#never go to college kids /j

[parched-chaos]

Finally got myself some energy to make a Vic drawing lol

[zipzaptoastainthebath]

my brother was watching The Goldbergs and while I was in the room I hear Beverley say “who in their right mind would move to northern California!?”

The way I slowly turned to look at my dad and he was instantly defending himself.

[wonusite]

I Hate U, I Love U

❝ After finally managing to escape the lifelong rivalry you once had with Yoon Jeonghan, you’re unexpectedly thrown back into the undesirable feud after receiving a scholarship to the most prestigious private school in the city. Despite your attempts to leave the past in the past, you discover too late that you’re the only one interested in letting the vendetta go. Years later, there’s a switch in dynamic when you’re the one unwilling to let it go. ❞

PAIRING: yoon jeonghan x female reader

WORD COUNT: 20.8k

GENRE: enemies to lovers au, rich kid au, college au, model au, fake dating au, angst, (tiniest bit of) fluff, smut

WARNINGS: they’re in high school at the beginning of this, rich boy!jeonghan, frat boy!jeonghan, former rich girl!reader, model!reader, classism, asshole parents, drinking, scheming, mild violence (1 slap), reader and jeonghan are pretty terrible to each other, repressed feelings, revenge is a recurring theme in this, lots of arguing, star-crossed lovers vibes, heavy on the regret, jealousy, fake relationship (but real feelings oops), oral sex (f receiving), unprotected sex, pussy drunk!hannie, cockdrunk!reader, multiple creampies, squirting, overstimulation

a/n: still can’t believe i sat down and wrote this much. hope you guys like it! based on this request (sorry it took so long rip). minors dni!!

You can still remember the exact way you felt when your family lost everything and was left in poverty. Back then, your reality had become a twilight zone that left you feeling misplaced. Fate was cruel to make that exact feeling resurface now as you’re standing at the gates of your new school.

An emotion that could’ve been written off as typical anxiety from being the new kid is actual nerves caused by the unhealthy obsession your parents have with reclaiming the status your family once had. Inexplicably, they both believed the main way to do this is to be better than the Yoon family.

Embarrassing as it is, this fixation of theirs dates back to before you were born. In particular, it’s your mom’s unrelenting need to be better than the Yoons that got you into this unfavorable situation in the first place. She can’t be fully blamed, though. Everything dates back the feud her first husband (your father) has been part of since he was a kid.

As a child, you didn’t fully understand how deep the hatred ran. You also didn’t realize that being the heir to your family’s fortune meant that their vendetta had become your burden to bear (and somehow still was). Naively, you believed everything was over the moment your family was left with nothing. It wasn’t until you were leaving your house that your mom made it clear she still expected you go head-to-head with the heir of the Yoon family.

Believing that Yoon Jeonghan would still be willing to partake in a petty rivalry with you isn’t realistic, but your mom is beyond seeing reason at this point. Restoring the prestige of your family name came before anything now (even reality). In your mom’s eyes, beating the only son of the Yoon family seems to be the only way to do it.

This new-but-not-new obligation is the reason you can’t stifle the sick feeling that overcomes you as you walk through the front gates of the most prestigious private school in the city.

The campus is larger and more extravagant in person. Every single thing—from the wide pathways to the elegant topography—screams money. Students are scattered in front of the building, clad in the expensive uniform that’s currently draped over your own frame. The sight of designer bags, stylish shoes, and glamorous jewelry is a reminder of what once was and will never be again.

As if that daunting fact isn’t enough to make the dread in your gut paralyze you with anxiety, the cold looks you get are. Maybe you’re paranoid, or maybe people are actually sneering at you because they recognize you. Either way, this feeling of wanting to disappear doesn’t go away.

You stop walking to dig in the pocket of your jacket to pull out your phone. It’s a pathetic attempt to look like you’re not a total outsider who would rather be anywhere else. Unfortunately, your actions don’t provide you with the comfort you’re looking for. You wonder if hiding somewhere inside would stifle the nerves you feel. As fate (and your rotten luck) would have it, you don’t get a chance to make that decision.

In a sudden instant, you feel a body collide with your own. You recoil with a surprised gasp when a hot liquid spills all over your chest and torso. The distinct smell makes you panic. Coffee stains are the worst kind, and you just know your mom is going kill you if the uniform she worked so hard to pay for is ruined. Panic seeps into your chest as you start to wipe at your wet clothes without looking up. It’s futile, but just thinking about the consequences that you’re going to face if the overpriced uniform got ruined makes you want to throw up.

“What the fuck!?” The loud yell draws the attention of all the people within the spacious vicinity. “Watch where you’re going, you fucking idiot!”

You furrow your eyebrows angrily, and before you can lift your head to see who’s yelling, you feel an empty cup hit your feet. The remnants of the coffee splatter on your shoes and the lower part of your shins. Somehow, you feel cold despite the coffee being scorching hot.

The surprised guffaws and gasps seem muffled because of how loud your heartbeat is. A yell of your own is building in your throat, but when you look up, you’re suddenly at a complete loss for words. It all feels like some horrible nightmare because you find yourself looking at a face that you never wanted to see again.

Like a scene out of a cheesy movie, your (former) sworn enemy is standing right in front of you.

For some inexplicable reason, you can’t find your voice. You can only stare at Jeonghan with a dumb expression on your face. The embarrassment and anger you feel clash together and whirl inside you like a tornado, but even the intensity of your emotions isn’t enough to get you to express them in the way you want.

Jeonghan feels very pleased with himself until the unknown girl lifts her head. He blinks once, twice, and a third time. This doesn’t have the effect he desires because the image of you isn’t going away. Many years have passed since he last saw you, but he could never forget your face. Jeonghan might’ve thought he was dropped in the middle of some bizarre dream if it wasn’t for the harsh hammering of his heart. It really is you standing in front of him, looking like you’re two seconds away from murdering him.

“What the hell is your problem?” You seeth, no longer able to push down all the anger you’re feeling. “You’re the one who ran into me, asshole!”

Never in your life had you seen someone turn so red in the span of two seconds. You briefly wonder why Jeonghan feels so embarrassed when it’s you who’s dripping in coffee with what feels like the entire world laughing at your expense.

“Y/N?” His voice is incredulous. “What are you doing here?”

It’s a stupid question to ask considering the fact that you’re literally wearing the school issued uniform and have a school bag slung over your shoulders, but you know what Jeonghan actually means: How is it possible that someone like you is attending this school?

You aren’t about to dignify him with an answer since it seems like the watching crowd is itching for a show. Giving him a reaction is only going to make you look crazy, and you won’t give him or anyone else that satisfaction. It seems like you’re the only one that feels this way, though.

“You can’t hand wash the uniform. It has to be dry cleaned.”

Once again, the snickers and mocking whispers sound deafening. Instead of punching him in the mouth like you want, you somehow convince yourself to keep a level head. “Whatever. Move.” You snap before shoving past the stunned boy.

Once you get away from that embarrassing scene and find a bathroom, you shrug off your jacket to assess the damage. A scowl brings down the edges of your lips when you see the dark stains the coffee left behind. With an aggravated sigh, you glance down at your uniform. The front part is somewhat damp and a bit dirty, but luckily for you (and your mom’s bank account) the stains aren’t too prominent.

You take a deep breath before lifting your head and squaring your shoulders. It doesn’t matter that this already feels like the worst day ever, you can’t lose sight of the goal your mom has in mind. And you definitely can’t let Jeonghan of all people derail those plans. Playing into his petty games isn’t something you can afford to do anymore. Not that you want to, anyway.

When you finally calm down and decide to face the day, you find Jeonghan standing outside the bathroom, waiting for you. His shocked gaze from before is long gone and replaced with a hostile one you're more familiar with.

“I guess the standards of the scholarship program have hit an all time low.” He says as he falls into step beside you. “Do you really think coming here is going to change anything? Someone like you doesn’t belong here.”

You try your hardest to ignore him, but he keeps following you. Briefly, you wonder why it seems like he’s eager to pick up where you two left off. Were his parents thinking the same thing as yours, or was this something he was doing on his own?

“I’m talking to you.”

Finally, you stop and turn to him with a mean glare on your face. “I can see the years have done nothing for that pea-sized brain of yours. No matter how much you want me gone, I’m not going anywhere.”

“If you think you’ll somehow claw your way back up the social ladder, you can get rid of that pathetic idea right now.” Jeonghan all but growls, feeling a type of anxiousness he hasn’t in years. “You don’t belong in this world anymore, and you never will.”

Maybe he was right, but that doesn’t matter. You’re not thinking of running away, especially from him. “Scared I’m gonna take your spot at the table?”

“Yeah, right.” He laughs, but it doesn’t sound as confident as he wants. “Someone like you will never take anything from me.”

You look at him and let out a contemptuous laugh. It had been years, but Jeonghan had remained painfully unchanging. The crazed look in his eyes and tone of voice makes you smirk. “You are scared.”

Jeonghan practically has steam coming out of his ears. He can’t say anything, and he’s not entirely sure why. You’re not at the same level as him anymore, but that doesn’t seem to shake any of that annoying self-confidence you’ve always had. Ironically, it feels like he’s the one on unsteady ground. An anxious feeling seeps into his stature because it’s like he can already hear his dad’s disappointed voice for letting you of all people shake him up.

“Well, you should be.” You say, wanting to get under his skin. “Because I don’t need money to get the things I want.”

Maybe those words triggered a reaction out of Jeonghan that was deeper than you realized, but it doesn’t matter. As soon as you got accepted into the private school, your fate was sealed.

The day doesn’t get much better for you as it goes on. Studying amongst the blue bloods wouldn’t be so bad if you happened to be a regular poor person, but since you and your entire family fell from grace all those years ago, you don’t have the luxury of going unnoticed. Their sly comments and sneers don’t hurt, but they are unbearably annoying.

Expectedly, you’ve made no new friends. Nearly every person looks at you like you’re an unwanted parasite, and you have a strong inkling that it has everything to do with what happened with Jeonghan in the morning. It’s not surprising, but it makes you feel more alone than you expect.

When the school day is finally over and you think you can finally get away from all the turmoil you’re feeling, you walk out the building to see the one person who can make this day even worse. Your dad isn’t alone. He’s accompanied by his wife and her son, Seokmin. You barely have time to digest seeing him after so long before he’s turning his head in your direction and makes eye contact.

In a split second, his smile falters until it’s completely wiped off his face. The oh shit look he has on his face makes an unmistakable revulsion force its way up your throat. Many would feel comforted by the sight of their father approaching them, but all you can feel is the dislike and lack of affection you have for him. Briefly, you wonder why he thinks it’s a good idea to come up to you when it’s clear he didn’t know that it was also your first day of school.

“Y/N.” The way he speaks your name is awkward and unsure. “What are you doing here?”

If one more person asked you that, you swear you were going to rip your hair out. Instead of snarking at him to use his fucking eyes and take a look at what you’re wearing, you respond as calmly as you can. “I applied for a scholarship last year.” You tell him, feeling like you might cry. “Mom said she left you a message.”

The grimace on his face makes you feel stupid and embarrassed, but you can’t walk away like you want. It feels like your feet are rooted to the ground, and there’s also the (not so) tiny fact that your mom would never forgive you if you walked away.

“I... I was going to call, but I wasn’t sure if you wanted to hear from me.”

You’re tempted to tell him that you know he hasn’t given you a single thought in the last four years. It’s blatantly obvious that his stepson is vastly more important to him than you are. You know that, and it no longer hurts as much as it used to.

“Mom said she called you last week.” You repeat, trying not to let your voice give away all the emotions brewing inside you. “She wants us to have dinner together tonight.”

His remorseful expression changes, and you know that he’s about to make things difficult for you all over again. “Y/N, today isn’t—”

“Never mind.” You cut him off, not in the mood to hear his excuses. “Your family is waiting for you, and mom’s waiting for me at home.”

Your dad’s wounded expression doesn’t make you feel anything. Especially not when you notice Jeonghan and his idiot friends gawking at you from afar. You don’t give your dad a chance to respond before you turn on your heel and walk away, hoping the angry tears poking the back of your eyes don’t fall before you get out of their line of sight.

The trip home is longer than usual now that you have to take two buses instead of one. It gives you time to think, although, you wish you didn’t have so much time to ponder your rampant thoughts. All you want to do is get home and sleep off the exhausting day you had.

Unfortunately for you, the universe had other plans that went directly against your wishes.

Directly in front of your apartment building, you can see your mom waiting for you. She has a pensive look on her face that can easily been mistaken with vexation, but you can’t be sure when it comes to the same woman who never reacts the way you expect her to. It’s rare to see a bright expression on your mother’s face these days, but she beams as soon as she sees you approaching.

“Y/N!” She hurries over to you with expectant eyes. “Did you see your father?”

You wish she didn’t look so excited as you nod silently, but her eyes seem to shine as she continues with her questioning. “How did it go? Did he agree to come tonight?”

Of course she only cares about that. Not how your day at a new school was or if you were adjusting well. She didn’t care if you liked the school nor was she interested to know if you made any friends. It’s not disappointing anymore, just irritating.

“He didn’t know that I got a scholarship.” Like she told you a month ago. “He didn’t even show up to see me.”

The excited smile slips off your mom’s face instantly. Her gaze turnes dark as a deep frown settles on her features. “What? How could you be so stupid?” Her voice rises into a hysteric yell. “I ask you to do one thing, and you can’t even do that right!”

You clench your jaw as if that will somehow relieve the anger that’s washing over you. Her degrading words are nothing new, but today it’s getting to you more than usual. “It’s not my fault he wants nothing to do with us. I told you—”

“Shut up.” She growls. “I don’t want to hear your excuses. I knew I couldn’t count on you.”

A humorless laugh rips from your throat before you can stop it. “Then you should’ve talked to him yourself instead of making me do it since you’re the one who wants to beg him for money.”

Knowing exactly how to get a reaction out of your mom is always satisfactory, until it isn’t. “I’m only doing this for you! Do you think I want to beg him for money after he abandoned me? All I’ve done since he left is try to give you a better life, and I’m sick of you punishing me for it!”

You could’ve laughed at the absurdity of her words. How could she think that when all these years it felt like you were the one being punished? Instead of telling her some overdue truths, you let out a quiet scoff. “Whatever. He wasn’t going to agree to come no matter what I said to him, and you know it.”

Her silence feels like a victory, but it’s a temporary one. “What I know is that you’re only capable of disappointing me.”

You don’t get a chance to respond before your mom brushes past you with an infuriated scowl. You look back angrily, watching her storm into the building. There’s a familiar anger burning fiercely in your chest as the argument lingers in your mind. She’s not worth your anger, but you can’t stop the overflow of every ugly emotion you’ve been bottling up since the morning.

Things don’t get better after that first day.

Unfortunately for you, going to the city’s most expensive private school doesn’t get any easier with time. The year passes by slowly, and you can’t truly enjoy it because you’re either studying or working. It’s hard to do both, but you aren’t left with much of a choice since your new school brought about unexpected expenses that your mom can’t afford to pay for alone.

As the months pass by, you wonder if all your hard work is really worth it. This dangerous thought lingers in your mind when you get to school on a rainy day after missing your first bus. You’re wet, cold, and tired. After pulling an all-nighter because you had to study for your history test, you’re not in the best mood. And because you apparently had the worst luck ever, Lee Seokmin just has to approach you to remind you that your dad’s birthday is just around the corner.

“Is there a reason you’re telling me this?” You wonder as you half-heartedly shove books into your locker.

“I just...” Seokmin’s voice is meek and nervous. “Are you going to come to his party this time?”

It’s funny that he assumed you were invited this time or any of the other times. “No. I have work that day.”

It’s not exactly a lie. Despite not knowing what day the celebration would be, you knew that you’d either be busy studying or working. Not that this seems to click with the trust fund brat that was abnormally attached to your father.

“You can’t ask for the day off? It would mean a lot to dad if you came.”

His sentence makes your chest and stomach tighten with incredulity and annoyance because it’s so out of touch with reality. You can’t even laugh or feel angry. It’s tempting to tell him that you know your dad couldn’t care less if you went to his birthday party since he hadn’t even bothered to tell you when or where it was happening. Somehow, you manage to stifle your growing ire to respond civilly.

“It’s not like he’s going to be devastated if I don’t go.” You say calmly despite wanting to express the emotions that keep gnawing at your chest.

Seokmin frowns at your impassive attitude. “Of course he’ll care. He’s still your dad—”

“Listen.” You cut him off, slamming your locker shut and finally turning your angry stare at him. “You don’t know shit. Just because he’s played the part of the perfect daddy with you for years, doesn’t mean that’s who he is. So just leave me alone before you piss me off.”

Seokmin shifts uncomfortably, wishing that he hadn’t said anything in the first place. He never meant to antagonize you despite what you’re clearly thinking. He just wants to find some common ground with you. Childishly, he believes it’ll get rid of the guilty feeling he gets every time he sees you.

“Sorry.” Seokmin whispers. “I’ll leave you alone.”

Taking out the resentment you have for your dad on Seokmin doesn’t make you feel better. Somehow you manage to feel even worse after he walks away from you. This dejecting feeling doesn’t go away even as the day goes on. It actually gets worse when you sit down at the library to study during your free period.

It feels like your mind is coming to a crashing halt after being on overdrive for months. You try to pull through even though you’re fucking exhausted. All the effort you’re putting into your studies is so you can win the Merit Scholarship that would pay for your college, and burning out at this point in time wasn’t an option. The prospect of finally piecing your life back together to the way it was before makes it a little easier to ignore the fatigue and stress that lingers in your bones.

But for some reason this day (and the universe) seemed to be working against you.

“You’re fucking lying.” The voice is familiar, but you can’t place it.

“I’m not.” Now there’s a voice you recognize. It belongs to Joshua Hong—a.k.a the evil church boy who identifies as Jeonghan’s bestie. “I was there when he did it.”

“There’s no way Yoon Jeonghan applied for the Merit Scholarship.”

Those words make you freeze. Everything around you becomes a blur as disbelief clouds your senses. Instead of your mind racing with an excess amount of thoughts, there’s only one that keeps bouncing around in your mind: Yoon Jeonghan did this on purpose.

“He turned in the application months ago.” You swear you can hear a smirk in that deviant’s voice.

“Did his family go broke or something?”

“Yeah, right.” A different voice scoffs. “His dad just donated more money to have the arts building expanded. He definitely doesn’t need that scholarship.”

There isn’t many things you can see eye-to-eye on with the snobs at your school, but that last statement is definitely one thing you can agree on. Yoon Jeonghan doesn’t need the scholarship. If you were anyone else, you would think him applying for the scholarship was some mystery with no reasonable explanation, but you know better. This was all because of your refusal to concede to him. Your actions had obviously struck a nerve with his pride, and now he was going to hit you where it hurt.

You can’t even be fully angry. Not when it’s such a well thought out scheme. Still, you feel sick and unable to keep siting still to study. So you quickly gather your stuff and leave the library without noticing the pair of eyes that are watching your every move.

Josh snorts and pulls out his phone, quickly typing a message before sending it out with a satisfied smirk on his face.

It’s done. You should’ve seen her face LMAO.

If you think you can leave school peacefully to try and feel better, you’re proven wrong when you run into Jeonghan as you’re going home.

“You’re leaving already?” He says in a sickly sweet voice as he starts walking beside you. “Maybe you should stick around and study. You won’t win the Merit Scholarship by slacking off.”

“I don’t need to try that hard to beat you.”

There’s a subtle change in Jeonghan’s eyes as he glares at you. “I wouldn’t be so sure. Don’t forget that no matter how smart you are, you’re still a nobody to the people that matter.”

Maybe you should’ve been less naive of the situation. Jeonghan was an asshole, but was also right. You just didn’t know it yet.

Jeonghan begins to bother you more often after he lets you know he wants the scholarship. The remainder of the year he constantly torments and mocks you with the help of his snobby friends. Ignoring them isn’t easy, but the thought that you won’t have to put up with them for much longer helps you power through.

Before you know it, the day the winner of the scholarship will be announced arrives.

The school has an entire ceremony dedicated to academic excellence, and you happen to be one of the students being honored. Friends and family were all encouraged to come since they were giving out multiple awards. Since Seokmin wasn’t getting an academic award, your dad didn’t bother to show up, but he did encourage you to beat Jeonghan via text. You didn’t care so much because you had your mother there, and for the first time in a long time, she seemed genuinely happy. You could see her beaming at you proudly from where she sat.

In spite of all the arguments and resentment, you were thrilled that all your hard work had paid off. Finally, you were going to get your life back. All you had to do was win the scholarship and everything else would naturally fall into place. You’re seated in the second row as the head of the foundation that provided the scholarship steps up to the podium to announce the winner.

Unfortunately, the name of the recipient for the Merit Scholarship is not yours. Maybe the blow wouldn’t have been so devastating if the name that was announced didn’t belong to Jeonghan.

That asshole is sitting in the row in front of you, and like the final killing blow he always delivers when messing with you, he turns around to give you a triumphant smirk. Anger and disappointment clash inside you as if fighting for dominance to see which one is the more prominent feeling. You can feel your hands trembling and your throat tightening. The situation is unjust and cruel, but that doesn’t seem to matter to anyone except you.

This intense feeling worsens the more the situation sinks in. You don’t even want to look at your mom because you know she’s the only person who’s more angry and humiliated than you are. Everyone is cheering and clapping, but you physically can’t join in. Pretending to be happy for someone who had quite literally just ruined your life was something even you couldn’t do.

When the ceremony is over, your mom doesn’t say anything. Her expression is grim and veiled with muted anger. It makes the nerves in your stomach coil into an uncomfortable knot as you follow her out of the auditorium. You can’t say anything as a thick silence engulfs you because you know anything you say won’t be enough to appease her anger.

“This is just fantastic.” Her words come out in the form of an insincere laugh. “I worked my ass off to send you to this damn school, and this is how you repay me?”

It’s tempting to tell her that you’re the one who worked hard to get into the school despite never wanting to step back into this world, but instead you bite your tongue. After all, there’s no point in arguing with her. No amount of rage or disappointment will change the fact that you won’t be able to afford your dream college. With your current financial situation, pursuing higher education was out of the question, and because of your loss, so was the relationship with your mother.

“After all I’ve sacrificed!?” Her angry voice seems to echo throughout the large hallway, and you can feel the lingering people start to stare. “I’ve given up my entire life for you, and you couldn’t win that damn scholarship! You lost it to Yoon Jeonghan of all people!”

“Mom.” Your voice is flat and tired. “That’s enough. People are staring.”

Pointing that out would usually be enough to get her in check, but the deranged look in her eyes tells you that her anger goes beyond any embarrassment that her behavior might cause. “You’re not even sorry, are you?” She scoffs in angry disbelief.

“Neither are you.” The words come out before you can stop them. “You never had a problem with using me as your meal ticket until I didn’t win, right?”

You hear a chorus of shocked gasps when a cold hand collides with your cheek. A stinging sensation is left behind that has a different type of anger coursing through your veins. Your hand trembles as you bring it up to hold your throbbing cheek. Angry tears pool in your eyes as you look into your mother’s remorseless eyes.

“How dare you speak to me that way?” Her voice borders on a yell. “Every single thing I’ve done has been for you and your future. If I knew you were this useless, I wouldn’t have bothered.”

Your mom brushes past you as if you’re a perfect stranger to her. As if you mean nothing to her anymore. Holding the stinging tears in your eyes is painful, but that doesn’t compare to the hurt your mom’s words left behind.

Anger and misery collide together to form a weighing pressure on your chest that makes it difficult to breathe. It feels like your throat is closing in on itself, and you wonder if it’s because of the sob you’re holding in. The heavy tears fall from the top of your lids before you can try to blink them away. It’s humiliating, but you can no longer suppress your emotions like you’d been doing the whole time.

The burning sensation in your cheek has turned into a dull ache at this point, but all you can focus on is the feelings that are eating you from the inside. You see your peers and their families gawking at you. The whispers, snickers, and pitiful glances feel like daggers cutting into you, yet all you can do is stand stolidly and cry silently.

Just when you think you can’t feel any worse, you catch sight of Jeonghan and his family walking out of the auditorium with the head of the foundation. His father is shaking hands with the man, patting him on the back like someone would do to a longtime friend. Which is exactly what the head of the foundation is to him.

Now Jeonghan’s words from before made perfect sense. You’re a fool to realize it this late. Not that it matters anymore. Everything is over now, and all you can do is walk away.

“Your dad really outdid himself.”

Jeonghan offers the girl on his arm a disinterested hum. Honestly, he’d rather to be anywhere else but the gala his dad throws every year. Magnificent as it always is, it’s so boring and draining that it feels more like work than anything. His eyes keep scanning the room for any sign of his friends—or anyone that will save him from his boredom.

“Oh my god!” Mina releases his arm from the death grip she has on it to push past him. “Is that Y/F/N!?”

Jeonghan has to pause for several reasons:

1) Hearing that name after so long makes his chest and stomach flip in the most unpleasant way. 2) It’s unlikely that this airhead heiress is talking about you, but if she is, how is it possible that she knows who you are? 3) There’s no way you would be at his dad’s gala. 4) After disappearing for three years, it doesn’t make sense that you would suddenly appear here of all places.

But when he follows Mina’s line of sight, he sees that it is you, looking more elegant and gorgeous than ever. You’re wearing a designer gown that looks like it was custom made, and you have a tall, six foot nothing piece of arm candy by your side. Even Jeonghan can’t deny that you look like a picture of perfection, and he can’t even begin to figure out why or how you’re at his dad’s gala looking like that.

“And she's with Kim Mingyu!? Oh my god, I have to get a picture—!”

Jeonghan thinks Mina is joking until he sees that she’s already halfway across the room, which is the fastest he’s seen her move all night. Maybe the champagne has gotten to his head because there’s no fucking way any of this is real right now. To his horror, his date actually makes one of his father’s business associates take the picture.

“Close your mouth.” A familiar voice orders. “It’s unbecoming.”

His mom is coldly stringent with the delivery of her words. She doesn’t look surprised, and it makes him feel sick. What the hell is going on?

“Your father invited her.” Her tone leaves no room for questions. “So act like the gentleman I raised you to be, and go say hello.”

He can’t argue because not only is he completely speechless, but also due to the fact that his mom is quick to leave him standing alone. Jeonghan knows his eyes are open wide in that angry way that makes him look like he’s crazy, but he doesn’t care. Why was everyone suddenly acting like they were in some alternate universe?

“Son.”

Jeonghan’s body goes stiff. Immediately, he straightens his expression out as he turns to face his father. He’s met with a familiarly cold expression. It makes the hairs on the back of his neck stand. There’s a thick silence that envelopes them for a brief moment before his dad begins to speak. “Get that stupid look off your face and join me to go greet our guests.”

Again, he’s left with no room to argue because his dad walks away from him. Jeonghan is quick to follow behind him, aware of the consequences that would befall him should he disobey. Much to his chagrin, he sees his date has wandered off after successfully getting a picture with you and your date. This bizarre situation paired with his father’s attitude makes Jeonghan feel like a clueless little boy all over again.

The feeling gets worse when he comes face to face with you for the first time in years.

Your pretty eyes settle on him for a brief moment that can’t even be considered a full second before they look at his father. The man on your arm—Kim Mingyu—doesn’t acknowledge him at all. Jeonghan’s jaw ticks irritably, but he keeps his composure. Something else is clearly going on, and he would never hear the end of it if he ruined his dad’s covert plans.

“Y/N! Mingyu! I’m so glad you two made time to come!” Jeonghan’s father seems like a different person as he goes to shake hands with faux elation in his voice.

“We can’t stay long.” You say with an infuriatingly perfect smile. “But you’ll have to invite us next year because the event is fabulous.”

It irritates Jeonghan that his dad seems genuinely happy at receiving your stamp of approval. He wants to shake him and ask him if he’s lost his damn mind, but he can only plaster on a fake smile of his own.

“Of course.” There’s that fake politeness again. “Surely you two have time for a drink, though?”

Hearing his dad speak the way his employees do to him is sickening, and Jeonghan has to stop himself from gagging.

“Just one.” Mingyu says with a grin so charming that Jeonghan swears he hears some of the surrounding people swoon. “S.Coups is expecting us at his album release party. I’m sure you understand.”

“Of course.” He says in an understanding tone that he would’ve never used on Jeonghan. He doesn’t get time to contemplate his dad’s out of character behavior because the older man turns to you with a smile.

“Y/N, I’m sure you remember my son, Jeonghan.” His father puts a hand on his shoulder and squeezes enough for it to hurt without making him visibly uncomfortable. “I think you two were still in high school the last time you saw each other.”

Finally, you two look each other in the face again. Your face is blank—a picture of impassive. Then, another beautiful smile graces your face. “That’s right. It’s good to see you again. How have you been?”

“I’ve been busy with school.” He hopes his smile doesn’t look as fake as it feels. “So have you, I presume?”

Jeonghan feels proud of his subtle dig until he feels his father stiffen beside him. Your smile doesn’t falter, but it does turn into an amused one as you share a look with Mingyu who doesn't bother to stifle the laugh that tumbles past his lips.

“Jeonghan.” The glare his father is giving him means he was definitely going to hear about his apparent slip up later. “You should go find Mina.”

Translation: Get lost before you embarrass me further.

“Oh. Sure.” Jeonghan tries not to feel like a scolded little boy who’s being shooed away. “It was nice to meet you, Mingyu. Nice seeing you again, Y/N.”

He’s not sure if you saying goodbye without a hint of amusement makes him feel better or worse.

The rest of the night proceeds smoothly, but Jeonghan has to leave early so he can avoid an awkward car ride back to the house with his parents. Not that it makes any difference because he can tell his dad is still very much angry at him when he gets home.

“I told you to go over the information my secretary gave you.”

His dad has a way of speaking that makes Jeonghan feel like he’s getting yelled at even though he isn’t. It makes him wish he hadn’t gotten drunk with Soonyoung instead of going over that damn binder full of names and faces. Obviously thinking he’d be able to skate by like all the other times was a severe miscalculation.

“You spend so much time on that damn phone that I thought you’d know Y/F/N and Kim Mingyu are at the top of the modeling industry right now. I’ve been trying to convince them to advertise our new cosmetic line for weeks!”

Jeonghan feels like his ears are ringing because there’s no way. He fights the urge to pull out his phone and search for confirmation. Maybe he should’ve done that when he got home instead of opening up the whiskey in his dad’s liquor cabinet.

“You said they didn’t seem offended that Jeonghan didn’t know who they were—” His mom is cut off by his dad’s angry yell.

“That doesn’t change the fact that your brilliant son still refuses to do what I ask of him!”

There’s a tense silence in the room as Jeonghan has to withstand the most scornful glare he’s gotten in his life. His father has a crazy look in his eye that makes Jeonghan feel two feet tall. “Any time they advertise a product, it sells out within days. If they refuse to endorse our products because of you—!”

“Honey,” his mother goes to her husband to placate him. “Jeonghan will apologize to them. Isn’t that right, son?”

She might not be yelling, but her voice is cold as ice, and Jeonghan is left with no room to disagree.

There’s not much that can intimidate Jeonghan, but even he has to admit that being in such foreign territory feels unnervingly daunting. After his dad’s secretary did some digging, he found out you were doing a photo shoot near his college. It’s a closed set, but luckily having the last name Yoon is like having an all access pass to pretty much any place he can think of.

This works until he tries to approach you as you’re getting your makeup touched up. Two burly men stop him from getting close, and a man who he would’ve assumed to be a model if it wasn’t for the way he was dressed stands behind them with a raised eyebrow.

“I made it clear to Lee Chan that there would be no interview.” His voice is rough and mean—something Jeonghan isn’t used to getting from anyone aside from his parents.

Jeonghan doesn’t know if he should be more offended that this guy assumed him to be of the working class or that he was being treated like someone that was beneath you. “No, that’s not—I’m a friend.”

The guy looks mildly surprised before he looks back at you. “You know this guy, Y/N?”

You look up from your phone with the same blank expression from the gala. Because you’ve acted cordial so far, Jeonghan doesn’t expect the next words to come out of your mouth. “No. I don’t.”

Jeonghan thinks about causing a scene, but then he knows that won’t help his predicament. So he lets himself be escorted off the sight, feeling more humiliated than ever. It’s unlike him to give up (not to mention that it’s not an option), which is why he waits by a car that undoubtedly belongs to you. To think that he would be reduced to go this far just to apologize to you is infuriating.

“There’s that creep from before.” Your manager frowns as you and your team are walking to the car.

You smirk, knowing what’s going to come next is going to be the highlight of your day. “It’s alright, Jihoon. He’s probably just a fan.”

Jeonghan is surprised when you gesture for him to come towards you while your team starts to get ready to leave. He clenches his jaw when he sees an arrogant smirk on your face. “Is there a reason you’re acting like a stalker and crashing my shoot?”

Insulting you is something Jeonghan wishes he had the option of doing, but he’s not willing to disappoint his father over some temporary satisfaction. After all, he only needs to give you an insincere apology and everything would be fine. So he takes a deep breath and hopes his words don’t come out sarcastic or mocking.

“I wanted to apologize for the other night.” Okay. That sounded somewhat sincere. “I didn’t know—”

“That your daddy’s been begging me to advertise his product?” You laugh. “I guess you just assumed that I married some rich guy to crawl my way up the social ladder, right?”

Shit. He has to do some damage control, and fast. “No—No. That’s not it at all...”

You wait for him to finish, but it really seems like he has nothing else to say. It’s not surprising, but it is amusing. Jeonghan still expected things to work in his favor just because of who he was, but he was in for a rude awakening. You step toward him with a vengeful smile on your face. “That apology is pathetic as you are.”

“What?” Jeonghan growls, unable to keep up this fake politeness he’s been showing you until now.

“You know, when your dad came to my agency to beg me to advertise those shitty products he came out with, I couldn’t help but think that you really are his son.” Your sneer is meaner than he remembers. “It was fun seeing him kiss my ass and offer me so much money, but you know what? I think trashing your daddy’s new product line is going to be so much more fun.”

You bump his shoulder as you walk past him, leaving him feeling like a bucket of ice cold water was dumped over his head. There was a malicious calmness in your tone that didn’t sit well with him at all.

Jeonghan quickly tries to do some damage control because even if you didn’t agree to advertise the new cosmetic line, Kim Mingyu could surely be swayed. The only problem is that he underestimated how much influence you actually have. Not only does the male model reject the apology, but he also officially declines the offer his father’s company made him.

If that wasn’t enough to piss his father off, you also decline the offer and follow it with a slanderous live that wasn’t technically slanderous under the court of law. Many comments came in about you potentially modeling for the line when you flat out said you didn’t particularly care for their products since they weren’t animal friendly and were overpriced. That caused enough backlash for the campaign ads that were underway to be halted immediately.

Despite trying to tell his parents that you never had any intention of advertising their products, he still found himself kicked out of the grand mansion he grew up in and forced to go stay at the frat house with eight other guys.

“Hold on. You know the Y/F/N!?” His friend yells after Jeonghan is done explaining why he got cut off. “You fucking traitor! How could you hide this from me when you know how much I love her?”

Jeonghan glares at Soonyoung, wanting to throttle him for only focusing on that part of the story. Also, he isn’t to blame for failing to realize the queen of the modeling industry his friend was always referring to was you.

“I still can’t believe you didn't know how famous she is.” Seungkwan says with a scoff. “She’s literally in a bunch of ads and magazines. Plus, she always walks in important fashion shows.”

Wonwoo smirks when Jeonghan pouts like a petulant child. The curiosity is eating away at him, and he feels the need to ask about something that’s not fully making sense to him. “So, you’re saying that Y/F/N did this because you’ve hated each other since you were kids?”

“She’s still not over me winning the scholarship she wanted.” Jeonghan says with a scowl. “Because of her, I have to do well on this interview so I can have some money to hold me over until I get full access to my trust next month.”

“You’re seriously going to apply for an internship at Vogue?” Soonyoung wonders with a raised eyebrow. “Won’t you be paid slave wages?”

Wonwoo and Seungkwan snicker, ignoring the glare Jeonghan throws their way. So the pay wouldn’t be great, but it was Vogue. To have an internship like that on his resume would do wonders for his career. Maybe money wasn’t the main attraction to the internship, but what he would get out of it would be worth so much more.

At least, that’s what he thinks until he’s sent to go help with a fitting for Xu Minghao’s upcoming spring collection. There’s plenty of models around who are needing minor alterations to the clothes they’re wearing, and Jeonghan has the great misfortune of handling the alterations needed for your dress.

