gotten time to go over it.” Jake crossed his arms, tilting his head to the side as he eyed you, the same mischievous look on his face. “Am I blatantly being rejected right now?”

You shrug, “Gotta think about it, you know?” But you know there was nothing really to think about it. The clear answer: absolutely yes.

“You’re a bit difficult.” He mumbles, inching closer ever so slightly. He stood in front of you, his chest and arms flexing unintentionally. Going to the gym must also be one of his habits because– damn. “It’s not anything new.”

Jake smirks, “And yet you’re interested?”

You’d forgotten all about your tattoo at this point, shamelessly exposing yourself as you check him out. How could you not? He always looked attractive, smelled good, you bet he’d probably feel good too.

God, you know the consequences this would entail, yet you’re jumping in anyways. “I am interested, Sim Jaeyun.”

Jake chuckles, “You’re cute.”

You bit back a, “I’m quite well aware.”

He leans down, head coming face to face with yours. Surprised, you retracted your head away. Jake was suddenly being bold now, closing the distance between the two of you. But from this angle, you can see the sharpness of his features more clearly. The slight slit on his right brow, the tip of his nose, his long lashes.

He felt even more handsome and attractive up close.

“And a bit bratty too.”

Shrugging, you level his boldness and cross your arms as you inched your head a bit closer, “So they say.”

“Just my type.” Jake’s fingers brushed against your chin, keeping it in place. He lifted your head slightly, eyes glued over to the way you wet your tongue. There was this tension gnawing away in the air, as if mumbling— who’s going to break it first?

And Sim Jaeyun’s eyes were tempting you in the most oddest way possible. But he wasn’t doing anything but edging and dragging this out, so why should you make such moves?

It goes on for a while, the endless suffering of trying to keep your cool, until Jake eventually breaks the ice, “You’re really just my type, you know?”

It swells your pride a bit, despite the gut feeling in your stomach telling you he’s pulled this certain script hundreds of times before. “How many times have you said this to other girls?”

Jake pursed his lips, “does it really matter?”

And you think about it for a moment— your entire situation with him. You know you’ve been playing with fire the entire time, adding fuel and gasoline each time you come here and flaunt your presence like some sort of prize. “No, it doesn’t. I’m just curious.”

“To answer your question, Y/N—” He diverts his touch away from your chin, “You’re the first one I’ve used this script on.”

~~~~~~

Heeseung left the booth with not a tattoo, but with a huge kiss mark on his left collar.

Oh, and his right collar, his neck, his— everywhere. You can faintly see the poor attempt at trying to brush and clean it off, but Kaiza painted her lips a enticing crimson red— that same color on the said man’s existence.

He looks at you with a smug grin, “I can’t thank you enough for bringing me here.”

“Did you really get a tattoo? Or did you just get laid?” You teased Heeseung, nudging him. He shook his head, “I got one at the back my neck, look.”

He shows you the colorful mark on the nape of his neck— a tiny music note, noticeable but not so much with a collar on. “It looks sick, you are absolutely welcome.”

“I may have gotten a bit of her lips, too.”

You roll your eyes, “Heeseung, I don’t really think you got just a bit?”

Heeseung laughs, opting not to answer your own question and leave you to wonder on your own. It didn’t matter for you, though. You had your own matters to ponder about.

You must be crazy.

Jake must be crazy.

But he was even more crazier, because how the fuck was it even possible for a human to kiss and makeout that good?

“I think I need a fucking drink.” Heeseung drags along as the two of you exited the shop with less enthusiam, putting his arm around your shoulder. “You literally told me you don’t drink, Hee.”

“That changes today, this calls for a celebration!”

You laugh, “a celebration for what? Getting your first kiss?”

Heeseung rolled his eyes, sharing a frown. “I’ll have you know, that was not my first kiss.”

“Yeah, yeah.” You weren’t really having it, though. As far as you know, Heeseung’s lips were as virgin as the color white. He loved flirting, but he never really went to the point of actually kissing somebody.

“Middle school kiss is not considered, though.”

”Well fuck— then that was my first kiss.” He feigns defeat, throwing his arms in the air. You snort in response, “absolute amateur, and yeah, I’m down for a drink.”

“Heck yeah! See? You’d agree in the end anyways.”

“Only beause I need it too.

And you really do.

“Perfect. Same time, same club later. Wear something nicer.” Heeseung removes his arm from your shoulder, shrugging his. It was a bit of a routine, really. Clubbing, partying— since the unfortunate incident of your breakup, the idea of having fun hadn’t really crossed your mind for a few weeks due to keeping yourself cooped up in your room.

That was until, Heeseung introduced you to drinking and releasing your problems away in a certain club you now frequented. A dangerous and tempting hobby to wallow in, but hey, you’re still a pretty well maintained pre-med student with complete control over your identity.

So, it didn’t hurt that you you indulge yourself in the manner every once in a while.

Always with a guy, and always with Heeseung, that is.

“Are you telling me I look ugly in what I’m wearing right now?” it doesn’t take a second before Heeseung was snorting and patting your back harshly, enough to have you fling over and lose your balance.

“Don’t pull me with that shit, you know what I mean.”

“Whatever.”

And you know that Heeseung entirely meant going wasted tonight and getting laid.

~~~~~~

Contrary to what most people would assume about medical students— you are a bit of a troublemaker yourself.

Buried beneath textbooks of foundational sciences highlighted only five days of your week. For the remaining two days? You absolutely relished on going full out. Not so much as to drink liters of alcohol every weekend, but exploring wild things had grown to be a hobby of yours after your relationship ended.

Right now, it seemed the end of the week greeted you with clubbing and wasting away.

“Stay close to me as usual unless you like— double, triple check the dude, okay?”

This was one of Heeseung’s usual routines, keeping you in line and making sure you don’t get yourself into a little trouble. You nod as usual, grateful for the concern as you felt you might need it. With the way you dressed and exposed more than a half of your bare skin, perhaps hands were definitely going places towards your figure.

Heeseung and you enter after the bouncer checked your IDs, and you were immediately met with the booming music of Rihanna’s— We Found Love— coming in full volume.

“Perfect timing!” You shout to Heeseung’s ear, and he grins, responding, “Let’s get drinks first!”

The two of you entered through the mixed bodies and sweat, absolutely in love with the way everything just seemed to unveil and ungrasp here. No professors screaming at your ear, no missed deadlines, no piles of homework due the following day. This, was the life. The fucking paradise, really.

After much mingling with random strangers, you eventually reach the counter filled with alcohol, a random bartender shaking away the order of another. “What’re you getting?” Heeseung asks you through the loud noise, “Daiquiri!” You respond back.

Heeseung chuckles, “Feeling the summer spirit, ‘aye?!” copying the accent of a British man. You smacked him in the arm, “Shut up!”

Heeseung nears the bartender, claiming a drink of his own. He hands you your own drink, and you down it with much enthusiam, the cold sensation of the citrusy alcohol rushing through your throat and making shivers run down your spine. At this point, you sat at one of the high stools as Heeseung stood in front of you, relishing his old fashioned whiskey cocktail— like an old man.

”Gonna need like a few more drinks to have my feet jumping around.” Heeseung admits, you nod along. It isn’t necessarily fun doing anything sober, when you can be a little tipsy and on edge. Finishing the first drink with much ease, you soon followed by ordering a different beverage from the bartender. And another Daiquiri, and another, and another.

It was a process of going back in forth for drinks, with Heeseung somewhat forgetting his starement from earlier and drifting off to— well, god knows where, probably swaying his hips along to the music in the middle of the stage. You hadn’t mind though, enjoying a bit of the company you provided yourself, relishing the way you looked— the way you felt tonight.

Strangely enough, you felt odd. Not in a unfortunate sort of odd, but certainly a feeling that sent your senses in a bit of alert. You can’t help but feel that someone was watching you, taking in the way you sip your drink, or the way you cross your legs.

You scan your eyes across the room, squinting through the radiant party lights and trying your best to make do. You were, perhaps, just feeling a bit paranoid.

Shrugging, you chose to brush the feeling off, heading straight to the dance floor to get your mind away from whatever that was. The groove of the music made it easy for you to occupy your riddled mind, swaying your hips along the tune of the music and raising your arms up in the air. Yeah, that tattoo on your collarbone and ribcage definitely made you feel times sexier and more… Untamed?

“Careful there.” A voice chimed in, gripping you by the waist in an attempt to balance your figure. You mumble an apology back, though not really a hundred percent sorry, and grinding your behind on the random stranger instead. As in— full on grinding and rubbing it against their pelvis.

You were even giggling, repeating your apology a couple of times beneath your breath, but your body swaying around proved otherwise.

“Are you comfortable shaking your ass on random strangers?” The said voice whispered on your ear— all too familiar and recognizable on your part. You shrug your shoulders, shouting, “It’s a club! Let loose a little.”

And let loose you did, letting your body fall along the rhythm, disregarding the fact that a pair of arms were most likely on you. It goes on for a little while, the music changing for a little while and you danced around. One thing remained certain, that grip never left you at all.

Feeling rather curious and perhaps a bit annoyed as to why someone could be so possibly clingy in a club, you turn around and discovered the reason why.

Oh. Yeah.

You were glad you turned around.

Because what in the fucking parallel universe or plot is this? Discovering it had been Sim Jaeyun’s strong grip of arms keeping you close was one thing, seeing him this fucked out and wasted? It was another thing completely.

It looked like the alcohol consumed him partly, evident on the way his cheeks flushed and his hair felt like it had been raked way too many times. Time had gone slow motion for a bit, with Jake’s piercing eyes treading holes through yours— those same ass eyes he used during your first and second tattoo session, only this time, it seemed or felt like all control was gone.

Is it really?

That’s why the strong scent of something was familiar, that’s why there was this feeling that someone’s eyes were glued to you the entire time.

But Jake doesn’t speak, neither does he move. And when he sees he’s been discovered, he merely grins and nears your ear to whisper, “You wanna fuck?”