Aside from you laughing at the fact that he’s literally on his knees, adjusting the hemline of the dress you have on, there’s nothing out of the ordinary. Until he accidentally pokes you with the needle, that is. The ow you let out isn’t overly loud, but it is enough to grab the attention of Xu Minghao and Jeonghan’s direct supervisor.

“Y/N, darling, what’s wrong?” Minghao asks you, grabbing your hands as he eyes you up and down.

“Nothing. I—I just thought you’d have interns who are capable of not poking the models when they do the alterations.” You say with a slight grimace, knowing exactly what pulls at the designer’s heart strings.

Jeonghan receives two withering glares, and before the day is over he no longer has a job.

Exacting your revenge was one of the greatest feelings you’d ever felt. The outcome of your actions was more than justified, but your manager didn’t seem to think so. Your behavior confused him because he never knew you to be so spiteful to someone who simply made a mistake.

“Are you gonna tell me what’s going on between you and that intern you got fired?”

You look up from the newly posted pictures from the Armani show that you closed last week. Jihoon’s eyes are still fixed on the road, but he’s always had this annoying skill for seeing right through you without even looking at you. There’s no use in lying to him—not that you were planning to. You just thought you’d have a little more time to enjoy your revenge before telling the only person who knew about your past with that trust fund brat.

“That intern is Yoon Jeonghan.”

Jihoon’s eyes widen when he hears the name of the person you despise the most in the world. He looks at the rear view mirror to see that you’re back to staring at your phone. He quickly focuses back on the road, grip tightening on the steering wheel.

“Oh.” He murmurs, unsure of what to say. “The same guy who—?”

He cuts himself off, but you know what he was about to say. The same guy who ruined your life? You don’t bother to finish the sentence for him.

“The very one.”

It’s silent for a moment before Jihoon speaks again. “Don’t you think you went a little too far?”

You don’t look up, but he notices the tightening of your jaw. The pause you take isn’t long, but it feels that way. “He has a trust fund to fall back on unlike me who had nothing when my mom kicked me out for not winning the scholarship he stole from me.”

Jihoon doesn’t say anything. You’re speaking about the worst moment of your life so casually that anyone would think it doesn’t bother you anymore, but he knows the truth.

“Did you hear back from the agency?” You ask, not wanting to keep talking about the past.

“Yeah. They don’t mind you going to classes for this semester as long as you still do the Marc Jacobs show in Milan and the Versace show in Paris.”

“I also promised Jun I’d do his New York show.” You mention with a victorious smile.

Jihoon hums in acknowledgment. He’s not against the idea of you taking your college classes in person for a semester, but he wonders if it will be okay.

As usual, your manager was right to worry.

Weeks of your college experience go by without any problems. During that time you didn’t notice that Jeonghan had been watching you. He didn’t follow you around or anything like that, but he had observed you long enough to notice that you were oddly attached to your laptop that looked like it was in need of a serious upgrade. And he knows. That’s the ticket to his revenge. So he patiently waits for his chance to grab that ticket.

It takes some convincing (a large sum of money) for Jeonghan to get his English professor to pair you with him for the upcoming project. All he needs to do is get that laptop from you to get the revenge he craves.

You, on the other hand, couldn’t be more angry. Never mind the fact that there was this perpetual animosity between you and your partner. Jeonghan was also one of the most idiotic people you had ever met. Carrying him on this project was the last thing you wanted to do.

“Don’t expect me to do all the work. I don’t care if have photo shoots or whatever. Make sure you know the material.”

You almost let out an incredulous scoff at his audacity, but instead you just give him an arrogant smile. “I think you forget that you’re the one who always lost to me when it came to academics.”

Jeonghan gives you smug smirk of his own. “And yet I’m the one who won the Merit Scholarship.”

For the first time since he’s seen you again, your arrogant expression falters. He’s not allowed to enjoy the dumb look on your face because you’re quick to smooth it out as if you weren’t slighted by his comment. It’s almost amazing how quickly you manage to cover up your expression.

“Please.” You scoff, trying not to yell at him in the middle of the library. “Your daddy bought that for you just like everything else you have. Too bad intelligence is something that even he can’t afford to get you.”

Jeonghan looks like he did all those years ago on your first day of senior year. His expression is so funny that you can’t help but laugh at him. Your mellifluous laughter catches the attention of some of the people sitting not too far from you who happened to be apparent fans of yours. The pair doesn’t hesitate to walk over to your table and ask for a picture.

You stand up and pose with each of them with that friendly smile you give to everyone except Jeonghan. While your back is turned, he sees your laptop slightly sticking out of your bag. It’s almost too easy to the grab the device and stick it in his own bag. He does it with a precision and smoothness that takes even him by surprise.

As soon as you’re done, you turn back to see Jeonghan gathering the books on the table, bag already slung over his shoulder like he’s ready to leave.

“What the hell? You’re leaving?” You say, annoyed that he was already not pulling his weight this early on.

“I have things to do.” Jeonghan says with a shrug. “I’ll text you later to let you know when I’m free to meet up.”

He leaves you frowning and unaware that he took the single most important item you own.

It’s not until you get back home that you realize your laptop is missing. You panic, practically tearing the house apart trying to find it. Every moment of the day flashes through your mind because you did have a tendency to forget things. It was the reason why Jihoon was responsible for handling most of your personal items when you did shoots.

Jihoon. You think as you search your room for the third time. He’s going to be so disappointed and angry.

The contents in the laptop isn’t what you’re worried about, but the laptop itself. Jihoon bought it for you after he convinced your agency that taking online classes would not affect your work. It meant so much to you because he was the only person who knew how much you had wanted to go to college despite not being able to after you graduated high school.

You’re nearly in tears after realizing that you really had lost it. Even if you went back to the campus early in the morning, it would take you forever to look for it in all the places you’d been to. Just as you’re about to call Jihoon to tell him what happened, you get a text from the last person you want to hear from.

Jeonghan sent a picture of himself holding your most prized possession with an infuriating message attached to it: You’ll get your laptop back if come to my party tonight and take a picture with my friend.

It’s a trap. You know it is. And yet, you still find yourself at the address you were given by the devil incarnate. The frat house is loud and full of people who don’t seem to care or notice who you are. Not that you mind. You only hope Jeonghan doesn’t make things difficult and gives you your laptop right away.

“Y/N!” The deviant yells your name when you finally find him.

Jeonghan is clearly drunk, holding your precious laptop close to him as he drinks some cheap beer. You keep a level head, knowing he just wants a reaction out of you. “Where’s your friend?”

Straight to the point, as always. Jeonghan smirks and whispers something to the boy next to him. His friend disappears into the crowd and returns with someone else minutes later. It’s a cute guy with shining eyes and an adorable smile.

“I love you.” He blurts once he sees you, a blush suffusing his entire face. “You’re so pretty and amazing—!”

He’s drunk, you can tell, but he also seems sincere. It makes you think maybe that rat Jeonghan has actually done this as some twisted way to make his friend’s wish come true. Even if that’s not the case, you could never be mean to someone who supports you—even if that person is friends with someone like Jeonghan.

“Let’s take a picture.” You say with a smile that’s surprisingly easy to conjure.

Naively, you think that Jeonghan will give you the thing you cherish the most after you comply to his wishes. After his friend leaves, he makes no move to give you your laptop. You should’ve expected it, but it still infuriates you.

“I can’t believe you actually came and did what I asked. It makes me wonder what you're hiding in here.” Jeonghan slurs with a smirk that makes you want to throttle him. “I bet you regret acting the way you have.”

You know he’s talking about the things you’ve done to him as soon as you saw him again, and you resist the urge to scream at him that this is nothing compared to what he did to you. Both of you are too focused on each other to see the camera aimed at the rapidly unfolding fight.

“Just give it back, idiot.” You seethe, trying to keep your composure because things are on the verge of getting messy.

“I’m surprised that top model Y/F/N still has this shitty model. Maybe you should think about upgrading.”

Jeonghan laughs again and tauntingly holds out your laptop. As you step forward to grab it, the sleek device slips out of his hand. Everything seems to go in slow motion as you watch the laptop hit the floor and break open. The screen completely detached from the keyboard, and despite being turned off, you can see the cracks that covered half the screen.

You can hear laughter and immature ohs filling up the space. All rational thoughts are ejected from your mind as you grab a cup from a random party-goer and throw it in Jeonghan’s face. The crowd seems to go wild, but that’s not what you’re focused on. Jeonghan doesn’t look shocked or angry. In fact, he looks a lot like the cat who ate the canary.

You realize too late that the guy from before is pointing his phone at you. There’s a sinking feeling in your stomach, but you easily mask your panic and go to pick up the pieces of your broken laptop. The night ends with you running out of the house and a video of you throwing beer in Jeonghan’s face being uploaded for the world to see.

This leaves Jeonghan feeling very pleased with himself.

When he first found out you were going to attend the college he worked so hard to make sure you didn’t get into, it felt like he was living in his worst nightmare. But now with you getting backlash for throwing beer in his face, he’s never felt better. His parents had even reached out to him to get dinner and discuss him moving back in.

“I’m literally never talking to you again.” Soonyoung glares at him with deep resentment. “How could you use me to set up Y/F/N? She probably hates me now.”

Jeonghan rolls his eyes as Seungkwan sympathetically pats his friend on the back. “Don’t worry. I’m sure she hates Jeonghan way more.”

Wonwoo snorts while Soonyoung’s pout gets more sulky by the second. While anyone could agree that Jeonghan’s actions were petty and borderline sociopathic, most of the frat was just glad to have him go back to normal. His temperament had been exponentially worse since you decided to finish the semester in person.

The victory, however, is short-lived.

Two days after the video Jeonghan’s frat brother initially posted, you post a video of your own. The caption was nothing short of absolving: Guess he’s mad I didn’t want to endorse the products his daddy tests on animals.

It’s a factor Jeonghan didn’t consider. Someone else had filmed the entire thing from the part where he’s taunting you about your laptop to the part where he so clearly drops it on purpose and you react by throwing beer in his face. It’s almost comedic how fast public opinion changes. The stocks to his father’s company plummet not even a full hour after you post the video, and Jeonghan is getting way more backlash than you did.

When he sees his dad blowing up his phone, he knows this is the final nail in the coffin that will sever the ties with his family.

Meanwhile, you’re not holding up much better. In spite of managing to spin the situation in your favor, your agency is still displeased that you were involved in a scandal at all. Not to mention that Jihoon is clearly disappointed in you. It’s to be expected since he’s the one who helped you convince everyone that taking classes in person wouldn’t be a problem.

“You told me you didn’t want anything to do with Yoon Jeonghan.” Jihoon reminds you two stand in your living room. “Why did you go there in the first place when you’re the one always saying he's some sort of evil mastermind?”

You frown at him, feeling tears of frustration begin to gather in your eyes. “He took the laptop you gave me! How could I let him keep it when you bought it on the salary you had back then?”

Jihoon’s features soften instantly. He lets out a deep sigh and pulls you into his arms. So that’s why. Even he had failed to remember how much that old laptop meant to you. It makes him smile as you quietly sniffle into his shoulder. Jihoon thinks back to when he bought you the laptop and how grateful you had been. He can still remember clearly how you told him that he was the only person to ever believe in your dreams.

“I’m sorry.” He says as he gently pats your back. “I forgot how much that laptop means to you, but I’ll buy you a new one, okay? I should’ve gotten you a new one a long time ago, anyway. Thanks to you and Mingyu, my salary has increased.”

Even after he gets a tearful laugh, Jihoon wonders if going to college is really what’s best for you. He’s the last person who would want to stop you from chasing your real dream, but he can’t shake the feeling that your war with Yoon Jeonghan is far from over.

Jeonghan is an easy going guy who can laugh at his own misfortune, but he really doesn’t see the humor in you single-handedly ruining his life. His friends disagree. Especially Josh, who came down to visit him after years of being abroad.

“I don’t know why you’re acting all surprised. If I was Y/N, I’d try to ruin your life too.” Josh says before he takes a bite of his food. “Actually, I’m surprised that she didn’t try sooner. Especially after what happened at the awards ceremony.”

Soonyoung and Seungkwan’s curiosity is piqued upon hearing that last statement. They lean forward, abandoning all interest in the exquisite food in front of them. In the rendition of Jeonghan’s backstory of the supermodel that hates him, there was no mention of an awards ceremony.

“What happened at the awards ceremony?” Wonwoo asks immediately, not understanding why Jeonghan genuinely looks like he doesn’t know what Josh is talking about.

The atmosphere has quickly changed, and Jeonghan can’t figure out why Josh is making that day seem like it was something more than it was. But there was this feeling in the pit of his stomach that kept growing bigger and bigger. Had something else happened that he didn’t know about?

Josh notices the tense silence that’s suddenly surrounding the table and clears his throat. “I mean, technically, Jeonghan is the one who plotted to ruin Y/N’s life first. He’s the reason her mom went all psycho on her at our end of the year awards ceremony.”

The silence from before gets thicker and more uncomfortable the longer it lasts. Jeonghan looks like he’s just heard some life altering revelation while Josh is looking as clueless as the rest of the boys.

“Wait—” Josh puts down his fork, eyes wide with disbelief. “Why are you acting like you don’t know?”

“I...” Jeonghan swallows thickly. All he remembers from that day is that vacant expression you had on your face when he won the scholarship. The one that still makes him feel like someone is reaching inside his chest and squeezing his heart.

“So what exactly happened?” Seungkwan asks since his friend can’t seem to even think straight.

“We were all mean to her.” Josh admits with a sigh. “I mean, she’s the daughter of a failed businessman, plus she had beef with Hannie since birth. It was too easy to give her shit and fuck with her.”

His friends are uncharacteristically quiet, and it’s so uncomfortable that Jeonghan just wants to die. But not before he hears about what Josh meant about the awards ceremony.

“When Jeonghan found out she applied for the Merit Scholarship, he applied for it too. His dad is friends with the guy who was head of the scholarship foundation, so of course he was going to get it. We all thought it’d be pretty funny to see how her parents would react when she lost.”

Jeonghan’s friends give him very judgmental stares that he honestly deserves.

“But I didn't get to.” Jeonghan recalls quietly. “Y/N and her mom left the auditorium right after, and I had to stay behind to take a bunch of pictures for the school’s newsletter.”

There’s another tense silence where Joshua looks like he has some sort of dilema. He wonders if telling Jeonghan after so long is only going to make things worse.

“You said Y/N’s mom went all psycho on her.” Wonwoo says. “How is that Jeonghan’s fault?”

“Aside Y/N would’ve gotten that scholarship if it wasn’t for Jeonghan, her mom was mad because she lost to him in particular. As soon as they got outside she started yelling at her about how useless she was. She even slapped her in front of everyone and basically disowned her."

“Damn.” Is all Soonyoung is able to say before turning to Jeonghan. “I would hate you too.”

Jeonghan can’t say anything because he’s thinking the exact same thing.

After a very eye-opening lunch, Jeonghan realizes now that you won’t stop your revenge until you’ve completely destroyed him. This sends him into a panic and makes him come up with a plan that will hopefully knock you down a few pegs.

Jeonghan enlists the help of your stepbrother, Seokmin. Unbeknownst to maybe the kindest guy he’s ever met, he helps Jeonghan lure not only you, but also your dad to the silent auction your university is hosting. Getting you two to arrive at the same times is a bit tricky, but Jeonghan manages to pull it off after telling Seokmin to give your father a certain time.

All Jeonghan has to do is linger by the entrance and wait for you to arrive. Which you do, and in a beautiful dress, no less. It’s almost a pity that your night is going to be ruined in approximately five seconds. He’s far enough for you to not notice him yet and close enough to hear your father call out to you from behind.

“Y/N.”

You freeze at the sound of your name being spoken. It had been years, but you would never forget that voice. You turn around slowly, feeling an onslaught of emotions hit you like a truck when you see your father standing in front of you.

There’s a tension between you and your father that Jeonghan recognizes immediately. For some reason, it makes him feel uncomfortable rather than satisfied. He's not sure why that is, but he can't stop watching. It’s unexpected because despite knowing that you were estranged from him, he didn’t expect it to be like this.

“How have you been?” Your father is hesitant in his movements as he steps closer to you.

You hate feeling the way you currently do; like a little girl who’s powerless in front of her father. The feeling is worse because he’s staring at you like he never abandoned you to start another life that didn’t involve you.

“You’ve seen the articles.” You reply coldly. “Don’t pretend like you don’t know.”

The tense atmosphere affects even Jeonghan, and he can’t help but start to feel a little regret because this is not what he had in mind at all. It’s not funny nor does it satiate the vengeful side you always brought out in him. Right now, the situation feels like some sort of erroneous event that should’ve never happened in the first place.

“I was pleased to see what you’ve done to the Yoon family.” He genuinely sounds proud, but you’re not twelve years old anymore so it doesn’t mean anything to you. All it does is make you feel sick. “Honestly, I never thought you’d be able to do it. You surprised me.”

Jeonghan can’t laugh. It should be funny, but it's not. Your father is giving you a back-handed compliment despite being one of the top models in the industry and someone who has the potential to be a global star. Instead of that sweet feeling he’s always gotten from messing with you, all he feels is disgust.

“I’m sure your mom is pleased as well.” He says awkwardly after you don’t say anything. “How is she, by the way?”

The last thing you want to talk about is her, but his ignorance to the feelings you harbor for your mom actually makes you scoff in bewilderment. Emotions you thought you’d gotten rid of long ago start to push at the surface and gather at the center of your chest. You hate that you can’t shove them away and pretend they’re not affecting you the way they are.

Jeonghan flinches when your next words come out in the phonic form of ice. “You know I haven’t talked to her since she kicked me out of her house.”

There’s this long pause where the entire vicinity seems to have gone as cold as your voice. The candor of your words make Jeonghan’s jaw drop. An intense discomfort seeps into his veins and strikes him right in the chest. The story Joshua told him is undoubtedly true, and now he’s starting to realize he was the one who put that domino effect into place.

“I would’ve helped you if you let me—”

Your dad stops talking when you start laughing. It’s not a joyful or amused laugh. It’s cold and resentful. You almost can’t believe the audacity that your father has. His selective memory has always pissed you off, but now he was crossing the line.

“Why are you here?” You demand, unwilling to prolong this unexpected encounter. “This is an alumni event.”

“Seokmin invited me.” His answer shouldn’t have disappointed you, but for some infuriating reason it still did. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

There’s so many things that you want to say. All these years you thought about how it would all play out if you saw him again, but now that it’s actually happening, you can’t say anything that you wanted to.

“The actions you’ve taken against the Yoon family have impressed me so far.” He says like you’ll be happy about his praise. “I thought it would be appropriate to say this to you. That’s all.”

When you see that familiar contempt and unimpressed expression on your father’s face, you can’t help but think that you should’ve never left your house to come out. The figure in your peripheral vision hasn’t moved, and you can only assume he’s waiting for you to react the way he wants.

The silence that looms is tense and uncomfortable. Even Jeonghan can feel it from where he’s watching. It’s strange. The scene in front of him should be satisfying, but it’s not. Not even close.

“What is it that you want to say, then?”

“I know for a fact that Yoon Jeonghan is planning to use a large part of his trust to buy your rival agency. I’ll loan you a substantial amount of money to counter that offer and steal it from him.”

Now, there’s not much that can catch Jeonghan off guard, but what the fuck. His intentions and deals were strictly confidential. How was it possible that your father knew?

“I’m sure you know the reason this chance is so important.”

That anticlimactic moment makes Jeonghan pause. He vaguely recognizes the sick feeling in his stomach as one of realization. The scene in front of him was nothing more then a distorted reflection of his own relationship with his father.

In the time he hadn’t seen you, you’d gotten good at schooling your reactions, but now anyone can see how helpless you feel. That expression reminds him of how he felt when his own father told him to buy the agency and find a model that was capable of taking the crown you’ve had for the last two years. It was never about Jeonghan’s happiness, it was all about his dad’s vanity and ego. He could see now that was still the case for you as well.

“You want me to humiliate him and his family one more time.”

Your father smirks. “Now you’re getting it. You need to prove to everyone—especially that boy and his family—that you’ve always been better.”

All the things you’ve done to Jeonghan come to the forefront of your mind and you suddenly feel more sick and disgusted than ever. This entire time you inadvertently pushed your obsessive father’s agenda because you were still angry about something that happened years ago. There’s this tight knot in your throat that suddenly makes it hard to speak, but you manage anyway.

“When are you going to stop using me for your petty rivalry?” You demand angrily. “I’m not going to be the kind of person who steps on other people for no reason.”

Your father scoffs, furious eyes filled with disappointment. “No reason?”

His laughter that follows is cold and manic. “You think this is just about my dislike for that family? No. This is about who you’re going to turn out to be. Are you going to be weak? Swayed by every sob story that crosses your path? How do you expect to take over my company if you’re so spineless?”

Jeonghan doesn’t feel any satisfaction like he expects. Instead he feels this ugly, jagged feeling deep in his chest. He feels like he's watching some sort of reenactment of him and his own father.

“Don’t forget. I have no use for such a pathetic daughter.”

The silence feels like it’s going to last forever, and in the stillness, Jeonghan feels sorry for you. This entire time he had been so stuck on his own turmoil that he forgot you were also the verge of being crushed by the weight of your family’s expectations. Just like his own father, your dad clearly had no regard for anyone’s feelings—even his own child’s. The test of time hadn’t changed him at all. Unfortunately, the same could be said for his father. It was disheartening to know that you were both nothing more than pawns in their childish game of revenge.

“That’s funny because right now the pathetic one is you.” Jeonghan feels oddly proud at how cutthroat you sound right now. “Don’t act like that company is something you can give away, you know, since it belongs to your wife and not you.”

Your truthful words finally manage to silence him, but you can’t stop there. “Plus, I know you’d rather give everything you have to Seokmin anyway, right? I mean, he is the son you’ve always wanted.”

“Don’t blame him for my mistakes, Y/N.”

“God—When are you going to open your fucking eyes and realize I don’t blame anyone else but you!?” You suddenly yell, unable to keep stifling your feelings.

It’s quiet for a moment before your father speaks again, his voice cold and calculating. “What about the Yoon family? Don’t you blame them? Aren’t they the ones who crushed your dreams?”

Jeonghan holds his breath despite knowing your answer. Of course you did. There was no way you didn’t. If the roles were reversed, he would, too.

You did blame that fucking family for a lot, but never for what your parents did to you. They had nothing to do with the fact that your mom and dad aren’t worthy of being parents. Also, if you truly thought back on it (which you had—countless times), your parents were the one who destroyed your dreams before anyone else could.

“Why would I blame anyone else for what you and your ex wife did to me? You two are the ones who decided I was useless because I couldn’t get you back to where you wanted to be.” You say, voice void of any perceptible emotion.

The silence is thick and heavy with tension. You swallow thickly and belatedly remember that you’re being watched. By this time, you imagine Jeonghan has enough material to humiliate you accordingly, but you’re too fucking exhausted to care. The petty actions you’ve taken so far were justified in your eyes, but even so, you wish you had just let it go. Talking to the man who abandoned you and only came looking for you when he deemed you as useful let you see that.

“Just leave.” Dad. You almost say it like he’s worthy of being that. “Do what you want with this sick obsession you have with the Yoon family, but leave me out of it because I’m done being used for your petty revenge.”

Your father scoffs. “I knew you didn’t have what it takes. I’ll go, but I’ll leave you with this: Yoon Jeonghan’s father knows his son will stop at nothing to destroy you. He was bragging about how his son was going to ruin you with this agency he’s going to buy. Think about that next time you want to be the better person.”

With that, he walks away from you, possibly for the last time.

Despite feeling numb, there’s still angry tears poking the back of your eyes. You let out a shaky sigh, knowing now isn’t the time to cry like you want. “Are you going keep hiding in the shadows like you didn’t set this up?”

Jeonghan’s blood runs cold, and for a moment he contemplates on running. He’s not exactly sure how you found out or even knew that he was watching, but there was no point in pretending. As usual, you knew everything.

You turn around, face still a mess of emotions. Two hours before, you might’ve cared about losing face in front of Jeonghan, but that was no longer the case. No matter what actions he took against you after this, you were done feeding into this game. As soon as the semester was over, you were going back to your normal life and leave behind all these shitty memories.

The expression on your face is eerily similar to the one from when he took your scholarship—a look of defeated resignation. Jeonghan figures that he gets a similar expression on his face when he fights with his dad. That suffocated look is one he knows all too well.

“You’re not going to say anything?”

Jeonghan is reminded of that first day of senior year when he saw you again. In that split second as you're gazing at him with crystal-like tears shining in your pretty eyes, he makes a decision.

“Be my girlfriend.”

His words hang in the air, and you can only look at Jeonghan like he’s lost his mind. You two stare at each other, until you finally manage to form some words through your bewilderment. “What? What are you—?”

“Be my girlfriend.” He says with more conviction. “And help me get revenge on our parents.”

You blink, feeling more confused than ever. Briefly, you wonder if the intensity of your emotions has driven you into some sort of delirium. Either that, or Jeonghan really has lost his mind.

“Don’t look at me like that.” He actually pouts at you. “You said you were done being used by your dad. I feel the same way. I’m tired of only being useful for their sick obsession.”

Maybe it’s the exhaustion you feel from all the emotions you’ve ran dry or maybe it’s because the little snake actually sounds convincing, but either way you agree.

“Fine, but I have conditions.”

Realistically, Jeonghan knew that (fake) dating you wouldn’t be easy, but he never expected to be put on blast like he has been—least of all by you. He’s waiting outside your last class, trying to pretend like he’s not furious.

“Angel face.” Jeonghan’s smile is deceptively calm and pretty. “We need to talk.”

You grimace at him as he loops his arm through yours and begins walking you out of the building towards his sleek car. “Yeah, we do because what the hell is that pet name? It makes you sound like some middle-aged creep.”

Jeonghan laughs stiffly, not wanting to attract the wrong kind of attention. People were already skeptical about your relationship, and he couldn’t let his brilliant plan fail before it got to the good part. He manages to keep his cool and even opens the passenger door for you, gently stroking your head as you get in. It’s almost annoying how good he is at acting affectionate.

“You’re breaking your own rules.” Jeonghan scowls as he starts the car.

You already know he’s talking about your interview that went public an hour ago. His deep frown makes you smirk. “Don’t be mad at me, angel face.”

Jeonghan’s annoyance is oddly soothed by your cute laughter, and he briefly wonders if he’s starting to go insane. His friends would likely tell him that he is. Meanwhile, you’re also wondering if you’re going insane because the surly pout Jeonghan has on his face isn’t as off-putting as it usually is.

“I did what was necessary for the plan.” You explain, trying not to sound like you’re mocking him. “Now everyone likes us together. See?”

Jeonghan finally looks at your phone when he gets to a stoplight. Even just skimming the comments under the article, he can see the tides beginning to shift in his favor. He looks back at the road with a pout. Sure, everything was in the name of revenge, but he wasn’t sure if the humiliation was worth it.

“I guess, but... I don’t think you had to say that I cried while begging for your forgiveness.”

You give him an annoyed look. “Honestly, that’s the least you could do to repent for everything that you’ve done to me. Just consider yourself lucky that I let everything slide due to our mutual need to get revenge.”

Jeonghan scoffs, but says nothing else the entire time he drives to the restaurant he’s been dying to eat at for weeks. The reservation he made two weeks ago was at the beginning of next month, but you had managed to get one within minutes. It was one of the most exclusive restaurants in the city, and he had heard nothing but good things.

Your hands slips into his easily as you two walk into the two MICHELIN star restaurant. Jeonghan tries not to think about how holding your soft hand doesn’t feel as uncomfortable as he thought it would. Instead he focuses on the extravagant interior of the restaurant. He’s seen the pictures online, but they didn’t capture the essence of the place at all.

He notices the looks you’re getting from the staff when you say your last name to the hostess. Unlike the attention you get at school, the other guests and staff are subtle with the looks they’re giving you as you two are guided into the restaurant. It’s a different type of uncomfortable, but Jeonghan notices that you don’t seem to be fazed by it at all.

“Hannie.” You call so affectionately that Jeonghan has to stop himself from gaping at you. “I booked one of the tables on the balcony, I hope you don’t mind.”

“No.” He says, feeling like he’s in a trance as you look at him with those pretty eyes of yours.

As you two near the balcony, he sees the group of people sitting at one of the tables. Your hand tightens around his, but your face remains clean of any emotions. Jeonghan isn’t sure why he softly caresses your thumb in a comforting way. Maybe it’s because he knows that despite wanting revenge, executing it didn’t mean all the unpleasant feelings that came with seeing your father would magically go away.

“How’d you know he’d be here?” Jeonghan wonders after you two are seated.

You hum softly, thinking of a way to say something so deprecating without sounding completely pitiful. Eventually, you decide you don’t need to be so cautious because Jeonghan has already seen all the ugly parts of your life you never wanted anyone to see.

“It’s his birthday, today.” Your gaze flickers past his shoulder for a split second. “He always has this intimate dinner with his family before throwing his actual party. Seokmin mentioned that he wanted to have the dinner here this year.”

Jeonghan doesn’t have time to process how detached you seem because you give him a wicked smirk. “I know you can’t see, but he looks fucking livid right now.”

He’s not sure why he feels relieved when you start laughing like you weren’t feeling suffocated a few seconds ago. It makes him wonder if you’re aware that he can still tell what you’re feeling. Jeonghan had an innate talent for it since childhood, and now it seemed to be more fine-tuned than ever.

“Then, should we take it a step further?”

You give him a questioning gaze. The confusion you feel slowly turns into an emotion that feels somewhat familiar yet foreign all at the same time. It’s something you can’t pinpoint or name, but it’s definitely there as Jeonghan puts a velvet box on the table. Something inside your chest jerks when you realize that he went out and bought you a gift to help you get the reaction you were looking for.

Jeonghan slides the box over to you, a cocky smirk on his face. “Open it, darling. I’m sure you’ll love it.”

You don’t comment on the pet name (especially since you like it way better than the other one) as you do what he says. The box contains a beautiful necklace that looks like it could be from a man in love (or one set on getting revenge).

“It’s beautiful.” You say with a smile as the feeling in your chest jerks again. “Want to put it on me?”

Jeonghan immediately stands from his seat and walks around the table. He’s good at keeping his eyes trained on you, but out of the corner of his eye he can see the three heads clearly staring in the direction of your table. Jeonghan takes the necklace from the box and bends down to clip it into place. Your scent invades his senses, and it makes it way too easy to admire the way the diamonds shine against your skin.

You feel soft lips press against your cheek before gentle words are whispered into your ear. “It suits you just like I knew it would.”

There’s a loud thumping in the air that only you two can seem to hear.

Jeonghan’s hands are holding on to your shoulders as you look up at him. The thumping seems to get louder. “Thank you for my gift, love.”

On impulse more than anything, your (fake) boyfriend swoops down to press a lingering kiss on your lips. He pulls back, feeling an awkward warmth crawling up his neck. You don’t look surprised or disgusted, instead you give him a fond smile that seems more genuine the longer he looks at it. Jeonghan takes his seat again, the infuriated man tables behind you long forgotten by either of you.

There’s a shift in your relationship that night. It’s subtle, but it’s there. Neither you nor Jeonghan really take notice. All you two are aware of is that playing pretend isn’t as awful as you both thought it would be. Expectedly, you scheming deviants have the time of your life playing with this new dynamic there is between you.

Jeonghan has become overly familiarized with your apartment by now. He’s waiting on your nice couch, watching as your team finishes working on your hair and makeup. It’s interesting to see just how much effort goes into looking absolutely flawless for all the cameras. Before this, he didn’t realize certain types of makeup and hair styles photographed better.

“Flawless as always!” Your makeup artist squeals as he takes videos and pictures to document his handiwork.

You don’t look exhausted physically, but Jeonghan still worries that you might already be drained. He knows he would be, especially because your manager keeps reminding you of all the people you need to get a photo with and at what time you need to be home by because you have two different shoots in the morning.

Jeonghan watches silently as your stylist follows you to your room to help you put on the custom dress Wen Junhui has made especially for you to wear to the new Givenchy pop-up shop opening. From what you’ve said, it’s supposed to match the suit he has on—which was also custom made for him by the famous designer.

When you step back into the living room wearing the fitted dress, Jeonghan feels like he’s staring at a living goddess. He can’t take his eyes off you as Jihoon snaps some photos of you. Being starstruck is something he didn’t think was actually possible, but now he understands why Soonyoung still can’t act normal when he brings you around.

“You look amazing.” Jeonghan says breathlessly, still completely entranced by your appearance.

“So do you. I’ll have to give Jun my thanks for making us the hottest couple at this event.”

After a few pictures together for your socials, you two set off to the pop-up shop. The event is expectedly large and grand. So many important people had gathered, but he only cared about the one person who he knew would be there. Jeonghan is quick to spot his father. Ironically, he’s talking with the man who designed the suit he's wearing.

You’re only a little taken aback when Jeonghan wraps his arms around you while you’re talking to a newcomer model you met last year during fashion week. It’s all you can do to keep talking normally as he rests his chin on your shoulder. His hands gently caress the material of your dress. He’s pressing himself closer to you like he wants to mold your bodies together.

When you’re finally left alone, you turn your head to give him a questioning look. You only get a pleased expression in return. The adorably goofy look makes your heart flutter with unwarranted affection.

“I’m clingy.” Jeonghan says bluntly. “And as my girlfriend, you’re obligated to indulge me.”

Your laugh is airy and filled with endearment because honestly, you don’t hate the faux affection. His embrace isn’t uncomfortable. Oddly, it makes the usual anxiousness you get at these events melt away. It’s only an added bonus to what you actually came by to get.

His father looks a lot like yours did. It’s almost funny because it takes less than a second after he sees you two together for him to come over and demand to speak to his son alone. You almost decline for Jeonghan, but you stop yourself when you remember the clause that states neither of you will interfere with family matters other than indirectly making them angry with your relationship.

Your (fake) boyfriend isn’t gone for long, but he’s clearly upset. Instead of letting it visibly show, he indulges in more champagne and mingling. It’s only when he starts slurring his words that you decide it’s time to go.

You're not sure why you don’t take him back to his frat house. It would’ve been easier and less of a hassle, but you found yourself unwilling to part with Jeonghan when he was clearly so distraught and incoherent. You force feed him water before laying him down in your guest bedroom.

“My dad’s such an asshole.” Jeonghan sighs, arm thrown over his eyes as you take off his shoes for him.

You hum in agreement, finally looking back at his face. His cheeks and neck are suffused with color, and you wonder what exactly his father said to make him this upset. It makes you wonder if he was starting to regret doing this entire thing with you.

“Don’t think about him anymore.” You whisper, not sure why that last thought is so upsetting. “Just get some sleep, okay?”

You go to get up, but are stopped by a gentle hand wrapping around your wrist. Jeonghan has moved his arm and is now looking directly at you. His eyes are shining with so many emotions that you recognize, but somehow can’t seem to decipher enough to tell what exactly he’s feeling. The intensity of his stare makes somehow makes you feel exposed.

“Stay with me.” His voice is more vulnerable than you expect. “Please.”

It’s like your legs move on their own as they sit you back at his side. He doesn’t make a move to let go of your wrist and you don’t think to shake off his touch. The silence is full of unspoken words, and you only wait for him to say what’s clearly bothering him.

“I don’t hate you.”

His words are surprising, mostly because they’re something you never thought you’d hear. Jeonghan doesn’t give you a chance to say anything because he keeps talking. “I don’t know why, but I can’t hate you the way I’m supposed to.” His gaze goes to the ceiling as if he’s trying to sort out all the thoughts you can see running through his mind. “I never could.”

“I don’t hate you either.” You tell him honestly.

“But I ruined your life.” Jeonghan frowns as if he’s recalling every horrible thing he ever did to you.

“I ruined yours.” You counter lightheartedly.

Jeonghan laughs a bit and closes his eyes. “Hope you can forgive me for real someday.”

He starts snoring before you can tell him that you already have.

“They look so cute together.”

This phrase was one Jeonghan got used to hearing since you two started dating, and he hates it. Not because it’s unpleasant to hear (it’s not), but because half the time that phrase was being used to describe you and Kim Mingyu. The two girls in his financial analysis class are squealing about your most recent photo shoot which included some shots with your model friend.

“Jealousy is not a good look on you.” Seungkwan laughs when he sees the look on his friend's face.

Jeonghan only rolls his eyes and pretends that Seungkwan’s words don’t affect him the way they do. Because there’s no way he’s jealous. How could he be jealous of someone that was nothing more than a coworker? And there's no reason for him to be jealous even if that wasn’t the case because he doesn’t have any feelings for you.