And your response?

“God, I’d love to.”

~~~~~~

Sim Jaeyun is anything but patient.

Frankly speaking, the moment he laid his eyes on you at the bar, all sense of self-control had dissipated and gone through the roof.

How was he supposed to control himself when he saw your skirt raked up exposing the curve of your ass? How was he supposed to remain calm when you were grinding that ass on him like it was your last dance?

God, if anything, you were lucky he opted not to tackle you the moment you entered that dance floor, swaying your hips around feeling all needy for attention. Sim Jaeyun hardly goes to the middle, deeming it as too crowded and overstimulating, but hell— the moment your heels clicked and took a step forward, he just knew he had to keep you close to him.

Partly because he doesn’t want any other creeps getting to you, and also because he really is fucking thirsty and hungry, too.

So when the small of your back harshly hits the bathroom wall, you don’t argue. When Sim Jaeyun’s lips crashed onto your neck, breathing and inhaling you in— you don’t argue.

Holy fuck. This was an entirely different scenario from days before.

“Nice to see you again, too.” you mumble through heaved breaths, Jake’s lips marking kisses all over your neck. He rakes a hand through your head, groaning as he did so. “Mmh. That was fucking torture.”

You laugh, “I didn’t know that person I was dancing on was you. What did you drink tonight?”

But if you were being honest?

You felt it was him.

It seemed Jake felt that too, parting from your neck for a moment to ghost his lips over yours, “really? Hmmm… Boulevardier.”

Oh, so that’s why.

And he gives you a gentle peck on the lips— like a lover’s kiss. He doesn’t dwell on it long though, resuming his business down your neck. “Can I touch you?” Jake asks for permission, as if he wasn’t already doing that by keeping both of your hands still up your head.

You giggle, feeling him bite down the sensitive skin. He absolutely reeked of alcohol, but Jake’s sense of control and stability was insane. “Been wanting to touch you the moment you got that fucking tattoo.” He admits truthfully, sneaking his other hand down your trembling legs.

It was hard to bite back a moan, to filter out your reaction, yet you pull yourself back, letting Jake do all the talking for now. “You know how sexy you looked in this dress?”

His fingers fully slips in, grazing the hem of your panties. Fuck. “How badly I wanted to just get this off of you?” in a split second, he pulls the underwear down, the cool air hitting your bare skin. The way you shivered underneath his grasp didn’t go unnoticed, and he laughed at the way you attempted to close your legs for some heat.

Jake prods one of his legs to keep yours open. And then? He dips down and he shit— he devours your bare pussy like a man starved for years. It must be the alcohol consuming you, because when in the hell did he get there?

But it didn’t matter now, for Jake was full on licking, slurping, nourishing your cunt.

Now you don’t hold yourself back, now you moaned out his name in full pride and glory. “Jake— fuck, I—”

The sounds were pornographic at best, with Jake’s tongue absolutely wrecking your arousal filled pussy, two of his hands gripped both cheeks of your ass as he spreads it open— as he spreads you open much wider. “Mmh, yeah— s’good.”

You grip his tousled hair, feeling your back slide down due to the immense pressure his mouth provided. But Jake wasn’t having any of that shit, lifting himself up for a second, wiping the remnants of your juices from his mouth. He carried you with ease over to the toilet chair, closing the lid as he unfurls your thighs once more.

He doesn’t eat you out this time, taking two of his long fingers, slipping in the same hole. “So wet babe— hell, it’s taking my fingers in so well. Shit.” Jake nears your fucked out face, letting his left hand caress your hair as he peppered kisses to your forehead. He must love kissing and making out because the amount of remnants his lips left on parts of your body was uncountable at this point.

Jake couldn’t really be blamed, though. It felt like you were a fragile little doll in his hands, even if you are anything but that. Such a precious little thing beneath his grasp, god— he felt himself go absolutely insane. He didn’t expect to see you here, over at the bar he frequented, but hell was he glad.

Jake continued to scissor you open, in out, in out, his fingers were completely disappearing and reappearing from the slick juices of your cunt. And he absolutely fucking loved it. His boner at this point was already uncontrollable, but he hadn’t really payed much attention to his own needs given that you were here. And you needed much attention.

Scratch that, he really just wanted a taste of you.

“Jake, you’re hard- fuck!” You moan when he hits a particular spot that had you rolling your eyes back. Jake chuckles, “Shh, baby it’s alright. I’ll let you deal with it later, yeah?” fingering that particular spot with much force and enthusiasm. Sim Jaeyun was a fucking menace— he was absolutely divine with the way he worked his fingers and prodded into your throbbing hole with ease.

“You see how well it takes my fingers in baby?” Jake babbles, keeping his eyes glued to his motions. “I fucking wonder how well you’ll take my throbbing dick.”

The way Jake spoke is something surprisingly different. You half-expected it, this particular image of him loving all the dirty talk when he gets his fair share of sex. But experiencing and witnessing it first hand is a different story altogether.

You stick your tongue out, oblivious to the way Jake stares in awe. The absolute fucking guilt of having fantasized about something like this during your first meeting with Jake had long disappeared. Somehow, you just knew Jake thought of this too.

It wasn’t hard to believe, given how he seemed to be so adamant on pleasuring you, praising you, all while his own boner and hard-on left him wincing every once in a while in pain. It hurts every time he sees your pussy clench and drench his fingers. He doesn’t know what came over him, you were just so sexy it hurt.

Taking matters into your own hands, you free your grip from his shoulders, swiftly grabbing hold of the belt of his pants and unbuckling it with shaky hands. “Damn- you want it?” Jake groans, momentarily stopping all sorts of pleasure on your cunt.

You barely muffle out a hum, pulling his pants down along with his boxers, his throbbing, leaking dick bouncing against your supple cheeks like a scene from a porn movie. Jake has had his fair share of porn movies, but nothing came close to the way you stroke and teased his skin and massaged his balls.

Jake straightens his posture, keeping his hands on your head as you minded your business on his already leaking cock. It smelled musky, slightly tangy and sweet like the alcohol that tainted his mouth minutes prior. Slowly, you took one languid lick at tip of his dick, then dragging that very same tongue down his length.

Down, down, down.

Until your muscles eventually reached his balls, the warmth of it soothing your face. You cupped it with both hands, relishing each and every part of Jake’s dick. You’ve thought of this before— Jake’s ridiculously long and girthy cock tracing itself on his dark pants. It was torture, you think every time.

Because Jake is big.

And it seemed his member’s only getting bigger everytime you touch or do so much as tease it.

Without much of a warning, Jake takes full control of your head and shoves his entire cock whole inside of your mouth. He just stuffs it inside your mouth, completely ignoring the fact that you were choking. “Fuuuck— yeah, take it in just like that.” he whined. Hearing Jake whine was enough of an indication and a button for you to bob your head up and down, down and up— fully intent on getting him to release those sounds just as much as he did with you.

“You know what you’re doing– shit. Taking me in so well…” He pats your head, retracting it for a second then slamming in with full force. You could hardly breathe, but you fucking loved the sensation you were feeling— the sensation you were fucking feeding Sim Jaeyun. This was all such a catch. Despite the slightly smelly and sticky feeling of having sex inside the bathroom of the bar, the thrill of possibly getting caught any time now has you more aroused than ever.

Hell, you only wished Jake locked the door before entering here.

“Mmh, don’t worry about the doors. I made sure I— fuck!” Jake threw his head back as the entirety of his cock reach unimaginable lengths down your throat. You kept your hands glued to the side of his thighs, looking up at him with such eyes. Jake felt his warm member twitch at the sight alone. So feeble, so adorable— so not mouthy with your snarky mouth stuffed with cock. His own cock. Jake caressed your cheeks, smiling as he did so, “I made sure I didn’t lock the doors. You want the thrill, don’t you?”

Frantic, you pat his thighs and tried to pull yourself away from him. Tried. Jake wasn’t having any of it, stern on keeping your head bobbing up and down his length. “The thrill of getting caught, yeah?”

You stopped fighting all sense of sanity, and instead, focusing on swallowing down Jake whole.

Who cares if you get caught anyways? What the fuck ever. This was worth taking the risk for.

It takes a little while more to get him to finally release and whimper out your name, “Oh- I’m cumming. Take it in, shit. Take it in—”

Jake’s spurts his white semen inside your velvety mouth, the warm bitter taste coating it. He keeps your head close, making sure you were taking in every ounce of his liquid. Sim Jaeyun felt stars circle his eyes— that was the best head he’s gotten in his lifetime.

“You’ve done this before?” He asks as you retract from his head and wipe the side of your mouth with the back of your hand. Shrugging, you nod, “had a boyfriend I used to do this to.” admitting the fact that this wasn’t your first time. Surprised, Jake smirks and rubs your lips gently. You still kneeled beneath you while he towered over you. “Oh? Why’s he your ex now?”

“For the record,” you stood up from your position, grasping Jake’s cock once more as you prepared for the finale. The next big thing. And gosh, you were thankful because he was immediately rock hard, absolutely unbothered with the way you sucked and teased him earlier. He must be enjoying this too. “He couldn’t eat me out very well, couldn’t place his dick inside here either.”

Jake halts your hand from going any further, his restriction now coming into play.

“As much as I’d really love to fuck you right now, Y/N–” he laughs, “it’s kind of smelly in here. My car, instead?”

And as impatient as you were, you nodded, because it was damn repugnant in this public bathroom.

~~~~~~

“I’ll go straight to the point, it’s making me so damn impatient.”

Exiting the club and slipping out from the mindless people was easy, after the alcohol had somewhat left your system from the tension that occured minutes prior, it felt like you were ready to take Jake in. As in— as a fucking whole with a big cock like that.

It seems he shared the same sentiment, immediately pulling you over the back seat and letting your back meet the plush mattress. It smelled divine inside his car, a mix of licorice and something woody at the same time. You know he uses the same scent on himself.