At least, that’s what he tells himself when you tell him you’re going to have to reschedule your weekly dinner because of that stupidly tall model everyone ships you with. Instead of letting it go like he should’ve done, Jeonghan reminds you that having dinner out in public once a week is part of your deal.

It’s almost cute the way he does it. Jeonghan says it like a whiny child that’s begging for attention. So you promise him to meet him the next day, but he’s not having it. Jeonghan insists that you come to his frat’s party after you’re done. Which you do, and you don’t know what to think on what you stumble on. Jeonghan is absolutely hammered, but he’s also really happy to see you.

“Darling!” He yells, abandoning the game of beer pong he’s currently winning.

You’re surprised when he races toward you and crushes you with a hug. The wolf whistles and cat calls fade into the background as Jeonghan pulls you along with him to sit on the couch, not caring for his partner’s loud protest for him to finish the game. His grip is strong as he tugs you on his lap. The grin he gives you when you easily comply is so pretty it hurts.

“You look so pretty.” Jeonghan is talking to you in pout, and you think you might melt at how cute he looks. “Can’t believe you went out with another guy looking so good.”

You let out a shocked laugh. He sounds like a jealous boyfriend, and for some reason it doesn’t repulse or annoy you. It does confuse you, though.

“I can’t believe you were out here getting drunk with sorority girls while I had a business dinner with Mingyu and Jihoon.”

His laugh is so cute, and the way he hugs you tighter and burrows his face into your neck is even cuter. You notice the lingering eyes, and it reminds you that the affection you’re receiving isn’t real. It also makes you think about how there’s really no need for him to be acting like this. There’s no reporters around or anyone that would run back to your families to let them know how “in love” you two are.

And yet, you don’t feel like pushing him off.

“Let’s get you to bed.” You say, trying to act like your heart isn’t pounding as if it’s on the verge of imploding.

“To your house?” He looks up, hooded eyes looking at you with an emotion that seems familiar, but foreign-looking in his eyes.

“No.” You force yourself to say despite wanting to give into his pleading stare. “Your bed is upstairs, silly.”

Jeonghan leans more into you, letting out disappointed hum that tickles your skin. “Want to stay with you.”

You’re pretty sure you’re going to regret what you do next, but you for some reason you can’t explain to yourself, you’re unwilling to leave him alone when he clearly wants to stay with you. So you decide it’s easier to take him upstairs as he drunkenly points out where his room is. You plop down on his bed, surprised that Jeonghan hasn’t let go of you once the entire time.

“I’ll stay until you fall asleep.” You say as he shoves his face in your neck.

“Stay forever.”

It’s stupid the way your heart interprets the words even though your brain knows he only meant stay for tonight. You’re more worried that you wish he meant it in the way he said it.

In the morning, you wake up to see that you’re alone. The discomfort you feel is eased when the door opens minutes later to reveal Jeonghan with several shopping bags in hand. You spot the familiar Valentino and Christian Louboutin bags almost instantly.

“You’re awake.” The smile he gives you is sleepy and tired, but so damn attractive.

“You went shopping.” You say, trying to understand how he got up before you. “Don’t you have a hangover?”

“I do.” He admits, shyly rubbing the back of his neck. “But you need fresh clothes after you shower, so I went out to buy you some. I also got you some other stuff from the drug store.”

You don’t know how to process the fact that your fake boyfriend went out to buy you all the things you need. Especially since it was clear he made more than one stop. Jeonghan doesn’t seem to notice just how shocked you are as he places the bags on his bed and insists you look through them. You do as he says, feeling an intruding warmth fill your chest.

“Why’d you get me shoes?” You wonder when you open the Louboutin box.

“The shoes you came with don’t go with the dress I got you.”

His words make your heart thump with adoration that can’t be stifled. Heat spreads across your face as you hastily thank him before hurrying into the bathroom with the toiletries he bought for you so he can’t see just how much his actions affected you. It’s hard to ignore all the emotions gathering in your chest. Jeonghan is an exceptionally good actor, but you keep wondering why he's going this far. What’s worse is that you can’t say you hate it. Actually, you probably like it a little too much.

When you’re done showering, you dry your hair and try on the dress Jeonghan bought you. It’s snug against your frame, and you have to marvel at the fact that he actually did a great job choosing your size. You tentatively step out of the bathroom to see Jeonghan sitting on the bed occupied with his phone. It feels like the air is knocked out of him when he looks up to see you dressed in something he picked out and bought for you.

“Want to get breakfast?”

You try to ignore the fact that you’re playing a dangerous game by blurring the lines you’ve drawn when you say yes.

“Should we breakup before I go to Milan or after I come back from Paris?”

Your question is so casual that Jeonghan almost thinks he didn’t hear you right. He looks up from his phone to see you pulling out a suitcase from your closet. It’s almost painful that you don’t seem to realize how much your words have affected him.

“Breakup?” He repeats, throat going dry and heart sinking.

The way you nod normally like he doesn’t feel sick to his stomach has him reeling. “Yeah. Our parents are mad enough now, and the semester is almost over so I’ll start taking online classes again.”

Your reasoning makes sense (maybe a little too much), but Jeonghan really can’t accept what you’re saying. All that registers is the fact that you’re leaving and planning on having nothing to do with him anymore.

“You’re not coming back?”

You wonder if he actually sounds disappointed or if it’s just you wishing that he does. Either way, you can’t let him know that you feel like your heart is being ripped out because you’re asking to plan your breakup. “My agency only agreed to let me take classes in person for a semester. After the scandal I had with you, they don’t want me coming back again.”

“I don’t want you to leave.”

You try to pretend like his words don’t evoke an emotion out of you that you should definitely not feel for him.

“And I don’t want to breakup.”

The silence is heavy. It isn’t easy to not interpret his words as a plea to stay because he has feelings for you. Especially since you’re sure that’s not what he means. “If it’s about your dad we can—”

“This has nothing to do with my dad.” Jeonghan says, frustrated that you’re not understanding how he's feeling. “This is about you and me—about us.”

It’s strange to think that there is an us when it comes to you and Jeonghan now, but he can’t let you fly across the world without letting you know how he feels.

“You have to know that this isn’t fake to me.” He says, more nervous and determined than ever.

You can’t say anything. Not because you think it’s some joke or that he’s not being sincere, but because you can’t believe these feelings that had been flourishing since you two decided to let go of the past are being reciprocated.

“I know you probably still hate me, and I don’t blame you if you do. Back then, I ruined your life because I was insecure and wanted to make my dad proud. And now because of me, you won’t be able to come back to school even though going to this university has been your dream since we were kids.” Jeonghan soldiers on even though every single emotion is trying to peak through. “I’m an idiot to realize it so late, and I’m a bigger one to be apologizing to you only now.”

Jeonghan walks toward you until he’s directly in front of you. Just as you hope he seals his apology with a kiss, he falls to his knees, bunny-like eyes looking at you imploringly.

“I know I don’t deserve it, but I’m going to ask for your forgiveness anyway. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for everything I’ve done to you since you came back into my life.” He’s close to tears as he grabs your hands. “I’ll do anything for your forgiveness. Just tell me what I need to do, and I’ll do it.”

Your heart is thumping so erratically that it feels like it’s on the verge of exploding. Yoon Jeonghan is on his knees in front of you, eyes wet and pleading for you to forgive him. The onslaught of emotions you feel are scrambling your brain to the point where you can hardly think. “Hannie...”

The nickname makes him hopeful that maybe he can earn your forgiveness. He grips your hands a little tighter and gently uses his thumbs to caress the back of your hands.

“I don’t hate you, and I already forgave a long time ago.” You confess with a smile, heart still pounding.

Jeonghan stands and crushes you with a hug, body sagging in relief to know that you don’t hate him. He closes his eyes as he buries his face into your neck. The anxiety he was feeling fades away as he basks in your embrace.

“I’m sorry too.” Your apology is slightly muffled. “I was wrong to make your life a living hell, and I hope you can also forgive me.”

Jeonghan hugs you tighter. “I already have. It’s not like I didn't deserve it.”

You two laugh a bit until you pull back to look at your (fake?) boyfriend. “You really don’t want to be away from me?”

Jeonghan pouts and nods. He briefly thinks he might have to hang a sign around his neck for you to realize he never wants you to leave his side.

“Why?”

You need to hear him say it. This way, you’ll know for sure that you’re not just lucid dreaming.

“Because I’m in love with you.”

Jeonghan never thought he could miss someone as much as he missed you. He’s surprised that it can feel like you’ve been away from him for years when in reality it’s only been a week. Not that it matters because he finally has you in his arms again. And he plans on showering you with love before you have to leave for Paris.

“I missed you so much.”

You feel breathless when Jeonghan’s lips mold against yours, not giving you a chance to say that you missed him too. He’s nestled between your legs as his lips devour yours, not caring that he’s been in the same position for the last fifteen minutes. Jeonghan can’t get enough of you, and he’s only gotten a small taste.

The whine you let out when Jeonghan’s tongue starts to play with yours is so hot that he can feel his cock twitch in his pants. One of his hands trails down your body to grab a handful of your ass before smoothing over your thigh to hook your leg over his hip. You moan into his mouth as your core grinds into his hardening dick.

Finally, you pull away from him, pupils blown wide with lust. “Missed you so much, Hannie.”

Your boyfriend gently grinds down in order to hear another one of your sensual moans. His dark eyes are staring at you with so much desire that your cunt starts to pulse at the thought of having him carnally.

“Let me show you how much I missed you.”

Jeonghan is patient as he undresses you. It’s a contrast to the way he quickly strips his own clothes. You know it’s because your dress is a custom gift from Wen Junhui, and it makes your heart warm and cunt drip with more slick at the thought that he actually remembered.

When he settles his head between your legs and spreads you open, you feel a bashful heat course through your body. Jeonghan is staring straight at your core with the most heated gaze you’ve ever received from a man. “Fuck. I knew you were pretty everywhere.”

Jeonghan’s gives your pussy a harsh slap, earning a surprised moan from you. He soothes the sting by gently rubbing his fingers against your clit, loving how wet your pussy keeps getting. Any coherent response you’re thinking of is quick to disappear when Jeonghan dives into your awaiting cunt. His tongue laps and slobbers all over your drooling lips, messily making out with the heaven between your legs.

The way Jeonghan is groaning into your pussy in absolute pleasure makes you grind you cunt into his mouth, moaning and crying out in just as much pleasure. His fingers flex into the flesh of your soft thighs as they lock around his head. Jeonghan greedily licks every inch of your sopping cunt, chin and cheeks increasingly becoming covered in your sweet juices as they drip down to the sheets below him.

“Fuck, Hannie!” You cry out with a jolt, hips rolling incessantly into his mouth. “Keep doing that! Feels so good.”

“Yeah? Like it how I fuck you with my tongue, darling?” He rasps burying his face deeper into your hot cunt.

You’re slowly slipping into a euphoric state that won’t allow you to think straight, and you’re only able to stay coherent because he pulls away momentarily to slide his fingers between your folds. He lewdly spreads you open before diving back in, slurping up every last bit of your juices. The taste of you had his cock twitching and throbbing between his thighs.

Jeonghan groans when your fingers slide into his hair as your pussy keeps getting tighter around his tongue. The room in the air feels hot as he continues to lap at your cunt, and you can only pant and moan as you feel a familiar feeling pooling in your stomach.

The entire lower half of his face feels sticky, but Jeonghan needs more. Wants it to be messier. His hands slip under to grab your ass and push you deeper on his tongue. Lewd squelches mix in with your cries of pleasure as he fucks you with his tongue. You feel your eyes roll back and your back arch when he gently starts to circle your puffy clit. Jeonghan then wraps his lips around it before sucking it into his mouth.

“Fuck.” You moan out. “Jeonghan! Gonna come!”

His tongue rolls the sensitive bud as you jerk in his hold. Jeonghan’s groans are only turning you on even more because you can tell he’s enjoying this as much as you are. The arousal he feels has his cock aching for any sort of friction, but he’s just so lost in you that he can’t really care that his erection is starting to hurt. Honestly, he feels like he could eat you out forever.

“So fucking good.” You babble as your clit knocks against his nose with every buck of your hips.

You jolt when you feel Jeonghan suck your clit between his teeth, nibbling on the sensitive bud until your orgasm finally washes over you. Instead of pulling away, he pulls you closer and laps up your cream, slurping up everything you have to offer him. Precum gathers at the tip of his aching cock that he can feel it staining his underwear, but he’s too focused on you creaming on his tongue to care.

Your body goes slack after you ride out your orgasm. Jeonghan pulls a way from your cunt with a satisfied smirk. He wastes no time in getting rid of his underwear, leaking cock springing up with a wet slap against his lower abdomen after he takes it off. You lick your you lips and pull him closer to you as you’re eager to feel his skin on yours again.

“Like what you see, darling?” Jeonghan coos with a cocky smirk.

He’s stroking his thick cock slowly as he watches your eyes fix on the girth between his legs, raking them over him slowly with unmistakeable hunger. His cock is as pretty as he is; long and thick with the bulbous head oozing plenty of precum. The veins running alongside it have your cunt aching in need to feel them drag along your walls. Jeonghan undoubtedly has one of the biggest cocks you’ve ever seen, and you whine out in need as you cling to his neck. Your hips buck up on their own, desperate to feel even the slightest bit of friction.

“Don’t tease me.” You pout, eyes blinking up at him pleadingly.

That face you’re making is dangerous, Jeonghan thinks. It’s capable of getting you whatever you want. He has to close his eyes and exhale deeply when you snake a hand between your bodies and grip his cock, squeezing gently to goad him into fucking you. It’s hot and heavy in your hand and wet with his precum. Your hand drags over him in slow strokes.

“I want you so bad.” You whine into his ear. “Please.”

“You—“ He breathes with a stutter, hips slowly rolling into your hand. “Y-You have to answer me first, baby.”

You roll your thumb over his weeping tip, collecting the wet bead of his precum before smearing it along his cock. His whimpers and moans are so pretty, and you just revel in the sounds that you’re emmiting from him.

“Tell me. Tell me how much you want my cock.”

“Want your cock, Hannie. It’s so pretty—need it inside me.” You mewl as you squeeze the base of his dick.

Jeonghan lets out a chuckle that’s breathy against your ear. It sounds smug despite the blush spreading on his face. “Think it’s pretty, huh? The prettiest cock you’ve ever seen?”

“Mhm.” You moan as he slides his tip up and down your entrance, collecting your juices along his cock before he slaps your cunt with his dick.

Finally, he relents and slowly pushes past your wet folds. You both let out loud moans at the feeling of each other. Jeonghan feels like he’s in heaven with how your hot, tight cunt is gripping his cock while you feel a burning pleasure licking up your entire body as his big cock splits you open.

“Fuh-Fuck, darling. Tight little pussy’s gonna drive me crazy.” He groans before leaning forward to press a sloppy kiss to your lips, tongue exploring your mouth as he drinks in your moans.

You whimper and whine into his mouth, eyelids fluttering in pleasure as he slowly starts to fuck his cock into you. Jeonghan pulls away with a deep groan. His eyes roll to the back of his head as your tight cunt squeezes his dick. Your arms a wrap around his neck as your legs do the same around his waist. Jeonghan’s cock throbs, nearly coming at the sight of your mouth hanging open in pleasure.

“Such a pretty little cunt. And it’s all for me.”

“Only for you, babe.” You say through a moan, bucking your hips up to meet his slow thrusts.

Your actions make his cock hit deep inside you, the leaking tip brushing against your sweet spot. A wanton moan escapes you at the feeling. You arch your back in absolute pleasure, not believing that he’s able to reach that deep inside you. Jeonghan smirks at your reaction, loving how you’re already so lost on his cock. His hips keep rolling against yours, forcing his thick cock in and out of your tight pussy.

Jeonghan is splitting you open as he fucks his cock into you. Your head is swimming from the pleasure as he picks up his pace. His moans only add to your pleasure. You can feel his pelvis brushing your pulsing clit with every harsh snap of his hips. The carnal sound of his cock slipping in and out of your cunt paired with the slapping of skin is making your velvety walls clamp down on him tighter.

“Fuck, Hannie. Harder! Fuck me harder!” You beg, bucking your hips to match his thrusts.

You’re both panting harshly as you feel the delicious pleasure build steadily. It spreads from your legs and along your spine until it consumes you completely. Jeonghan is quickly becoming obsessed with the sight of you under him, pretty tits bouncing every time he sharply snaps his hips. He spreads your legs to see the erotic sight of your juices frothing at the base of his dick and sliding down his heavy sack.

“Cockhungry angel wants more?” Jeonghan coos, driving his hips deeper so his cock is slamming against your sweet spot, sending your vision white. “You can have more, love. Because this is your cock. All yours.”

His words make you become impossibly tight. Your velvety walls make him choke out a loud moan. It’s almost hard for him to move with how tight your pussy keeps getting. The sight of your cream coating his cock as it disappears into your hot cunt only makes his snap his hips harder, eager to feel you come undone on his dick.

“Mine.” Your babble sounds so possessive yet fucked out that Jeonghan can’t help but moan along with you.

“Yours.” He confirms through his deep groans. “Cock fits inside your little pussy like it was made for you.”

“Hannie!” You cry out, feeling drunk on how his veiny cock drags against your walls. “If you k-keep saying things like that—!”

He smirks, pressing a chaste kiss to your cheek—an action too tender for how he’s ravishing you. “What, baby? You’re gonna gush all over me? Cover this cock with your sweet cream?”

His thumb trails down to your aching clit and starts to rub fast circles along the sensitive bud. Jeonghan does this until you break. Your thighs tremble as your gummy walls flutter around his cock. If only you could see the literal heart eyes your boyfriend is staring at you with as your pretty face contorts in pleasure as you fall apart on his cock. He’s never seen a more perfect sight, and he’s sure to commit it to memory as your orgasm spurts all over his cock, marking him with your essence in the most obscene way.

The slam of his cock as he fucks you through your orgasm bordering on too much as you whimper in his arms. Those cute little mewls turn into cries when he keeps going, so drunk in you that he can’t stop. The sound of your moans and the way you suck him in as you cream around his cock makes Jeonghan’s head fall into your neck. His thrusts are turning sloppy as he whimpers gently against your skin.

“I love you.” He pants into your skin, choking on moans as he pumps his cum into your cunt. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Hannie.” You mewl, loving the feeling of his cum filling you up.

You feel the mixture of his release and your slick trailing down the sides of your thighs. It’s so messy that you can’t help but crave more. Jeonghan’s breathing is heavy as he places gentle kisses on your neck. Neither of you can ignore the pulsing of his fat cock still inside you. He fucks his cum into you a bit more before slowly pulling out, enjoying the sight of his thick cum leaking down to your asshole. Your pretty pussy is pulsing as more thick cum squeezes out.

Jeonghan’s massaging a palm on the inside of your sticky thigh to keep your legs spread for his eyes when you say the words that make his cock twitch and ache all over again.

“Keep stuffing me full of cum, baby.”

It’s so easy to slide his cock back into your creamy pussy. You clench tightly as he draws back, then forward again. His thick dick stretches you open so deliciously that you can’t hold back your cries of pleasure. He’s balls deep inside your hot cunt, his pelvis brushing against your aching nub. Your vision goes blurry as he hits so deep. Jeonghan hooks one of your knees over his shoulder so he can slide in deeper.

“I’m going to fill you up. Gonna come in this pretty pussy and fuck you until you can’t take anymore.” Jeonghan groans as you mewl and whimper underneath him.

He takes one of your nipples in his mouth, tugging the nub with his teeth, groping your other tit. You’re already so damn sensitive and arch into his touch. “Ah, Hannie!”

“Mmh.” He groans, releasing the hardened bud with a lewd pop as you clench around him.

Jeonghan starts fucking you slowly, letting you feel every vein along your pulsating walls. From tip to base, he feeds your tight hole like it’s starving. You whimper at the feeling, moans slipping out of you when he picks up speed. The tip of his dick rams into your cervix and makes you see stars. You’re so hot and messy already, your slick and his cum creating a ring around the fat base of his cock.

Dark eyes flicker between your sloppy hole and your fucked out face. Jeonghan can’t decide which is more obscene, but he loves both sights so much. His big cock spreads you wide, a euphoric burn blooming in your little pussy as your juices spill out. The cry you let out makes him kiss you. It’s soft in contrast to his length spearing you open. His tongue slips into your mouth, massaging yours as he swallows your moans.

Jeonghan traces tracing over your stretched hole to your fluttering clit, rubbing in hard circles as you keep crying out for him. He keeps pounding into you, your body moving up the bed with the sheer force.

“So fucking good!” Your mouth falls open in a moan as he rams into your sweet spot, that familiar electricity streaming through your body.

You can feel his pelvic bone pressing against your clit as his dick spears deeper. You’re squirming against your boyfriend, full and cockdrunk as he keeps rubbing his fingers on your clit. The toe-curling orgasm strikes so abruptly that you don’t expect it. Your juices squirt out all over Jeonghan’s length and his pelvis.

His thickness continues to invade your convulsing walls, almost brutally but you take it, gasping as your mind goes foggy.

“Fuck, darling. Keep soaking my cock like that.”

Your tits bounce as he fucks you harder, ramming into your sweet spot. You can’t process anything over the squelching noises and the sounds of your moans. Jeonghan groans, cursing lowly as you squeeze around him, begging for his cum. He grinds sinfully into your spasming cunt until he releases his hot cum into your pussy, filling you to the brim.

In utter pleasure, Jeonghan rocks into you with abandon, spurred on by your cries and your nails digging into his shoulders as his pelvis rubs your humming clit. His warmth spreads within you, leaking out from around his throbbing girth as his hips slow to a stop. You soften to quiet whimpers when he lets go of your leg, nuzzling into his neck in a daze.

Neither of you move, too lost in the feeling of each other’s arms to care about anything else.

taglist: @duolingofanaccount @felix-3002 @junhui-recs @asjkdk @dani41 @kageyama-i-want-tobiors @ohwonwoo

[sweetteainthesummerx]

⋆·˚ ༘ * oh, my, my, my ⋆·˚ ༘ *

nhl masterlist !

pairings: quinn hughes x childhood friend!reader, jack hughes x platonic best friend!reader, quinn x artist!reader

warnings: angst and comfort, fluff

summary: you and quinn throughout the years, and how you fall in love <3

song: mary's song (oh my my my) by taylor swift

word count: 4.4 k

notes: I love lake quinn sm :)

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

our daddies used to joke about the two of us, growing up and falling in love, our mamas smiled, and rolled their eyes

"oh, she's so tiny!" ellen cooes, cradling the little bundle of pink, "and she has your eyes, birdie."

your mother smiles at the nickname her college friend had given her freshman year, when a bird had pooped on her head during a girl's night out.

it stuck (literally), and almost 10 years later, as her best friend holds her babygirl, she's reminded of everything they'd been through together.

"congrats, man. the first girl in the family!" jim slaps your dad on the shoulder, the two men smiling at their wives.

"oh, she's just precious." you yawn, and all of the adults are reduced to an awwing mess.

quinn toddles over, chubby toddler legs still unsure. he lands on his butt half a foot away from ellen, who lifts him up with the hand that wasn't holding you.

"look, quinny."

quinn reaches out a finger towards you, and jim is about to chide him when your tiny little fist locks around it. his wide eyes widen even more. you gurgle happily at him, and for the first time in a while, he goes completely still, enraptured by the baby in front of him.

"oh." your father whispers.

"well, that's your son-in-law now," jim laughs.

"hey, don't count out jack! they're closer in age, after all."

your mom rolls her eyes, as ellen snorts, "let's not pre-write our kid's futures before they're five, please."

..••°°°°••....••°°°°••..

i was seven and you were nine, i looked at you like the stars that shine

"y'know, birdie," ellen starts, "the boys might be right."

"no, they cannot eat four pb and j's and then go to the carnival-"

"no, not the little ones!", ellen laughs, "our husbands. they might be right."

"oh, that? the whole son-in-law thing?" your mom grins, as she watches luke chase after you with a worm.

the two women are silent and thoughtful as you - screaming at the top of your lungs - duck behind quinn, who sternly tells off his little brother. your sticky hands lace with his, naturally, albeit a bit awkward the way only kids can be.

you absolutely adore quinn. he's your protector, the one you turn to more often than not. jack is your best friend, and you remind her of that often. luke is your baby brother, the one you coddle and fuss over.

and the boys adore you just as much; jack plays pirates with you all day, Luke follows you like a puppy, and quinn...

he's staked a claim on you that makes your mom laugh, but worry a little when your older and you inevitably find someone who isn't him.

it never occurred to her that he might be the one.

"oh my god." your mom says as your dad walks in with jim.

"ha! see? I know I put money on my son for good reason." jim says gleefully, and quickly pipes down at ellen's dirty look.

"jack is also your son, man." your dad shakes his head.

"seriously? you guys made bets on the future love lives of your prepubescent kids?"

"birdie, it's just a joke!"

he eats his words as quinn leads you through the door. you're in tears, a nasty scrape on your knee. he's got your hand cradled in his.

ellen and your mom fawn over it, how brave you were, but all you could remember is how quinn held your hand the whole time.

..••°°°°••....••°°°°••..

take me back when our world was one block wide, i dared you to kiss me and ran when you tried

when you're ten, you almost have your first kiss.

you're going through a phase, really, when all you would wear were your overall jean shorts, a big t-shirt and your red converses. you have little pen drawings all over your shoes and shorts.

now, when you look at the photos from back then, you cringe a little at how lanky and young you look.

you're with the boys at one of the neighbouring lake houses, a couple of other girls and a few guys too.

everyone there lived on the same block, so it was odd that you hadn't all hung out together before.

quinn can tell you're uncomfortable around the other guys, who are loud and frankly very obnoxious. even his 12-year-old self can tell.

he tells you that you can all leave and go get ice cream near the boardwalk, but you refuse. you're 10 already, you can handle a few new strangers.

somehow, spin the bottle is brought up and you find yourself sitting cross-legged as one of the older girls - who's kind and much more grown than you - tellsdyou how to spin the bottle.

your hands shake and the backs of your knees are slick with sweat, but you spin anyways. you want to seem cool and older too.

you watch the root beer bottled patter as it turns, the ting, ting sound dissonant with your thumping heart.

it lands on quinn.

your quinn who knows all of the words to the spider man movies, who gives the last popsicle to you and lets you tuck your feet under his thighs when you get cold.

this is a disaster, you think, because you don't know how to kiss! are you supposed to use your tongue? you almost gag at the thought.

quinn can see your very apparent panic, and the only thing on his mind was to make it of away.

he wants to hold your hand, but when you turned nine you had decided that boys had cooties, so you refused to touch him or his brothers.

"...we don't have to," he offers, scratching his neck. one of the boys boo, and you flush.

you shook your head, "i want to."

he smiles, shy and boyish and your heart goes into overdrive.

his face matches yours in colour as he scoots forward awkwardly, cupping your face the way he'd seen his dad do to his mom.

as he leans forward, you burst into tears. if you kiss him, and he's disgusted by your kissing skills - or lack thereof - he wouldn't be your quinn anymore.

you run out embarrassed, leaving quinn's hand outstretched and the older girl from earlier confused and worried.

you think that you had ruined it all, but later that night when quinn offers to take you to get ice cream and lets you get two scoops, you know nothing can tear the two of you apart.

..••°°°°••....••°°°°••..

take me back to the creek beds we turned up, two A.M. riding in your truck and all I need is you next to me

the year quinn turned 16, he gets his boating and drivers license.

when the first real day of summer - he doesn't count the days until he sees you and the lake house again - starts and he finds you making eggs and bacon in the kitchen, he gives you an offer.

"hey, chickie." he tugs playfully at the string of your apron. jim had given you that nickname because of your mom's. chickie, like a baby bird. jack liked to call you chicklet, and Luke followed suit.

the adults think you've outgrown that name, and only call you chickie sporadically.

it's become special for you and quinn, sacred even,

"hi, quinny." you answer in the same tone, swatting him with the spatula in your hand.

"give me a piece of bacon and i'll take you out onto the water. i'll even let you drive a bit when we're far out." he murmurs as you turn the stove off.

"really?" you squeal, and he winces jokingly.

"yes, yes! finally!" you throw yourself at him, letting the older boy catch you around the waist. he grins into your hair, his cheek muscles unused by the seasons without you.

"okay, kid. pipe down. where's my bacon?" he grumbles, but he smiles when you turn around to fix him a whole plate.

you forget in all of your excitement that he doesn't even like bacon.

it's pathetic, really, but he missed you. he still does even though you're less than a foot away from him, salting your scrambled eggs.

he finishes his food faster than you do, and leaves to set up the boat with your promises that you would hurry.

he's excited; he hasn't seen you since christmas, and then, he had to share you with jack and luke and his parents too.

that year, you and jack had become decidedly closer, and quinn knows he has to establish that boat time was for you and him only.

so when jack and luke both follow you onto the boat, whooping and screaming, he's pissed.

and on top of that, he has to drive the boat while you and jack banter and threaten to shove each other off of the moving vessel.

it wasn't fair: you're his person. you guys did gas station runs together, you always looked at him with sad puppy eyes when you were cold.

he'd always grumbled and give you his sweatshirt when you refused to bring a jacket and ended up shivering. you always begged to braid his hair when the sun was at it's highest and there was nothing to do.

so yeah, excuse him if he was mad that your time together was interrupted by jack and luke of all people.

so when you walk up to him, hair messy and wearing nothing but your bathing suit and one of his old hockey jerseys, he tries his best to ignore you.

"quinny!" you exclaim, nudging his shoulder, and once more when he doesn't answer.

he glances quickly at you, but one look is enough to make his chest squeeze in that way that it started to do since last summer.

you had always been beautiful, but you were starting to be seriously gorgeous.

your hair is windblown, skin tanned and freckled with eyes bright from the sheer novelty of it being summer again.

you'd started to fill out more; the tiny bikinis you - and he - loved made something hot tug in his lower stomach.

tucking your hand into the crook of his elbow in the way that always makes him soften like butter, "I thought you were gonna let me drive!"

"ask jack to teach you," he snarks, and regrets it immediately at the hurt on your face.

his chest tightens, like someone has taken the hurt on your features and shoved it between his rib cage so he couldn't breathe.

the two of you don't talk for the rest of the day.

quinn feels like an asshole, and he really doesn't like how you refuse to sit in your normal spot next to him during movie night, instead opting to tuck yourself between the edge of the couch and luke.

and the salt on the wound was when you don't laugh at the stupid jokes he makes for you, especially.

his mom asks him what he had done when he goes to get more popcorn in the kitchen.

"what? why did you automatically assume I didn't something?" he asked, offended.

"because, that girl sticks to you like a magnet," ellen smooths his temple, "and because no one makes you smile and talk like she does. you've been silent all day."

the next night, he shows up at the door of your room in the lake house your two families shared.

he knocks, and pokes his head in, "chickie?

you're at your table, drawing again like you always were.

he keeps the little sketch of him you made last summer in his wallet, tucked under the picture of all of the hughes boys and you.

you ignore him, and he flops on your bed. the floral sheets your mom bought when you were 11 smells like you. he tries not to be creepy and inhale - at least too noticeably.

"gas station run?" he asks.

you finally spare him a glance, "quinny, it's past one o'clock, and it'll take at least 20 minuted to get there."

"please? I really want chips."

you sigh, ever the martyr, and agree. neither of you mention how the hughes stock up enough snacks to last at least 2 months the beginning of every summer.

the battle of who cracks first kept on, until finally, on the way back from the gas station, quinn sighs, "I'm sorry.

you frown, clearly not impressed, "I don't even know why you're sorry."

"god, this is embarrassing-"

"quintin, i swear-"

"i wanted the boat ride to be just us two!" he exclaims loudly.

there was a beat of silence, only the chirp of crickets that crept in the tall grass you could hear through the open windows of jim's truck.

the light on the radio shined, 1:59 AM.

"what?" you ask, a little confused and very much flustered.

"i missed you, chickie, and jack is always monopolizing your time! you're my person and-"

"are you jealous?"

"what?"

"oh my god, you are! you're jealous!"

"no!" he splutters, grateful that it's pitch black outside, because he can feel his ears heating up.

you laugh, tugging at one of his curls, as he grumbles something about not letting you eat any of his salt and vinegar chips.

"quinny?" you ask a little while later, when he's pulling back into the drive way, "y'know that you're my person too, right?"

you look soft and sleepy, under the light of the car, in one of his hoodies and sleep shorts.

he swears he turns into liquid in the drivers seat.

..••°°°°••....••°°°°••..

well, i was sixteen when suddenly, i wasn't that little girl you used to see

"I wouldn't worry about that, chicklet." jack throws his arm around you, and you roll your eyes at the many girls starting to glare at you.

"I don't know what you're talking about." except you do.

there's a girl flirting with quinn, and she's pretty. she's got tattoos on her arms, and she's tall, almost tall at him.

you take a break from the self-deprecating comparison between yourself and her to admire quinn for one second.

he's gotten so tall and broad, all the signs of boyhood gone, except when he smiles that special smile for you. the one when his eyes get all squinty and he bares all of his pretty teeth.

your heart twists, because he hasn't smiled at you like that all summer.

you don't know what you did wrong. maybe he's outgrowing you. he'll be a college man next fall, and you're still in high school.

he's got the whole world in front of him, and well, you couldn't blame him if he didn't want to settle for you.

you realize your feelings for him the beginning of the summer.

or you uncover them, because if you're honest, they've always been there.

and right now, you're wearing your heart on your sleeve, because he looks so handsome in a tight black t-shirt and shorts, a backwards cap on his curls.

his biceps look huge, and between the teenage hormones and the two shots in your system, you want to climb him like a tree.

the more romantic side of you wished you had your charcoal and parchment, so you can copy down his likeness for when your old and greying and you can't remember how he looks illuminated by the moon and bonfire.

"yeah, sure. you're clueless." jack snorts, and he makes his way to the drink table at the party you're at.

you pass by Luke, who's preoccupied by a girl way too old for him, and go sit closer to the fire.

you're mad.

you're mad because you've dressed up real cute, in a tiny black tube top and denim shorts.

you're mad because your hair is curled the way quinn likes it.

you know that for a fact because every time it looks like that, he comes up behind you to wind his fingers through a strand. it was a hassle, and he won't even look at you.

"what's a pretty girl like you doing alone?"

it's a boy with mussed, brown hair and a nice smile.

he's cute. peter, or pierre, he introduces himself. he reminds you a bit of the boyfriend you had first semester of sophomore year.

you've had boyfriends, and quinn has had his relationships, but summer was sacred.

that's why you felt ill when you flirted with him, not because quinn was a mere 20 feet away, starting to glance over and frown.

quinn has always been a jealous motherfucker; you'd give it 5 minutes before he comes over.

you try not to gloat when he comes over in 2.

"hey, chickie. time to go." he tells you, taking you cup and winding an arm around your waist.

you roll your eyes, pushing him off, "no, I'm good here,"

quinn crosses his arms and puffs out his chest, biceps flexing in front of you.

the boy smiles - you've already forgotten his name, something p - and shrugs at quinn.

he's mad now, you can tell, but you wrap you're fingers around the other boy's elbow to egg him on.

"oh, for- that's it. c'mon."

suddenly, your feet are swept out from under you, and you're thrown over his shoulder.

you frown, realizing that you're in the air.

"hey!" you protest weakly as people turn to look at you. quinn continues his trudge all the way to where he's parked his dad's truck and dumps you on the hood like you weigh nothing.

"what are you doing?" he asks, eyes dark, "that guy is no good-"

"no! what are you doing?" all of your frustration pools in your throat, and embarrassing tears are starting to prick at your eyes.

"you won't even look at me all summer, you're flirting with some girl and you get mad at me? you're being such-"

he shakes his head, looking as exasperated as you feel.

"do you know how hard it is-" he breathes out shakily, "how difficult it is to control myself around you?"

"what?" you ask, heart beating in your ears, "what?"

"i have been in love with you since i was 12, chickie." his tone is begging, and so are his eyes.

he looks pained, and you want to relieve it so, so badly. but he still won't touch you. he's hovering away from you, like he has for the past month.

"i love you, and you see me nothing more than a brother, like how you see jack. and it hurts, here," he rubs the heel of his palm between his ribs, "to know that you'll never want me the same way."

"quinn-"

"no, let me talk. I've spent the past 6 years pining after you. I've tried to move on, but all...nothing compares to you. I want you so bad, chickie, but..." he turns from you, head in his hands.

now, if you weren't like 3 beers and 2 shots deep, you would realize that he can't really go anywhere because you're quite literally on the top of his car.

but drunk you is clearly a dumbass, because you think he's trying to leave. so you tell him what's actually on your mind.