Jake immediately prods the hem of your already raked up tight skirt, clutching your worn out pussy and circling your clit with his thumb. Giggling, you pull his head closer to yours and kissed him. Jake gladly reciprocated the action, you feel his lower half fumbling about as he unfurls his pants.

Getting it back on was such a pain in the ass.

“You taste like candy, god- you’re making me go insane.” he then attacks your neck by riddling it with marks. One mark after another, each one more darker than the next. “Gonna fucking mark you mine, show that ex of yours what he’s missing out on.”

“Mmh, please do, Jakey…” the nickname felt foreign and new against your tongue. He must’ve loved this though, cause the second after, he was all up your lips and whispering random praises. Jake’s good at this— pampering you, peppering you, absolutely fucking needing you like it was his last. “You want that baby?”

He twirls his thumb and index finger at your clit. “Want me to show you who’s doing this better?”

And there was absolutely no question about it. In perhaps any other universe out there— he will and will always do shit better. But you nod, choosing to swell his ego and pride a bit. This causes Jake to smirk as you feel something wet and warm hit the opening of your cunt. “You on the pill?” he asks and you nod.

Something ignits within Jake, a sudden idea coiling in the back of his mind as he says, “I’ll paint your walls clean, that okay?”

And you?

You whine pathetically, “all yours, Jake… Just please put it in.”

Hell, if Heeseung or if your parents knew what in the fuck you were saying right now, you don’t think you’d honestly live through it. But in the spur of the moment, it all feels so sexy and so erotic. Nothing has ever felt so raw and shameless before. Not with your ex who could barely get you to cum, most of all not with anyone else.

Without a warning, Jake pressed his entire cock inside your unaware cunt. It was practically a given at this point that Jake was big. As in— humungous. You visibly winced, feeling each and every corner of your insides being stretched out from his cock alone. This wasn’t your first time having sex, but this is is your first time having a cock this big down your pussy, feeling just right like a puzzle piece.

“Shit, you’re squeezing me too much, baby…” Jake groans, feeling his hips go numb for a moment as he falls forward and kisses the nape of your neck. He caressed your waist, gently pecking your cheek. “Relax…” He tells you, and you do, welcoming his member after each and every breath. The comfort Jake offered made you chuckle a bit, a sense of ease allowing your tightness to loosen up a bit from the tension.

“I’ll move, yeah?” He whispers through tight breaths, as do you, clutching his bicep. Jake feels you ease in to his cock that protruded your entrance, and he slams it. Hard. Fast. Definite. Hitting the walls of your cervix so damn good.

You feel your ear go numb at the sensation, Jake faltered too, pressing some of his bodyweight on you as he mumbled curses, “Mhm, you’re squeezing me still— shit. I can’t last long with your pussy like this.” He drunkenly says.

Sim Jaeyun was fucking intoxicating.

Doing all this.

Speaking like this.

“God, Jake, you make me go- i-insane…”

Jake chuckled, “Do I baby?” kissing you once more in places he finds accessible, “do you like me being this deep on your little cunt?”

You nod.

“This feels so good, yeah? Bet you’ve been eyeing my cock too the moment you got your tattoo.”

Jake was practically moving on autopilot at this point, swaying his hips back and forth, and your fucked up pussy attempting to accomodate his fast movements.

And you agree.

Not only because it felt good.

But also because he was the one doing this to you.

This night might as well go on for forever.

Jake hits a particular spot down your squelching cunt, erupting the tiniest whimper from you. He grins, “this—” pushing his cock a little harder down that very same spot. “one?”

And you’re absolutely gone. Babbling his name, screaming for him to hit it farther down. And Sim Jaeyun fucking does, he pistoned his hips, eyes travelling down to the way you soak him in so good and refuse to let his cock leave your pussy, enveloping him in such a way that had him going dizzy.

It doesn’t take long before he was on the brink too, cursing as he licked your lips and gave you marks around your neck, not tattoos this time. “I’m coming baby- so close.”

“‘M too, Jakey— keep going.”

“Gonna paint you clean, okay?” he mumbled, “make this pussy mine yeah? You want that too right? You need this too?”

It felt like he was begging with the way he spoke, but it was so hot and so sexy that you can’t help but nod and agree with his fucked out statements. You tell him you’d want to be fucked like that, you tell him he can absolutely fucking paint your walls pure white with his cum.

The last thrust, and Sim Jaeyun loses all control and you feel his warm liquid spurting through your squirting cunt, each and every drop of it not going to waste as he made sure to keep his cock inside your throbbing hole.

He merely watches as he keeps his cock there, pouring all of his cum erotically.

The sweat was nothing compared to the bar earlier, the hot humid air in the car making you feel so sticky and warm all together. Jake pulls his member out of your pussy, wiping the excess and inserting it back to its rightful place— your hole. He smiles once he sees you shiver when his fingers delved in. But you were too tired, too worn out.

And without much of another word, the next thing you saw was black.

~~~~~~

Caramel. Vanilla. Coffee beans.

The scent of something stirs up your system awake. The perfect breakfast.

Suddenly, you were hit with something far, far greater. This did not feel like your sheets, and you never cooked or had breakfast around.

Swiftly, you opened your eyes to find yourself wrapped in a whirlwind of emotions. You weren’t naked, clothed in a shirt that was twice your size, and you were certainly not in your room, either. The remnants of last night scrambled through your brain, your head pounding like never before.

You remembered everything.

From Jake’s eyes glued to you the entire night, to his body connecting with yours.

It was abominable, but it was so perfect at the same time. You cringed at the fact that you were truly experiencing this, getting laid with your hot tattoo artist you met for a few days.

It’s stupid.

Really stupid.

You slap yourself in the cheek with far more force intended, cursing beneath your breath. Looking around, you saw how organized and clean Jake kept his room. Contrary to yours riddled with sticky notes and papers for reviewers, he had minimal stuff around (as do most men) with only a bed, bedside table, closet, and a large desk with his devices.

The room was relatively dim and dark, the design catering perfectly up to Jake’s taste. Then, the smell of bacon intrigued your nose.

It must be Jake, cooking something up.

You picked yourself up on your feet, only to discover that you physically can’t. Or at least, it was hard to do so given your legs felt so bruised and incapable from the sudden gush of pain hitting your thighs and your— yeah, well, down there.

“Fuck, was it that brutal?” you whisper to yourself, attempting to make way to the kitchen and navigating Jake’s space. You eventually made it there, only to find the culprit with his back turned on you, holding a pan and flipping the food around.

He had only his back turned but his sculpted shoulder blades was enough to make your knees buckle again. Jake hears the footsteps nearing his way, turning around to greet you with that same warm smile. So indifferent.

“You’re awake just in time.” He greets, putting the last piece of bacon down on the plate. He had pancakes, scrambled eggs, fruits, bacon, and a cup of hot coffee all prepared.

It kind of felt like he’s your boyfriend for a split second.

“I didn’t know where to drop you off last night, so I hope you don’t mind that you’re here.”

You shook your head, feeling ashamed with the situation at hand. For sure, your hair was disheveled, your makeup was all over the place, and your breath smelled like absolute ass. “I’m sorry for um… Causing so much trouble last night, that’s kind of rude of me.”

Jake shook his head, rubbing the nape of his neck. “No, I should be the one apologizing after all… That.”

Upon his last word, the two of you fell silent and numb. “I think we should talk about that.”

Jake immediately agrees, placing the pan on the sink. “We really should.”

You make your way over to the table after he insisted, getting you a plate of your own. The two of you ate in silence for a little while, the words hanging upon your tongue but never fully letting loose.

That was until Jake speaks up, breaking the ice. “What do you want to happen with this?”

You halt the piece of pancake you were just about to bite, “With what?”

Jake shrugs, putting his utensils down. “With this whole thing that happened between us. You remember it too, right?”

You did. The whole entire night. As clear as day.

“Just… Parts of it, I guess.”

Jake nods, though you can tell from the look on his eyes that he wasn’t having it. “Y/N, to be frank with you— I’m not looking for anything serious. I’ve told you that before, right? I don’t do girlfriends, just—”

“One night stands. You’ve mentioned, yeah.”

It wasn’t such a hard pill to swallow, really.

“Right. Just wish this didn’t get your hopes up on anything or what.”

You raise a brow, feeling rather pissed off at what he’d just said. You? Hanging on his thread? He was absolutely correct. But to hear it straight up from him was brutal and quite frankly, bruised your ego. “Trust me, I don’t get my hopes up over things like these–” you take a bite out of the bacon, “takes too much time and trouble.”

Jake grins, unaware of your bitterness towards the matter. Instead, he felt glad you supposedly feel the same way. “Glad we’re on the same wavelength. So, what’s your choice gonna be?”

“My choice?” Jake nods, “We can pretend this never happened or we can… Continue if you’d like.”

The way the word continue rolls off his tongue

felt odd. “Continue?” You clarify, “as in- you’d want to continue this fuck and run thing?”

It wouldn’t necessarily be forced in your end, but damn.

Jake shrugs. “Admit it, you and I both get a good fuck. It’s a win-win situation.”

Sim Jaeyun was more heartless than you’d thought of him to be. Then again, you half expected this to happen. “And? If we continue this… Whatever this is— where in the hell do we even draw the line?”

You bet you’ll catch feelings first.

“Catching feelings is where we draw the line. You know? Typical friends with benefits type of scenario.”

Typical friends with benefits type of scenario.

Something tells you Jake has pulled this exact script plenty of times before, like the lines he’d said over at the tattoo shop. Not necessarily programmed— but it was expected of him to say… That.

You ponder over his words.

And Jake merely eyes you.

You could refuse right now and tell him that— no, you absolutely cannot risk where he begins to draw the line because for you, crossing it was fatal trouble. You’re never one to catch feelings very quickly, but sooner or later, when this goes on, you know very will you will.

Jake is the epitome of everything your ex wasn’t.

The complete opposite.

Just your type.

So how in the world were you going to assure yourself you weren’t going to fall for him?

It was half and half, really.

But the moment you came back for your second tattoo, you knew full well what you were getting yourself into.

It was fucking dangerous.

And it was a risk you were more than willing to take.

“I mean, why not? Harmless hookups here and there wouldn’t be so bad.” it was more so of you trying to convince yourself rather than Jake. But the latter agreed to your sentiment, saying, “I hope you know what you’re getting yourself into, Y/N.” the tiniest, but snarkiest grin appearing onto his features. “We’re playing with fire, and its dangerous.”

“So do I. But here I am anyway.”