"i love you!" you blurt out.

he turns slowly, "what?"

"i love you too. i thought you didn't want me because you're leaving for college, but i want you so bad, please-"

the next thing you know, he's between your legs, so warm and solid, pulling you in by your cheek like during that spin the bottle game 6 years ago.

you let him kiss you for real this time, you let him push up your shorts to feel more of your skin, you let him lick into your mouth.

he pulls away, and you whine, tugging him in again.

he laughs, which makes you laugh in turn, and you slide down the hood as you giggle. he catches you, because he always does.

"i love you." you tell him, and he flushes, nuzzling into your neck.

"say it again," he demands, just because he can.

"i love you, my quinny." you coo, and he wants to crawl into your skin and settle there forever.

"i love you too, chickie."

..••°°°°••....••°°°°••..

oh, my, my, my

"told you so." Jim tells the rest of the parents.

the four of them - the weirdos - are on the second floor, leaning on the bannister as you make breakfast with quinn.

well, you make breakfast and he's distracting you.

he's got his arms wrapped around your shoulders from the back, and the two of you waddle like a pair of penguins around the kitchen gathering ingredients for pancakes.

you're giggling, and he's got a half-smile on his face.

you look so happy together than ellen and your mom are ignoring jim's gloating.

they are even kind enough to ignore the exchange of money between the two men, after all, your dad had bet on jack and lost.

"i can't wait for their wedding."

"hold on, now!"

..••°°°°••....••°°°°••..

a few years had gone and come around, we were sitting at our favorite spot in town and you looked at me, got down on one knee

you're on Quinn's lap, content and warm. the two of you had gotten up to watch the sunrise, first day of the summer at the lake house.

it's nice to have everyone in one place again, the two of you coming from vancouver, the boys from new jersey.

the past couple of years had been hard; a year or two long distance, until you went to study architecture at UBC after quinn had been drafted.

this year, 24 and 22, you finally get some rest and the promise of settling down more.

quinn's captain, and you have a good job that lets you work remote and do what you love.

and more importantly, the two of you are always together.

"babe?" quinn asks, running a hand down your arms, "c'mon, let's go to the dock?"

you don't protest, just happy to be at your childhood lake house.

he leads you there, like he always does.

"pretty." you stare out at the water, orange and pink sky meeting in the still horizon.

"yeah." quinn gives you a smile, rare for anyone else.

but he has always smiled for you, and you greedily hoard them in your memories.

"got something to show you," he pulls his wallet out, the two pictures in the clear flaps catch your eye.

one is a polaroid of you and your boys. quinn is 15, jack is 14, you're 13 and luke is 11. all of you are lanky and awkward, wrapped around each other and grinning ear to ear.

the other is also a polaroid, taken by ellen a year or two ago, when all of your parents came to visit your Vancouver apartment.

quinn's arm is around your shoulders and you're clinging to his side, one hand curled around his waist and the other on his chest. you're smiling at the camera, and quinn is smiling at you.

"cute," you tell him, but he digs a finger into the little pocket.

"fuck," he swears when whatever he's looking for doesn't come out.

"here, let me," you offer. you retrieve a piece of thick parchment with your smaller hands.

it's a sketch of quinn you did when you were in your early teens.

it's not great, you have to admit. the lines aren't smooth like how you sketch now, but the ink and paper is in pristine condition.

"quinn...you kept this?" you ask softly, oddly emotional.

when you look at him, he has a weird look on his face. he scratches his neck.

you stare at each other for a moment, the familiarity of your love almost stifling in the cool morning air.

and then he drops down on one knee.

you start crying, immediately.

that sets him off, and the two of you are blubbering as he tries to get through the speech he wrote in his notes 7 months ago after he got the ring and you were in the shower.

he tells you he loves you, how he's never going to leave you, that you're going to build a life together, just like how you've done everything together since you were kids.

you believe him, because your quinn is nothing if not earnest and steady.

you let him slip the simple ring onto your finger, and he lifts you up into strong arms to kiss you.

you're so deliriously happy that your teeth clash with his in a smiling kiss.

your families cheers from the porch, and you laugh, watery and heart full.

jack runs up first, swinging you around and clapping his hand down on quinn's shoulder.

Luke kisses your cheek and hugs his older brother, as ellen and your mom hug you together.

jim wraps his arms around you, pressing his lips to your forehead, "thanks for helping me win the bet, chickie." you chuckle, reaching for your dad next.

..••°°°°••....••°°°°••..

take me back to the time when we walked down the aisle, our whole town came and our mamas cried, you said I do and I did too

the wedding takes place a year later, in a small winery near the house, because ellen and your mom refused to let you have the wedding on the dock.

this was your compromise, because it's a small affair.

your dad walks you down the aisle to quinn. you're smiling, like there's a hanger in your mouth because you're just so happy.

he cries when he sees you, and so do the other hughes boys.

you hear your mom and ellen, tears meeting shaky smiles on their faces.

your own college friend, your birdie, fixes your veil and holds your bouquet.

sweet promises are exchanged in your vows, and when you have your first kiss as mr. and mrs. hughes, all of your loved ones cheer.

quinn sweeps you off your feet and bridal carries you to a change room so you can switch into your reception dress.

he sees you later as jack, who volunteered to be the mc, announces you guys as mr. and mrs. hughes.

quinn's eyes are hot and dark as he sees your smooth skin under white lace, and whispers something into the shell of your ear that makes you pink.

you dance together, with his brothers and his dad, with your own too.

but the last dance is saved for the two of you.

"i can't wait to grow old with you, chickie." he whispers romantically.

"you'd make such a cute old man," you tell him, and he rolls his eyes.

you laugh, and so does he.

forever sounds real good to you.

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

© sweetteainthesummerx.tumblr. all rights reserved. unauthorized copying, translation, or claiming of my writing or any works as your own is strictly prohibited.

[maythearo]

" Welcome back to Night Raven College's 'Ghostly Gossip'! The school's unofficial main online source for the latest news, articles and trending topics circulating around campus! "

" I'd usually describe this as a super exclusive entry, but who am I kidding? If you've spent more than five minutes in this school, you've already seen his shadows lurking around in the background at some point (I mean, he's like. super tall.) "

Navigation:

R. Rosehearts ▪︎ T. Clover ▪︎ C. Diamond ▪︎ A. Trappola ▪︎ D. Spade ▪︎ L. Kingscholar ▪︎ R. Bucchi ▪︎ J. Howl ▪︎ A. Ashengrotto ▪︎ J. Leech ▪︎ F. Leech ▪︎ K. Al Asim ▪︎ J. Viper ▪︎ V. Schoenheit ▪︎ R. Hunt ▪︎ E. Felmier ▪︎ I. Shroud ▪︎ O. Shroud ▪︎ M. Draconia ▪︎ L. Vanrouge ▪︎ S. Zigvolt ▪︎ Silver

Design notes:

Man I've been postponing this for so long, I don't even remember half of what my process with this one was like. But I concluded that if I don't post this now, the loss of my mental notes will only get worse with time, so here you go, putting this out there once and for all lol

For a general picture I wanted Malleus' vibes to be more fairy tale-like. (He ended up reminding me a bit of Faybelle too, in a way.) The colors of those iridescent black feathers go well with him, I think. And did someone mention Howl's moving castle? Yeah, Howl's monster form.

I got this one ask before, reccomending the Cockatrice monster for Malleus, and searching a bit about it, is apparently also often taken as a synonymous with the basilisk? So like, Wyvern meets Basilisk, but it is also giving fae, idk. Listen, the idea inside my head is like, if you're asked to imagine a mythical creature that roams around a dark forest, outside the castle of a cursed princess, it's him. He's the creature.

And I'll admit I have not been catching up with the Diasomnia's chapter :( so give me 50 years at least so I can make up some more in-depth lore for his MH au counterpart (or maybe I'll just read a resume out of the wiki). Malleus enjoyers are free to drop headcanons onto him, you guys' knowledge of his character are always so astronomical it never fails to impress me /gen

[unfinishedslurs]

gay bar (steddie)

“Well, well, well,” says a voice from behind. “Steeeeeeve Harrington. I must be dreaming.”

Steve turns around to see a guy, dressed in black and chains. Rings decorating his fingers, studs in his ears, curly hair pulled back in a ponytail. He’s hot, yeah, but something about him has Steve squinting, trying to figure out why he looks so familiar. 

“I know you from somewhere,” he says, pointing out the obvious. The guy knows his name.

The not-a-stranger snorts. “Of course you don’t remember me. Why would the likes of King Steve stoop to—“

As soon as the nickname leaves his mouth, Steve’s brain lights up. “Munson!” He exclaims, snapping his fingers. “You used to climb on the lunch tables to give speeches.”

It was so obnoxious, too. The kind of thing that had him and Robin reminiscing late at night, celebrating some of the weirder shit about Hawkins that didn’t come from monsters, or Russians, or government conspiracy. Remember that one asshole? Yeah, he stepped on my lunch one time!

Condolences to Robin’s pb&j. She never sat at that table again.

Munson’s whole face turns pink. “Seriously? That’s what you remember?”

“It was pretty fucking memorable, dude. Like, gross, doesn’t this guy know not to put his feet where people eat? Dustin thought you were so cool for it too. I had to nip that in the bud before he started imitating you or some shit.”

“Oh,” he says, voice gone flat. “Because God forbid some poor kid try to immolate the freak.”

Steve gives him his bitchiest, most deadpan stare. “Feet,” he says slowly. “Nasty, fifteen year old boy feet. On my kitchen table. He almost slipped and cracked his skull, and I would have sent you the hospital bill.”

He had to get creative to make him stop, too. Stood there, hands on his hips, and made Dustin tell him exactly how many germs he thought were on his shoes. Then when he tried to do it barefoot, decided the only course of action was to stuff Dustin’s abandoned sock in his mouth and ask if he wanted that shit with every meal. Erica still has the photos. 

Munson has the decency to look embarrassed, face flooding an even brighter red that wouldn’t be out of place in a tomato patch. “What are you even doing here, Harrington?”

What does he think Steve’s doing here? It’s a fucking gay bar, it’s pretty self explanatory. “My friend is here somewhere,” he says, waving out at the crowd of people. “She’s going through a dry spell, so…”

“Right,” Munson says. Steve squints at him. Does he look disappointed?

Eh. Doesn’t matter. 

“You gave my kids the best freshman year of their nerdy little lives,” he tells him, because he knows Dustin would want him to. Plus, the guy was Mike’s gay awakening. He should probably get some credit. “So thanks for that.”

He lights up. “Yeah! How was Hellfire in my absence?”

“I had to hear them bitch and moan for months about how it ‘wasn’t the same,’ but it’s doing pretty all right. Erica Sinclair is running it now.”

“Erica Sinclair…” Munson mutters, snapping his fingers. “Lucas Sinclair’s little sister? Lady Applejack?” He beams when Steve nods. “She kicked ass. Best finish to a campaign my entire high school career. How’s Lucas, anyway? And the rest of the runts.”

“He’s doing great,” Steve says. “College basketball at Yale. Pretty sure he’s dying under the workload, but that’s what you get for majoring in physics. Dustin’s at MIT, and Mike’s taking a gap year.”

He whistles lowly. “Yeesh, I don’t blame him. How about Byers?”

“Which one?”

“Zombie boy.” Steve’s hackles raise, but Munson just grins. “God, that nickname was badass.”

“How do you even know about that?”

Munson taps the side of his nose. “A magician never reveals his secrets. Besides, all it took for you to remember me was calling you by your high school nickname.”

“That wasn’t my nickname.” Steve rolls his eyes. “Literally three people ever actually called me that, and you were one of them.”

He has a feeling it was Tommy who started it, bitter and vicious. Told himself Steve was self possessed, high and mighty, above it all. That’s why he left his old friends behind. Not because he was in love, or because he wanted to be better. No, King Steve just sits alone in his castle, looking down on the peasants with contempt. 

Billy must have taken his angry ramblings and run with them. After all, what better way to get a start in a new town than declaring yourself royalty? Never mind that Steve hadn’t cared about anything like that for almost a year by then. 

Munson had just been a drama-loving asshole. 

“That can’t be right.”

“I stopped being popular in junior year. Why the hell would anyone call a sophomore King?” Steve points out. 

“You were Prom King.”

“Again, in junior year. Pickings were slim. Who else would it have been? Tommy?” He has to laugh. 

Luckily, Munson takes the hint and swerves the conversation into new territory. “You know, I always figured you’d be homophobic.”

Steve snorts. “What, and get kicked out for nothing?”

Munson stares at him, and Steve furrows his brow, looking into his glass like it will have the answer to why the hell he said that to this guy he barely knows. He just decided he wasn’t going to spill all his daddy issues to a near-stranger in a dingy bar, dammit. Is he already on his fifth drink?

Actually, this might be his sixth. That tracks. 

“What?”

“My dad caught me kissing a boy,” he says. If he’s going to give Munson his life story, he might as well commit. “Can you believe that boy ruined my life in three different ways? Two of them didn’t even have anything to do with the gay thing.” 

Maybe four ways, if you accounted for the way he broke his goddamn heart, but everyone and their mother saw that coming a mile away. Even Steve. Especially Steve. 

No offense to Jonathan. None of those things were really his fault. Or actually life ruining, but it sure fucking felt like it at the time. 

He should give him a call soon, actually, see how he and Argyle are doing. He misses the guy. Maybe he and Robin should save up for a visit to Cali. Get Nancy on it. They could see San Francisco while they were there, that’d be cool. Apparently it was the queer capital of the country. 

He’s thinking about asking the bartender for a napkin and a pen to write down the plans he’s forming when Munson speaks up again. Steve honestly forgot he was here. 

“I thought you said you were here for a friend.”

What?” Steve blinks, confused, and then catches on. “Yeah, to get her laid. I’m not in the mood right now.”

Munson cocks an eyebrow. “Wearing that? Could’ve fooled me.”

Steve looks down at his Springsteen T-Shirt that Robin cropped, and picks at the frayed hem of his shorts. Okay, yeah, they’re on the skimpy side, but in his defense it’s summer and even if he’s not cruising Steve likes being looked at. “Yeah, yeah. What about you? Here for anything in particular?”

“Just to talk to some pretty boys,” Munson says, leaning on the bar to flag down the bartender. Steve smirks, reaching out a hand to tug at the hanky in his back pocket. Pinned, damn. 

Munson whirls around, a flush starting to crawl onto his ears. 

“Wearing that?” Steve echos snarkily. “Could’ve fooled me.”

He swears that for a minute Munson’s eyes darken. 

He’s almost tempted to follow through, high school reputation be damned, when someone crashes into his side and nearly sends him careening. 

“Steeeeeve,” Robin yells happily into his ear. “This is Bernie, she’s gonna take me home, see you la—oh, hi!” She says, noticing Munson. “I know you from somewhere.”

“Eddie Munson,” Munson greets. “Steve and I went to high school together.”

“Munson! That’s it, you climbed on tables and had shit music. I’m Robin. Okay, I’ll call the apartment and leave a message when we get there. Bernie’s waiting on me, it’s-nice-to-meet-you-bye!” Just like that, she’s gone. 

Munson’s mouth has dropped open. “You told her I had shit music?” He demands. “Wait, you talked about me?”

“She went to school with us, dumbass,” he says, as if he can talk. He still barely remembers her as more than a vague, glowering figure in his peripheral. “It’s not my fault you blasted your screamy music for everyone in the parking lot. Such a fucking headache, God.”

Munson turns his nose up. “Sorry for having offended your jock sensibilities.”

“Oh, I don’t play anymore,” he says, and knocks on his head. “Concussions, yanno. Apparently brain damage will fuck you up. Who knew?”

“What, like the fight you had with Byers? He did you that bad?”

“He did me just fine,” Steve blurts out, before he can stop himself. Munson chokes. “Shit, sorry, I’m kind of a horny drunk.” Weird thing to say, Steve. “Also, I cannot stress enough how much I needed to be punched in the face. It was a monumental moment for me, you know. Started me on the path for changing my entire worldview. Plus, he was my first guy crush.” He swirls his empty glass, lost in thought, before brightening up. “I should call him!”

Munson is staring at him, mouth opening and closing like a fish. 

“What?”

“You’re drunk.”

“Well, yeah. Duh.”

“I should probably stop you from booty-calling the guy who punched you in the face.”

Steve wrinkles his nose. “It wouldn’t be a booty-call,” he says. “He and Argyle are happy together, man. I’m not gonna ruin that.”

“Oh, so you’d call him because…”

“I call him all the time,” Steve says, confused as to why this is such a big deal. “We’re friends.”

“Jonathan!” He yells happily into the pay phone. Munson is standing to the side, looking on in annoyance. Whatever, it’s not like Steve asked him to do this. “Jonathan, man, how are you?”

“…Steve?”

“Yeah!”

“It’s like…” he hears something clatter in the background, like Jonathan is looking for something, “two in the morning there. You okay?”

“I’m doing great!” He exclaims. “How about you? It’s been ages, man, I miss you.”

“This is so fucking weird,” Munson whispers behind him. Steve ignores him. 

“Are you drunk?”

“No,” he says. “Well, maybe a little. Do you not miss me too?” He pouts, and Jonathan sighs loud enough he hears it over the phone. 

“I just talked to you yesterday.”

Steve frowns. “Yesterday? That can’t be right, it’s been, like, forever. Oh, hey, have you heard from Nance lately? How’s your mom? I love your mom, she’s so fucking cool. Does she know I think she’s cool? How’s Will? It’s been so long, is he taller than me yet? How’s Argyle doing with his degree? I miss you guys.”

“We miss you too, Steve.”

“Awww, Byers, getting soppy on me? Gross, man.”

“You literally just—yeah, okay. Are you alone?”

“Nah, I’ve got this guy with me, he’s walking me home. Oh! Dude, do you remember Munson?”

“Munson?”

“Yeah, Eddie Munson! From high school! The one who used to climb on tables and shit, remember him?”

“Jesus Christ,” Munson groans. “Please let that die.”

“No one is dying,” Steve informs him seriously, and turns back to the phone. Munson sighs. 

“Wasn’t he a drug dealer?”

“Yes! Yeah, drug dealer Munson! Did you ever buy from him?” He turns to where Munson is looking around furtively. “Did Jonathan ever buy from you?”

“How about we not talk about this here,” Munson says through gritted teeth. Steve sighs and turns back to the phone. 

“Never mind, he says he doesn’t want to talk about that. Not like we can judge him, but whatever. Maybe the guy’s turned into a prude—“

“Okay, give me that.” Munson wrestles the phone out of his hand, and Steve whines at him. “Hey, Byers,” Munson says. “Yeah, it’s Eddie. Or Munson. Whatever. Listen, I’m getting kind of sick of standing here watching Harrington slobber all over the receiver, can he call you tomorrow? What? No, I don’t sell anymore—yeah, total bummer, whatever. Listen, I’ll get him home safe—no, I’m not going to serial murder him. He’s gonna be fine, he’ll call you tomorrow—Nancy Wheeler? Like that girl he dated? Didn’t you—shoot me? Jesus, okay! I’m not gonna kill the guy, Christ. He’s gonna be fine, oh my God. He’ll call you tomorrow. Uh-huh. Uh-huh. Yeah, okay. Bye.” He slams the phone into its holder with more than a little contempt. 

“Hey!” Steve protests. “You didn’t let me say bye.”

“You can call him tomorrow and apologize,” Munson says. “Now c’mon, Harrington. I’ve been tasked with getting you home safe, and if I fail, apparently Nancy fucking Wheeler is going to shoot me in the balls.”

“Oh, yeah, she’s really hot when she does that,” Steve says fondly, and Munson splutters. 

“What, does Wheeler just go around shooting people? Does she even have a gun?”

“Of course Nancy has a gun.” Steve frowns. It was one of the sure things in the universe at this point. The sky is blue, Hawkins is fucked up, and Nancy Wheeler has a gun. “And she doesn’t shoot people, stupid. Well, she shot at Billy, but he deserved it.”

“Billy?” Munson mutters, starting to usher Steve in the direction of home. “Who the fuck is Billy?”

“He was trying to kill her first!” Steve defends. “I hit him with a car before he could, so she was okay.”

“Okay, yeah, sure. Why wouldn’t you hit some guy with a car? 

“It wasn’t some guy,” Steve says. “It was Billy. He was, like, possessed or some shit. Oh, and he beat me up. Total psycho.  And that was before the melted flesh monster.”

Munson stops and stares at him. “You know what, sure. Demonic possession. Yeah, okay. Some guy named Billy kicked your ass—wait, are you talking about Billy Hargrove?”

Steve lights up. “Yeah! You remember that? That’s one of the concussions I was talking about. I gotta wear glasses 'cuza that shit. Man, fuck that guy.”

“Didn’t he die?”

“Oh, yeah,” Steve frowns down at the ground. “Shit, I’m, like, speaking ill of the dead, aren’t I? Max wouldn't like that. Unfuck him, or whatever.”

“You wanna come up?” He asks. “For old times sake?”

Munson stares at him like it’s the craziest thing he’s said all evening. “‘Old times’ was your asshole friends calling me a satan worshiper and pushing me around in hallways, Harrington.”

“I know.” He grins. If he was sober he’d definitely feel worse about that, but as it is he’s pretty single minded. “Don't you kind of want to make me cry about it?”

Deer in headlights isn’t usually a good look, but Munson’s got the eyes to make it work. Or Steve is drunk. Either way, it’s kinda cute. 

“You’re drunk,” he finally says, stumbling over the words a little. If Steve pays close attention and ignores most of reality, it almost sounds like he’s trying to convince both of them. “You’re so incredibly drunk.”

“I’m not that drunk.” He totally is. 

“I just had to supervise you calling Jonathan Byers so you didn’t say something you’d regret in the morning.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Steve asks, offended. “I love Jonathan! I tell him all the time. Just because I said he ruined my life—“

“That was him?”

“Did I not say that? Huh. Whatever. Point is, I’m not that drunk.”

“You’re definitely drunk,” Munson says. “I’m not—yeah, no. I’m not coming up.”

“Damn.” Steve shrugs, not too put out about it. It’s a bummer, sure, but he handles rejection like a champ. Just ask Robin. “Worth a shot. See you ‘round, Munson.”

“Don’t kill me,” Steve says. 

“Oh, god, did you punch him?”

“No, I, uh.” Steve rubs the bridge of his nose. “I think I tried to fuck him.”

He has to hold the phone away from his face so Dustin’s screeching doesn’t break his eardrums. 

“Your exes are weirdly protective of you,” Munson says blandly. “Also, didn’t they date?”

“Yeah,” Steve shrugs, not exactly eager to start spilling his life story again now that he’s sober. Munson doesn’t need to know more about his dating history than he already does. “We’re all a little weird about each other, sorry.”

“Weird about your exes,” he hums. “No wonder you’re single.”

“Oh, fuck you. It’s not like that.”

He raises an eyebrow. “No?”

“Are you always this nosy?” Steve asks, a little waspish. 

“Absolutely,” Munson replies without hesitation. “I’d say sorry, but I’m not. When did you even date him?”

“Dude.”

Munson just cocks an expectant eyebrow, hip resting against the bar. He can’t imagine why someone would be so interested in the romantic lives of their old high school classmates. It’s not like Steve is about to ask what was going on between him and Chrissy Cunningham. 

“Well, Harrington?”

“First grade,” Steve answers, deadpan. He grins when Munson chokes. “Nah, it was actually after he and Nancy broke up. Fall of ‘86.”

Arms squeeze him from behind, and Robin slides into view, leaving one hand wrapped pointedly around Steve’s waist. She gets clingy when she thinks someone is bothering him, or when she’s just on the side of drunk that she gets possessive. She told him, embarrassed and hungover, that it’s because she registers someone he’s getting along with as infringing on “her Steve time.” Steve thinks it’s hilarious and kind of sweet, an obvious lesbian trying to pretend he’s her date. Especially because he gets the same way when he’s tipsy and feels like he doesn’t have enough of her attention, so she can't yell at him for being a cockblock. Cuntblock. Whatever the lesbians call it.

He wonders what category she thinks Eddie is. Of guy, that is. Not block-anything.

He'd actually be pretty damn happy if the guy miraculously changed his mind and decided to sit on his cock instead.

“What’s going on here?” She asks, almost cattily. He loves when Robin gets bitchy. It brings him back to their Scoops days, except he gets to see it turned on someone else. 

“I’m telling Eddie my life story,” Steve says blithely.

“Ugh. Who would want that?”

Eddie grins. “I’m curious about the adventures of a former king.” He dips his head in a bow, waving his hand in a flourish. “I don’t know if you remember me from last time, I’m Eddie—“

“Munson, I know. You stepped on my lunch in junior year.”

Eddie turns beet red in record time. 

“Aww, Robbie,” Steve almost coos. “Leave him alone. I wanted to be the one who made him blush like that.”

“It’s not my fault your boy’s easy.”

“Not my boy, clearly,” he mutters under his breath. “And if he were easy, I’d have gotten fucked by now.”

Eddie’s mouth drops open with a choked little sound. Whoops. Steve forgot volume control again. 

Robin takes one look at Eddie’s face and bursts into cackles. 

“He was asking about,” he waved a hand in the air, “the whole Nancy-Jonathan thing.”

Her eyebrows jut up. “You told him about the threesome?”

“The what?”

Steve sighs. “No, Robin. I did not tell him about the threesome.”

“…oops.”

“When?” Eddie demands. 

Robin gives him the evil eye. “Why are you being weird about this? It’s not gonna make him fuck you.”

Steve wisely keeps his mouth shut. 

Eddie does not. “Your boy here already asked,” he smirks, leaning closer. “I said no.”

Then, as an added punch to his ego, he twirls a strand of Steve’s hair around his finger and tugs slightly. Steve’s too stunned to protest. 

Robin watches the exchange. “Oh, no thank you,” she says. “Nope. I’m out. I don’t want to see whatever this is. Ugh, stop making me hear about your sex life.”

Hypocrite. “We have thin walls, Buckley,” Steve reminds her. He turns to Eddie and stage whispers, “She likes her girls loud.”

“Steve!”

“You do!”

“Oh, because you’re so quiet,” she snaps, smacking him. “How many times have I had to bang on the wall because you couldn’t keep it down? You wanna talk about loud? I know more about you than I ever wanted to.”

His mouth drops open in mortification. “You know it’s rude to be mean to the man who told you how to eat out,” he hisses. 

“I’m not dying without fucking Eddie Munson,” he declares. “I mean, his high school nickname was literally ‘The Freak.’ He’s got to be good in bed, right?”

“I think that was mostly because everyone thought he was communing with the Devil or something.”

“Maybe the Devil gave him sex magic.”

“Of course he thinks I’m cute.”

“I do?”

“Do you not?” Steve turns to him, widening his eyes in the same pout that always has Robin throwing something at his face, or the kids reluctantly agreeing to do what he wants. He’s found it’s useful for guys too, especially if he ducks his head to seem smaller and looks through his eyelashes. Makes them imagine him looking like that on his knees. 

Munson is no exception. He melts faster than Steve can say gotcha. “You’re very cute, Harrington,” he purrs, and Robin snorts into her drink. 

“You’re a weak, weak man, Eddie Munson,” she tells a blushing Eddie. Then she kicks Steve. “Stop bringing out the ‘fuck me’ eyes when I’m around, I’ll gag.”

“You could leave.”

She gasps, affronted, and kicks him harder.

“So you would fuck me if I wasn’t drunk?”

“Uh…” he looks everywhere but Steve’s face, which is just rude. He has a very nice face. He’s been called dreamy before. 

Which made Robin laugh so hard she fell off the couch when he told her, but he’ll take the lesbian’s opinion with a grain of salt. 

He makes his way onto the dance floor. He’s not a particularly good dancer, but he shakes his ass like he means it. Gets up close with a guy, stares at Eddie the whole time. Keeping eye contact as the guy puts his hands on his hips. 

Look, he means to say. This could be you. You could lose your chance if you’re not careful. 

From the burning in Eddie’s eyes, he gets the message. 

The message is a bunch of bullshit. It’s been over four months, he’s in too deep to go fuck off with someone else now. Still, he enjoys the way Eddie’s hands flex on his thighs, like he had to stop himself from reaching out. 

The thing is, Steve’s not an asshole. He can take a hint. No means no, and all that jazz. If Eddie really didn’t want him, he’d fuck right off and find someone who did. He even started to.

Except Eddie pouted up a storm when he flirted with someone else. Got even clingier when Steve tried to back off. At this point, he’s accepted that Eddie does want to fuck him, and maybe even be more (no one flirts with someone as long as they’ve been doing without wanting something like a relationship out of it. At least, he hopes there’s something more on the horizon), but has some weird hang up about Steve being even a little bit buzzed when it happens. Even though they only ever see each other at this fucking bar.

The problem is Steve has no idea when Eddie will be at the bar. He’ll stay sober one night, hoping to see him, and then go home alone only for next time to be when he sees telltale curls and a wide smile. It’s driving him up the wall. 

Robin has been similarly affected.

“It’s been six months,” she growls as Steve looks eagerly around. “Six fucking months of you two dancing around in the worlds most annoying mating ritual. I’m going to kill both of you.”

“We’re not that bad,” he says absently. 

“You don’t even have his phone number. It’s pathetic. I swear to God, if you see him again and don’t get laid I’m reviving the scoops board. I will go out and buy a whiteboard to keep track of all the times you strike out with a man who used to walk on tables. He stepped on my lunch, Steve. Do I need to keep bringing up the fact he stepped on my delicious, nutritious PB&J? I can’t believe that’s the guy you decide to be obsessed with, that’s so fucking embarrassing for you.”

“Embarrassing? You mean like your crush on my ex girlfriend?”

She screeches wordlessly, pulling her keychain off her belt loop and attacking him with it. 

Naturally, that’s how Eddie finds them. 

“I swear you guys get weirder every time I see you.”

Steve grins guilelessly at him, holding a flailing Robin in a headlock. 

“Eddie! Hey! It’s been a minute.” He hasn’t been able to come in a month, and it’s been longer since he’s seen him. It’s honestly one of the deciding factors on whether it’s a passing fancy or a full blown crush. He still went to sleep every night thinking about Eddie. It didn’t even have to be about sex. 

Although maybe not sleeping with anyone else for half a year should have tipped him off sooner. 

“Sure has, big boy. I was starting to think you were getting sick of me.” It’s a joke, but Steve catches an undercurrent of insecurity. 

“That’d make my life easier,” Robin snorts. She finally wiggles her way out of his hold. “I saw Arty somewhere around here, I’m gonna see if I can crash at her place tonight.” She levels Eddie with a look. “He hasn’t had anything to drink. If you don’t put him out of his misery, I will. And it won’t be the good kind. It will be the bad kind. With bad screams. Lots of screaming, and someone will call the pigs, and I’ll be arrested and jailed for life. Do you want me to go to jail, Munson?”

Eddie shakes his head dumbly. 

“Good! Then do something about it.” She slaps Steve’s back, a mocking echo of his jock days. “Go get ‘em, slugger!” 

With that, she’s gone, disappearing into the crowd. 

“She is,” Steve remarks with amusement, “the worst wingman on planet Earth. Mars too, probably.”

“I dunno, I think it might be working.”

“I’m not doing anything without a condom,” he says, eyes narrowed like he’s waiting for an argument. 

“Me neither,” Steve agrees. “Robin has, like, this big fear of diseases. Totally got me with it. She pulled out the library books, those pictures were fucking disgusting. Shit showed up in my dreams, man. Neither of us do anything without protection.”

“I’m going to be totally honest with you, because I haven’t been and it’s starting to eat at me,” Eddie says, hovering above Steve. 

Steve wrinkles his nose. “What is it? Are you a spy or something? Are you Russian? Do you have superpowers? Is your name not actually Eddie?” He pauses. “Oh, God, you’re not even Eddie Munson, are you? I’m just some asshole who’s been calling you by my old classmates name and you were too embarrassed to correct me. Shit, we made so much fun of you for walking on tables too—“

“What?” Eddie covers his mouth, expression hovering between amused and baffled. “What the fuck, why would I go along with that? No, Jesus, I’m Eddie Munson. Moved to Hawkins when I was eleven, took senior year three times, walked on the fucking tables, could you let that go?” He moves the hand covering Steve’s mouth to play with his hair, looking annoyed for a minute before it smoothes to trepidation. “No, I, uh, I just felt like I needed to tell you that I used to have a hate-boner for you in high school. Like, I used to jack it to the thought of kicking your ass and making a mess outta you. In more ways than one.”

Steve stares. 

“Also, that’s kind of why I approached you in the bar in the first place,” Eddie blabbers on. “And then you said you were just there for a friend, and I was disappointed but it’s whatever, yanno? And then then you told me about your dad, and threw my expectations to the fucking wolves, and then you asked me to come up to your apartment except you were drunk and you probably didn’t mean it. But then the next time I saw you, you kept flirting with me, which you were not supposed to do, and I kept pretending that wasn’t the reason I even talked to you in the first place, and, uh, yeah.” He smiles nervously. “Surprise?”

“I mean, not really.”

“You’re such an asshole, fuck off. At least pretend to be shocked.”

“It’s not my fault you stare at my legs all the time,” Steve says, affronted. “I know I didn’t do too good in school, but I’m not dumb enough to miss that. Like, hello, my eyes are up here.”

Eddie lets his arms give out, flopping on top of Steve heavily. Steve wheezes. “Am I really that obvious?” He whines into his shoulder. 

“You got sad and pouty when I even looked at another guy.”

“You could’ve fucked him,” he mumbles. “The guy you were dancing with. It wasn’t any of my business. I’m a big boy, I can deal.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t want to fuck him,” Steve says. “I wanted to fuck you. Can we go back to that please?”

“Thought I was fucking you.”

“Someone’s getting fucked or Robin will kill both of us. I’d like to live tomorrow morning. And not have to deal with any more of her teasing for having no game.”

“You have unfortunate amounts of game,” Eddie sighs, tracing the side of Steve’s neck. It tickles. “It’s kind of embarrassing for me.”

“Yeah, yeah, are we using those condoms or not, Moodkiller?”

“Oh, I’m the mood killer?”

“Yes,” Steve says matter of factly, and pulls him in for a kiss before he can protest.

[ch4nb4ng]

Marital Duties

Pairing: Chan x afab!reader

Word count: 9.4k

Genre: Established relationship, married

Warning: SMUT (18+ only), phone sex, sexting, car sex, mention of boobs, oral sex (f. receving), penetration, swearing, mention of cum, mentions of pussy, kissing, praise

Note: ok i kinda nervous to post this but yas! Here is my inspo (here) (here) (here) warning it’s literally p word.

Tagged: @seo--changbin @j-0ne25 @cb97whoree @kpopsstuffs

Summary: Having a job that meant travelling and spending time away from your husband made the absence grow much fonder for you and your needs, as well as your husbands.

Work conferences were the bane of your existence. Yes you were away from your kid and sometimes it was hard, but being away from your husband was harder. There was no doubt about your job. Being a world renowned forensic psychologist was amazing and something you wanted for a long time. Sometimes though, it was nice to just curl up on the couch, read a good book, watch a comforting movie; there was nothing wrong with indulging in self-care, you just did not have the time to do so. 

The recent promotion into becoming head of the north-west region of mental health care was a big step up from your previous job. No one than you was more qualified for this. Everyone, colleagues and board members put your name up. Psychology was your life, but your family was bigger. 

Highschool sweethearts, you and your husband had been inseparable since what felt like the dawn of time. Meeting at 15, having your first dance at 17 at prom. Graduating and going to college together; If you had a dollar for everytime you accomplished a big milestone with him or because of him, you would be swimming in luxury. When the two of you got married, things just fell into place even more. The doubt of being able to help people mentally after graduating from your post grad made you nervous, but then again, you never thought that you would be married to such a wonderful man. A dream job at your local hospital fell into your lap, and your husband became the nurse that everybody wanted to assist them with their care. Working in close contact with him everyday was just another blessing in disguise; you simply could not get enough of him. It was impossible to get sick of him.

That was when you decided to have your first child. What could be a better mix than the two of you combined? The first 4 years of parenthood came with its challenges. Nevertheless, it was the best decision you ever made, and you couldn’t think of anyone better than to share the unfamiliar journey with.

The promotion, however, meant that you wouldn't work with your husband as much, and spending time with your daughter was a little limited, but you knew he would never tell you to turn something down, and in a way it was the best decision for your marriage. The times together were shorter, but it also meant that every moment was savored tenfold. The time was better quality, the acts of service more thoughtful, and the sex. The sex, was that much more passionate, just like the first time he made love to you. He would always find ways to surprise you. Whether it was the way he grasped, grabbed you on the fibers that lingered to be touched, the way his body pressed upon yours, lips lingering on new places. You were always amazed with how much he could do, and what he was capable of.

These are the ideas that tortured your mind when you were away on business trips. Calling him and hearing his voice, seeing his face through the tiny phone screen was not enough. It didn’t matter how long you had been together, you always craved and missed him significantly.

“Hang on,” he whispered through the phone speaker, “someone wants to say hi to you.”

Your heart beamed with joy every time you saw her little face on the screen. God she looked like her dad, and you knew she'd  grow up to be a beautiful woman.

“Hi mommy,” she giggled, fingers crinkling then uncrkinly as she waved at the camera, “I miss you mommy.”

“Aw baby,” you pouted, “I miss you too. Mommy will be home tomorrow. Now it’s time for you to sleep.”

“Yes,” he cooed, “and daddy is going to read you a bedtime after you say goodnight to mommy.”

Your baby squealed with joy, running out of the frame and to her room. You could do nothing but chuckles, careless that she was that excited over a book of words that she forgot to say goodnight.

“Let me call you back at 15.”

You nodded, pressing the red cross before rolling on your back and looking up at the ceiling, admiring the off white paint color, heart beating out of your chest every second that the callback was not made. It’s not that you were worried he wouldn’t call back, you just felt that longing you always did when you weren’t looking at him.

The vibration on your chest was extra sensitive. You rolled back over, now lying on your front with your hand resting on your chin, other hand holding the phone as you answered. 

“Hey baby.”

“Hiiii,” you whispered, a smile on your face impossible to be rid of.

“She was out like a light.”

“I’m glad.”

“How was your day, baby? I want to hear all about it.”

You giggled as you saw him get up, walking into the bathroom of your house as he placed you against the bench next to the sink. Chan wasn’t shy. He thought it was completely normal to remove his scrubs and leave his upper body bare as he bent down to the bottom drawer, taking out his skincare and placing it on his face. Chan was your husband. You had seen him shirtless 100 more times than you could count. It should not affect you this much. It should not make the temperature of your cheeks rise. It should not cause a sudden sharpness of change in your breath. It should not make your eyes bulge, and it should definitely not send you into a head spin when his biceps flexed when washing his face. Being a clinical psychologist meant having pristine precision and concentration, so if anybody got a hold of this live footage right now, they might question your profession.

“Y/n, Y/n?”

You blinked, quickly snapping your head to get back in the game. It was too late, however, your husband was already smirking at your distraction. You could try and play it off, but the both of you knew that he was too smart to fall for that.

“Sorry babe, I’m a bit distracted.”

“Oh yeah? What’s distracting you?”

“Oh please,” you scoffed, “you know exactly what you are doing.”

“Me?” He gasped, placing a hand on his chest, flexing his opposite bicep, “I have no idea what you're talking about.”

You couldn’t help but smile at his obvious attempt to woo you over, the subtle flirt. Sometimes it was easy to resist, but in this case, it was easier to play along, feign innocence until he truly told you what he wanted. The two of you liked to play such games, especially when you were on the road. It was time for you to sit up, placing Chan on the lamp atop of the bedside table before placing yourself on the edge of the hotel bed. The buttons on your shirt were suddenly feeling a little tight. The smirk on your husband’s face grew the moment he saw the first two buttons undone, a sneak peak of your cleavage making its debut for the night. You stopped there, gently pulling down the fabric, stretching the collar of the shirt, consequently putting your chest on full display. 

“Two can play that game Mr. Bang.”

A deep chuckle escaped his lips as he walked over to your shared bedroom, placing his phone in similar fashion to yours before removing his bottoms, your husband now in nothing but his boxers as he laid down, stretching out his legs before lifting you again, wanting the closest view to your fingers continuing to remove one button at a time, a painfully slow movement to your fingertips. Fuck. Now he kind of regretted starting this game with you tonight. A gasp of gratification spilt from Chan’s lips as he watched the satin material that made up your shirt slither off those, in his words, gorgeous shoulders of yours. The black lace bra, the one being your husband’s favorites out of pure coincidence the only garment covering your chest. 

Chan loved every part of you, make no mistake. He would worship every part of your body 24/7 if he could. He simply could never get enough of you, but your chest, your breasts were on a whole different level. Chan loved your boobs. It didn’t matter what the two of you were doing, promiscuous acts or not, if he could have his hands on them, he could. Cuddling, sex, hugs; call him a pervert, but he didn’t care. It was his wife for god sakes. He would feel abnormal if he wasn’t attracted to them. Conveniently for you, this was something you could play to your advantage. Didn’t want to do the dishes? Show him your cleavage. Needed to put your daughter to sleep but you wanted him to do it? Promise him to show your cleavage after he does so. It was a convenient weapon to use, and this was the perfect time to use it. It was fair, seeing as he was using the weapon of his own to try and get you where he wanted.

“Aw come on,” he whined, “you did that on purpose?”

“Did what,” you smiled, fingers gently tracing the lace attached to the strap, “I didn’t do anything.”

Tapping the phone screen, you sighed. It was like, and your flight home was something that required you getting up much earlier that you would ever prefer. You should go to sleep. Hang up on him. You were going to see him tomorrow anyway, surely you could suppress your urges until then. 

But then you saw your husband redirect his palm from the outside of his undergarment, which was obvious to the eye, to the inside, a gentle slap against his skin as it dived past the waist band. Fuck this was cruel now. Not only because you could see his hands subtly tumbling underneath, he drew attention to how hard he already was, and you didn’t know what aroused you more: his probaby pulsating length or the fact that he was as aroused as he was because of you. It didn’t matter how many times it occurred, Chan always had a way of making you feel special. Physically, emotionally, intimately; it was part of his aura, and one of the main reasons that you were so attracted to him in the first place.

“Baby,” you gasped, hands traveling up waist and to your chest, gently kneading the mass in an attempt to match his slow pace that he was palming himself, “you’re so naughty. I have to go to bed.”

“Aw come on baby,” he groaned, head resting atop the headboard, gaze even more piercing at the angle his head was at rest, “I haven’t seen you all week.”

“I know Chan,” you sighed, your next words going to be knowingly disappointing for him, “I have to check out at 3am and it’s already almost 10. You know what I’m like when I don't get my beauty sleep.”

Chan gave you a disapproving pout as he took his hands out of boxers, a shiny ring reappearing from the undergarment as he took the phone with both and lay flat on his back, sinking under the sheets and head gliding onto the pillow. He was humbly accepting defeat, most likely because he would see you tomorrow anyway; that’s when he could have his fun.

“I know baby it’s ok,” he smiled, bringing his face as close as possible to the camera, lips still pouting, “let me give you a kiss goodnight.”

“Thank you baby,” you giggled, also leaning forward to kiss the phone screen simultaneously before whispering a small, “goodnight.”

It didn’t take long for you to fall asleep, and the adrenaline from your almost raunchy rendezvous over the phone wore off quickly. You weren’t that young anymore. Getting tired was much easier. There was much less energy, especially after getting riled up like that. Even if it was what you saw while you were sleeping in your dreams, and you only have to wait 12 hours to see your beautiful husband in the flesh. 

***

The alarm caused a fright, a deep groaning sound of annoyance bellowing from you, but that quickly wore off. The immediate thought of seeing Chan and your beautiful daughter being the main reason for your sudden change in temperament. Your bags were already packed and you organized your brain knowing that you would be too tired to do it in the morning The smile on your face couldnt dared to be wiped off once you were in the taxi. The cool breeze of the warm summer hitting your face as you pushed the window in the back seat halfway down. Summer was your favorite time of the year, especially since it was the time you got to spend with your family that was of the best quality. All of the aspects of your job you loved, even the times you traveled. However, your heart did sink a little when you had to travel at this time of the year. The school holidays always felt too short, so when you had to travel, the amount was even shorter.

A ding from your phone brought out of your somewhat solemn daze, heat creeping to your cheeks immediately:

[hubby <3] 7:00 am Can’t wait to see you, hope there aren't any delays at the airport.

*one attachment*

Jesus fuck. Now sending a full blown dick pick with your daughter in the car, which you assumed was there, was definitely not the way to go; and thank god your husband knew that. But that did not let him off the hook. It was a photo of him, in the mirror, with his face cut off and only his lips in the frame. He was wearing a black sleeveless tank and those fucking grey tracksuit pants. Call yourself cliche, but nothing turned you on more than that particular piece of clothing. Chan had one hand on the camera, the other hand at the base of his hardened length. He always did this. As mature as Chan was, the times he chose to be inappropriate truly were the most inconvenient for you. A loud gasp escaped your lips, head almost hitting the chair in front as the driver came to a halt.

“Everything okay back there?”

“Uh yes,” your head snapped towards him, nodding furiously as a terrible attempt at acting in the norm, “why did we stop?”

“We are at the airport, miss?”

His tone sounded one of question, kind of looking at you in the rear mirror like you were one of the strangest passengers he had. You looked outside, a ferocious laugh escaping your lips as you decided it was better to say nothing and just pay, get out, and grab your own luggage. The awkwardness left your mind in shambles. How dare he send such a photo. Your husband. It was most likely to get revenge from last night, because he knew you would have to sit on the plane and suffer in silence.

Your luggage was checked in quickly, security easy to get through; there was plenty of time to wait in the boarding lounge. At first you were annoyed by the message. The sexual frustration that had already accumulated from your absence away from him was enough, but if anything, it felt like this was an extra punishment for last night.

But then you opened it again, started analyzing it (if you could call it that) until your finger was subconsciously in your mouth. It didn’t matter how many times you looked at him, your husband, he was always going to do it for you, every single time. The ache that has been coming and going throughout the week returned, and it made you annoyed. So annoyed that you found yourself lifting your butt from your chair, walking to the bathroom and locking yourself in one of the stalls. Gripping the bottom of your shirt, you pulled it down as much as you could without taking it off, mimicking a downward looking angle in an attempt to copy your husband, lips down as the camera clicked, off silent. Fuck. It’s fine. The idea that people may have heard the sounds of you taking a photo in the toilet. You were too fueled with a horny rage to think of the ramifications as you sent your photo, giving in and responding to him.

[Y/N] 8:30am No delays. Make sure you’re there on time.

*one attachment*

Oh, he was gonna hate that. Chan had patience for a lot of things. But short, dry messages were something that made him mad. Serves him for sending you that first. You knew exactly what his reaction would be as well, but at least you could board the plane in peace.

**

It was around 3 hours before the plane arose from one location and landed in another. The plane ride was painful. You tried to do the things you usually would. Create drafts for your patients, read a book, watch a downloaded netflix movie, and just sink into your non-reclining chair and relax; but you simply couldn’t.

The brain rot that was the simple image of your husband’s half naked torso should not be affecting you this much. But that was the problem too. It wasn’t just the picture. That image was the catalyst for the sexual rumination that had been numbing your brain for the past week. The want to get home was even stronger now knowing that you really had something to look forward to.

Of course, to your dismay and longing, the baggage claim took forever, security had a long line, and by the time all of that had been completed, it was, of course, an hour schedule that you told your husband to come and pick you up. The look on his face was sour to say the least. There he was, leaning against the exterior of your shared four wheel drive, drinking his probably now lukewarm coffee. The tingle instantly came back to your core, feeling like a teenage girl again. The scene was just like old times. Chan, waiting around the corner from your house to come and pick you up. The only thing that was different was that it was slightly taller, and had a few more wrinkles. Nonetheless, he looked super hot. Still wearing those grey sweatpants, and a fucking black tank. A fucking blank tank that was probably the tightest fitting pieceing of clothing in his fucking closet. His stance was strong, biceps, triceps, and ¾ of his pecs bulging out in public, and it was truly making your brain dizzy. You walked over quietly, the jarring sound of your suitcase wheels rolling along the parking lot concrete ruining the suspense of your arrival. Chan’s head snapped, eye widening the moment you appeared in his vision. 

“Hi baby, sorry I’m late the customs took for-”

The interruption was welcome as Chan shoved his phone in his pocket, apparently with an empty takeaway coffee cup falling to the floor as he enveloped you into his arms, a groan of admiration falling from his lips as they immediately attached to yours, your body to relaxing against his, eyes fluttering shut at his touch. God, it was only a week. One week, but you craved his touch more than anything in the world. It truly was the little things such as his calloused textures, the warmth of his skin, his smile. Holy fuck his smile was, in your opinion, the greatest thing in the world that ever existed. 

“Mmmh,” you hummed, gently pulling away, hands snaking across your husband’s waist, a smug smile on your lips, “I missed you.”

“Missed you too baby,” he growled, morning raspiness to his tone, “how was your flight?”

The implication of his question made your eyes ogle, the visual image of his text message imprinting on your brain. The smirk that developed on his face formed the expression of realization that hit you. Suddenly his grip on your waist was tighter, and Chan was pulling you in even closer, leaving you to feel everything; yes, everything. 

“It was good,” you giggled, knowing that you had been caught, “what was not good was your behavior since last night.”

“Hmm is that so? I don't see this being a one-sided activity?”

Your right hand left his torso, smacking him on the chest before taking a step back and walking to the car. It was fun to pretend to be annoyed, especially because you knew it would work your husband up even more. Chan hated when you sulked, especially when he playfully called you out. Chan always liked games, and so did you, because you knew that there was always one thing it would lead to. The longer the game went on, the more passionate the ending to this game would be. You walked into the car, peacefully sitting in the passenger seat as you left your husband to take your suitcase and place it in the boot. Serves him right for being a smartass. There was no sound except for the car door once the two of you were inside. The ignition was turned on, and so were you, watching your husband's arm reach over to the shoulder of your car seat, his head turned to look behind him. This was so dumb! You really should not be aroused by this; you’ve seen him do this thousands of times.

“You okay babe?”

You shook your head, snapping yourself out of this lustful daze, “yeah, why?”

“Ok it’s just,” he paused, shifting into drive, then placing his hand on the inside of your thigh, “you’re staring at me like a piece of meat.”

“I am not,” you scoffed, “you wish I was staring at you like that.”

He said nothing, a light chuckle following as the car fell into another silence. A comfortable one at that, well, to an extent. His thumb was gently nudging at your skin, knuckles inching closer to your center. There was something in the air, and the longer it lingered, the harder it was to ignore it. The want. The need to have him. It was impossible. You knew that even if you did get home soon that your daughter was home, and there was no way you were going to traumatize her like that; kids remember everything. If you took too long in the car, your father would get suspicious. He was one to get on your nerves like that, especially if he spent more time than agreed to watching your beautiful child. 

“I got your text message this morning.”

Chan’s eyes were on the road, which forced you to keep yours. Your eyebrows furrowed however, knowing that the street he just turned down was not the right way to your house. Instead, Chan turned the opposite direction, the car coming to an immediate stop at a lookout, but not just any lookout. The lookout east. The two of you came from a small town, meaning there weren't many spots to go; that was until the lookout east was uncovered. Back then it was the talk of the town, the go to hookup spot for many. You have seen it yourself. It had a beautiful view however, and most of the time you and Chan would go just to admire the view, but did not mean that every time would be an innocent one. The two of you had not been in years, and there was a big question mark as to why you were here right now. Chan said nothing, getting out of the car and walking over to your side, opening your own door before opening the back door, crawling in with you following. The two of you got comfortable, that was, until Chan pinned you down to the back seat, lips once again attacking yours as he pressed his horny groin into yours, a deep groan bellowing from your husband's chest. His dominance was easy to comply with, the desperate moan falling from your lips a culmination of feelings from the past 12 hours. This really could have been the horniest you have ever been in your whole entire life, even including the times of excessive sexual hormonal changes during pregnancy. His tongue snaked past your lips, without any slight of permission as his hips fell into a gentle rhythm. Chan moved with such delicacy and poise, yet somehow he was able to convey his ultra high level of arousal. Now you were in big trouble; it was serious business when Chan pinned you down like that. It meant he had serious business to take care of. 

“Chan,” you tried to speak, his lips interrupting each word, “what, are you doing?”

He pulled away, sitting up. Chan said nothing, eyes fixated on your chest as he grasped your wrist to pull you up, your body clumsily falling into him as you fixed your balance. Chan was quick to attack your lips again, hands making light work as they gripped onto the edge of your shirt. Your arms lifted unconsciously, allowing the kiss to break as he took off your shirt, your upper body in nothing but your undergarments. Your husband was like a kid in a candy store the moment he saw the slightest bit of cleavage. Chan’s arms wrapped around your back as he effortlessly unclasped the unwanted fabric, lips immediately attaching to your left nipple. A gracious moan fell from your lips, a hand tickling the back of the hair at the base of his skull, keeping a guidance. At first this tongue was small, gentle. A few kitty licks right in the center. Although it was minimal touch, you were one to have more sensitive nipples, so the feeling was already heaven enough. It wasn’t until his entire mouth was attached, a parietal noise of vacuum escaping his lips each time your tit went in and out of his mouth. 

“Mmmmm,” you hummed, back arching slightly at the subtle texture of his teeth, “you’re like fuckin newborn.”

“Mhh can’t help it,” he huffed, out of breath, hand replacing his lips for a brief moment, “makes me want to have another kid.”

Chan gave you no time to reply, lips resuming their position, but now on the opposite nipple. His fingers never stopped moving, either on your shoulder, running up and down your arms, but mainly on your breasts, doing whatever he can to feel you. Each squeeze of the mound brought a whine to your throat. His statement ran through your mind and just stayed there. Having another kid was not really something the two of you had ever spoken about. It wasn’t that it was off the table, no. It truly was just something that had not come up in conversation. You could understand why he wanted to have one, and in this moment especially, it had nothing to do with having an actual child. 

It is true that when you met your husband, your body shape resembled more of a P, but when you were pregnant with your daughter, Chan was on another planet. Any chance he got, his hands were on them. Call him twisted, but he loved how much bigger and softer they got when you were deep into pregnancy.

When you came back out of thought, and the major distraction of your husband's lips on your body, you pushed him away gently. You followed the sort of harsh motion with a gentle peck to his lips, arm wrapping around his neck as you smiled at him in disbelief. The last chance the two of you, well more him, had been so reckless like this was so long ago you would not even be able to recall. This didn’t mean you hated it though, if anything, it satisfied that little part of your adolescence that lingered. The adolescence that was always sparked whenever you were away. Whenever your calls turned to a lustful space. The photos. The phone calls. Usually the ‘rebellious’ behaviors were to compensate for the distance. But now, Chan was hungry for you, even when you were right in front of him.

“Babe, what has gotten into you?”

Your husband buried his face into your chest, a large breath filling his nostrils, your scent deeply satisfying him before he responded. 

“I just missed you a lot, baby. And that picture you sent drove me fucking wild.”

A smirk appeared on your lips, legs hovering over your husband's waist before encasing the lower limbs around his waist, a light amount of friction created by the swift move of your hips makes him hum in pleasure. Your eyes, now sitting on top of his lap, gazed over, looking down on the poor man. There was a slight emotion of guilt there. Depriving him of getting what he wanted. You didn't really care though. If anything, pissing him off usually led to better sex after, and there was nothing in this moment that you wanted more. 

“Mmmh, as much as I want this,” you mumbled, another soft kiss in between your sentences, “I need to go home and see my daughter which I have not seen in a week.” 

“You’re right,” Chan chuckled, “I am getting a little bit carried away, aren't I?” 

Yeah he was impatient, but he understood, and it was one thing you really loved about him. He was extremely empathetic, sometimes to a fault. Able to put himself in everyone else’s shoes. So as soon as you mentioned wanting to see your daughter more, he understood. He passed you your bra and shirt, quickly helping you put them back on, not without stealing another mouth watering kiss, and hopping back into the driving and passenger seat promptly. 

The drive was once again peaceful; which lasted around 30 seconds. Maybe it was a better idea to just fuck in the back of your car, because the ache between your legs, when reflecting on the past week, was at the most intense it had been. Maybe this was your karma for withholding your body from your very eager husband. It didn’t matter now because whether you liked it or not, all of this was going to have been scheduled at a much later, uncertain time.

Chan’s hand was placed on your thigh like before, the light background and the noise somewhat distracting you, but not for long. Your husband’s grip was getting stronger and stronger, inching closer and closer to your wanting pussy with each second. A sharp gasp left your lips when his middle finger traced over the hem of your jeans, your level of arousal heightened to the point where even the breeze most likely was enough to partly satisfy yourself.

“Chan.”

“Y/n.”

“Stop it,” you whined, fingers coincidentally fidgeting with the button of your jeans, following the same direction with your zipper before the pair of pants were below your waist, your bottom undergarments now on display. You looked down, embarrassed at the mass wet patch coating your panties. Your husband's hands took a little bit of a wander, but froze almost immediately when he felt that familiar patch he had felt oh so many times. The digits were quick to act, another moan spelling from your mouth as soon as he got you in the exact spot he knew to touch. That were the perks of having a husband, because whether the time of orgasm was long or short, he knew exactly where to touch you to make that happen.

“Your body is having the opposite reaction,” he smirked, “and my eyes are strictly on the road.”

“And keep it that way.”

“Mhmm,” he ignored, fingers somehow able to push your panties to the side, raw fingertips now spreading open those pussy lips. God you felt dirty, nasty. How could you do this in your fucking car? Too horny to even wait until you were in the comfort of your bedroom. You were much too harsh on yourself. It was most definitely your husband's fault for opening that can of worms the moment he rocked up on the facetime camera without his shirt on. Therefore, your humility was minimized, there were always much worse things you could have done. Chan was easily able to find that wanting little entrance of yours, two fingers effortlessly plunging themselves inside, the unsympathetic texture of his hard working fingers gently scratching the velvet interior of your walls, hips now gently rocking back and forth on him. Your hands came to your breasts automatically, pinching, twisting, flicking the sensitive buds in any way possible that could create a replica of Chan’s mouth from previous moments. Fuck, no one else could do you like your husband, even yourself.

“Fuck Chan,” you whimpered, covering your face in embarrassment.

“Shh it’s okay,” he cooed, coaxing you through his honey textured tone, “just let it feel good, worry about other things later.”

Just as you let your head fall against the headrest, eye fluttering shut, the car came to a halt. Eyes flying open, a mound of disappointment when your visual fields were filled with your front yard. To your dismay, your husband withdrew his fingers from your pussy, a large squelching sound in the moment as he placed his hands on the gear shift, placing the toe of your into park before turning the car ignition off. The look you were giving your husband now was one of sadness, despair, making him laugh. He loved when you were dramatic.

“You’re not happy to be home?”

“Shut up,” you huffed, redoing your pants up before storming out of the car, forcing your husband to grab your suitcase as you stood impatiently at the front door, waiting for him to open it. It would be impossible to wipe the puffed up look of content on his face, knowing that he got right under your skin. Games were fun to play, but you simply knew that if he didn’t give you what you wanted soon, the house would fall into chaos. It was one thing to wind you up, but this time it was too far to push through, then stop just when things were getting good.

A fake smile plastered on your face, the refreshing thought of seeing your daughter coming back into your mind as you walked through your abode. It faded however, unable to see or hear anything that resembled your little baby. It wasn’t until you walked down your long hallway that led to your kitchen that you saw the note on your marble bench. It read the following:

Hi Darling, hope you had a safe flight!

I have taken my beautiful granddaughter to the park for a playdate with a couple of her friends and the other available parents. 

We are leaving at around midday, and won’t be back for a few couple hours. Apologies you will have to wait a little longer, but I couldn’t say no to her beating eyes when she asked me.

I'll see you when I’m looking at you.

Dad

“Chan!”

Your timbre was loud, somewhat frightening your husband as he rolled your luggage across the floor, meeting you in your shared kitchen. He was kind of worried. Chan knew that your dad was taking care of her while he went to pick you up, but he never said anything about taking her out. He stood next to you, trying to analyze your expressions before you spoke. You missed your daughter a lot, there was nothing false about that statement. Nonetheless, when the smug look came to your face at the thought of what having an empty house implied, you couldn't help yourself. 

“Did you know that my dad took her to the park?”

Oh fuck. Chan thought he was in trouble; big big trouble. 

You bit down on your bottom lip, trying to suppress your smile at how hopeless he looked. Being the medical professional you were, it was easy to read your husband like a book. And after his actions, which were already on the verge of crossing the threshold of what you would put up with, he was in his every right mind to react this way. Walking on eggshells was the right way to go. From his friskiness on the phone, to sending an almost naked picture to you in public, to publicly groping and prodding at your highly aroused body in the discomfort of your car, to now delaying your reunion with his daughter; my my my did he dig himself a massive grave that he would not be able to dig himself out of this one. 

“No,” he answered, hesitance leaking from his tone, “she must have asked him after I left.”

“Right,” you paddled, handing the note your dad had left to your husband. A sigh of relief in the form of his chest falling from the fat breath he sucked in before dissipating from his chest. Taking a step close, your husband ignored, focusing all his efforts on the written material until he felt the texture of what was your fingertips find a place on his torso, index fingers ‘accidentally’ finding a way underneath the hem of the thin material that made up his shirt. The note was removed from your husband’s face in the form of a toss with his own hand, eyes piercing into yours the more and more the skin of his torso was being exposed to the light. Your palms then became a part of the conversation, gently pressing against your husband's groin as you could feel his length awake from a light slumber.

“Why am I sensing that you’re not mad now?”

“Me,” You gasped, feigning ignorance as you finally pulled the flimsy material over your husband’s head, “I was never mad?”

“You weren’t?”

“No Mr. Bang,” you giggled, wrapping your hands around your husband’s neck once more, “Mad that you have been teasing me for almost 24 hours straight?”

Chan didn’t answer, instead sweeping your legs off the floor and into your arms, carrying your bridal style back down the said hallway, bedroom door conveniently already open as he laid you down on your back. A hum of happiness fell from your lips at the familiar feeling of your own bed sheets encompassing your back. You were brought out of those thoughts quickly however, your husband left you little to revel in bed texture, removing his sweats immediately before lifting you by the armpits again, leaving you to stand and him sitting on the edge of your shared mattress. The invitation of your barely dressed husband with a pressing erection straining his boxers was a very enticing seat. One that you took without a second thought as his hands were straight for your throat, a gentle squeeze as your lips connected first, legs cloaking his waist once more, the both of your tongues fighting for dominance over each other. Chan’s mouth vibrated as he relaxed into the sensual nature of the kiss, hands drifting away from your upper body and right to the outside of your thighs, a gentle tingle of fingertips dancing across your heated skin as you pulled away from a brief moment, wanting to match at least half of his body in the lack of clothing. Your husband helped as he withdrew his hands from your body for a brief moment, deciding to, rather than pull your nice shirt over your head like a normal person, he pulled the seams apart, splitting the shirt into two before using one hand only to unclasp your bra this time. It would be a lie if you said you weren’t impressed by it everytime.

“I liked that shirt,” you pouted, “did you have to rip it?” “I’m sorry y/n,” he chuckled, hands snaking up your sides another time, “I just want you so badly.”

There was no time to react as your husband gripped your hips, spinning you around and pinning you into the mattress. His second attack followed impeccably, hands fumbling on your jeans before getting them undone, panties groped in unison as they hit the side wall. That was an irrelevant detail, because Chan was lying on his front, abs rubbing against your core as he brought his hands back to your tits; his most favorite thing in the world. The man could not keep his hands still, mouth slobbering all over the sensitive skin as he began his second attack of the day on your nipples. 

“Never gets old,” you giggle, a gentle moan following after at the contrast of your flimsy mounds and rock hard nubs. Chan’s hands felt like no other, and when he had them on you, it was the time when you felt like the luckiest woman in the world. Your husband’s chuckles followed closely to yours. Seeing his wife happy was one thing, but knowing that he could make you feel this good aroused him to another level. His admiration deepend, yes, but it was somewhat of an ego boost for him. Knowing that he was that good with his fingers. 

Your husband’s lips, like his hands, began to wander, a strip of wet kisses trailing down the center of your stomach, causing him to crawl back further and further until his lips were just above your core. Chan brought his fingers right back to where he had them in the car, easily able to slip in two fingers without warning, a deep groan gritting his teeth at the way your back arched for him monumentally. The sight was one that he had been craving, one that you craved yourself. It did not matter how far apart you were from your husband, his appetite for you would never change. If he wanted to be close, he wanted to be close. If he wanted to be far, well that was just simply not plausible. As much as he wanted to pleasure you, make you feel good, like the diligent role of a husband should be, it was the closeness that motivated him every time. Chan longed for these moments, especially since the introduction of your daughter restricted the ability to do so. At any possible moment, Chan would demand to do whatever he could to profess his love, and it was always done with his mouth; his tongue to be more specific. 

In this scenario, rather than speaking with tongue, it was sticking out of your husband’s lips, flattening as he dived in head first without hesitation, your hands automatically rummaging through the thick mound of curls that supported the top of his head. His tongue was heaven, spreading your pussy lips farther and farther apart and he used that ferocious organ to fiercely suck on your wanting nub. A monstrous moan escaped your lips at the contact, a gratifying humm coming from his throat at the way you tugged on his locks. Your eyes were barely open, unable to prevent yourself letting your eyelids dance back and forth from open to shut, mesmerized at the current view you had when hunching your neck to see. Chan could see the way you were desperate to view his fulfilling prophecy that was going down on his wife, making sure to lay his chest flat on your bed, ejecting his fingers from your cunt and hooking each forearm around each leg, compressing them into the mattress, giving you the perfect perspective of the combination that was his lips and tongue simultaneously pleasuring your aching core. If this was going to be the result after pining for each other for around 12 hours only, you would never think about it twice. 

“I love being married,” you whined, another humorous hum escaping your husband’s lips, “tongue feels so good.”

“Mmmh,” he mumbled, half of his face muffled in your pussy, “you taste so good.”

“What was that?”

He took away his tongue for a brief moment, looking you deep in the eye before repeating his statement.

“You taste so good.”

He didn’t want to take much time away from making you, his wife, feel good, let alone waste his breath on 3 words. His tongue snaked across your inner thigh, the organ licking a gentle strip up each leg before descending back onto your gushing pussy. The smile on your face at his works was impossible to wipe off, your moans through the pearly whites getting louder and louder at the same time with your core, the accumulation of your slick and Chan’s oral fluids contributing to the squelching sound that was bringing you closer and closer to peak arousal. His lust was simply one of trance and dedication. It genuinely could not be explained enough how much he loved seeing you like this, knowing that he was the one that was doing so. Your lips contorted, unable to keep the smile as your bite down on the skin below your bottom lip, harsh enough to leave a line of marks before you were sitting up, hands leaving his hair and dominating his face, palms spread across either side before pressing a kiss to his lips. Your nose crinkled, easily identifying the taste of you on his tongue before giving him one last look, eyes completely open as you crawled backwards on your elbows, left index fingers curling in a come hither motion. The invitation was simply too divine to resist. Your husband turned into a predator, jumping on top of you like he had just caught his prey. His moves were delicate, making sure to not crush you underneath him. His lips were itching to be on yours again, and the feelings were returned, tongue automatically parting his lips and dipping inside his wanting mouth as his hands left your figure for a brief moment, slipping the thin material down his legs and over his feet, fingertips, like magnets to his wife’s skin, straight back onto you. Your own hands were now back on your husband's body, fingernails digging into the large mound of muscles that was his upper back as his fully erect length pressed against your heat. A moan slipped out of your mouth and straight into his, causing him to pull away.

“Fuck you really missed me, didn’t you?”

His smirk was fucking priceless. So annoying, but it would just be a flat out lie if you said you were not attracted to it in the slightest. Cocky did not look good on most people, but it 100% suited your husband. Your nails buried themselves deeper into his flesh at his statement, a poor attempt at humbling him in the slightest as another moan fell from your lips as he began slightly rocking back and forth, the tip of his pre-cum soaked tip hitting your extremely sensitive nub. You went to open your mouth, a failing endeavor of speaking a sentence when the only thing coming out being sounds of pleasure.

“Don’t tease me Mr. Bang,” you mumbled in between each groan, bucking your hips to create a larger friction between your two bodies. Chan was getting impatient himself, but god, did he love to tease you. Your husband had no trouble making you orgasm over and over, he just had displeasure in making you cum so quickly. Your body was sensitive solely to him, even after all these years, it didn’t take much to get you there. Therefore, teasing you made the process so much more enjoyable. Watching you squirm was something that he really enjoyed. 

“Hmm Mrs. Bang,” he hummed, lifting his hips off of yours, one hand now wrapped around the base of him, “you’re so cute when you’re all hot and bothered.”

Your eyes formed into a squint, annoyed at how easily he was pinning you down, “stop playing games and fuck me. Preferably today before they get home.”

“Oh fuck,” Chan chuckled, prodding at your pussy hole with his length, “you’re right, let me get to business.”

It was funny when previously mentioned that Chan left to tease and see you squirm, because once his length was comforted by the strength of your tight walls, your husband was a mess. He couldn't help it. Your pussy, after being with you for so many years, molded exactly to the shape and maneuvers that Chan needed. He tried to maintain a slow pace, allowing for your cunt to stretch perfectly around him, wanting you to feel every inch of him; but it simply was too irresistible to resist. Chan wrapped his hands around your ankles, lifting your limbs in the air and stretching them as far as they could go before kneeling on his knees as he began to flat out pound your busy. His pace was not as fast no, by the velocity of the thrusts was truly toe curling. Your jaw dropped to the floor if it could, the bedhead surely denting the walls at the arms as each time his hope made contact with your contact, a large noise resembling a slap occurred. Your husband was usually not as rough, but it’s not that you’re complaining at all. It was rare that he would just throw you around like this, usually if he was frustrated or that you had been away. So really, you should have seen this coming. Maybe it was what provoked you to reply to his lustful text in such a similar manner; whatever you have been doing it was right seeing as he was making your pussy cry with arousal. 

Chan’s teeth sunk into your left calf, a string of large huffs and puffs escaping from his chest as he put all his mighty effort into each thrust, your husband breathing heavy at the combination of his force and pleasure he got from fucking you like that. His eyes ogled however, at how easily your tits bounced back and forth.

“Fuck,” you shouted, “s-so rough.”

“You like that?”

“Mhm,” you whimper, keeping your legs in the air as your pulled him by the neck, foreheads accidentally smashing foreheads together with a significant force, “you’re fucking me like you want to put another kid in me.”

“Maybe I do,” he grunted, pressing a kiss to your lips in between, “maybe I should put another kid in you.”

God the way he talks, especially like that, turns you on so much. Your hands now travel back to the familiar spot of his back, pulling his chest against yours as he picked up his pace, thrusts much smoother with rhythm as your eyes fluttered shut, head hitting the back of the pillow ad your husband relentlessly fucked your pussy. A deep breath blew from your lips, an insufficient try to maintain your composure as your husband refused to set a forgiving speed.

“Fuck your pussy,” he growled, unable to finish his sentence.

“Yeah baby?”

“Mine,” he huffed, his own eyes fluttering shut as he pinned your upper limbs next to your head, head dipping down back to your breasts, a ferociously lick on your left nipple before he continued, “Fuck I’ll fuck another fucking child into that fucking pussy if you want me to.” 

Chan became a menace when he reached his peak horniness, and during this timeline, that was right now. Anyone who met or knew Chan, as a well-respected friend, colleague, or even a stranger, knew that was one of the most polite people that you could possibly have the pleasure of meeting. Not one to swear, always use his manners and respect other people’s time and values. However, it was only you who got to see the truly feral side of him, like this, cursing his head off. It was only at this point did he forget that facade of a well-mannered gentleman. Chan was certainly not polite or gentlemen like when he fucked you, and it was a guilty pleasure of yours. It always aroused you to hear him say ‘fuck’, mumble a ‘motherfucker’ or ‘shit’ under his breath, even just in normal dialgoue. So when he said it during sex, it truly was one of the hottest fucking things your had ever seen. 

“Do it,” you mumbled, unable to use your full voice, “put a kid in me.”

“Really?”

His head snapped up immediately, lips moving back to your own, pecking you one more time, but with his eyebrows raised in surprise, “Are you being serious?”

“Yes,” you smiled, fingertips spreading across your husband’s cheeks, “you have my permission.”

“Oh fuck,” he grumbled, “you really shouldn’t have said that.”