~~~~~~

Following the rather… Eventful incident over at Jake’s place, he drops you off over to your place as an apology to what happened the previous nights. Checking your phone hours later, you find that Heeseung’s been riddling you with calls and endless drunk texts as to wherever the hell you’ve gone off to.

11:30 PM.

Seungie: where tf r u???

Seungie: …. im serious beuh UGH i canr do dis rn im dancinf w some randok gurl and she smeels like shit 💩

Seungie: kind of smellsnlike u lol

Seungie: lolololol

1 AM

Seungie: hope u fgot laid or smthn lol i gor scolwdwd by sunghoon dor reeking like alcogool hahaha 🤣🤣

Seungie: i feel SOOOO ELEVATED RIGHT NOWWWW!! WOOOOOO!

1:30 AM

Seungie: beatch how tf r u like u got laid THAT good to be ignoring my calls n shi???

Seungie: bruh

9:47 AM

Seungie: hey i just woke up, i got so wasted last night. lol ignore the weird ass messages

Seungie: Y/N are you okay? please reply omfg i’m sorry i wasn’t able to guard you properly last night

Seungie: not that it was my responsibility or what but

10:30 AM

Seungie: now i’m seriously getting worried, where the hell are you?

Seungie: please reply back, your location says you’re not at your home right now???

11:00 AM

You: Omg Hee, Cafe. In ten minutes. Get dressed. I have so much to fucking spill.

11:05 AM

Seungie: WHAT THE FUCK

Seungie: FINALLY I THOUGHT YOU GOT LIKE KIDNAPPED OR SOMETHING

Seungie: ALSO WHAT YOU CANT BE MAKING PLANS SO FAST

You: Just did.

Seungie: What are we wearing?

You: im in my pajamas bruh

Twenty minutes after your said conversation with a very worried Heeseung, you swiftly made your way over to the cafe you saw randomly on the way to work. It looked nice and aesthetically pleasing, a small run down coffee shop owned by a few college students.

Heeseung arrived shortly after, quite literally embracing you until you can’t breathe anymore. That’s how much he was worried and scared.

“I thought you got like kidnapped or something.”

He mumbles, apologizing for the way he swore to take responsibility of you, only to get lost in the crowd minutes after. “After promising me you’d like— guard me or something like that.” You roll your eyes, sitting down across from Heeseung. Your drinks arrived, and he looked somewhat guilty, eyes avoiding yours. “Got too lost with the ladies.”

“With the ladies my ass.”

“Enough of that, what the heck are you going to tell me anyways? Come on, give me some credit for being worried sick.”

Another roll of eyes came his way. You had to hand it to him, though. Thirty missed calls and like- a spam of messages throughout the night. Despite being wasted and all that, he really was worried.

“So… Remember Jake?”

“The hot tattoo artist you fawned over? Yeah. What about him?”

“I fucked him.”

“Your left middle finger or right?”

“No— as in— I fucked him.”

“Yeah, and I’m asking whether—“ and then, Heeseung stops. “WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?!” He was an edge away from spilling his coffee all over the place, standing abruptly. “You did— WHAT now?”

Stoic and composed, you sipped on your drink. “He was at the bar last night, we danced, we made out in the bathroom, and we… Did the thing in his car.”

“You are not serious right now.” Heeseung slowly sinks back to his seat, “You are absolutely not serious right now.” he was in total disbelief. You did not aid to his surprise though, shrugging your shoulders and leaning back against the wooden chair. “I wouldn’t be telling you this if I wasn’t. I literally feel like my heart is like pumping way more blood than it’s supposed to be.”

“There’s a term for that, medical student.”

“Sinus Tachycardia.”

“Thank you smarty pants— do you-” Heeseung shifts in his seat, “do you like regret what you’ve done? Also, are you on the pill and is he clean?”

His questions came gunshotting in.

“No. Yes, and yes.”

“Do you like him? Or do you just want to have fun with him? He’s attractive but he looks like he’s a playboy.”

You confirm Heeseung’s statement, saying, “he’s more than that. I bet he’s had like a hundred girls up in his alley before.”

“And you don’t mind?”

“It’s not that I don’t mind, it’s just that—”

Heeseung beats you to it, “It’s just that you want to play this game with him, am I right? He’s probably offering you the spot of like, I don’t know— fuck buddies or something.”

“You know what? That’s exactly what he said.” You point to him, gaping your mouth as if he’d just solve the biggest mystery in the world. Heeseung shrugs, “see? You absolutely wouldn’t mind getting fooled by this man. I cannot blame you though.”

“Right?” he sips on his drink dramatically, setting it down. Then, he crossed his legs over the other and meticulously intertwined his fingers like some sort of diva. A freaking dork stuck inside a hot body.

“You are getting yourself in a very sticky situation, missy.”

“Okay, you sound like my dad right now.”

“But you know full well I’m right.”

“Can’t argue with that.”

He pinched the bridge of his noise, still in that same poised manner, “it’s not the first time you’ve pulled this shit, so I guess go for it.”

“Wow, real supportive.” the two of you simultaneously roll your eyes at the back of your head, chuckling at the sudden coincidence as Heeseung spoke, “just be careful.”

“Can’t promise you that.”

“Of course you can’t.”

~~~~~~

The days following your unfortunate incident with Jake— you discerned one very unsettling thing.

You were well aware you go to the same university as him, as he mentioned previously. It always gnawed at the back of your head, but obviously, the department of his course differed and his line of field was over at the other building, not here. Never here.

So chances of bumping into him were low. Or so you thought.

But oddly enough, you’ve been seeing him more than usual. As in— he’s just always somehow appearing out of nowhere. Often with perhaps a friend named Sunghoon who you shared a class with at Anatomy and Physiology. Note that he shared a common mutual with Heeseung, much to your surprise.

A small world, you were beginning to think he was doing it on purpose, waiting for Sunghoon to finish his classes (you were on the same few class), and deliberately hanging by, leaning against that same wall with his arms crossed as if he hadn’t just done the most sinful thing days prior.

Like right now. Moments after you’ve left the lecture hall, you were half expecting this to happen. Sim Jaeyun, leaning against a pillar a few distances away from the room, headphones on his ear as he sucked on a lollipop. The sweet treat caught your attention, eyes observing the way his to gue swirled around the candy.

Wow, that’s so… Hot.

You knew Jake had a distinct sense of fashion, matching yours in a way that made it look like you dressed together. But god, seeing him with no contact made warm things appear down the pits of your stomach. It wasn’t helping you weren’t reaching out to him at all these past few days.

The man names Sunghoon eventually appeared from the door, nearing Jake and greeting him. He returned the favor, momentarily locking eyes with you— intentionally.

He grins.

You grin back.

His left hand holds the stick of the treat, swirling his tongue around the strawberry flavor.

And that absolutely does it for you.

~~~~~~

You’ve pictured yourself in this scenario plenty of times before.

It seemed it was going to become an occasional thing now.

You, wrapped in the silky sheets of Jake’s blankets, your body bare and exposed to his touch alone. He wasn’t touching you now, though, the scent of cherry flavored air unveiling from his mouth. You hardly knew he vaped, but now here you were, leaning against his bed’s frame, watching the way he neared the lip of the vape to his mouth, then releasing that breath of air so nonchalantly and unfazed.

Jake merely stared at the ceiling as you stared at him.

His chest flexed upon your cold fingers touching it, sculpting and tracing part of his well defined abs. He chuckles, “What? Another round so suddenly?”

You roll your eyes, “I’m just touching you, is that so wrong?” Jake shook his head, tilting his head over to your direction and releasing the cherry flavored air straight to your face. Normally, you’d consider it as rude, but when Jake does it, something about the deed felt so hot and attractive. “You’re not helping when you touch me like that.”

And once more, something builds up down the pits of your stomach.

Jake feels this. He knows. And he acts upon it, lifting his leg, raking it across as he hovered above you with ease.

He neared his head, lips ghosting over your plump lips.

“Let’s try something new, yeah?”

~~~~~~
It goes on for a month.

The routine goes as follows: You make some sort of eye contact with Jake at the hallway, when classes end, he either goes to your place or you go to his. An endless cycle of quite literally fucking and playing around.

A terrible habit you’ve garnered from Jake was the act of vaping. When he comes over, a guilty pleasure of yours was to puff from his pod, enjoying it as much as he did, especially when the flavors differed.

Sometimes it was cola, sometimes mint, sometimes even coffee flavored.

His vape was as addicting as him.

And it wasn’t long before Heeseung began to notice the particular change in habit. It’s not that you’ve fallen off of your arrangement of studying, going to work, and generally— being the goody-two-shoes you’ve always been. Something’s definitely shifted, though.

Seungie: lemme guess, ur sleeping w jake again

You: how’d u know. lol

Seungie: i can SMELL his disgusting ass vape from here, dont lie, ik you’ve been doing the same

You: am not.

Seungie: i literally smell you at work, no point in denying

You: …

You: okay fine. dont scold me.

Seungie: wasnt planning to, ur an adult i think u know what ure doing w ur life bae

Seungie: but just incase u need like advice, maybe pull out from your situation while its still early.

Seungie: your eyebags are so visible now, i feel like youre STRESSED with this man

You: kind of. he’s been keeping me up until god knows what time

Seungie: your quiz results?

You: still passing them.

Seungie: submissions?

You: still on time.

Seungie: okay. thats good, text me when u need something, ‘kay? i’m coming over to kaiza

You: okay so the two of you are at THAT stage now

Seungie: ;))

You: creepy.

The message ends there, you giggled like fool as Heeseung reacts to your message with a smirk. It seemed like you were not the only one moving things on your end.

However, unbeknownst to you, a frowning Jake hovered besde you, clutching his vape with much more force than intended. His hand grasped your phone swiftly, turning it off and placing it down your bedside table.

“Hey! What was that for!” You frown, attempting to reach for your phone only for Jake to have you pinned down with his strong and muscular arms. “I wasn’t informed your time spent with me would be shared by someone else.”

The latter part of his statement felt forced, strained even. You don’t fail to notice the way he grinds his teeth ever so slightly. “I was just texting Heeseung!” you counter, feeling the slightest hint of idea coming into play.

Jake rolled his eyes, rubbing your hands with his thumbs. His head stood a good distance away from you, but you could feel his willingness and urge to absolutely pound and devour you this very moment. Again. “And you’re with me right now.”

You couldn’t sense if he was just greedy or if he felt a bit of jealousy for the man. “I don’t think it’s right to be putting your attention on him—” Jake breathed in the scent of your nape, “rather than me?”

And the rest was practically history.