Chan’s hands snuggled under your back, scooping you and placing you up right on him, cock still inside of you as he sat up himself, keeping you close to his torso as he scooched the end of the bed. He let out a groan as he stood up, hands trailing to your hips as began to bounce you. A new level of sound escaped your lips at the new angle he was hitting inside of your pussy. It was smart to keep your arms enclosed around his neck, head buried into his chest as he still managed to keep the same pace. You really didn’t know how much more of this you could handle; the pressure in your body was building. The pit of your stomach was making its way to your final high, and your muscles were tightening in conjunction. The room’s scent was full of sweat, but also passion. Sweet sweet passion and sweet sweet love filled the four nostrils in the room, bringing you even closer to the edge. 

“Chan?”

“Y/n, you okay baby?”

“I’m gonna cum baby,” you whined, “I'm gonna cum so hard.”

“Oh me fucking too baby,” he fritted through his jaw breaking teeth clench, “I’m about to blow so fucking hard.”

“Yeah?”

“All in this pussy,” he whined, placing you back down on the bed, “my pussy.”

“Mhm, all yours.”

Your husband kept your back arching off the edge of the bed, making sure that when let go of himself, that nothing but even a drop would drip out of your hole. His hips became erratic; you could tell that your husband would not last much longer. Not that you were far off either, but you know that the release of his seed would tip you over the edge. 

“Fuck,” he cursed, hard, “Y/n I’m so sorry I’m gonna cum first.”

“It’s ok,” you whined, “I need your seed inside of me so fucking badly.”

“Yeah?”

“Oh yeah,” you clenched, eyes dark with lust as he kept his gaze on you, “put a fucking kid in me.”

“I fucking love my fucking wife so much,” he spat, jaw falling agape as his load exploded, the ropes of your husband’s orgasm roping over and over inside of you, “I fucking love you so much.”

“Fuck Chan,” you screamed, your own orgasm washing over and sending you into a haze, “it feels so good inside of me.”

Your whine was so attractive to Chan that he leant down to kiss you one more time, before withdrawing his aching cock, falling to your side in a heavy breath. He was quick to get back into action, however, falling off the bed and grabbing your ankles again, lifting them off the floor and onto the bed, ensuring that not a lick of his load would fall out. A fat giggle escaped from your lips when you watched him do so.

“Fuck you were serious about that kid hey?”

He was already gone, annoyingly leaving you by himself. He was quick to come back however, returning with a glass of water and a banana from the kitchen bench, handing over to you without a second thought. Your lips turned into a smile automatically, practically chugging the water down to quench your thirst before peeling the banana open. Your husband took his spot next to you, lying on his side as he watched you with admiration. All of a sudden you felt self-conscious, hesitating before putting your lips anywhere near the fruit.

“I’m starting to think you got this fruit for a particular reason.”

“No,” he chuckled, “just eat it.”

You looked away from him as your lips ‘accidentally’ slipped down the banana, much past where necessary to take a bite. You could see your husband's jaw clenching out of the corner of your eye as your motion.

“What,” you mumbled, mouth full of food, “you were asking for it.”

“Fuck your lucky that your daughter is going to be home soon.”

[slxtslovebambi]

𝙒𝙚𝙩 𝘿𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙢𝙯 💦 💭

Eren Yeager x Fem!reader | MDNI

Mentions of: Armin, Jean and Connie.

Synopsis: based of : Wet Dreamz by J. Cole.

[ Eren basically is a loner without any game. He finds himself crushing over the popular girl that sits next to him in his math class and keeps passing him cute letters and notes, praying that she’ll be the one that’s going to take his virginity!]

Warnings: Fem!reader, mentions of sex, Eren being head over heels for you, mentions of virginity loss, cuss words etc.

Wc: 2k+

Eren has always been a laid back kid.

He likes video games, smoking and staying out of drama.

Of course he like girls and stuff like that too, it’s just that he never really went out of his way to try and talk to them. The girls at his college are mostly not interested in him anyways since he’s kinda a loner and he’s not interested in changing anything about that…

At least that’s what he thought until he first met you. He could never forget the day you walked into his math class and sat down next to him, with a warm smile on your face and a cherry lollipop between your plump lips. He immediately noticed your pretty face and the way you smell.

He found himself so fascinated with the way your hair looked that whenever he was watching porn late at night by himself in his college dorm, he specifically looked for girls with a similar hair type. He loved talking to you just to hear your soft voice and cute giggles, but after your professor expressed multiple times that he doesn’t want you guys to distract the other students, you had to switch to exchanging small letters and notes.

At this point Eren has a whole little box full of notes that you wrote him since the beginning of the year.

Everything started off so innocent until you started flirting with him, trying to make him blush and get a reaction out of him, like the virgin whore that he was. Attending classes felt like a reward now, since he gets to spend time with you on a daily basis.

You often catch him starring at you, but you never thought much about it.

If only you knew that secretly he was wondering if you’d be able to make him nut the same way it feels like when he does it himself to your photos.

You’re not the it girl at campus but you are popular for sure. You’ve always been pretty confident, not taking shit from people and making sure that everybody knew not to play around with you. He’s truly fascinated by you and he finds himself quickly developing feelings for you.

Even his friends noticed his behavior change. Since he met you he’s daydreaming a lot more, mostly about the way that your thighs would make a perfect pillow or the cute pout you have on your lips when you don’t understand something and you have to ask him for help.

"Bruh what the fuck? Yoo Eren? Earth to Eren?"

Connie waves his hand in front of Eren's face to catch his attention.

"Huh?" Eren responds, snapping out of his hypnotic state.

"We’re asking if you’re coming to the party on Saturday?" Connie asks curiously.

"Nah I’m busy this weekend, sorry guys." He mutters quietly in response.

"What do you mean you’re busy? You never miss a party!" Jean looks at him shocked.

"Y/n is coming over this weekend, that’s why he’s acting that way." Armin reveals his best friends secret with a smirk on his face.

"He even told me I’m not allowed to come home till Sunday." He continues.

"Wait, wait, WAIT! Y/n L/n? Bro you better forget about her." Connie looks at Eren like he’s insane.

"What? Why?" Eren looks up to his friend, suddenly all ears again.

"She’s like wayyy out of your league, there’s no way she’d let you try anything with her!" Jean shakes his head, trying to prepare his friend for a heart break.

"Who said I wanna 'try anything’?" Eren starts getting annoyed. He knows all of those things but that’s not gonna stop him from dreaming night and day about your pretty lips warped around his dick, crying and gagging for him with that seducing look on your face that you always give him.

"Ohh right, I forgot our boy is still a virgin. Don’t worry, you’re not less of a man!"

Jean ruffles through Eren's hair.

"I never said I was?!" Eren looks offended over at his friend.

"Yeah but you thought it." Connie laughs.

"I hate you guys." He just rolls his eyes… but what if they are right?

Did he ever have a real chance with you?

And do you even like him?

—

Friday was like any other day…

at least that’s what Eren expected when he sat down next to you like usually.

You immediately noticed that something was off. He seemed so cold and distant and even after you asked him "did I do something wrong?", with a cute pout on your face, he only responded with a "nah don’t worry." before turning his head away from you again. The truth is that Eren was just scared. Hurt and scared to be specific.

What if Jean and Connie were right, and he’s just your way of passing time during your boring lectures.

He always felt a little delusional for thinking there could be something going on between you guys, but the conversation he had with his friends yesterday just made things worse.

Eren basically ignored you for almost the entire lecture, thinking about thousands of reasons why you could think that he’s not good enough for you.

He always had his fair share of insecurities, but he still hoped you’d like him regardless.

However all of his worries got dismissed after he opened the letter you passed him when nobody was looking.

'𝑯𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒉𝒂𝒅 𝒔𝒆𝒙 𝒃𝒆𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒆?'

It said, written perfectly in your handwriting.

You smile at him innocently before tapping the end of your pencil against your bottom lip.

There’s no way you would write something like that if you weren’t interested in him… right?…

You’re so cruel for playing around with him like that. At this point it doesn’t even matter anymore if all of this is a joke or game to you, Eren is willing to risk it all.

If he ever had the glimpse of a chance with you, then now is the time to make use of it and shoot his shot. He’s definitely going to keep the note and brag about it to his friends though, simply to prove them that he’s not some virgin loser and that he knows how to talk to girls, even if he doesn’t do it a lot.

He smiles softly to himself before ripping out a piece of paper from his notebook and scribbling something on it.

He hands it to you while giving you a cocky attitude. '𝘖𝘧 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦 𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘴𝘦𝘹 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦' You read on it. '𝑶𝒉 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚?' you write back with a sly smirk on your lips.

'𝘐 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯… 𝘐 𝘥𝘰𝘯’𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘣𝘳𝘢𝘨 𝘰𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘐 𝘨𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘮𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘱𝘳𝘰'

If having wet dreams about you would count, he’d definitely be considered a pro… so it’s not that much of a lie is it?

'𝒐𝒉 𝒔𝒐 𝒚𝒐𝒖’𝒓𝒆 𝒂 𝒑𝒓𝒐? 𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝒃𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒎𝒆 𝒕𝒐𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒓𝒐𝒘' You giggle in amusement before you give him the small note.

~That girl is going to be the death of me ~

Eren thinks to himself as he noticed the bugle in his pants. Luckily none of his friends were here, seeing him embarrassed at the fact that he is fully bricked up, because of you just writing on a stupid piece of paper.

'𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘯' he writes back, trying to keep his cool to impress you.

Deep down he knew he’s scared to death right now, even if he doesn’t want to admit it…

—

"You’re still here? Get the fuck out Armin, Y/n's gonna be here in like one hour and I still need to…get ready!" Eren bursts into Armin’s room after hearing him talk on the phone.

He never wanted to impress a girl so bad in his life.

"Shut up Eren I’m talking to my mom!"

Armin puts his phone on silent as he tries to make Eren leave by pushing him away with one hand.

"Fuck no, don’t ruin this for me! You need to leave."

Armin unmutes his phone before he sighs and starts speaking again.

"Wait mom, I- I’m gonna call you back. Yes I promise I won’t drink much. Okay, yeah love you too, bye." He hangs up. "what the hell is wrong with you man?!" he glares at Eren. "Did you already pack your things?" Eren continues bugging him.

"Yes I did, now stop rushing me or I’ll tell Jean and Connie that you practiced how to put on condoms last night!" Armin threatens him, remembering the painfully awkward encounter he had with his best friend.

"Okay okay but you have to leave now, please Armin." Eren nearly begs. This is one of the most important days in his life, there’s no way he going to let anybody fuck this up.

"Fine, I was about to leave anyways." Armin sighs while rolling his eyes as he takes his backpack from his bed and puts it on before grabbing his keys from his nightstand. "Thank you man I love you!" Eren says relived, following Armin to the door.

"Yeah whatever." Armin says before walking out of the door and closing it behind him.

—

The entire hour that Eren had left, he spent by lighting up scented candles around the house and praying that he won’t mess up, not tonight.

It can’t be that hard right? He watched enough porn to know the basics, he just hopes that you won’t notice it’s his first time.

The moment the doorbell rang he almost had a stroke…. However it was nothing compared to the way his heart was beating fast when you sat down beside him on his bed after he lead you in his room.

Fake it till you make it right? That’s what Eren thought when he started kissing you, pretending that his last kiss wasn’t in middle school. Getting hard on time was much easier than he thought it would be.

He felt his heart skip a beat when your warm hand slides under his shirt as you start trailing your fingers over his abs. Your skin is so unbelievably soft, it feels like heaven. You make him take off his shirt and play with the buckle of his belt before he pulls your face closer by your chin, only leaving inches between you.

"You’re so fucking pretty." He mutters under his breath while inspecting your face.

He always wanted to have you to himself, and seeing you like this, so desperately craving his touch just drives him crazy.

Usually he feels like you hold this power over him, but you whispering quietly in his ear "I want you so bad." was a major ego boost to him.

He can’t believe that his friends almost had him convinced that he wasn’t good enough for you… ridiculous.

He takes off your dress and removes your underwear, as he watches your nipples get hard at the cool air, with a smirk on his face, before he takes out a condom from his pocket.

It’s now or never.

He gets rid of his pants and puts on the elastic rubber just like he practiced the night before.

Now that he’s so close to losing his virginity, realization hits him, killing the adrenaline that just rushed through his veins.

He feels the palms of his hands getting sweaty and his breath quicken as he tries to keep himself from panicking to much.

He takes a deep breath and moves his hardened member to your entrance before you flinch and stop him right when he’s about to put it in.

"What’s wrong?" He asked confused.

Did you notice that he’s completely inexperienced? This is so embarrassing, he should have just told you the truth when he had the chance to.

"I need to tell you something…" you shyly look up to him. "Did… Did I do something wrong?" Eren says, worried that he’s making you feel uncomfortable.

"No it’s just,… please be gentle okay?" You try to avoid eye contact before continuing.

"Don’t laugh at me but… I-I never did this before."

Eren chuckles lightly to himself.

"I’ll try to keep it down for ya."

This is going to be so much more fun than he thought it would be.

Hope you enjoyed it, I refuse to believe that there’s people out there that don’t know the song, but if you don’t I can only recommend listening to it! 🧎🏾‍♀️

most recent work <3

[alottiegoingon]

who's afraid of virginia woolf?

jackie taylor x fem!reader

summary: the one where you and jackie secretly love each other while struggling with your sexuality.

warnings: jackie and reader are best friends, everyone is 21+, alcohol, heavy mentions of r and j dealing with their sexuality, homophobia mentions?, lesbians in denial, angst but fluff and happy ending, not proofread, slightly based on good luck, babe by chappell roan!!

making plans of going to college together became a regular thing when you and jackie entered high school. it was only natural that the two of you shared the typical teenager dream of living with your best friend and being roomates in uni, ditching classes and getting drunk instead of studying for exams.

"hey, don't worry." jackie tried to comfort you when you got a terrible score at your finals in senior year. she was fidgeting with the heart necklace she wore on her neck, gently spinning it around between her fingers.

regardless her impressive and actually sad capacity to pretend to be just a silly popular girl with pretty face and shiny hair, jackie was actually smart. you knew that all that effort to act all clueless and giggly around weird teenage boys in high school was fake. you never saw jackie studying during the weekends but, somehow, she would always get the perfect grade but would be the first one to hide it from boys. everyone knew that being too smart was bad. boys would easily get intimidated and that wasn't good for jackie taylor.

"we are gonna get through this together. i promise. i'll help you." jackie gives you that same old sweet looking smile that always get you freaking out inside while putting on your best show to act casual.

one more thing about jackie taylor; she had your heart in the palm of her hands since you two met. you weren't certain about how your friendship actually started, but you were sure that it was almost instantly.

jackie was actually quite popular by the age of eleven. she had the charisma of those late night show hosts you used to watch on tv with your parents, the prettiest and softest hair ever and a sweet perfume that would ling around for days.

jackie was also a natural leader. if any kid needed to complain about a classmate stealing their favorite glitter pen or their favorite sticker, jackie would be in charge of comforting them and helping them with whatever they needed. it wasn't rare for the teachers to have a talk with her after class to compliment her for being such a role model. everyone loved jackie.

you loved jackie, maybe too much.

it didn’t take long for you to realize that. you had the worst time of your life every single day while having lunch in the cafeteria with jackie and other girls from your class. you felt like ripping your ears off when all they could talk about was boys. they weren't even being discreet about it, you thought at yourself as you watched them stare at a couple of losers that were treated like gods with their weird stiff hair full of gel and a mustache that consisted on a tiny clump of facial hair.

while every girl at your table was so mesmerized by them, dreaming about how their lives would be so perfect if they ever liked them back, you were captivated by someone else; jackie.

you could watch her for hours, even if she was too busy looking at boys. you would think that her hazel eyes were even prettier that day, but that was a daily thing. you loved to hear her voice and to see her big beautiful smile adorning her face when she was excited about something and, with her, you didn't mind hearing about boys.

eventually, you and jackie got to live the dream. sharing a small bedroom with your best friend would sound like heaven to any girl but to you, it could be scary as well.

not only you were going to see her face every second at the day but it would also be hard to hear her constant speech about how you had to be more friendly and outgoing and stop studying so much. in another words, she wanted you to date guys.

that was a common debate between you two in high school. her persistent need to find the perfect boyfriend for you even though you were always ready to deny it. maybe she was trying to get rid of you?

"come onnn! all you do is study. remember last year when i had to drag you to mari's birthday party and you spent the whole night hidden in the corner?" jackie made fun of you during your first night together while doing her usual skin care routine.

even with her hair pulled back by a headband and with her face covered in cream, she looked fucking stunning.

"i wasn't hiding! i was just watching everyone from a safe distance..."

"that's actually worse." she giggled. you watch her leave the bathroom with a face mask and wearing nothing but a soft robe that had you on your knees.

“i’m not telling you to go crazy. all i’m saying is that you need to relax, okay?”

you weren’t exactly proud of it but you had to admit that is was too hard to focus on anything else besides her. it was impossible to deny her anything anyway but now? you were in tight shoes.

you could already feel your face heating up while you stood there like a coward with eyes growing wide and fighting for your life to not drool over your straight best friend.

“so? what do you think?” she insists, giving you an impatient glance.

“yes.” you immediately said the first thing that popped into your head.

“what?” you watch jackie’s eyebrows knitting.

“i-i mean, yes! i agree. i should relax more.” you trip over your own words but, thankfully, jackie didn’t seem to notice. maybe you were just stressed with the entire change of routine.

“great! we can start tomorrow!” she clapped her hands excitedly as her smile grew from one ear to another, probably surprised and relieved that you didn’t disagree this time.

[📚]

the first weeks weren’t nearly as good as you thought they would be. you managed to make some friends and actually met nice people, but so did jackie.

every friday night was a new suffocating experience. after a long week, jackie would drag you to the closest bar that most of the students would go to and, for the first half of the night, her duty was to play the matchmaker.

ever since you had agreed with her that night, you would force yourself to look happy in front of jackie at every god damn time she introduced you to a guy.

“i think you have so much in common!” she would say to all of the men before giving you a wink and leaving you two alone in a noisy bar, disappearing into the drunk pool of people.

it was always awkward and uncomfortable, of course. some of the guys ended up being actually acceptable and some were even sweet. but no matter how hard you tried to focus on the conversation, you would eventually find yourself looking for jackie in the crowd just to get your heart shattered by the view of a drunk jackie taylor with her pretty dress, messy hair, and with one of her hands tightly wrapped around the heart shaped necklace, eagerly kissing a stranger.

seeing this at pretty much every friday night didn’t make your daily need to fight against your feelings the easiest. you were drowning so deeply into your own thoughts that, one day, you woke up decided to forget about it.

maybe all of that was just a phase. you didn’t have feelings for your best friend and you definitely didn’t feel like throwing up every time you saw a boy since you were a kid. and, obviously, you wouldn’t fail biology or calculus on purpose just to be tutored by jackie so you could spend even more time with her and listen to her voice.

and absolutely, without a doubt, you weren’t scared of the big bad wolf called truth banging on your door and calling you a wimpy liar.

fuck.

[📚]

everyone know that famous saying “you are what you eat”, but what about you are what you desire?

jackie stopped complaining about you being stuck on your dorm studying on a friday night or during the weekends cause you stopped doing it. now, she wasn’t the only one to frequently visit the closest bar.

most of the time, you were the one to invite her first and at that point, it became a tradition.

you and jackie had different classes during the day and would barely spend any time together until you two met again at night. you, too scared to even look at her, would find an excuse to sleep early or spend the night at some random guy’s dorm that you met the other night. spoiler alert; you didn’t even remember his name.

you noticed the visible disappointment in jackie’s eyes and how deeply hurt she seemed every time you left, too desperate to silence your own thoughts and numb your feelings with good old alcohol.

during the bar nights that you two shared, jackie wasn’t as energetic as before. sometimes, while feeling like you were kissing a fish as your lips awkwardly melded with some other guy’s, you would open your eyes right in the middle of it to find jackie on the other side of the bar, sitting by herself with a filled glass of something strong.

you felt sick to your stomach at the idea of being touched by anyone else except for her, especially a man. but it was worth it if it meant that you could forget her entire existence for the night and wake up at someone else’s bed in the morning (and probably be late for class).

the year was flying by and everything stayed the same, except that the two of you didn’t share a word for the past few months and you avoided each other at all costs.

“i was wondering that, maybe now that finals are over, we could-“

“sorry, i got plans with travis. i’ll see you later!” jackie said while rushing to the door of your shared dormitory. you were a liar but so was she. you knew that “later” was a synonym to “tomorrow if you’re lucky”.

and just like that, everyday was the day to hear a different name. kevin, josh, steve, randy, sam. you even thought about making a list with all those names. you tried to leave the dorm during that nights as well but you were too worried about her safety. it would be much better to just wait for her and pretend to be asleep when the door opens.

you couldn’t blame her, you were the one who started it.

[📚]

in a typical night at the bar, you feel a stranger’s arm wrapped around your waist. you were already dizzy thanks to the couple of shots you took and could barely feel your mouth attached to his. however, you were kind of thankful for that.

jackie wasn’t in a very different situation but she knew how to be pettier than you. she knew you and how you were acting for the past months. how you would look for her with the corner of your eyes just to make sure that she was okay or not too drunk.

you weren’t the most cautious person, jackie perceived your multiple stares and she would make the best of it. while having your attention, she was hiding behind her best mask and flirting with the first man she saw. it was the performance of her life, consisting of a fake smile followed by a loud and high pitched giggle and an exaggerated hair twirling.

you, watching from across the room, felt your blood boil as your hands curl into fists. how dare jackie to do this right in front of you? didn’t she know how badly you wanted her?

retaliating her behavior, you would mimic her actions just to get under her skin. until it worked too well.

you carefully watched jackie leave the bar in quick steps and your first idea was to ignore her. she started the entire jealous thing and she was being childish. but so were you.

you immediately ditched the person who you were talking to and placed the shot glass on the wooden table so you could follow her.

you immediately stopped walking as soon as you put your feet outside, finding her sitting on the sidewalk. you would usually approach her in seconds, ready to go for a hug, but neither of you were in proper speaking terms now.

cautiously, you get closer. she doesn’t look up to meet you but you know that she can feel you there. you sit by her side and hug your legs. the silence gets so loud that you would be able to hear crickets if it wasn’t for the muffled noise coming from the bar.

“what happened to us?” jackie’s breathy and insecure voice finally breaks through the silence after a while.

you finally feel brave enough to look at her. not just look, to see her. to acknowledge her presence. to not ignore her.

“i don’t know.” you whisper. but you did.

“are we even friends?”

“we used to be best friends.” she looks at you and, for the first time in what felt like forever, you could see all of the details in her face again. of course, she was prettier than you could remember.

“you remember when you gave me this?” jackie grabs the shiny heart pendant, rubbing it between her fingertips. there was a small hint of a smile trying to make its way to her lips.

“yeah. you were scared to try for the soccer team.”

“scared? i was terrified.” she adds and you let a whispery chuckle out. “i couldn’t sleep for days, thinking if i would be good enough to even make it to the bench.”

“you gave me this before the first trial and said that if i was feeling too scared, i could squeeze it and it would be just like holding your hand.”

“i guess it worked, right?” you try to lighten the mood, lips curling up into a subtle smirk. jackie ended up being part of the team and, over time, the team captain.

she nods in silence.

“i didn’t even like soccer.”

“what? but you were so good. why did you join the team?” your eyes narrow as you speak and your heart starts to beat faster when jackie takes longer to say something.

“you were part of the team. i wanted to be around you.”

you find yourself looking away from her to hide the sudden heat and the pinkish tone of your cheeks. jackie went through a stressful week that year, practicing and learning the basics without actually liking it just because of you.

the sound of your voices is replaced by a loud nothing once again. the air was growing thicker and even the slightest touch of your shoulders accidentally brushing against each other was a reason to make you unconsciously hold your breath.

“i think i’m a lesbian.” your feel yourself getting struck by a sharp surge of disbelief and in a blink of an eye, she has your attention again. you feel the palm of your hands getting sweaty, going against the cold weather.

“what? why?” you manage to say a few words and, if it wasn’t for the delicate moment, jackie would have laughed at your frantic gaze.

“because.” jackie sighs, not being able to stop playing with the heart hanging on her neck. “i felt absolutely nothing when i had to pretend to care about boys in middle school but i felt the entire world when you were looking at me.”

not only she knew that you were always staring at her in the cafeteria but she liked it. she liked having your attention.

“you were never good at hiding it, by the way.” she snorts but you were sure that she was just as nervous as you.

“i thought i was pretty good…” you whisper, grinning. she was absolutely right, though.

“really? i found a biology test of yours hidden under your bed once. you were even better than me but you said that you were failing it and needed help.” the red color on your face gets more intense as you share a loud laugh. your hands momentarily cover your face.

“i think i just wanted to be around you.” you shrug, defending yourself by echoing her words.

“you still do?” jackie asks and, slowly, the lighthearted smile fades away from your face.

your gaze was lingering on her eyes and wouldn’t dare to leave. not even when you gently leaned closer and your fingers fixed her hair by carefully hiding a small section behind her ear. the entire world felt like it had stopped and you could hear a feather hitting the ground. it was quite adorable how jackie was the one to held her breath now just before swallowing the lump on her throat.

“i think i’ll always want to be around you.” you whisper. there was nothing but love and adoration inside your eyes as you felt completely hypnotized by her. you allowed your gaze to drift down to meet her lips and the hand that was hanging around her ear just a second ago found its way to her face. the palm of your hand fit perfectly on her cheek and you took the opportunity to guide her closer to you.

the first thing you feel the second after closing your eyes is jackie’s soft lips touching yours and how tenderly they were dancing together. it was almost like you and jackie were made of glass and you didn’t want to break each other.

jackie’s hand imitated yours but she used her thumb to caress your cheek. you feel her pulling away from your lips and you feel faint when your eyes open and she is smiling like she had just won the lottery.

“fuck. you are so pretty.” you groan in a dramatic way. with watery eyes and rosy cheeks, jackie nestle her face into your neck and gives your skin a small kiss, causing you to shiver and hug her body tightly, closer to you.

maybe the big bad wolf on your door wasn’t so scary now.

[sugurus-fave-monkey]

J e a l o u s y

Starring; Toji Fushiguro, Cult Leader!Geto Suguru, Gojo Satoru, Choso Kamo & Reader

Cw: Smut, MDNI/18+,Swearing, AFAB reader. Slight plot, Mean: Toji, Gojo, Geto, Dirty Talking, Rough Sex, Oral (m & f receiving), DubCon, Breedinng kink, Exhibition, Degradation, Praise, Restraints, Collar & Leash, Murder, Blood, Overstimulation, P in V, Creampie, some AU(no curse for Toji)a whole lot of filth, not proofread, written on mobile.

WC: 5800 oops

NSFW UNDER THE CUT

Toji Fushiguro:

Toji Fushiguro:

Toji knew that living with a younger woman would be a pain in the ass sometimes, but today you really had him pissed. Toji had claimed you as his girl, though not in a dating sense, more so in a fuck buddy sense, because he didn’t know if he was capable of maintaining an actual relationship. Plus the two of you lived together, so it was all the benefits of dating without having to actually date. Win-win.

Toji had been downstairs at the gym of the apartment building, when you had texted him saying that you were going to have a friend over, and apologizing in advance for being loud. Toji had thought nothing of it at the time, typical college girl stuff, having a girl friend over and being obscenely loud.

He had decided to spend a bit longer in the gym, doing a few extra sets, just to give you and your girl a bit of privacy. He thought nothing of it when some kid with weird bangs, and the rest of his hair in a bun that he had never seen before walked into the gym. The kid had asked Toji if he could spot him for a couple of sets, saying that a friend of his was visiting someone, and he didn’t want to be a third wheel. The two of them had conversed, mostly about gains, protein, and other gym bro things, before the kid asked Toji if he wanted to join him in the pool. Toji had politely declined, before excusing himself, and putting his headphones back on.

When he entered your shared apartment the gears in his brain started turning when he noticed a pair of men’s shoes beside yours. He took his headphones off and heard music coming from your room, and other noises, moans and grunts. Toji wasn’t stupid, it just took him a bit to figure out things. That kid he met was obviously friends with whoever was in your room.

Toji wanted to go back downstairs, pull that kid out of the pool by his stupid bun, and beat the shit out of him for letting his friend come and fuck his girl. But Toji also did not want an assault charge, so he cracked a beer, and sat on the couch. He could see your room, and he had patience.

A short while later he heard the music stop, and your door open. You came out of your room followed by a kid with white hair, whose appearance pissed Toji off. the kid was tall, lanky, and wearing sunglasses. Who the hell wears sunglasses inside. He wore a crooked smile as he noticed Toji.

“Oh shit, I guess your roommate’s home!” The kid smirked at you.

Your hair was dishevelled, your make up a mess as you glanced at Toji.

“Yeah. Toji this is Satoru, Satoru this is my roommate, Toji.” You mumbled.

Toji watched you say goodbye to Satoru, hugging him at the door. You tried to dart away but Toji grabbed you by the neck.

“Where d’ya think you’re going?” Toji asked.

“To shower?” You bit your lip.

“Nah, I think you need to be reminded whose girl you are.” Toji said as he started guiding you into his bedroom.

Toji pushed you down roughly onto his bed.

“Close your eyes.” he ordered.

You did so, and shortly felt the cool leather of a collar being wrapped around your neck. Toji yanked both your hands behind your back, securing them to the cuffs attached to the collar. You opened your eyes, and Toji was smirking down at you.

“So, my girl thinks she can just fuck whoever she likes huh?” Toji takes his shirt off, and you lick your lips at the sight. His beautiful muscles, glimmering under the LED lights in his room. “Better hope he stretched you out real good.”

Toji pulls his sweats down and your eyes widen. His cock was monstrous. His tip, angry and red, with precum dribbling is thick. He usually needed to make you cum at least once and use lube just to get inside you. His length was just as mean, veiny and a curve that could send you into overdrive.

Toji pushes you onto your back, and spreads your legs, palming his cock a few times before lining himself up at your entrance, and pushing slightly. It feels like you’re ripping.

“Nngh Toji! It won’t fit!” You protest.

“Tch.” Toji pulls back a little bit before leaning his head over yours. “Open your mouth.”

You do so and he gathers saliva in his mouth, before spitting it into your awaiting mouth. You feel yourself become more aroused, and swallow his spit while looking him dead in the eyes.

“Good girl.” Toji says while grabbing the bottle of lube off his dresser, before smearing it over your entrance, and around his cock.

He lines himself up once again, pushing into you. You yelp and clench your fists behind your back, sweat coating your face.

“Mmm fuck mama, you’re takin’ it so good.” Toji’s tongue is between his teeth as he slowly pushes himself into you, your walls enveloping him. “That little boy couldn’t even make you cum huh?”

The pain and pleasure of Toji stretching you out mingle together. A moan escapes your lips. Toji slaps you in the face, and wraps his fingers around your throat.

“I asked you a question, slut.” Toji asks through gritted teeth. “He didn’t make you cum did he?”

“N-no daddy! He didn’t!”

Toji slams into you, bottoming out. “Then. Why. Would. You. Bother?” Thrusting into you with every word.

Tears spill out of your eyes, your mouth is open as Toji drills into you. His thumb finds your clit and starts circling it. You thrust your hips upwards, chasing your high. Your stomach flutters, and your cheeks grow hot.

“You wanna cum huh? Such a greedy girl. Fuckin’ cum all over this cock then girl.” Toji groans out.

“F-fuuuuuck! Daaaaadddyyyy!” You practically scream out, as your orgasm racks through your body. Your muscles tighten, your vision goes white, as pleasure consumes you. Your walls clench around Toji’s dick, as he fucks you through your orgasm.

When it subsides, and you’re twitching, and panting, Toji pulls out and flips you over. He pulls your hips up, so you’re arching your back, and grabs the leash of your collar with his free hand. He gives you no time to adjust, before he’s bullying his cock back into you.

He pulls on your leash, forcing your head up, and drool spills out of your mouth. You’re so fucked out already, your eyes rolling in the back of your head, stars clouding your vision.

Toji sends his hand flying towards your ass, leaving a mark, his pace quickens.

“F-fuuuuck daddy, slow down!” You groan. “M’gonna cum.”

Instead of slowing down, Toji somehow speeds up, spearing you on his cock. “Yeah? Gonna cum again pretty girl?”

Toji’s words send you into overdrive, and you squirt all over him. Your legs are shaking, your arms are burning from being restrained, but you wish you could stay like this forever. Being fucking into oblivion by Toji’s cock. But you can tell he’s getting close to his peak. His muscles are contracting, his thrusts are getting sloppier, he’s grunting and groaning.

“Fuck mama, M’gonna cum inside you. Fill you up. Put a baby in you. Make sure everyone knows you’re mine.” Toji moans as his seed shoots into you, painting your walls and kissing your womb.

Toji pulls out, watching his cum drip out of you, before finally letting you out of your restraints. Your senses slowly start to come back to you.

“So, I’m actually your girl huh?” You ask.

“Guess so. If it means you ain’t gonna be fucking that idiot again, then you’re my girl.” Toji replies before grabbing a towel, and heading to the bathroom. “Y’gonna join me?”

“Yeah just a minute.” You call back, before pulling your phone out. You open up your texts with Satoru, and type out a message.

-Your plan worked! You’re honestly the best! And tell Suguru he’s the best boyfriend ever for letting you pretend to fuck me.-

*******

Suguru Geto:

Geto regarded all of his followers in the same manner, monkeys. But they all served a purpose, so he allowed most of them to live. Piss him off though, and he would have you killed. All of them were interchangeable, he could kill all of them, only to have a new group flock in the next day.

You, however were different. Geto had found you, sheltering yourself from a rainstorm close to his dwelling. He had offered you a deal, shelter indefinitely, so long as you were either useful, or willing to follow his principles. You had agreed, and while you got settled, Geto manifested a Surveillance Curse, sending it into your room. You had managed to incapacitate it, meaning you had cursed energy, which meant you could be of slight use to him.

Geto would never admit it, but he was enthralled by you, the way you looked at him with admiration, the way you were always the first one in when he called everyone to come listen to a speech. The way his eyes would zero in on you.

So when you were absent from his preachings for a few days in a row, he found himself growing concerned. He sent one of the monkeys to find you, and see what was wrong. When that follower reported their findings, Geto executed them on the spot.

The monkey had followed you around the facility, until he watched you enter another followers chambers. He had watched through a slight opening in the curtain, as you shed your clothes and gave yourself to that other man.

Geto was furious. After all, you should be entirely devoted to him, allowing no other to have you in that manner. He was the one in charge, and to be disrespected by someone he allowed to grovel before him, who was beneath him, almost shattered his facade. Rather than succumbing to the anger, he pushed it aside, he would have to teach you what happens when your loyalty slips.

The next day Geto ensured you would be present, by having a different monkey go to your chambers and escort you. You took your usual seat, front row, but refused to even look at Geto. You were nervous and rightfully so. When the rest of his followers piled in he addressed the crowd.

“Hello everyone.” Geto began, a fake smile plastered on his face. “Today you shall witness a special performance.” Geto stood up and pointed at you. “Would you be so kind as to come up to the stage?”

Your stomach flipped, anxiety coursing throughout your body. You gulped. “Me?” You squeaked out.

“Yes, you.” Geto dialed up the warmth in his voice. “Come onto the stage.”

Every fiber of your being is screaming at you to not go up there. But what else could you do? You knew if you ran, Geto would catch you, and kill you right then and there. Your legs shake as you stand up, time seeming to stand still as you take a step.

Geto’s lips curl as he sees the fear on your face, the sheen of sweat coating your body as you unsteadily step towards him. His eyes zeroing in on yours, like a predator, ready to pounce on their prey.

When you’re finally on the stage, Geto cups your chin with one of his large hands, forcing you to look up at him. He smiles down at you, but his eyes have malicious intent behind them. The hairs on your arm stand on end. Geto uses his hand to guide your gaze to the crowd, when you notice the man you had been sleeping with in the middle of the crowd, being held in place by two bigger men. You gasp when Geto jerks your head back towards him, and presses his lips against your ear.

“I hope you’re not shy in front of a crowd. Gotta show everyone what happens when they can’t keep control of their dicks. I’m not going to hurt you though.” Geto whispers, before pulling away and addressing his followers.

“Do I not provide for you? Have I not cured you of your ailments, your sicknesses? And yet, it seems that one of you displays no loyalty. No gratitude for what I have done for him. He must think of me as below him, inferior to him. Why else would he take what’s not his? You all serve me, you all belong to me, and you’re all mine to use as I please.” Geto’s voice is low, all the cheer drained from it.

He tosses the mic down to the floor, his body towering over yours.

“Strip.” That singular word. Your body felt like a shock ran through it. There was no way Geto was serious. This had to be some sort of joke. You couldn’t move.

“Don’t make me repeat myself.” Geto warned.

Your hands shook as you began undressing yourself, the robes you wore falling into a pool at your feet. You unclasp your bra and shrug it off your shoulders, using an arm to cover your nipples. You inhale harshly as Geto pulls your arm away from your body, the cool air making your nipples erect. Your lip trembles as you pull your panties down, exposing yourself to the hungry eyes of Geto’s followers. Your thighs close on instinct, and you close your eyes, willing this to be a dream.

“Open your legs.” Geto commands, his focus solely on you. You do so, and Geto uses a finger to swipe at your entrance. “Look at you, you’re already dripping, pathetic.”

Geto pushes his finger into your mouth, never breaking eye contact with you. A shiver runs down your spine at the intrusion, but you also feel aroused. Being in front of all of these people, while Geto invaded your body, just did something to you. You decide to suck on his finger, and he smirks at you.

He pulls his finger out of your mouth and stands behind you, before slapping your ass. He snaps a finger, and two followers bring out a chair. Geto sits down, and pulls you onto his lap.

“You ready to put on a show?” Geto whispers in your ear, and you can’t help to bite your lip and nod.

Geto uses a hand to lift your hips up, while he pulls his dick out, and slowly lowers you onto it. A moan spills out of your lips as he fills you up. Fuck he’s so thick, you’re so full already and he’s not even halfway inside. His fingers snake around your throat, as he tips your head back, as he pushes the rest of his length into you.

“Mmm fuck Geto, y’so big.” You moan out. Your eyes trail over the crowd. Every single one of them has lust in their eyes, they look so hungry. The men wishing they were the ones fucking you, the women cursing you for getting what they always desired.

Geto bounces you on his dick, causing your head to reel. You had always fantasized about fucking him, touching yourself to the thoughts. You never imagined you’d actually get the opportunity, so you had settled with the first guy to pay you attention. You had needs after all, but fuck, you were sure you’d never want to fuck anyone else as long as you lived.

“Fuck you’re so tight, you’re taking me so good.” Geto grunts in your ear, before nibbling on it. Your hand shoots down to your clit, rubbing circles around it. Geto slams into you, pulling moans from your throat as you work at your bud. Your stomach begins to coil, you’re so fucking close. A sheen of sweat is coating your body, your eyes are half lidded, you’re already feeling fucked out.

“Uhnnn, G-Geto, m’gonna cum, fuck don’t stop.” You whimper, as stars cloud your vision. You clutch onto Geto’s robes as your orgasm ravages you. Your mouth is open in an O, and you fucking squirt, soaking Geto’s pants and spraying the crowd.

“Fucking good girl!” Geto squeezes your throat as he fucks you through your orgasm, feeling his own approaching. He finally got to fuck you, and put his followers in their place. Before he loses all sense a rationality he summons a cursed spirit, and targets the man who had the courage to sleep with you.

Blood splatters onto both of you. And that sends Geto into overdrive, his hips rutting into you, as his orgasm courses through him. You feel his dick pulsing as his cum shoots into you, thick ropes, coating your walls.

You haven’t even come down yet, before Geto pulls you off his dick, grabs your hair and pushes your face into the pile of your fluids.

“Clean up your mess, monkey.” And you do so, licking up both of your fluids. When you’re done, Geto snakes his arm around your waist. “You’ll be staying in my chambers now, and I’ll have you whenever I desire.”

“If anyone of you chooses to be disloyal, the same fate will await you. Dismissed.” Geto addresses the crowd one last time, before exiting the stage with you in tow.

*********

Satoru Gojo:

Satoru Gojo was very lonely, after all his girlfriend and his best friend had been assigned a mission together, and he was stuck at Jujutsu Tech by himself. There was absolutely no reason why he couldn’t have gone with the two of you, which he made sure to whine about.

“No fair, why do you two get to go out of country and I don’t.” He had groaned.

“It’s a surveying mission, Satoru. We need to be stealthy.” Suguru had explained.

“Okay, and? What’s your point?” Satoru had pouted.

“You’re not exactly the quietest, or sneakiest person. The minute we’d find our objective, you’d come barrelling in with-“ you had mimicked his hand signs. “Blue”

Both you and Suguru had started laughing your asses off right then, and Satoru couldn’t help but join in.

But now, he was bored, bored , b-o-r-e-d. And he figured that now was as good a time as any to use one of his handy techniques; teleportation. He had badgered Suguru, until he had informed him of where exactly they were going, with a “What if something happens to you two?” So he knew exactly where he was going.

He figured he would surprise the two of you, maybe go out shopping, and he could even help the two of you finish the mission faster.

It didn’t take long for him to arrive at the location, which was not what he was expecting. There were a ton of dilapidated old buildings, and there was a ton of residuals, both human and curse alike. Satoru frowned before setting out to follow your residuals, and he noticed the two of you, before you noticed him.

Satoru couldn’t explain what made him duck at the side of a building and watch the two of you, but now he was pissed.

Satoru saw the two of you fending off a Cursed Spirit, you were distracting it, while Suguru had begun to manipulate it. Satoru watched as his best friend collapsed the curse into itself, making it take the shape of a ball. He watched as you cheered him on. He watched as Suguru swallowed the curse in one go, and your eyes lit up, and you gushed at how great it is he can swallow curses. He watched as Suguru put his arm over your shoulders and the two of you walked away. He could hear you still ecstatic about how great Geto was at swallowing.