~~~~~~

It goes on for two months.

Jake’s made it clear anything personal will never get into matters like this.

And he’s done a pretty good job at keeping his word. The everlasting silence, glances, and hint everytime you passed each other down the hallway was enough of an indication that he wants this as much as you do. But never enough. You feel as though you’d want him so bad things may overflow, but for him— it felt like it was just alright. Never truly enough on his end.

Today marks the second month mark of your hookup with the man. He’d left your apartment just minutes prior with no word beforehand, during, or even after.

He really was just there to fuck the living shits out of you.

And it hurt too.

You thought as you stared at yourself through your bathroom’s mirror, fingers lightly grazing the hickeys he left splattered all around the neck, now turning purple. You’d have to wear a turtleneck to school tomorrow, but for now, you had bigger things to worry about. The marks were the least of your concern.

You don’t know what to make of it, don’t know what to assert of Jake’s actions towards you. He was crude when it came to sex, but the gentle touches were there. The aftercare was there. The love in his eyes at times felt like it was there. Everything a boyfriend should be doing, but he was not such.

And it hurt.

~~~~~~

The mark stretched on for three more months.

Eventually, the warm breeze had long dissipated and you were greeted with the winter snow. You had to start wrapping yourself up in multiple layers now as you went to work. As for your course, you had a few more months before you finished your pre-medical program. If granted the opportunity, your next stop would be to actually pursue the real deal.

Now?

The months felt like they were bearing more days by the second, too slow to halt at Christmas, the long awaited break simply being too slow.

An old record player sits idly atop the counter of the registrar.

The sound of ‘Come and Get Your Love’ by Redbone plays along, one of Heeseung’s personal picks for today’s tedious shift. He sways his body along the rhythm of the music to keep himself at bay from the intense heat the summer was bringing along.

He’s in a pretty good mood today, sipping a green apple flavored slushie despite the weather already being so cold.

“What got you so jumpy today?” You ask with a snort, shoving a box inside one if the counters. “Baby ‘cause you’re mine and you’re fine~” he does one of his obnoxiously good footworks, moonwalking owards you. Once face to face, he pulls something out from his pocket, showing you a picture of Kaiza.

“And you— look so divine!”

You roll your eyes, “Come and get your love!” swaying along with his antics despite not truly syncing with the beat. “Let me guess!” you say in between the music, “you asked her to be your girlfriend? And she said yes?”

“Correct! That’s why you gotta let me celebrate this.”

Another snort came down Heeseung’s way. He was always oddly energetic when something good happens, but you didn’t expect they’d move forward much better than expected. Way better than your stupid excuse of a relationship.

He sings along until the music is down, and eventually, he spoke, “I heard the engineering department is holding one of their annual music festivals again next Saturday.”

It was a particular Monday, the beginning of the weak already making you feel so weak.

“You down to go?”

“Yep. They got the best organized any department could have.”

Usually, each departments creates a festival or some sort of event all together as a final bang for the last semester. The engineering department upholds one of the best ones, if not the best— inviting big time artists and creating booths that are actually affordable and fun to buy from.

You attend the festival every year.

“You sure? For sure your ex is gonna be there.” Heeseung grabs classic vinyl record, placing it inside the player. Killing Me Softly.

Your ex, Doyun. The stupid fucker who cheated on you, happened to be one of the students in the very same department. He’s in a band, one of the overglorified ones at his department. A vocalist and a guitarist that’s simply too cocky for his own good.

You shrug, playing it off. “Not a big deal.” Hell, you might even see your sorry excuse of a best friend over at the festival. But it wasn’t anything to you now. If anything, it gave you all the more of a reason to not trust people.

Strumming my pain with his fingers,

Singing my life with his words.

“Heeseung, are you intentionally doing this right now?”

Heeseung grinned, “hey, the lyrics just happened to match up!”

You seriously want to skin this man alive.

“Ugh. Just organize the damn piles, please, before I hit you in the face.”

Killing me softly with his song.

Killing me softly… With his song.

~~~~~~

One of the things you realized during your whole agreement with Jake: you’ve never gotten his phone number.

You don’t know how in the world the two of you managed to keep a few months of hookup without communication, but it must be some sort of talent because you were only realizing it now.

Jake’s presence stopped showing up after your class to pick Sunghoon up for the rest of the week.

Last week, it was three days of the week; his usual.

Now, there was barely anything.

It was probably how you noticed the sudden absence of communication the two of you actually had in the real world. Simply being too engrossed in the bedroom to even think about texting. But somehow, it seemed to work so smoothly. The subtle glances, the cues— all of them were more than enough to act upon.

You watch as a mindless Sunghoon pops out of the class, walking along the hallway with no one by his side.

It was Friday now.

It seemed you weren’t going to get a glimpse of Jake anytime soon.

~~~~~~

The weekend was overbearing, spent on the couch munching away junk foods and watching your favorite seriouss— seriously hoping Jake would magically appear. Even if it meant him asking for sexual intercouse straight away.

Yet nothing came.

Monday came hitting again like a truck, and after a stressful class at one if your most disliked subjects— Physics, something td you it was a sign. A positive sign.

So when the bell rang and Sunghoon came out, you half-expected something. Anything to prove your jittering heart and brain.

But when you see nothing, all you do is heave out a sigh.

“Are you waiting for Jake?” Sunghoon spoke much to your surprise, strapping his bag to his back. Stunned, you turn around and said, “What?”

“I said are you waiting for Jake?”

You think about it for a second, whether or not this man is someone you could trust. Though eventually, “Ah— yeah. You know where he is?” you cave in. Sunghoon shrugs, “you’re the girl screaming his name out in his bedroom at twelve midnight am I right?”

God. You’ve never ran towards someone so fast, almost stumbling him back as you covered his mouth with your hand. What a ridiculously honest man! “You don’t say things like that in public!”

Sunghoon raised a brow, prying your hand off his mouth. “And I’ve told Jake plenty of times to keep the weird noises down especially during my quizzes and exams, but here we are.”

“What?”

Jake never told you that.

“You guys are roommates?”

Sunghoon nods his head, “Obviously? Besides, it’s already pretty obvious. You guys are fucking noisy as hell.” You can feel the frustration in Sunghoon’s voice, and you couldn’t really blame him, in all honesty. But had you known Sunghoon was there during your… Funny businesses, you would’ve kept things down.

Sheepishly, you scratch the nape of your neck and avoid his gaze. “Sorry, I— didn’t really know…”

Sunghon shrugs, “It’s a disturbance but whatever. I’ll ask again— are you looking for Jake?”

You nod.

You’ve never deemed Sunghoon to be so straight to the point and strict given that he always sat himself at the back of the class and hardly spoke. But it felt like you were being scolded by your father.

“If it answers your questions, I haven’t been seeing him much at the dorm as of late. He’s been going home much later than usual, not sure about his classes though I’m sure he still attends.”

You try and take in all of what he’s saying— in the fucking name of Jake!

“He might be preoccupied with things at his tattoo job or something, or like doing something odd like he usually does.”

Something odd?

“What odd thing exactly if you don’t mind me asking?”

Sunghoon shrugs, “hooking up with random girls, things like that.”

Oh.

Oh.

The man seemed to sense your sudden change of mood, as he shifts around uncomfortably, piecing together what to say. “Just ask him yourself, it’d be better that way.”

There was silence.

Until Sunghoon exasperatedly sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose, “don’t tell me you don’t have his contact?”

Another silence.

“Ugh. I cannot believe this,” he pulls out his phone, opening his contacts and handing you the number written on his screen. You swiftly took your phone out albeit haphzardly, typing in the letters so fast your fingers began to shake a bit. Once done, Sunghoon puts the phone back in his pocket.

Though it kind of pained you to be gaining access of Jake’s phone number not from the man himself, but from his friend- you chose to disregard the pride for now.

“I’m done, that’s all the help I can do.” Sunghoon turns around, waving one of his hand up, “Oh and if you patch that up— please keep the moans down otherwise I’ll kick both your asses out.”

God fucking dammit.

~~~~~~

The number, if anything— it scares you to death.

You’ve been staring at it for god knows how many hours now, memorizing it at some point as you fumbled to send out a message.

What would Jake even think of you sending out a, ‘hey Jake, this is Y/N. I was hoping to know when we can hookup soon?’

Frankly speaking, on your end, it would sound possesive, obsessed even, given the fact that his number came from not Jake himself but from his friend.

Your fingers were inches away from touching the send button.

Until, eventually, it stopped.

Yeah. It wouldn’t make sense. You weren’t his girlfriend or anything.

~~~~~~

You were beginning to think nothing ever happened between the two of you.

The second week of December, the third month of your hookup is the mark, the remembrance that this, this is exactly where everything started.

Yet as abrupt as everything came to be, things ended way too soon the very same way.

That particular Wednesday, you visited the tattoo shop in hopes of getting a, ‘tattoo’ from none other than Jake.

Kaiza said he wasn’t there and refused to entertain anymore questions.

Came Friday and Heeseung was practically drilling holes into your back.

“Dude, you’ve been mopping around since the moment you entered, what’s up with you?”

No response.

“Hello? Earth to Y/N!” He snapped a finger in front of your face, bringing you back to harsh reality. You blinked, “Y-yeah, I’m fine.” reasoning it out. Heeseung wasn’t having any of it, crossing his arms and rolling his eyes.

“I just know this is about Jake. What did he do this time?” You sigh, knowing there was no point in arguing. “This is stupid. Fucking stupid.”

“What is?”

The odd urge to spill everything came down, and before you knew it, you were telling Heeseung the whole story. How you expected for him to at least reach out, how he disappeared without so much of a trace, how you had to go to Sunghoon to ask about him, how you went to the tattoo shop.

Heeseung listened earnestly, and when you were done, it felt like he was some sort of philosopher, thinking way too passionately for an answer.

“Ending it while it was early would have been the best option.” He starts off saying, “but given your… Maybe desire for him I’d say it’s understandable.”

You nod. “But if Jake’s acting like that… Well, it’s best to let it go. You can’t be the one chasing him after swearing to yourself you’ll play his game. That looks desperate, right? And that is so not you.”

It really isn’t.

“You have to show him you’re capable of living without that— whole fuck buddies thing, because you do have a life outside of him.”

If there was anything unbearable about Heeseung, it was his capabilities to become so freaking annoying. But if there was anything that you loved about him, it’s the fact that he cares. He knows, and he actually understands whatever the hell’s going through your brain.

“If you don’t mind me asking,” he asked, you gave him the signal. “Why is that when Doyun you know— did that shitty ass thing, it affected you but from what I saw, it never really phased you as an individual?”

He was talking about the fact that following your breakup with the said man, all it took for you was a single tissue box and a few hours to get over him. As well as a much needed bar session and a couple of drinks. Now? You weren’t even hell-bent on taking a trip down the bar to have fun anymore.

“I think you know what I mean with what I’m saying, right?”

You nod, thinking of some sort of response.

The word traced itself down the tip of your tongue, the scary one, the absolutely forbidden word that you aren’t supposed to mention.

It’s been kept there for so long, refusing to be acknowledged by you. Yet at the same time, it was way too obvious, way too transparent to see that—

“It’s because I actually like him. I like Sim Jaeyun.”

~~~~~~

Saturday felt like a huge burst of energy pulsing through.

You plowed through your morning shift at the record shop that morning with Heeseung, and that evening, the two of you made your way over to the department’s festival. You assured Heeseung to enjoy his time with Kaiza, given that it was thsir first experience together and that you didn’t want to be a cockblock.

But god, you wish you hadn’t insisted that now.

Mixed between different bodies of sweat and people, despite it being less worse than a club, god you felt overstimulated with everything. A particular band was playing something at the stage, while people jammed along and jumped to their hearts’ content.

It was a vibrant event, if anything. You do remember this event being way more fun when you used to have a boyfriend to share the moment with.

Eventually, a new band enters the stage as the previous one finished, with only the endless muttering and cheering of the people coming into play.

And you recognized the band all too well.

“What an evening everyone! We are— daybreakers!”

You recognized that voice way too soon, too.

The crowd cheered, it was clear they were the fan favorite. It was for a moment only, but you saw the way the vocalist— god forbid you mention the name— had glanced over your direction, fingers strumming his electric guitar.

He knew you were there.

“Today, we’ll be playing a couple of songs for you all!” he says, hyping the crowd up. The crowd takes his bait, his band strumming along the tune of what sounded like— She Will Be Loved.

“I’ve had you so many times but somehow I want more—”

Your ass.

”And she will be loved.”

Loved or cheated on?

The song finishes, the head of your stupid ex lulling back and strumming the last notes of the song. You can’t help but roll your eyes. At least he still had the passion and the talent for this.

“This next song, I’m dedication to the person I’ve loved the most but was stupid enough to lose.”

The audience shouts a handful of, ‘awws.’

"Someone I truly love and want back— if you’re out there in the crowd—” he sighs.

“Y/N, this song is for you and I want you back.”

A complete shift of genre— the song ‘I Want You Back’ by 1969 plays. Your mouth was agape like a fish, processing the situation at hand.

You could tell from your peripheral vision that people who knew you or at least were from your peripheral point of view turned their heads around to look for you. You know Doyun saw you around, why bother to even mention your name if he hadn’t? And you’d safely assume him and your best friend didn’t quite work out given the fact that she wasn’t anywhere near the stage.

Served them right.

But goddamn you hated this fucking spotlight, the endless cheering as this man sang.

“When I had you to myself, I didn’t want you around, those pretty faces always made you stand out in a crowd.”

When Doyun looks over your direction, so does the crowd. Eventually, some were able to put a face to the name, with some even swaying around and calling it romantic.

Romantic your ass.

“Oh baby give me one more chance,” Doyun jumps down from the small stage, walking towards the center of the crowd. Like acting on command, the audience makes way for the man, “Won’t you please let me back in your heart?”

He stood before you now. Doyun, the same man you’ve come to love and cherish for years, serenading you with this song. It wasn’t romantic on your end, just purely laughable and pathetic even.

All the while, you pondered if Jake ever attended these events and if he was seeing this right now. God, you hope he wasn’t. You really, really, really do.

“Oh darlin’ I was blind to let you go, but now since I see you in his arms—” Doyun hands out a singlr rose, “Will you let me in again?”

Everyone chimed like it was their last performance on earth, like it was the very first serenade they’ve heard. If only they knew the boiling rage you had for this man, if only they knew how much he really acted off stage.

You stare at him for a moment, eyes locking onto his persistent ones.

Then, you took his microphone without permission, shouting—

“Fuck no.”

~~~~~~

Sunday was a lost of control for everything.

You went home that evening, the entire performance of a single man dampening your mood more than you’d like to admit. Heeseung bombarded you with messages, but you responded with a mere, ‘let’s talk about it next time, I’m exhausted’

And he seemed to take the hint, laying off for the rest of the night.

Sunday morning you find yourself up in your living room, contemplating whether or not you should text Jake and ask him how he’s doing or worst case— if he wants to hook up again.

But you don’t.

Sunday afternoon, by some odd circumstance, your feet dragged you along the heavy pavement and you find yourself back to square one— Tatts.

It was gettung unbearable by now. The lost of him without so much as a word or a simple hint to his disappearance or whereabouts. Jake just vanished, or at least, from your sight.

You enter the shop, the dark room hitting you as a welcome. It was a different person at the counter now, and much to your surprise, he gladly let you took Jake as the tattoo artist.

Jake.

Just thinking about his name and seeing him again made your head hurt but your heart excited at the same time. What was he thinking? What was he doing?

The man opened the curtains, only to see Jake like the second time you saw him— playing games on his phone with not so much as a care in the world. He didn’t see you yet, too preocuppied with his business as he spoke, “it’s a Sunday, why’s there a client–” then he looked up from his phone screen, only to halt his words and stare in utter shock.

You stared at him, not uttering a single word.

He stares back.

From anyone’s point of view, they’d assume he looked stoic and unfazed. But you know. You just know he was surprised to see you, just as much as you were.

“Ah. I see. Thanks.” Jake nods toward the man who left you with your business, and you hesitantly went inside his booth with clammy hands. With not so much as a word, Jake stood up and started doing his usual routine of preparing the things he needed. He was silent all the while, and you attempted to collect your thoughts until eventually, you spoke, “are you avoiding me?”

There was a pause, then he says, “avoiding you? Why would I do that?”

But his back was turned to you, and the way he spoke was monotone, devoid of emotion. “You haven’t been… Reaching out these past two weeks.”

“Is that something to be concerned about? Aren’t we just doing this for the fun of it?”

His words hit you like a truck coming in at full speed.

“Besides, what makes you think we’d be on that stage after a few good fuck sessions?” Jake turns to you. Through mixed emotions and albeit it being difficult, you tried and gauged his emotions and expressions.

“Not sure if you’re well aware but you really should be. We’re nothing more than mere hookup sessions.”

You feel a huge sting prick you through your chest, “then why aren’t you asking for a hookup these past few weeks?”

God, you felt and looked so desperate but it didn’t matter now.

Jake seethed, straightfroward, concise, and unattached— “because I simply don’t want to.”

He sat down at the small chair, you weren’t one to give it up easily. Given the fact that his head was down and he was absolutely avoiding making eye contact with you— the smallest hope for emotion or at least something more sparked within you.

“But I want to. What are we supposed to do when it’s me who wants it?”

Jake stays silent for a moment so you continue, “why is it that when you’re that one that wants it we should play along but when it’s me, it should be pushed aside?”

You turned to Jake, fingers fumbling with the hem of your shirt. “Why is it that when I ask for something you refuse?”

“Because I don’t want to.”

“It’s not fair Jake! Then you should’ve told me in the first place this whole thing was one-sided. I would have never agreed then!”

The desperation in your tone was evident, pieces of emotion crumbling down like a tall wall. You wanted him to talk to you, tell you what’s wrong, tell you that this whole entire thing which was completely his idea is worth fighting for.

Because frankly speaking, you don’t want to fight for it anymore.

Jake merely sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose as he says, “what tattoo and where?”

God fucking dammit.

“Are you even listening to me Jake?!”

He doesn’t speak.

As frustration bubbles up in your throat, your fingers finally caved in as they touched Sim Jaeyun’s chin, tilting it up ever so slightly to finally see the expression hidden beneath his covered face.

Sim Jaeyun’s eyes— they were tainted with desperation and pain. His orbs glossed, indicating that he probably wants to cry or at least he tried not to.

You’ve never seen him like this before.

“Are you— are you okay?” you muster, but Jake was quick to remove your hands from him as he ruffled his golden hair in attempt to calm himself down. “I’m fucking fine.” he seethes.

“Jake, no you aren’t. You aren’t fine. Tell me what’s wrong—” he cuts you off harshly, “I told you, I’m fine. Stop it.”

“Please. Please just tell me."

“I can’t.” Jake choked through.

”But why?”

“I can’t tell you anything. We’re nothing, remember? Fucking nothing.”

And then, unbeknownst to you, the words spilled— “We don’t have to be. Why do we keep pretending like we’re nothing? I just like you Jake— I really like you.” you push a little louder, a little more desperate, “can’t we act up on those emotions?”

Every pent up emotion came crashing through, and oddly enough, you find yourself crying despite swearing you would never do so again in front of a man. But those two weeks felt like they were the longest weeks of your life, trapped between endless classes and just wanting to see Jake somehow.

Jake understands why you’re crying. Panicked, he took a tissue and handed it to you. You weren’t taking it, letting the tears free fall as you stared at him with determined eyes. Jake however, took matters into his own hands and started wiping the tears off your face, cooing and telling you to stop crying.

“Don’t cry like that.” He whispers, but his tone was contradicting. “Like what?”

“Like that. I can’t bear it. I fucking can’t– shit.”

“Bear what, Jake? Your dislike towards me? Your hatred? Please just tell me now cause—”

Without any word, Jake quickly shuts you up by kissing you. His head was way too fast, pressing his plump lips against yours in a passionate and desperate kiss. Your eyes were wide, but you kept your composure, closing your eyes and feeling the sensation at hand.

It was just a kiss, and as Jake pulled back with a breathless sigh, he kept his eyes glued to yours, and his fingers intertwined with the strands of your hair.

“I can’t bear this. God, I can’t bear you.”

“Why?”

“It’s because I fucking like you too, goddamit. I was scared to acknowledge that, I was scared I’d get attached too much and—”

You pressed your lips against his again, shutting him off this time.

Then, you pulled back, a huge grin on your features.

“We can try. We can try this time.”