Satoru put a plan in motion at that very moment, and decided to wait a few hours to enact it. He didn’t know which he was more hurt by; the blatant lie involving the mission, you swooning over his best friend, or the way Suguru just draped his arm over you.

~~~~

You had just finished in the shower, and decided to get comfy for the night, the mission for today was finished, Suguru was resting in his hotel room, and you planned to order room service. You wrapped yourself in the satin robe the hotel had provided. You were about to flop down on the bed, when you heard a knock at the door.

Figuring it was probably Suguru, you got up and unlocked the door, without even looking through the peep hole. You swung it open to be met by… your boyfriend? What was he doing here?

“Satoru?! What- how?” You babbled, eyes widening.

Satoru said nothing as he pushed the door open and stepped in, before searching your hotel room for something. You cocked an eyebrow while watching him in silence.

“What’s going on?! Is everything okay? What are you looking for?” You ask.

Satoru stands before you, glaring at you, his eyes seemingly filled with anger. He takes you in, seeing the worried expression, the way you chew your lip.

“Kneel.” Satoru commands.

“I-what? Kneel?” You sputter out, your cheeks growing hot.

Satoru grabs a fistful of your hair, pulling you down until you kneel. “I said kneel.”

You were still totally confused as to why Satoru showed up, but the way he was acting right now had you nervous, but kind of turned on. The two of you usually had sex at least once daily, and you had been on this mission for two and a half weeks now.

You looked up at Satoru through your eyelashes and he smirked at you. He took your hand in his, pulling it towards his crotch, forcing you to feel his erection. He pulled the waistband of his sweats down, freeing his cock from the confines of his pants.

“Open your mouth.” Satoru orders, and when you do, he pushes his cock into your mouth, giving you no time to adjust as he starts thrusting. “Mmm fuck, that’s my good girl, swallowing my cock.”

Satoru’s dirty talk always had you practically creaming, you squeeze your thighs together and moan around his cock, as you suck, using your tongue to increase his pleasure.

His hold on your hair tightens, keeping you in place so he is fully in control. Fuck your mouth made him practically delirious, the way you devoured him as though he was your last meal. When you bring your hand up to stroke him, he bats it away. “Nuh-uh. Just your mouth, see if you can handle swallowing all of me.”

As he says that, he pushes himself deeper, past your uvula. You gag, and your mouth waters, as his cock slides down your throat. Your eyes are watering, but you know you can take him. You look up at him to find him glaring down at you, his lip curled.

Satoru pulls out, before snapping his hips forward, fucking into your throat. He lets a groan escape, furrowing his brows. He wraps his free hand around your throat, feeling how it bulges as he throat fucks you.

He slows it down, only to bully his cock impossibly further down your throat. You’re light headed, his dick cutting off oxygen, and his hand wrapped around your throat making it even worse.

He pulls out of your throat, allowing you a moment to catch your breath, before ramming his length right back down your throat. “Mmmmmph.” You groan against his cock as tears spill out of your eyes.

“Aw what’s wrong Princess?” Satoru coos. “Thought ya liked swallowing. Or is that only when Suguru does it, hmm?”

Your blood runs cold, and your eyes widen.

“F-fuck.” Satoru moans, while continuing to abuse your throat. “Y-yeah, I saw you two. Fuckin’ lucky that y’make me feel s’good.”

You couldn’t even explain the truth. How Suguru needed you to support him after your battle. That’s the only reason he had his arm around you. How after seeing the face of disgust he made, you tried to distract him by telling him how cool it was that he could swallow curses. You tried to pull away, hoping to explain, but Satoru held you in place. Tears flowed down your face.

“You cryin’? That’s rich. Think you’re real smooth huh? Like I wouldn’t have seen it with my six eyes. Just means, I gotta f-fuck, remind you who you belong to.” Satoru growls out.

Again, your thighs grind together, you’re so desperate for stimulation. You shove your fingers between your legs, rubbing at your clit before Satoru pulls your hand away, smirking.

“Nah, you don’t deserve to touch yourself. If ya wanna cum y’better make sure to swallow all my cum.” Satoru’s thrusts become sloppy, he feels his balls clench, and he bottoms out, pushing his cock as far as it will go, before sloppily humping against your face.

“Ahn ah, fuck.” Satoru hisses as he feels his balls release. “Fuck take it all, fuckin don’t waste a single drop.”

His release fills up your throat as he pulls out, somehow spilling more into your mouth. You swallow, and instantly start coughing and sputtering. Air fills your lungs, and you inhale and exhale deeply.

Satoru stuffs his dick back into his pants, before grabbing your phone and firing off a text.

“S-Satoru, what are you doing?” You whisper, your throat to raw to properly speak.

“Told Suguru to come over. Think I need to teach him a lesson too. And see if his swallowing is worth the hype.” Satoru says as he ruffles your hair. “Maybe if you’re a good girl, I’ll let you cum.”

You feel yourself dripping, your hole clenching around nothing, as you hear a knock at the door.

*********

Choso Kamo:

Choso had wanted to help you train but the fact is: he is not good at training people. He just lacks the finesse to take what he’s doing and slow it down for you.

You were a curse user, part of Geto’s group, you had participated in the Night Parade of 100 Demons, and had found Geto shortly afterwards. You hadn’t questioned how he was still alive, assuming the stitches were from healing himself up. You met Choso right after he gained a body, and seemingly formed a bond. After Choso had exposed Geto as a fake, you immediately turned on Geto, allying yourself with Choso.

Choso glances over to where Noritoshi is guiding you, and instantly starts to feel annoyed. Surely you could move your body on your own? Why were his hands all over you? What was so funny that you were giggling over?

Choso huffs out a sigh, before turning away from you and Noritoshi, figuring he may as well train also. He was sure of his abilities but it didn’t hurt to improve them, and he could also use that as an opportunity to get his frustrations out.

After a while of training, and continuing to ruminate, he decides enough is enough. He had talked to Yuji about how you made him feel, and Yuji had told him he probably has feelings for you. Yuji had then sat Choso down and made him sit through several romance movies. After that he had directed him to Hakari, for additional knowledge, because Yuji “hasn’t really done that stuff”.

Choso made his way to the door of your quarters quickly, and knocked softly on the door. You pulled the door open, and beamed up at him before pulling him into a hug and inviting him in.

Choso could smell your perfume on you, the aroma getting to his head. He was so captivated by every part of you. You were wearing a very small pair of shorts and a crop top, both of which hugged your curves. He was almost salivating.

“What’s up Choso?” You asked him with a smile.

Choso didn’t speak, instead he snaked his arm around your waist, pulling you towards him. His lips crashed against yours, and for a brief moment you were still, before opening your mouth, allowing Choso’s tongue free rein of your mouth. You moan into his mouth, as his tongue explores. When you suck on his tongue, he groans, and his hips thrust against you, grinding his erection against your thighs.

Choso breaks the kiss, a string of saliva still connecting your lips, and trails his lips down to your neck. He’s sloppy, biting down and sucking, licking, all while whining, fucking whining, because he wants all of you, all at once, forever. He pulls up your crop top, exposing your plush breasts, and pulls away to admire them.

His mouth actually salivates. “C-can I?”

“Sure.” You giggle, your cheeks growing warm. You allow Choso to guide you to your bed, and he sinks down beside you.

Choso feels light headed as he takes a nipple into his mouth. Fuck, your skin tasted so sweet. He feels you grab onto his hair as you let out a moan when he nips gently at the bud. He can’t help but to roll his eyes back into his head, as he squeezes your other breast with his hand. He releases your nipple from his mouth and bites down on your shoulder, and when your blood enters his mouth, he loses all sense of rationality.

He pushes you down on the bed, pulling off your shorts, trailing bites all the way down from your shoulder to your waist, before sitting on his knees on the floor. He grabs your thighs, pulling your heat towards his mouth, and spreading your legs.

He slowly licks at your entrance, causing you to arch your back, and his mouth waters at the taste. He uses a hand to spread your folds open, before plunging his tongue inside of you. You both moan at the same time, Choso grinding his hips against the bed frame. He’s sloppy as he fucks you with his tongue, his saliva mixing with your slick. His free hand comes up to play with your nipple.

Your hands are wrapped in his hair, as you allow pleasure to wrack through you. “Nngh, fuck Choso, feels so good.”

The praise goes right to his head, and his dick, somehow making him even harder. He pulls his tongue out of your cunt, and brings it to your clit, licking it slowly, almost teasingly. Your moans fill the room. Choso pulls his dick out, and starts stroking it slowly.

“P-please, faster Cho.” You groan.

Choso obliges, sucking your clit into his mouth, rolling his tongue over it, swirling it around, until he presses his tongue flat against it and starts moving his head up and down, left and right.

You’re so close, your hips matching Choso’s movements as you grind on his face. You couldn’t remember the last time you felt an orgasm like this coming on.

“Oh fuck- fuckfuckfuck, Choso, fuck!” Your mind goes blank as you cum on Choso’s tongue. Your body twitches, your hole clenches around nothing, and you pull Choso by the hair. Your thighs try to close, but Choso is using his hands to keep them open. A few tears fall from your eyes due to the intensity of your orgasm.

Choso keeps eating you out, he doesn’t even need to touch himself at this point. He practically slurps down your orgasm. He takes a hand off your thighs, and bring it towards you entrance. He pushes one finger in, relishing how your warmth sucks him in. He whines again, he can’t wait to feel your walls against his aching cock. He adds a second finger, curling them inside you, hitting your g-spot. His other hand is pressed on your belly, and he can feel his fingers inside you. He loves the way your muscles clench around his fingers, as he probes you.

He pulls his face away from you, replacing his tongue with his thumb, moving it up and down, and in circles over your clit. He watches your face contort, your eyes squeeze shut, your hands now grasping onto the blanket.

“Fuck, you’re so perfect.” Choso remarks. “I need you to cum again for me.”

Choso’s hand fucks into you skillfully, pulling his fingers out a little bit, before pushing them back in and repeatedly curling them. His pace on your clit is perfect, and goosebumps prick your skin as you approach another orgasm.

“D-don’t stop.” You cry out as pure pleasure shoots through you. Your toes curl, your hips thrust upwards, your whole body spasms, your eyes roll back into your head. You feel Choso’s lips meet yours and open your mouth. You taste yourself on him as his tongue fucks in and out of your mouth.

When he pulls away, you open your eyes, and watch as he palms his cock. Your mouth waters, his dick is absolutely perfect, pale, veiny, and his tip is absolutely oozing pre cum.

Choso lines himself up, and as he pushes into you it takes everything in his being to not cum right then and there. He pulls out, and pushes back in, fucking you slowly, savouring the feeling, he bites on his lower lip, while watching himself slowly fuck you. He brings his thumb to your clit, swirling it over your bud.

“Nngh! Cho I-I can’t cum again. S’too many.” You’re so sensitive right now, overstimulation hitting you hard.

“Fuck yes, y-you can babe. N-need you to cum all over me. Please.” Choso begs, and fuck maybe you could cum again.

You allow your body to relax, your brain to shut down, but something feels weird, like a sort of pressure.

“F-feels weird Cho I-“

Choso bottoms out and fucks into you roughly, increasing the strength of his thrusts. It feels like something inside you snaps, and you squirt all over Choso. You’d never done that before, and feel slightly embarrassed but Choso is loving it.

“Oh fuck, yeah cum all over me.” Choso feels himself ready to burst. His dick contracts, and oh my god, the feeling of cumming inside you was too much. “M’cumming inside you. Oh fuck I need you, fuck I love you, fuck please please don’t ever leave me.”

You milk him for every single drop that he’s got, and when he stops thrusting you wrap your arms around him, pulling his chest over your body, and kissing him sweetly. You’re both panting as you come down. When you’re finally coherent enough to speak, you cup his face in your hands.

“I won’t ever leave you,” you whisper. “I love you too.”

[tightjeansjavi]

♡ Barbie Girl ♡ | AU!Joel Miller x f! Reader

A/N: this was such a fun lil idea to pursue and I love the idea of Joel wearing pink just cause he knows how happy it makes Sarah ♡

~word count: 1.5k~

Summary: Joel, Sarah and Tommy go to the Barbie movie opening weekend

Warnings: none, lots of fluff, Joel is a feminist icon, soft dad vibes, Joel is a girl dad himbo, he’ll do anything to make his kid happy, Sarah is an icon on her own, Tommy is Tommy of course but he’s so himbo too, AU that takes place in 2023, Joel is a progressive dad, Sarah loves him for it, little bit of flirting with Joel and the reader, no age gap, some spoilers for the Barbie movie! (+18 for language) minors dni.

July 2023, Austin Texas

Joel Miller never would consider himself to be a ‘girl dad’ as the younger generation would refer to him as. He had to literally look up what the word ‘DILF’ meant when Sarah told him one day after school that all of the moms thought he was attractive. He had Google on speed dial just so he could feel like he was ‘hip’ again. 36 years old and he felt older than ever. Sarah was a big help of course and steered her dad in the right direction political wise. Her dad was a good man of course, but nothing made her happier than when she had his full support as a young woman. Before the Barbie movie came out, Joel and Sarah spent every weekend volunteering at a local women’s shelter. The bumper of his truck was decorated with women-empowering stickers including a sticker that said, ‘Abortion is Healthcare’ and ‘Women’s Rights Are Human Rights.’ He didn’t stop there of course. He also had a BLM sticker, ‘Dismantle White Supremacy’, ‘Eat The Rich’ and he still had a Bernie sticker front and center.

The weekend that the Barbie movie came out, Joel had already pre ordered tickets for him, Sarah and Tommy as well who had multiple pink shirts for Joel to choose from. Sarah had insisted that they all had to wear pink and Joel would do just about anything to make his baby girl happy.

“Are ya sure your old man doesn’t look silly in this?” Joel gestured to his hot pink tee-shirt with a soft huff as he observed his appearance in the mirror.

“Dad, why do you think you look silly? Pink is totally your color!” Sarah responded with a genuine smile as she playfully placed the Barbie baseball cap on his mess of brown curls. “Do you or do you not feel Bonita?”

Joel stifled a chuckle, shaking his head as he fixed the cap on his head. “I feel Bonita.”

The drive to the movie theater consisted of listening to a Barbie inspired Spotify playlist off of Sarah’s phone. Joel and Tommy proudly knew every word to the Barbie Girl song of course. Once they arrived to the theater, Joel was awe-struck at the amount of people who were dressed in pink and he felt less self-conscious about his hot pink shirt when he saw numerous guys and dads wearing pink shirts as well.

At first he was confused when a group of women around his age said, “Hi Ken” to him and Tommy, and “Hi Barbie” to Sarah who immediately responded with a wave and, “Hi Barbie!” She gently nudged her dad with her elbow as he stood there blinking, mouth opening and closing like a fish. “Dad, you gotta say hi Barbie! Back.”

“Oh. OH! Shit, sorry sweet pea.” He cleared his throat under his breath before he raised his hand with a sheepish smile. “Hi Barbie!” He was looking right at you out of all of your friends. You were dressed head to toe in pink and you mirrored the same sheepish smile that he did. Joel turned to his daughter afterwards, cheeks feeling inflamed. “Did I do alright? So, I say that everytime someone says hi Ken?”

“You did great, dad! Yeah, so everytime a Barbie says, ‘hi Ken!’ You say, ‘hi Barbie!’, and when a Ken says, ‘hi Ken!’ You say, ‘hi Ken!’”

“Yeah, brother. It ain’t that hard.” Tommy chimed in and wrapped his arm around Joel’s shoulders and gave them a light squeeze.

“Shuddup Tommy.” Joel grumbled under his breath.

Your friends from your college days insisted that you join them to go see the new Barbie movie. At first you were against the idea until you read reviews and once you saw it was a movie that empowered women, you were all in. It was your idea in the end to dress head to toe in pink and you and your friends each had a comfort Barbie in your purses as well.

When you saw Joel Miller across the way looking confused as all hell when your friends said ‘hi Ken!’ You thought he was adorable for two reasons. One being he clearly was wearing pink to support his daughter and two, he looked proud of himself after saying ‘hi Barbie!’ To you and your friends.

“Now, that’s a real man if I’ve ever seen one!” Your one friend, Jessica excitedly whispered to the group as if she was back in her highschool days in the passing period hallways.

“Okay, but his brother? Jesus Christ, if I wasn’t married I would be all over that!” Avery chimed in with a giggle.

“How do you know that they’re brothers? They could be two dads taking their daughter to the movies.” You responded with a shrug as you pulled up the tickets on your phone.

“Nah, they look related and besides, the one with the baseball cap was looking right at you babe!” Jaimie commented with a small grin as she nudged your side gently.

“No, he wasn’t.” You responded with a light laugh and shake of your head.

“Girl, he looked like a blubbering fish when he saw you.” Your friends all affirmed.

Your friends were right on the money with that one. Joel Miller was doing his absolute best to check you out in the most respectful way he could while he was in the line for popcorn. Sarah of course caught the way her dad was looking at you, and she was determined to get him to muster up the courage to talk to you after the movie.

The movie was everything Sarah had imagined it to be. She laughed, she cried and Joel and Tommy had teared up during some of the scenes. Especially when Barbie and Ken travel to the real world and the first thing she experiences is being cat-called and objectified by men. The patriarchy was alive and well outside of Barbie land and as a straight, white man, Joel recognized that he and Tommy had an easy life compared to their female counterparts. This didn’t mean that they agreed with it. In fact, Joel and Tommy were fully against the patriarchal system.

Sarah found herself hugging her dad tightly as the credits rolled and he was gently smoothing down her curls and kissing the top of her head. Sometimes Joel felt guilty over the fact that Sarah no longer had a mother figure in her life, but it was moments like these that reminded him that he was just a dad doing his best for his kid who he loved so dearly. “I love you so much, baby girl. I’ll always fight for you. Okay, kiddo?” He whispered softly with his lips against her temple.

Sarah hugged him tighter. “I love you so much dad. Thank you for always being there for me.”

Tommy was tearing up again.

The three Millers took a selfie with the Barbie poster just outside the movie theater with their faces squished into the frame. The picture was being taken while you were standing outside of the women’s bathroom waiting for your friends. You watched as Joel struggled to get his phone at the right angle, so you took it upon yourself to go over and help. “Hi Kens, hi Barbie! Would you guys like me to take a picture of you?”

Joel already felt his cheeks begin to heat up. “Hi Barbie. That would be great if ya could. Can never get these damn angles right with this thing. I uh—I like your outfit. It’s very Barbie.” He commented softly.

“Thanks, Ken. I really like your baseball cap.” You responded with a genuine smile as he handed you his phone. You took a few steps back so that all three Miller’s would be in the frame. You took a few photos before handing him his phone back just as your friends were departing from the bathroom.

“Hey, Barbie? Before you go, my dad is way too shy to say it but he thinks you’re super duper pretty.” Sarah proclaimed without skipping a beat.

Joel was beet red now as he scrubbed a hand down his face, fingertips scraping across his beard. “Sarah! You can’t just—” He sighed with a nervous smile. “Okay, it’s true Barbie. I do think you’re super duper pretty. Cats out of the bag thanks to my daughter.” He gave Sarah a playful warning look and mussed up her curls.

“Well Ken, it’s your lucky day because I think you’re really handsome. Do you wanna see Oppenheimer with me next weekend?”

“I would absolutely love to go see Oppenheimer with you next weekend Barbie.” Joel didn’t hesitate to respond.

“It’s a date. See you next weekend, Ken.” You exchanged phone numbers before you made your way over to your friends who were waiting for you.

“This Barbie has a date next weekend!” You told your friends the good news and they all excitedly cheered for you.

As soon as Joel and Sarah got home, Sarah dug out her old box of Barbie’s and brought them down to the living room, while Joel had found all of the Barbie DVD’s that Sarah insisted he keep. They spent the rest of the evening playing with her Barbie’s and watching the Princess and the Pauper; Sarah’s all time favorite Barbie movie.

Tag list: @chaotic-mystery @saradika @cavillscurls @thetriumphantpanda @sinsofsummers @morning-star-joy @cupofjoel @dinsdjrn @korynnekorynne @kirsteng42 @last-girl @tessa-quayle (you will love this one)

Creator divider made by @saradika

Barbie divider made by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

[starrybl1ss]

boyfriend

"i could be a better boyfriend than him"

boyfriend - dove cameron

💌:: hi hi hiii! im rn suuuuper busy but i just had this idea i need to write it asapp!!! Its another drabble thoughhhh:( i js cant be stuck w writing one long fic!! Was gonna put fluff in here but i scrapped the idea<3

dom!college!ellie williams x f!reader

warnings bbg: mdni!!! fingering, smut generally, toxic releationship, pet names???

summary: reader having an asshole of a boyfriend and ellie being reader's bestfriend thinks she could be a better boyfriend.

---☆

You came rushing to ellie's apartment elevator with tears mixed with mascara drailing down your face. Geez, you had a rough day. You quickly pressed number 5, that's the floor ellie is on.

Luckly no one was in the elevator with you so nobody had to see you being a mess. You grabbed your phone while still being in the elevator and quickly texted ellie.

You

Els, im a minute away from your room.

You got out of the elevator and found ellie's apartment door. Your just hoping she's isn't outside, i mean she has no classes at this time as she told you this morning.

You knocked on the door nervously, scared if she wasn't home. Then the door opened-- phew! She is home.

Ellie stops and looks at you top to bottom. "Hey what's wrong?" She asked in a soft voice. "I-" ellie stops you. "Wait, come inside first" she insisted.

You came in her apartment room dropping your bag on the floor and broke into tears. "is it your boyfriend again? What did he do to you this time?" She hugged you while patting your head gently.

"I- i j- just asked him to-" you sobbed again. "To- to go to come over a- and he said h-he couldn't" you sniffed. "W-when i asked-- why? He said he had a lot of assigments unfinished and he's busy-" ellie whiped a tear running down your cheeks.

"B-b-but when i went back to campus- to get the books i left, i- i saw him with aliyah- a- and t-they k- kissed.." ellie looked at you with pure sympathy. "Sit down" she told you.

You sat on her bed next to her. "B-but aliyah is dating that popular guy..." you sobbed. "She dates the whole campus y/n, just dump him! Your better on your own"

"But- if i dumped him, i- id hurt him..." you told her. Ellie looks at you in disbelief "your kidding right?" Said in a slightly mocking tone. "So your feel sorry for him?" She scoffs "funny. After making you cry for hours every single day? Never had time for you and instead he's hooking up with other hoes like that bitch aliyah?"

You avoided eye contact with ellie, she sounded angry. "So i'm just gonna let him hurt my g- bestfriend like that?" You shake your head slowly. "You still going to be with him? Come on, your not a loser" she mocked you.

"Your not going back with him. Im not letting him hurt you again. Enough is enough" you looked at her with soggy eyes still.

Ellie got closer to your face and whispered to your ears. "I could be a better boyfriend than him"

Suddenly she pushes you to the wall. "You are not going back to him" she stared at you coldly. She lifts up your chin. "Els...-" she kissed you a bit harsh while gripping on your shorts. You looked at her. Don't know how to react.

"Don't be an idiot, your better alone, or..." she towers over you on her bed practically pinning you to the wall. "...With me"

She pulls the top of your tanktop with her right hand and pulled down one of the strap with her left hand. "Ellie...." you whined. "Who do you belong to now?" She asked you demandingly. "Y-you"

You were so fucked up in the head, all fuzzy almost couldn't think straight. You feel drunk, this time it's not because you were at dina's and partying all night, this time its different.

It was a suprise, throughout the past 2 years, ellie does act a little 'different' with you, considering you've known her for half your life.

"You have no idea how long i've wanted to do this..." ellie whispered. You pulled ellie's shirt "can i just be yours....?" You muttered.

Ellie smirked and scoffs a bit mockingly "your mine" she said in a tone you've never heard before. She pulled down both of the straps of your tanktop and pulled it down.

She kissed your neck, biting it.... leaving marks. God, how are you going to cover this up? You started groaning.

"You smell nice, did your boyfriend bought you this parfume?" She stopped and looks at you. "N-no... i bought it mysel- shit..." she slid down the pretty shorts you wore.

"Better huh? Its getting hot in here" she smiled at took off her shirt and damn... she works out a lot doesn't she?

Ellie pushed her knuckle on your clothes cunt. "S'wet babe, who did this to you?" She asked. "Don'know" you mumbled. She pulled down your underwear and you gasped slightly. She suddenly inserts one digit in you. "Do you know now?" She asked again. "S'you- its you els"

She curled her finger in you. "-eghh.... el-ellie....." god your totally fuck up, its only one finger- and again, she puts another digit in you as you clenched around her fingers.

"Your so pretty..." ellie spat out those words making you blush like crazy. Its not like she never compliments you, she always compliment you every time you two meet and you put so much effort to your clothes i mean this time you were barely wearing anything.

You keep on moaning and groaning, shes is doing something to you. Then she pulled out both her digits and starts edging you. "Ff-fuck fuck fuuckk.." you yelled out.

"Y'gonna cum for me sweetie?" She asked. "S--soon, p-probablly i-" you came on her hand with a moan as you reached your climax. "Good girl" she praised you.

[creepling]

˚ ༘`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹ WEEK 01: DBF! J. SLAUGHTER / 5k

WRITTEN FOR KINKTOBER 2023

synopsis. reader's father brings on an apprentice to work for him, but the young lad becomes an unlikely friend to the old man. johnny becomes a regular in your household, and the thoughts about him are becoming unbearable. when they become reality, johnny puts you in your rightful place.

tags. smut - MDNI. dad's best friend. college student!reader. size kink. height difference. reader is twenty-one, johnny is twenty-eight. dacryphilia. reader description in bikini top & shorts. sneaking off. bedroom sex. yearning. smoking cigarettes. power imbalance. secret relationship. rough kissing & sex. edging. oral (f & m receiving). use of 'little one', 'slut' and 'baby' as pet names. stomach bulge. johnny is too big for reader. positions: mating press, upstanding citizen, elevator stance.

Your dad was the guy the town went to to get anything from a tap to the free-loader truck fixed into shape. He was always handy with his hands, and it’s what brought the money in for the family. People come and go on the property, and you’re just glad the yards are big enough so they can work away in the blazing sun instead of disrupting the peace inside. At your considerable age, however, you never quite appreciated your dad appointing you as a jug maid when people came over—asking you to fetch water or mom’s home-grown lemonade and top it up for the guests.

Eight in the morning was the starting point, your mom fetching ingredients in the kitchen and your dad cleaning up his tools by the dining table. You idled behind the door as you listened to their conversation.

“Really? You’re gonna hire him?” Your mom said, confusion lacing her words.

“C’mon, it’s not the boy’s fault. Nancy said he couldn’t find permanent work in the city, and I’ve seen him fix things up – the kid’s got the touch. He can’t help who his family is,” Your dad defended.

“I don’t know, there’s rumours. I don’t wanna find out if there’s any truth,”

“Those are about Nancy, not him. Cut him some slack. You’ll like him when you get to know him.” That was the last you heard before you darted back to your room. As you changed for the day, you knew who your parents were talking about. Hesitant like your mother, you recalled your memories of the Sawyers and the Slaughters. They are a crazy bunch, not right in the head, tuned to the moon – the usual gossip about them. They were hushed words through the grapevine to you; you never met one of them in person. Now that Nancy’s ‘kid’ is your dad’s new apprentice, you could decide how crazy they are.

He drove in the yard in a busted-up truck, but the engine sounded clean and the exhaust clear as a whistle. Your dad stood out front while you and your mom hung by the porch. You strain your eyes to glimpse him in the bright sun. As he jumped out of the truck, your lips parted.

He was like something out of the movies. Hair slicked back – sun-kissed skin. Dust on his boots, the sleeves cut from his shirt. Head held high and flashing a smile as he shook your dad’s hand. You studied the flex of his arms – muscle-toned and robust. The rumours failed to mention how handsome he was, for sure.

Once he greets your dad, you and your mom walk towards him to get acquainted.

“I expected you to be a little scrawny thing,” Your mom smiled, just as surprised as you. The man chuckled and rubbed his neck awkwardly.

“You must be thinkin’ of Nubbins. I’m Johnny – Nancy’s son,” Johnny. It suited him like hair gel does a greaser.

“Gosh, I’m sorry, son, I’m bad with faces,” Your mom hollered, her bashfulness radiating off you and growing embarrassment in your core.

“This is my wife,” Your dad gestured, “And this quiet one at the back is my daughter,”

You introduce yourself. Johnny repeated your name, and it dripped like honey from his tongue. You mustered the coolest smile, hoping he blamed your bashfulness on the delirium of the heat. You spotted the hand he outstretched and shook it, your stomach doing summer salts at his firm grip—the stroke of his callous hands, deluging your hand. You could melt away in that moment.

Perch on the porch swing chair, nose in a book, your mind wandered to faraway lands to the noise of gears turning. Your dad praised Johnny’s working hands, a mutual bond in the early stages of establishment. Their tinkering perked your ears occasionally, your eyes peering over the book pages, salivating at the sight of Johnny’s gloved hands coated in soot. His eyes fixed on the mechanics, tiny strands of hair dangling over his forehead. Your dad calls on you, knocking you out of the trance.

“Fetch some lemonade, ay hun?”

You sighed, making your way into the house. In the shade, your skin still tingled. You glimpse your reflection in the hallway mirror. Cheeks dark – permanently flushed and hot. The pit of your stomach echoes alluring calls, burdening all logical thought. As you poured the glasses, you thought about those gloved hands gripping your sides, turning your body, greeting you with a rough kiss. Were his lips soft? Or brittle and callous, affected by the dry atmosphere. How much does his skin glisten with sweat? Do droplets run down the grooves of his muscles? His sun-kissed skin is littered with freckles, minuscule and collective, only noticeable when you kiss his points, running your tongue tactfully down his stomach.

“Honey, you’re spilling that!” Your mom rushed for a kitchen towel, soaking the lemonade that spread along the counter. You jumped out of your thoughts, awed by the mess, questioning the passing of time.

“Sorry, I was somewhere else…”

The thoughts only intensified when Johnny became a regular guest. He had much in common with your dad, and the unlikely man in his late 20s became a close friend to the older man. He was adopted by your dad’s friend circle, taking him under their wing, invited to BBQs, after-work bar drinks, and poker nights. When Johnny couldn’t make it, your dad always said he was in the city. You came to find Johnny wasn’t much older than you, but he likes to act like he is. One poker night, he walked past your bedroom, returning from the bathroom, eyeing the papers and books littering your desk. You felt his presence leaning on the door frame, thumbs hooked to his belt.

“Watcha got there?” He asked, his drawl never failing to amuse you.

“Summer reading. Gotta do it before I start the semester.”

“You’re always reading. Don’t ya eyes get sore?” His teasing took you by surprise. His hint at an observation was quite flattering. You thought he forgot you existed. It wouldn’t hurt to return the teasing, would it?

“Don’t your hands get sore from fixing so many cars?”

Johnny’s head leans back as he chuckles, a smirk on his face that could kill you on the spot. “You got me there, little one,” Johnny let his words linger as he walked back downstairs.

It should offend you to be called small, weaker, submissive. You were a grown-up. The grip on your pencil was firm but not from anger. It was from realising the sensation between your legs underneath your pyjama shorts. You were soaking wet.

July proved that this summer was hot, and there was no sign of it cooling down. Sitting outside was unbearable, and the thirst for cold water lay throats to dry as the pipes produced a lukewarm liquid that left a bad taste on the tongue. By the time Dad returned, the bags of ice melted in their plastic bags, causing your mother to rush about making ice cubes from scratch. All for the BBQ to still go ahead. The guests would be arriving soon.

Your parents’ friends arrived early to help out, and you heard the chin-wagging from up the stairs, cursing under your breath to find something decent to wear. Sweat invaded your skin even after having a shower, and the shorts and bikini top were becoming all too tempting to wear. You checked yourself in the mirror, the bikini strap tied around the back of your neck, the colour complimenting the hues of your skin. The plain and denim shorts are the most comfortable ones you own. Displaying your legs, room for the stomach, firm against your backside. It was the most revealing thing you’ve worn in a while, but as the sunlight reaches every corner of your bedroom, its feverish radiation gives you the excuse not to ponder. Checking your appearance once more, you sigh at your fussing and make your way downstairs.

Prepping food with your mom left you to wonder about your college friends. They were scattered around the states, living out their summers while you were stuck with the senior club. The guests remarked: if you don’t wanna hang with us old folks, we won’t take offence, hun. These people were considered your aunts and uncles; they’ve seen you in diapers. They braided your hair and kept your prying hands away from dangerous objects. The least you could do was spend time with them in your limbo stage of young adulthood and enjoy their company before you leave this town.

Things would have stayed wholesome if Johnny didn’t show up.

He wore the same clothes as always. This time, they looked like they had a fresh wash. His boots are polished, mechanic gloves discarded, his hair wet and slight back like he just hopped out of the shower. The congregation of the porch cooed at his arrival. The husbands were ready for handshakes, and the wives willfully smiled at his charming face. You were the only one to react like his welcome was neutral, even when you cocked your hip slightly to the side and fixed your hair.

He brought an offering of corn cobs, excusing the rest of his family not making attendance. “Momma wanted to give these as an apology for not comin’. She said she real busy. In truth, I think she was nervous comin’ here. She ain’t been out in a long while.”

They all thought how gratuitous the boy was looking out for his momma. You kept a blank face at their responses, knowing they would be as tense in meeting the ‘Black Nancy’. The black widow of Newt sitting with them, eating food with them, the rumours floating in their head like sewage in a gutter. It's a good thing he brought a meatless offering.

There were too many cooks in the kitchen as the men established a system by the grill, letting their wives sit around and ask Johnny questions, keeping him in their company. You sat by the edge, amused by the sight of his attempt to keep his cool.

They asked a lot about his family, and you sensed the tense build-up inside him from across the table. You bit your lip, staring into space, hearing the stutter of his words. He was like a meerkat around hyenas, and he didn’t like that one bit.

“How’s the old man? What was his name? Drayton! Is he still working at that gas station? Every time I drive by, there seems to be no gas in it,” The woman hollered, “Must be y’all bringing all the money in.”

“Wasn’t there a youngest? Must be cousins with yourself. ‘Went to school with my oldest, but he was not in it for long – teachers said he was slow-thinking. Think they pulled him out eventually. How’s he holdin’ up?”

The look in Johnny’s eyes, you hadn’t seen him like that before. Dark and daggering at the table, avoiding the gazes his way. You notice his forearm tense, his hands clenched into a fist. You felt like saying something.

“Quit your hollerin’ at ‘im! He don’t wanna gossip with ya!” Your dad’s friend nipped at his wife, causing the women to transfer into giggles.

“Would ya excuse me?” Johnny rose from the table and headed inside, insinuating use for the bathroom. As he entered the front door, you waited a few seconds before heading inside. Pausing by the hallway, you hear his footsteps, ear perking at a creak from upstairs. As you ascend the stairs, you see him loitering by the landing, arms crossed and back to the wall. His eyes closed, heaves of exhales coming from his nose – like he was meditating.

“Drains the life outta ya, doesn’t it?” You perked, earning a jolt of surprise from Johnny.

“What ya mean?” He drawled, shrugging his shoulders.

“They’re energy vampires. I love them and all, but- sometimes they never know when to read the room. I guess I just- I mean to say you’re not wrong for feeling annoyed by it,” You gingerly walk closer to him, eyes adjusting to his face in the dim light. He was always at a distance, a stunning piece to commend. This is the closest you’ve ever seen him. You glance at his worn-out jeans, the car spark burn-holes in his t-shirt, the scars littering his arms. He was a solidified dream, flesh and bone carved by the Gods – a little rugged. You cross your legs and hug your arms, unworthy of his stare.

He couldn’t help but stare, too, soaking you in from head to toe – revealing your attributes hidden by flowy blouses and cotton flares on an average day. Your skin looked soft and plush. The dip in your thighs from the denim hugging close, snug on your hips. The bikini demanded his attention, and his stare was everlasting on you. A warm aura collided with your tense muscles, still and eager. You straightened your back and hugged your arms tighter, defining the curve of your cleavage. Johnny cocked his eyebrow.

“You wanna hang out? We can sit in my room” Your suggestion slipped through your lips. You were urged by the thoughts signalling in your mind to fill the hunger for his hands on you. To find somewhere quiet and colluded for your moans to become ballads.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Johnny took a step closer to you. He was tall, his head tilted, eyes peering down at you. Your small stature shuffled back, but Johnny only leaned closer. The broadness of his shoulders engulfing you, his figure like a shadow. He was thinking about your suggestion, burying your head into the pillows, having his way with you. But for the first time, he felt like following a moral code – to not fuck his best friend’s daughter. He’d grown close to him and even appreciated his presence as the father figure he never had. But he had also grown fond of how you look at him, tempting him at every chance. Your acts were desperate; he mused on stripping you of your innocent facade, letting his hands reveal your alluring nature. Nervously laughing, you divert your eyes, swinging your legs in motion to your bedroom door.

“Well- while the old ones talk your ear off, I’ll be in my room. You’re welcome to join if you like,” You bite your lip and bat your eyes before closing the door.

Johnny shuffled between your door and the stairs, hearing the laughter from outside and a record hitting play through your wall. Both sound sources tugged at him until he finally gave him, opening your door discreetly.

You lay on your bed, positioned with your feet kicking the air, your hands splayed over a book you were reading earlier. The music mumbled as Johnny slowly closed the door, leaning on it as his eyes scanned your room. It was a physical personification of you, small tokens of memories littered around. The walls are still a pale pink from when you were a toddler, yellow-stained from cigarette smoke. Hand-me-down furniture in the set of dark wood, coffee stains on the desk, dust under the wardrobe. Johnny’s lips tugged into a smile, “Cute,” 

You gave him room to sit on the bed, discarding your book and leaning on your side. Johnny prompted his back against the headboard, his boots dangling on the edge, mindful of the dirt on the soles. He digs into his pockets for his pack of cigarettes and lighter, clipping his lips onto the dout of the cigarette and pulling it out. You gaze at his pout and the clicker of the lighter, mimicking his inhale to steady the gutting pounds of your heart. You inch your fingers towards him, and he passes the cigarette, allowing you to pinch it between your fingers and draw it to your lips.

“Why’d you start working with my dad?” You ask the question you wanted to ask for a long time, to know the beginning of it all. To better understand the origins of his presence being the demise of your contentment.

“He offered me a job, I took it,” He shrugged, taking the cigarette as you passed it back.

“And now you’re the best of buddies. How’s that going?” You slightly tease, smiling at the sight of his smirk.

“I know you’re his daughter and all - but he’s a fun guy to hang around with. Doesn’t bother me he’s older. I like hanging out with him, and he’s taught me a lot on the job.”

Johnny taps the ashes into the ashtray at your bedside, his free hand by his side, inches away from yours. His hard fingertips traced circles on your duvet. You slide your fingers closer, breezing your nail along his index. He observed you, studying your innocent exterior, suspicious of your insinuating eyes.

“What about me? Am I fun to hang out with?” Your face dropped as he slowly shook his head.

“Don’t…” His warning was clear, but his tongue scaled along his cheek, trying to hold back. You roll your eyes and sit up, looking him dead in the eyes.

“You’re not that much older than me, y’know. You don’t get to treat me like a baby just because you're friends with my family.” You got your point across, narrowing your eyes as Johnny held in a chuckle.

“How old are you, anyways?” Johnny drawled, his eyes flickering to your lips.

“Twenty-one. And how old are you? Twenty-eight, going on Fifty?” Your face was straight, but you chewed on your cheek as his smirk grew contagious. A firmness gripped your wrist, and your breath hitches, pupils dilating as Johnny pours his stare into you. As he sits up, you feel small again, his shoulders at either side of you, his hard look demanding your attention.

“I see how it is. You’re all grown up now, but mommy and daddy still think you’re their sweet little baby. Everyone thinks you’re so damn cute, you’re the precious little angel. And you’re just getting darn’ sick of it,” Johnny’s words form a lump in your throat, and you meekly nod. His lips close to yours, and your mouth gapes open as he leans closer.

He pulls away, smirking at your intentions, biting the cigarette between his teeth. You turn away in a huff, rubbing your hot cheeks. How embarrassing to be teased like that and caught out on your feelings. Johnny was relishing it.

“Go back downstairs if you’re going to be like that,” You say, trying not to trip on your words and stand your ground. Johnny deadens the cigarette into the ashtray, and his boots scrape against the hardwood. He squats in front of you, forcing his gaze on yours.

“I ain’t doing anything outta malice, sweetheart. What you’re tryna do would cost me my job. What would your dad think of me? What would he think of you?” Johnny places his hands on your thighs, running his fingers along your bare skin. You caught your breath. “But… I’m not one to play by the rules. And, well, that little outfit of yours caught my eye the minute I came here.”

Johnny hooks his fingers under the hem of your shorts, his knuckles digging under the tight fabric. Your back arches along with your legs slowly opening, fixated on Johnny’s eyes on your body. “My, you’re just too tempting…” Johnny breathes out.

“No one has to know,” You convince, “I won’t tell anyone. You’ll still have your job.”

Johnny places his hand on the side of your neck, his thumb caressing your cheek. You realise how big he is compared to you, how his hand could cover your whole face or wrap wholly around your neck. His lips tug into a smirk as his eyes devour you, “Yeah, let’s keep this our little secret.”

You squeeze your eyes shut as his mouth strikes yours, inviting you into a rough embrace. A low, mumbled moan vibrates against his lips, causing him to chuckle. Immediately, his arms around you press you against his body, bringing your small frame into a cradle as he stands up. Your legs wrap around his hips, his hands gripping your ass and the back of your neck. The effortlessness of handling coursed through your mind, wondering what other aspects he can achieve. His initiation of power lends you your submissive state, and you allow him to spread your short frame along your bed, his broad shoulders on either side of you, and he props himself with his elbows. He leans to one side, letting his free hand fidget with your shorts, his lips never leaving for breath. He tugs them off, chuckling as they fumble over your thighs.

Johnny trails his kisses down to your chest, his teeth scraping against your skin, sending shivers up your spine. His hands caught onto your breasts, massaging into their warmth. His nose is buried into your cleavage, and you take the time to undo the back of your bikini, letting the fabric fall on either side of him. The strap tickles his ears, and his hands yank the rest of the fabric, his mouth latching onto your nipples, a drawn-out moan escaping your lips. You wondered how loud is too loud. Will people hear from downstairs? Taking no chances, you clasp your hand over your mouth, sinking into the bed as Johnny attacks your sensitivity.

“Lemmie hear those moans, little one,” Johnny said between kisses, “You sound so darn cute.”

There it was again. Little one. You feel your underwear drenched as you buck your hips, your pussy rubbing against the thin material. It only intensifies as Johnny lowers his kisses, catching sight of the damp trail pooling in your panties. “Fuuuck,” he breathes out, pressing his fingertips against your warmth, making you tense. Pleading with your eyes as he teases you, your hips grind against his touch, begging for pressure. Johnny was not one for pleasuring others, but the sight of your desperation and your sweet scent sent his actions into overdrive. His fingers pull down the thin, cotton fabric, abandoning it on the floor, spreading your legs to reveal your dripping cunt.

“Such a pretty little pussy,” He prompts your legs over his shoulders, exposing you. You mewl at your vulnerability, eyes locked on his fingers inching towards you. He groans at his fingers sliding neatly between your walls, gliding upwards to your gummy clit. His touch was light but enough to make you shift your hips lower. He grunts, gripping your legs and giving you a firm stare.

“I need you to stay still, baby girl. I wanna take my sweet’ass time with you, ‘that clear?”

You nod rapidly, agreeing to anything that involves him touching you. You mentally beg for him inside you, to fill you up with his immersive fingers, letting each one stretch you out and tighten at his touch. You wanted to feel his tongue toy with your clit, cum all over his mouth. But he wasn’t playing by your rules, and Johnny will do anything to make you beg.

Johnny idles your clit, making his touch lighter whenever you press against him. He chuckles at your defeat, your ass sinking lower into the bed, obeying him in hopes of pleasure. Johnny takes his time sliding inside you, one finger after another, his mouth agape at the sight of your stretching cunt. You yelp into your mouth, biting down on your finger as you ease into his touch, gasping as he pumps in and out. Your eyes widen at the feeling of his tongue rubbing against your clit. Your stomach tightens, your hands grip the sheets, and a sigh of relief escapes your lips.

The sight of Johnny’s eyes looking up at you was maddening, his stare dark and lustrous. His free hand holds your leg wide, having all access to your sensitive cunt. The tip of his tongue rapidly against your clit, sending a tight, pleasurable feeling to your core. His experience was unlike any other. It beat all the sex you had before out of the park. Your climax inches to finish, your moans pitching higher, mewling against your pursed lips. Then, he stops, the cold air hitting against your throbbing cunt, his tongue licking his lips.

“Why’d you stop? Please, I was so fucking close-” You protest, but Johnny already has his fingers on your lips, silencing you. With a firm hold on your jaw, he slaps your cunt until it’s raw, basking in your surprise. The way your small frame protests his touch amused him more than he liked to admit.

“Awh baby, I don’t want you cumming so early,” Johnny mockingly coos, rubbing the bulge protruding from his jeans, “I gotta have some pleasure too, y’know.”

You sit up, practically clawing at his jeans, letting his hands stroke your pretty face as you reveal his cock. Like his hands, his length reached over your face, his girth heavy against your nose. Kitten licking his shaft, Johnny chuckles at your eagerness.

“Who knew you were such a lil cock slut?” Johnny amused. It’s the quiet ones you gotta watch out for, he thought. His tip pokes your pretty little mouth, Johnny aiming entry, his head thrown back as you suck it gently in your mouth. He grips your hair, his burly strength pushing your mouth deeper around his cock. You choke as your nose tickles his base, gasping for air as he springs his cock out of your mouth. Once his cock is dripping in your drool, Johnny pushes you back, exposing your throbbing cunt to his erection.

Beyond the mist of lust, Johnny thought for a moment. His eyes scan you – your puppy eyes and puffy lips. His hands pressed down your thighs, exposing your entrance, his tip rubbing against your clit. He wanted nothing more than for you to be his tiny fucktoy. He undertakes, sliding his cock inside you, slow against your tightness, the pressure forcing him to stuff himself inside you. He watches as your pussy stretches around him, the way your stomach expands and reveals the bulge of his cock. He comprehends the size difference, how minuscule you are underneath him, and how in your stature you squirm under his force. You try to back up as he is halfway, your pussy choking on his cock, but he holds you in place.

“This getting too much for you, little one? Can’t you take all of me?” Johnny grunts in your ear, rutting the rest of his length inside you, smothering your face into the crook of his neck as you yelp. Burying his cock into you, he waits until you succumb to his length before getting back into position and pounding his cock in and out of you. The roughness to provoke against you sends mixed signals, your mind foggy and fixated on his cock. A jolt of pleasure fills you, his thumb rubs against your clit.

“Who knew daddy’s little girl was so cock-hungry,” Johnny teased, “A pretty thing like you wanting me to ruin this tiny pussy. Fuck, your dad’s gonna be pissed.”

He whispers sweet nothings into your ear, his fingers never leaving your clit, watching you ascend into lust as he tells you how dirty you are, how he sees the way you stare at him, how you were asking for this. You thank him repeatedly, asking him to go faster, harder.

“You gonna make me cum,” You purr, your high coming close. Your words encourage Johnny to keep going until the opposite occurs. His fingers leave your clit, his thrusts burn into a slow rhythm, and you feel like screaming. A numbing agony takes over. You sob into his chest. Johnny forces you to look at him, witnessing tears fall. His edging came to a breaking point. Your orgasm is denied and torturous. You plead with him with your eyes, your lip quivering. His pupils dilate as you sob.

His thrusts are harsher as if forcing the tears to keep spilling down your puffy cheeks, grunts breathing out his mouth at the sound of you choking on your sobs. His hand wraps around your neck, pushing the air from your lungs, using every possibility to see you crying. You knew he enjoyed this, feeling him twitch inside you, your lulling eyes catching the perverted look in his eye.

“You keep doing that, and I’ll let you cum, baby girl,” Johnny promised, not caring how psychotic he sounded, showing his true colours. The creak of the bed intensifies as he drills into you, prompting him to pick you up in his arms. You instinctively wrap your arms around him, shocked at how flawlessly he picked you up, holding you like you weigh nothing. Your legs over his arms, his forehead pressing against yours. Mesmerised by the dark look in his eye, you silence your moans with pursed lips, astonished at your tender insides ruined by his rough thrusts. The tears keep streaming, the pain mixing with your arousal, your delicate cunt denied of pleasure, at his mercy for emancipation. Johnny kissed your tear-stained cheeks – a glutton to its salty taste.

“Such a good little pet for me, so fucking good,” Johnny mumbles, a belligerent on your ass, smacking you against him and grunting at the pleasure. “I’m gonna let you cum now, doll. Fuck – I want you to cum.”

You gasp in relief, repeating gratitude, the depths of his pummelling enough to bring your high from your ruined pussy to its release. As you speak and squirm, you cling to his broad frame, nails digging into his shoulders, suffocating your face into his neck. Johnny is unyielding to your cunt tightening around him, his length bathing in your wetness, an exhausted groan flowing from his agape mouth. Johnny holds your dead weight as you grow limp, lightheaded from the rush, but still able to keep you with perfect precision. Knowing his climax is approaching, Johnny slips your lame, small body off him, forcing you to his knees. You become alert in your position, held in place with your head directly under his pulsating dick, his hand firm on the top of your head, ready for his load.

Strings of hot seed stretch your face and hairline, grumbling curses from Johnny, the sight of you marked with his release clouding his mind— the residue hanging from your lips, relishing in his salty taste. Johnny smirks down at you. Even in his transition to clarity, you are a sight for sore eyes. “You look so pretty like that, little one,” he chuckled.

Both of you are quick to change, aware of the passing of time and the guests downstairs. Johnny helps you tie your bikini, brazing your tits for the last time before buckling his jeans. Cleaning the cum and tears from your face with a cloth, you gaze at him, fumbling with his belt, trailing your eyes along the perimeters of his body. Wondering if all of this was just another wet dream.

Johnny revised the excuse with you once more, “I was in the bathroom, bothered by last night's dinner. You were in your room studying. Got it?”

You smirk slyly, making Johnny cock his eyebrow. “You really want them thinking you were on the toilet for half an hour?”

Johnny rolls his eyes, “Better than them knowing I was fucking you. Unless you got another excuse, smartass?”

A smile erupts on your face, giggling under your breath. Your eyes look at Johnny, ready to ask about the elephant in the room. “Is this gonna be the first and only time?”

Johnny thinks about it momentarily, shrugging as he gazes down at you. “It can’t be too regular. But I would be lyin’ if I said I didn’t wanna see you again,”

You sit there bashful, the flash of shyness intensifying when he gently kisses the top of your hand, tucking a lock of your hair behind your ear. He had an edge to him. You discovered that in the trice, but it only heightened your infatuation with him. To be under him, in his command, you never felt more safe, excited, and thrilled by what life threw at you. The risk of getting caught, in any other situation, your good nature meets with anxiety. Johnny made it worth it. It was impossible to deny him. And Johnny could sleep tonight knowing he had you wrapped around his finger.

“‘Til next time, sweet thing,'' Johnny exited, winking before closing the door. You lay back on your bed, gaining your senses, the butterflies in your stomach still prevalent and consuming.

[sassypantsjaxon]

Fuck it. UA instructors as...things the staff from my college have done, I guess?

Because it's been three and a half years since I graduated and I miss that place every single day

Principal Nezu

Principal Nezu has everybody's names, faces, and quirks memorized before the first day of school. This is never acknowledged.

(Recovery Girl also learns everybody pretty much right away, but she interacts with them a bit more directly than Nezu, so it doesn't seem quite as weird)

Somehow Nezu manages to both be so chill and yet have no chill.

Nezu once texted Mic to ask if he was available for a call about some program at school and when Mic didn't answer within 15 minutes because he was DRIVING Nezu just called him anyway and was like "is this a bad time? I can call you back :)" Like, no,no, We're both here now, let's have this conversation now. Go ahead

One time Nezu pulled the Big Three out of their classes and brought them into his office to sit them down like he was about to have a Big Serious Conversation, and then he just says "Do you think...it would be possible for you to visit the first year hero classes...and tell them about your experiences? :)" Mirio and Nejire are both going "yeah, sure", while thinking why did we have to get pulled out of class like this was something really important? Amajiki is hyperventilating.

Power loader

Power Loader is like some kind of cryptid.

He just shows up when things need to be fixed, fixes them, and then disappears again. He never says a word. Don't question it, just be grateful and let him stay in his hiding place

Random knowledge. Whenever the rest of the staff has some random question that no one else can answer. Ask Power Loader. He knows. He always know. Don't question that either, he's just one of those kind of people

Power loader and All Might are the only two teachers who were asked to come to UA instead of having to apply

13

Actually 13 falls somewhere inbetween applying and being asked to join the staff, because she kind of created her own job.

She just had a meeting with Nezu one day to be like "Your students need an Unforeseen Simulation Joint! Here's what that means and why you need it" And Nezu went "... :) You're hired!"

All Might

Toughest person anybody knows. Can not handle spicy food.

Everybody loves him. Anybody who doesn't isn't cut out for hero school. This is not bragging, it just happens to be true.

All Might once listed one of his credentials as BAMF. (Izuku absolutely lost it that day)

While discussing I Island with Izuku, All Might very casually stated "My ex husband lives there" as if that isn't an Absolute Bombshell to drop You can't just Say That and NOT ELABORATE WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU HAVE AN EXHUSBAND!?!!???? (Izuku lost it even more that day)

Present Mic

Mic has a bad habit of talking a little too fast. Nobody's ever 100% sure what he said.

Also he swears. Like. A lot. Like, he would get in trouble as a student for swearing.

There is a drawer on Mic's desk that's labeled 'Present Mic's Top Secret Hiding Place' and anybody who notices it is just like ??? because it's clearly labeled and Not a Secret. But Mic is very scatter brained and will lose anything as soon as it leaves his eyesight. Having a specific place to put things help with that.

EraserMic

Married. But they don't really talk about it, and they don't act married in front of the students, so a lot of them don't realize it

It's actually surprising because they have pictures of them and their kids on their desks. All you have to do is go to the teacher's office. It's not a secret. It's right there.

There's a class for the second years on like, heroism and personal lives or something. Eraser and Mic get to teach part of that unit because they have experience being married heroes.

One year when Aizawa says that he's married to Mic one of the students asks him why

That same year, when Aizawa reveals that there is one teacher he will never be friends with (like, even more than all the other teachers), just because they have nothing in common other than working at UA, and the same student asks him if it's Mic

People assume Mic gets special treatment as Aizawa's husband. This is not true. If anything, he's more likely to get the short end of the stick and be asked to cover for Aizawa.

Eraser Head

Aizawa forgot that there was supposed to be a chaperone for the remedial licensing training and said he would probably be the one doing it. He was not. He sent Mic. Thus proving the previous statement true.

Bad at interpersonal relationships

Has a bad habit of mumbling. Students are never 100% sure what he said

At some point, the people around him start referring to doing anything overly rational as 'pulling an Aizawa'. Yeah. ...yeah...

[copyscho]

Jean eats you out then fucks u soo good that you squirt 😉 ྀིྀིྀིྀིྀི ྀིྀིྀིྀིྀི ྀིྀིྀིྀིྀི

cw: f!ngering, oral s€x, s€x!

Your legs wrap around his head as he continues to bury his face in the slick between your legs. His warm tongue lapps at your clit while he fingers your cunt with his long thick digits moving at a fast pace. His fingers curl up hitting your spongey g-spot for the third time in the last 30 minutes. His lips were glossed with your arousal. You pant as he moves his tongue and fingers faster looking up at you as he eats you out like he’s been starved for months.

You squirm under his grip on your thigh when you feel yourself coming closer to your orgasm. Your eyes seal shut. Your hips jerk when you feel the same warming sensation building up in your abdomen.

“Aah J-jean I’m close” you moan. It’s was like music to his ears hearing your hushed whimpers slip from your lips. Your gummy walls sucks Jeans digits so well and tight he can’t stop thinking about how it would feel around his thick cock but he wants to prep you before you take him.

ྀིྀིྀིྀིྀི ྀིྀིྀིྀིྀི ྀིྀིྀིྀིྀི ྀིྀིྀིྀིྀི ྀིྀིྀིྀིྀི ྀིྀིྀིྀིྀི ྀིྀིྀིྀིྀི

“You’ve seriously never came from head before?”

“No I’m not even kidding”, you let out a shy laugh.

You don’t even remember how this conversation came up in the first place, first you both were talking about how your exams were going then what you had planned over the weekend then the topic about your first time and now it’s the main topic you’re both discussing . How embarrassing it was and how you both wished it would it would’ve been someone else who took your virginity.

Your first “serious” relationship was in your junior year of high school. He wasn’t a bad boyfriend he was there when you needed him sometimes. He had a habit of always putting his friends over you and would cancel his plans with you to hang out with his friends. It was like he was just using you for your body and would leave after. No after care but you couldn’t blame him he was only 17 he didn’t know better .

You took the break up a little too hard even though you dated for 7 months. Afterwords you’ve had a few relationships and hook ups that didn’t last long.

You met Jean in your first year of college. It was through mutual friends and quickly your guys friendship became really close very quick. You could tell him anything without him judging you and the same would go when he discuss any topic with you. Weather is was school, gossip, or even sex. It wouldn’t make either of you uncomfortable.

Now here you are, your back rested against Jeans couch in his living room; fingers running through his honey brown soft locks, while his tongue lapps at your swollen clit.

“Cmon finish for me baby”, he purred. His cock ached painfully in his pants. You had no idea what you were doing to him even before you he had the idea of giving you head in the first place. It was always mixed signals with you. He confessed at the peak of your friendship that he had feeling for you but you didn’t reciprocate the same feelings because you weren’t ready for a relationship.

“I bet I could make you cum in the first 5 minutes of eating you out” he teased.

“I don’t believe you”, you said while rolling your eyes.

“Wanna find out?”.

Your hips jerk up as waves of fire sore through your lower abdomen. “Ah f-fuck.. yea don’t stop”, you moan as your legs begin to shake.

You pant as you come down from your high. His eyes wondering across your cunt watching you clench around nothing. He couldn’t help himself from pulling down his sweats and briefs. He needed to be inside you.

Your eyes widen when you see how big he is. That’s probably why his friends call him horse face, because he is hung like a horse. Your practically drooling when you reach your hand down swiping your thumb over his tip smearing the pre cum leaking from his tip, his breath hitches when you touch him. His briefs were soaked with precum at the front.

He swats your hand away. “I want to feel you”. His eyes were dazed with lust. His hand slowly jerking his cock before aligning himself to your oozing cunt. He slowly thrusts his cock into you. You let out a breathy moan when you feel your walls being filled to the brim. He gives you a moment to adjust to his large size before slowly moving his hips.

Your legs wrap around his lower back while he thrusts into you. Your sweet cunt clench’s around him member. He wasn’t sure he was going to last long with the way you were squeezing him. He’s never imagined that he would ever be fucking you on the couch in his living room of an apartment that he shared with his best friend connie.

All those nights he would fuck his hand imagining your pretty lips or cunt around him. Thinking about the times when you would bend over in front of him randomly when you had to tie your shoe lace, or when you would wear a top with your cleavage showing. Especially when you and your friend group spent week at Erens parents cabin during spring break and you wore a bikini to the lake. The one that you asked for his opinion on over text. Those moments were he would feel his cock twitch in his pants when he let his mind wonder a little to far in those moments and would have to rush to the bathroom to relieve himself.

Yet he is still shocked that he gets to fuck his crush, the girl he’s liked for over 2 years. When he lied to her and said he doesn’t see her like that anymore. This would make it even harder to get over his stupid fat crush on his girl best friend.

“Faster” you begged. His hips snap faster at your command. He would do anything to make you feel good so you could brag to your girlfriends how good Jean fucked you on Friday night.

Your nails claw at his back when he drives his hips into your sopping cunt. Your moans become more frequent when you feel yourself coming closer to finishing. “mm.. you feel so good around my cock”, he murmured in your ear.

He couldn’t help himself from lifting your hoodie revealing that you weren’t wearing a bra. He rolled his digits around the sensitive hardened bud. He leans down and slowly flicks his tongue around your right nip and plays with the other one.

You feel yourself becoming overwhelmed with the amount of pleasure that is rushing through your body.

You cup the sides of his face. Looking deep into his eyes before kissing him while he pounds his hip. His hips slapping at your ass while fucking you so good that you can’t even kiss him the way you want to. Your lips brush against his as you deepen the kiss, biting his lower lip you pause the kiss as you let out choked moans “I’m c-cumming jean.” Your body shutters as you cum around his thick cock splurts of squirt come from your cunt wetting his couch and his abdomen.

Your arms wrap around his neck pulling him closer as your body shakes dissolve into pleasure. He pounds into you while you squirt on his cock. Before you know it he pulls out and coats your belly with his warm white cum. He lets out a breathy moan as he moans.

You will never forget that sound. “Oh fuck baby, your making me cum”. It’s music to your ears. You couldn’t wait to write about it in your diary. ‘My guy best fiend fucked me so good that I squirted all over his fat cock, and he moaned that I made him feel good’, you will never forget those words.

He plopped right beside you as you both came down from your high. Both trying to catch your breath before Jean gets up. You don’t even bother to getting up to look where he went off to because you were to tired from the countless times he made you cum.

“I grabbed you a towel” he said while walking towards to you. He kneels down and wipes the cum off your belly.

“That was a huge load”, you say while an awkward laugh. You watch as he smiles before replying “ yeah because you make me feel good”, he says with a smile.

He picks you up carrying you bridal style to his bedroom. He gently lays you down onto his bed and tucks your legs under the blanket. He throws the towel in his laundry basket the walks over to the other side of the bed.

“Y’know I was actually surprised that you made me have an orgasm in just 5 minutes”.

“Well you already know what they say about men who play the piano”. He raises his eyebrows and gives you a sly smile.

“Shut up”, you giggle before snuggling up to him when he gets in the bed.

“Goodnight Jean”.

“Good night princess”.

…

“Jean.. we should do that again sometime if your down”. You ask shyly.

“Anything to make you happy”.

Hey guys, I kind of figured out how to use tumblr. Have mercy on me if there’s any typos because I was too lazy to fix them and English isn’t my first language so if you say anything you’re a hater.

[candlewaxandp0lar0ids]

Masterlist || candlewaxandp0lar0ids

OTHERS

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BTS

★ Namjoon

↳ Lazy Day // fluff. domestic!AU, established relationship. 549 words

★ Jin

↳ Don't Go Baking My Heart // fluff. bakery!AU, strangers to lovers. 14.7k.

You fall in love with Kim Seokjin’s bakery after wandering into it to take advantage of the post-Valentine’s Day discount on the chocolates. Maybe it’s the owner’s bad jokes, maybe it’s the other regulars, maybe it’s the delicious pastries. Or maybe there’s something more that keeps you coming back to that shop.

★ J-Hope

↳ For the First Time (What's Past is Past) // fluff, light angst, smut. neighbors!AU, strangers to lovers. 15.7k

After your eight years relationship comes to a brutal end, you don’t really see yourself getting back into dating — ever, probably. And then, your new neighbor who has the most beautiful smile you’ve ever seen needs to borrow a corkscrew, and you don’t realize it just yet, but your resolve doesn’t stand a chance.

★ Jimin

↳ Fly to my room // fluff. college!AU. 1k

↳ good for you // PWP, smut. friends with benefits!AU. 2.9k

★ Jungkook

↳ I Don't Like a Gold Rush // fluff. college!AU, strangers to lovers. 17.3k

Jungkook is the golden boy, an excellent student, the star of you college’s football team. Rumor has it, there’s simply nothing he can’t do. The same cannot be said about you, but you’ve never had an issue with that. You’re happy with your small group of friends and your lack of talent in sports. And then, Jin befriends Jungkook, and you find yourself spending a lot of time with him. Before you know it, you’ve taken an interest in him — and you’re sure you shouldn’t. There’s no way this can end well for you… right?

↳ if i can never give you peace // series. angst, eventual smut. mafia!AU, hybrid!AU, enemies to lovers, slow burn. in progress.

It starts like quite a few stories do, in your world. Girl meets boy, who happens to be a hybrid, girl buys him at an auction where hybrids are sold, boy falls in love with her, girl gets bored of him. Then it’s not so typical anymore, when the boy ends up forced into illegal fighting rings, until he makes a wrong move and the girl’s father decides he needs to be killed. Where does that leave you? Well, you’re the one who handled Jungkook’s fight and generally organized his life, and, when the girl’s father, your boss and mafia leader, tells you he wants him ‘put down’, you’re the one who has to get it done. Except, instead, you let him escape, and everything turns out fine. Until he comes back.

0 · 1 · 2 · 3 · 4 · 5 · Interlude · 6 · 7 · 8 · 9 ·

STRAY KIDS

★ Bang Chan

↳ all your friends are so cool, you go out every night // smut. college!AU, friends with benefits!AU, jealousy. 5k.

↳ hoodie season // tooth-rotting fluff. established relationship AU. 1.4k.

★ Lee Know

↳ when he sees me // smut, fluff, angst. neighbors!AU. 13.3k. in progress.

Interacting with others has never been easy for you, whether it is talking to them or, worse, flirting with them. As a result, relationships, but also any form of sexual interactions have always eluded you. You had no reason to think that was going to change anytime soon. And then your hot neighbor’s cat shows up in your apartment, and you think that things just might change. Even if it’s only on one front.

↳ kinda wanna throw my phone across the room // fluff. college!AU, coffee shop!AU, strangers to lovers, jealousy. 4.9k

★ Changbin

↳ wanna be you so bad // angst? college!AU, academic rivals!AU, jealousy. 4.3k

★ Hyunjin

↳ you're so gorgeous it makes me so mad // PWP, smut. college!AU, established relationship. 4.4k

↳ comparison is killing me slowly // hurt/comfort, smut. college!AU, established relationship, jealousy. 5.2k. same couple as you're so gorgeous it makes me so mad.

★ Han

↳ i'm so sick of myself // fluff, angst. college!AU, friends to lovers. 4.2k

↳ something's waiting now to pounce // angst, light horror, thriller. high school!AU, slasher!AU, friends to lovers. 6.3k.

★ Felix

↳ felix navidad // fluff, angst. christmas evel!au, strangers to lovers. 16.4k

You keep seeing Felix around. First he falls in your courtyard on Christmas Eve, then you see him hiding chocolate eggs in a park, and then he appears on the staircase behind your apartment, in the middle of the night. It’s unusual, and you have no idea what it means. What you do know, though, is that you’re absolutely fascinated by him, who he is, and the light and joy he seems to bring with him everywhere he goes. Even if you have no idea who or what he is, all that you want is to find out more — and get to spend a little more time with him.

↳ rather be anyone else // angst. college!AU, friends to lovers, jealousy. 3.7k

↳ wouldn't you like to see something strange? // angst, suggestive. urban fantasy, roommates!AU. 4k.

★ Seungmin

↳ i think i think too much // fluff, suggestive. college!AU, established relationship, jealousy. 3.7k

↳ everybody make a scene // fluff, angst (both light). coworkers!AU, convenience store!AU, friends to lovers. 4k

★ I.N.

↳ all i see are girls too good to be true // fluff, light angst. college!AU, idiots to lovers, jealousy. 3.9k

↳ take a chance and roll the dice // fluff. coworkers!AU, bar!AU. 3.7k