~~~~~~

“Butter… Butter, where’s the damn butter.”

7:30 AM Monday morning, the sun’s rays spark through the curtains as you cooked breakfast for two with nothing but Jake’s t-shirt on you which was twice his size.

The morning after the huge bursts of emotion, once the two of you finally calmed down, one thing led to another and eventually, you find yourself in your apartment, preparing breakfast for you and him.

You swiftly cooked up just a simple meal for the two of you, eggs, bacon, and pancakes. Perhaps you’d see to it to tease him later of what this meal reminded him off.

The thought of it made you grin.

Everything felt like it was falling back to place with Jake finally in your arms, and no more denying of what you actually feel for him, and what he feels for you.

As you flip through another pancake, a pair of arms came wrapping around the small of your waist, enclosing you in a tight hug. Something heavy sits atop your shoulder, followed by small kisses leading up to the nape of your neck.

“Mmh. Good morning baby…” Jake greets with a raspy voice, still peppering kisses. You smile, taking the pancake off the pan and putting it on the plate. “Good morning.” you greet him.

Jake stays silent for a little while, keeping his eyes glued to your cooking and never once letting go of his arms on your waist. This feels… Homey, somehow. Like the two of you are a married couple experiencing an average day together.

“That’s what we ate when I asked you to be fuck budddies.” you laugh, nodding along. Guess it wasn’t too much of a tease for him, then. “Yes, I’m making it again as a remembrance.”

“Remembrance?” Jake whispers, and without warning, he easily slips his fingers beneath your– his t-shirt, his hands coming into contact with your bare stomach. He started rubbing circles, until eventually, he asked, “can I?”

With a nod, Jake pressed his large hands farther up your body, reaching the spot just below your boobs. He caressed that too, gauging your reaction. You bit your lip, trying to show that it wasn’t affecting you, but when Jake inches further and caressed your nipples this time, you couldn’t help but shift slightly.

“What— what’re you doing?” You ask, but Jake didn’t respond, twiddling your nipples with his fingertips all the more. Suddenly, you feel something prod your butt, something sharp and hard. “Jake are you hard?”

”Mmh. Sorry baby, can we solve this for a minute?”

He mutters beneath your breath, the growing hardnesd on his dick very evident, pressing against your barely covered area. “Aren’t you tired from last night?” you ask, though if anything, what you had last night was nothing compared to past hookups. Filled with love and passion— not being driven by lust and power is something you never knew you needed until now, and also something you never knew Jake was capable of giving.

“I’ve charged up plenty, what about you?”

You smile. “Mmh. I guess we can give one shot, I’ll just finish these up.” You say, but before you even had the chance to finish the last batch of food, Jake turns you around, turning off the power from the stove and pinning you slightly to the left where a counter resides. He traps you with both his arms, never separating his lips from your neck. “I’d rather have you as my breakfast, that okay?”

“It’s okay, but—” with not another word, Jake sucked on a particularly sensitive spot just below your neck. You couldn’t help but wince, fingers grazing his bicep as you attempted to keep yourself still. Jake parts from your neck, licking the bottom of his tongue and grinning at you innocently, “you’re so sweet, baby…”

His kisses travelled down from your neck to your collarbone, biting the the bone ever so slightly. It seemed he loves biting as much as he loves making out.

“Stop biting me…” you giggle, feeling all too ticklish with his touch. Jake smirked, biting that very same touch. “Like this baby?” you try and push him off, but Jake was far too strong, carrying you bridal style in a split second as he headed over to the couch.

Surprised, you hit him by the chest, “what’re you doing!”

Jake laughs, pecking the tip of your nose intimately. Then, he throws you gently at the couch, following suit and keeping his right leg at the edge of it, his left leg stabilizing him, and his arms locking you still. “Doing this.”

He dips his head down, intertwining your lips with his in a passionate kiss. He wasted no time letting his tongue roam your mouth— the hot, wet, smacking resonating around the room. Jake’s right hand find its way around the waistband of your shirt, lifting it up slightly to reveal your thin underwear. He quickly puts it aside, rubbing the clit gently.

You whimper beneath the kiss, parting from him slightly to huff and ruffle your fingers around his soft fluffy golden hair— so well taken of.

“Keep doing that, Jakey, mmh…”

Jake grins, rubbing the clit with much more pressure, “like this baby? Call me Jakey again one more time, yeah?”

So you do, whimpering his name like it was the most precious thing in the entire world. And perhaps it is.

Jake keeps his undivided attention on the way he pampers you, inserting his middle and ring finger in. You gape in surprise, disregarding the fact that your neighbors might hear the noise— but let them know for all you care.

“Don’t hold back, yeah?” Jake whispers, keeping his eyes glued to his fingers which scissored your throbbing cunt. God, you looked so fucking divine all splayed out for him like this. He keeps his pace relatively fast, your moans pouring out with each movement of his finger.

When you feel a particular coil boil down the pits of your stomach, Jake halts and licks his mouth clean. You whimper, complaining, “Why—"

But Jake quickly shuts you off with a kiss, pulling down his boxers as he did so and letting his already hard and erect cock spring free. He wastes no time, positioning his girthy length– the tip of it against your hole. “You ready?” he asks and once you nod, he slams it in full force.

The energy Jake had early in the morning is insane, pistoning his hips back and forth like it was the easiest thing to do in the entire world. He grips the edge of the sofa, keeping his movement stable in and out of your pussy. He hits a particularly sensitive spot, “Fuck— no, no, Jake!”

“W-what—” something squirts, hitting Jake’s abdomen. It was warm, liquidy, and as the rest of the juices coated his legs, your still throbbing cunt pulsed down and squeezed him. Jake couldn’t help but throw his head back, his hand reaching out to grasp and lock your hair within his fingertips. “Fuck, you didn’t tell me you could just do that.”

Jake kept his ballistic pace. “Yeah? Do that for me again, please? Hmm?”

He pulls his dick out in one languid movement, spinning you around so you kneeled at the couch, hands clutching the edge of the sofa tightly. Jake needs no further words, quickly inserting his cock inside your slippery cunt. He takes hold of your waist, leaning you back towards his chest.

Fuck. He’s good.

“Give me another one baby? Mmhhh— pretty please…” Jake was begging, but it didn’t feel desperate. Rather, it still felt like he was in full control, licking your neck and twisting his fingers down your clit all at the same time. He was eager, seeing you squirt all over him like a pretty little play toy.

Jake has never seen anything like it, god he’d kill the world just to see it again. You whimper, “I can’t— I—”

“You fucking can baby, come on, I’m close too.” He urged, hitting that same spot seconds prior, which caused you to moan and scream his name out as you orgasmed and gave him the squirt he’s been so longing for. The couch was dirtied, but Jake pays no particular mind, staring in awe at the way your pussy convulsed and the way you felt like putty around his hands.

“I’m close baby— I’m close…” Jake repeats like a broken record, the controlled movements becoming a bit more careless as he did so. Eventually, after a few more thrusts, Jake pulls out and let his cock squirt his juices down your back and to your ass.

He groans, palming the rest of the juices out while still keeping his other hand close and supported around your waist. You were exhausted, crashing down the dirtied sofa breathlessly.

Jake laughs, grabbing a piece of tissue to clean up the mess around your body.

“I’m sorry baby.” he apologizes, gently taking care of your body. You smile at him, holding his head and pecking his lips.

“You bastard.” you say as an offense.

But god, you loved him like this.

~~~~~~

Your first tattoo was a butterfly.

The second was the one Jake gave you. 
The third was taking you a little bit more time to decide.

As you lay on your comfortable bed with Jake wrapping his arms around you (grace the heavens for having the apartment all to yourself as you were too embarrassed to even face Sunghoon’s too honest mouth after that interaction), you realize that perhaps now is the time to mark another piece of ink on your body.

“Hmm. Would this look good?” You ask him, you were suddenly reminded of this moment months prior, when you were in your bed, deciding on a tattoo after a much needed breakup.

Now, you had someone by your side.

Jake laughed, pointing at your inspiration’s crevices, “the edges look odd, it’ll bleed after a few days. Trust me.”

You roll your eyes, somewhat being annoyed with the way Jake is always so specific with his tattoos. It made sense, though. You never saw him with much in his sleeve or anywhere in his body, contrary to stereotypes about tattoo artist.

“What should I get then?”

“I have this brilliant idea,” Jake pops the lollipop off his mouth, leaning slightly towards you, “let’s get a matchy one.”

You grin, the idea not so half bad. “Where should we get it?”

“Hmm. Wrist? Thigh? You decide, it’s my first tattoo.”

Or maybe he’s never had a tattoo at all.

“Really?”

Jake deadpans, “you’ve seen me naked hundreds of times, you of all people would know, baby.”

You laugh, “I kind of assumed you got one in like your ass or something, I barely see that.”

“I can flash you right now—” Jake attemps to stand up, perhaps flash you his ass in full glory but you quickly stop him, “stop! Stop! I don’t wanna see your ass! Let’s get a matching tattoo!”

Jake snorts, popping the sweet treat right back to his lips. He’d stop vaping now days after you started this. You wouldn’t call it dating, as he never really asked you out, but it wasn’t entirely nothing either. Perhaps between the line of being his girl, and his friend?

At least he isn’t ghosting you anymore.

“I’ll decide on what to get, baby. Give me a few days.”

“Bet.”

~~~~~~

handsometattooartist: I’ll pick you up in a bit, wear something nice.

You: Wow, is this the day you finally ask me out?

handsometattooartist: Just trust me, okay?

You: Are you going to kidnap me?

handsometattooartist: Maybe ;)

You: Whatever lol, what tattoo are we getting?

handsometattooartist: Trust me on that too.

You: It better not be a dick.

handsometattooartist: Awh. Too bad.

You: I swear to god. Fine. You better ask me out after this.

You grin at your phone, Jake doesn’t reply after. Days after your tattoo planning with him, it seemed Jake was a little bit more busier than normal due to his finals and activities piling up.

He doesn’t fail to update you, neither does he fail to treat you like his girlfriend.

So naturally, the need of becoming officially his was growing each second. As you stand in front of your vanity, contemplating which attire would be appropriate for perhaps a possible date, you realize, that you may actually be very well getting what you want by now.

With the thougt in mind, you grin and hurriedly made your way to prepare.

~~~~~~

You opted to dress in something a little bit casual.

A pair of denim jeans and red halter top, and kitten-heels sandals. An outfit that gives you both comfort and style at the same time. Something a little out if your all black comfort zone.

Eventually, the doorbell rang and you excitedly ran to open it. There, you saw Jake in his full glory, dressed in pinstripe pants and a maroon short sleeved open collar shirt which coordinated with your outfit coincidentally. His hair looked cleaner, styled in a side part. (the urge to gobble him up is insane)

Hell, if you weren’t going after this, you don’t know what the hell you’re doing.

“You’re copying me.” you quip, but Jake rolls his eyes, “no, you are. Copycat.”

He laughs, extending an arm towards you. You took it, letting him lead you towards his car. “You look really pretty.”

Grinning, you extend your gratitude, careful enough to not let him see the massive smile forming on your face.

“You don’t look too bad yourself.”

He opens the car door for you, the two of you eventually reaching the tattoo shop as it was only a couple of minutes away from your apartment. Kaiza was on her day off today, spending her time with Heeseung. Who greeted you at the counter was another employee.

She pays no mind to Jake as the two of you entered the booth and hs start setting things up.

“Give me your wrist.”

You follow his instructions.

“You decided on the wrist, after all?”

Jake nods, “do you trust me?” eyeing you with his gaze that screamed to be a mix of encouragement and perhaps anticipation all at the same time. You smile,

“Of course I do.”

~~~~~~

The pricking of the needles was nothing new to you, but it still stung a little everytime it happens.

Minutes pass and eventually, Jake finishes his own to compare with yours.

It was not as distinguishable— scratch that, it really isn’t noticeable at all that the implication of the tattoo is to match with. You half expected something rather cliché, like half a heart on your wrist, and another on his.

Instead, what you got on your left wrist was the smallest hint of Daiquiri, particularly the same drink, same bottle, and even same shape of ice you’d drunk back at the club before you got to dirty business with Jake.

And his?

The one he drank— his glass of Boulevardier. The exact detail of both drinks coming into play as the ink patches itself into your skin. You stare at it for a moment. Well, you don’t hate it. It’s good, you just thought it’d be more… Obvious.

“You don’t like it?” Jake asks blunty, to which you shook your head, saying, “no! I think it’s great, the detail you put into it is insane. It’s just that… You know, doesn’t feel like we’re matching, does that make sense?”

Jake stares at the tattoo, then back to you, then back to the tattoo, before he says, “I think it matches our story just fine, you know? It looks nice, don’t have to be too obvious about it.”

The detail he put into it is nice, but you couldn’t help but ponder whether or not he wants to hide this, or perhaps this was just a Jake thing. You couldn’t really tell.

Jake sensed the way you shifted around a tiny bit, staring at the ink embedded into your skin. He grins, lifting your chin up to give you a small peck on the lips.

“Don’t overthink it. I’ve got more planned.”

Jake keeps your attention away from the tattoo, holding your hand and leading you out and back to his car. The car ride is silent, usually the noise would be filled in by the music Jake plays. But this time, it was utterly quiet.

“You wanna play some music? Or…"

Jake nods, letting you pick the music from his phone. As you scroll through his music playlist, a sudden notification pops up on his phone. In a group chat named— party planner.

Heeseung: jake u better hurry tf up u, me and kaiza drank all the liquor u’ve got lol

Kaiza: is ur rizz not rizzing today? why u so slow

You tried ignoring it, picking a random song from the playlist and setting the phone down. Why did they have a random group chat together? Most especially, why were you not included?

He was unusually jittery, tapping his fingers against his legs or shaking it. “Are you okay?” you ask him, Jake looks at you and nods. “Yeah, ‘s fine.” but the smile on his face was anything to go by. You choose not to press, opting not to ruin the day by riddling it with useless overthinking.

Eventually, after an hour of so, you were met with the outskirts of the city, a beach that situated itself in the midst of the hustling and bustling of the urban streets. He leads you out of the car, the sunset hitting the rays of his parked car perfectly.

It was quiet, not a lot of people go to such placed especially when the city is everything they’ve dreamed of. But away from all that— leads you to somewhere more tranquil and relaxed. You hardly visited the beach, almost forgetting how the sun’s existence aligned perfectly with the sea and how the sand was more white unlike any other, and how the sea crashed with ease.

Jake typed something in his phone swiftly as he did so, then turning his attention back to you. It felt like he was some sort of secret agent, making sure you couldn’t take a glimpse of the conversation.

“You ready?” he asks, extending his hand out. You took it carefully, the two of you walked away from the sidewalk and into the white sand, some of its remnants getting stuck between your toe. The sunset aligned perfectly, the cold wind washed against your skin as a sort of greeting.

And much to your surprise, Jake leads you to a small gazebo situated at the beach, decorated with tons of colorful lights. Petals of flowers riddled around the exterior as well as the wooden floor beneath, heart balloons decorated all around, and a small table for two at the very middle of the gazebo.

The table was clothed white, and on top of it, laid tons of food, particularly the ones you liked and enjoyed and what you’ve shared to Jake the most. Two drinks as well— a glass of Daiquiri and Boulevardier.

You were in total awe, too busy staring at the set up Jake had prepared to even notice that Jake had already helped you sit down. He chuckled at your gaping mouth, “I wasn’t sure if you were a fan of… Beach dates.”

“Shit— you- you made all this?” you cover your mouth, still surprised. Jake shook his head, laughing. “I asked help from Kaiza and Heeseung, you must’ve seen the messages at the group chat earlier.”

Oh, so that’s what it was.

“I was restless the whole ride, Kaiza kept telling me Heeseung ate the whole entire food here as a joke. But it didn’t seem like a joke."

You laugh, “it would be something Heeseung would do, where are they now?”

“Probably frolicking around, who cares about them, yeah?” Jake quips, you laugh along with him. He really put a lot of effort into this. Jake hands you the glass of liquor, raising his own, “I figured since these were the two drinks we drank at the bar that time, we could toast to it.”

You raise your own drink, bumping it against his and swallowing it whole. The sweet, tangy, bitter taste hitting your throat, reminding you of that time at the bar. Jake then plates you some of the food he’d prepared, even the container and baskets had designs and cute little flowers riddled around it.

You took a bite out of the food, letting it accomodate your taste buds. “Wow— you even cooked this?”

Jake nods. He must’ve cooked all, it must’ve also taken a lot of time, effort, and money to be doing all this. You never deemed Sim Jaeyun to be much of a romantic, but now, here you were. Upon seeing your positive reaction, Jake smiled to himself and prepped his own food. “I know the tattoo may not be such a match as you’d hope for it to be, but for me, it’s kind of like a hidden code only the two of us would know.”

Only the two of you would know.

“And—” Jake holds your hand from across the table, kissing your knuckles gently. “I like it when our shared moments remain between us.”

You stay silent for a minute, basking in all of this and waiting for him to—

“We may not have started off in the best terms possible… And I was a complete jerk.”

“You are.”

“And you know how I work.”

“Sure as hell do.”

“But I’m not gonna let this go– I’m not letting you go so easily, Y/N.”

Jake stands up, inching closer to you.

He holds your shoulder close as you sat, his fingertips travelling to your supple cheeks. On instinct, your legs straightened to you leveled Jake’s gaze.

“Does this mean I get all the tattoos I want for free?”

Jake chuckles, pecking your forehead, your eyes, your nose— then finally, your lips.

“All the tattoo’s you’d want in the world."

*:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧ END *:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